The Worst Journey in the WorldAspley Cherry Garrard was the youngest member of the Scott Polar Expedition when he and two others lost their tent to the winds of a night-time snowstorm. They spent hours in temperatures below -70°F stumbling about the ice floes hoping they'd bump into it as it was their only hope of survival.
OK, so that was bad, but we reckon you've had worse. We know how hard you lot are.
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chthonic, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:40)
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OwOh yeah, and my own worst journey:
About a month ago, my wife and I decided to do the C2C (cycle route from the Lake District to Newcastle). Great fun. I've been doing these Sustrans cycle routes for a few years now, once blazed the length of Wales (Cardiff to Holyhead) in four days, feel fairly confident etc. etc. and am just hoping my lovely wife can cope with all the hills.
Wife insists I get my bike serviced. Frankly I think brakes are a bit over-rated but acquiesce anyway. Bike is duly serviced.
About 15 miles after the start (we dipped our wheels in the sea, took photos, and everything), we catch up with a party of sponsored riders doing the route for Macmillan or something. Their pace is a little, er, steady. As my usual riding style is to zoom up to the top of any given hill then stop to recuperate, I'm finding it a bit frustrating.
Eventually I manage to get past all but the leader of their group. It's kind of bendy, so I'm stuck behind him, until a nice, fast, straight downhill hoves into view. Wahey, I can get past here.
Unfortunately the route takes a 90-degree turn down a side-road at the bottom of the hill, indicated by a little blue Sustrans sign half concealed by foliage. Just as I've passed Mr Macmillan Group Leader at approx. 30mph I notice this. Ok, apply brakes and prepare to turn.
Holy crap, my brakes work for the first time in five years. Actually they work really, really well. So well my back wheel stops turning entirely and I am now skidding down a hill at 30mph. Ok, so how do I get round this corner?
The rest of my holiday was spent in Carlisle Infirmary. Since then I have been going back to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford every week to get my jaw moved back into place. Half my front teeth are missing and my entire mouth is held together by elastic bands. I can't eat anything but soup and am completely fscking fed up with the stuff.
Oh yes, and at one point while I was in the Carlisle Infirmary, the news came on the TV. Apparently some cabinet minister was encouraging people to take up exercise, like cycling, to reduce the burden on the NHS. I would have screamed abuse at the kuffwit were it not for the fact I could only open my mouth about 3mm.
(, Wed 13 Sep 2006, 22:55, Reply)
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