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Thursday 10 December 2009

Hijack!

Blog written by guest bloggers Alan (Mines a large one) Sloman and Phil (That’s not what I’ve heard) Lambert who have hacked into this blog to report THE TRUTH.


You can tell its not the usual blogger as the spalling and gremmar is a bit iffy, and as for sintax, well, why not….?


Way back in those heady days just before this ultra-modern Mersey Beat nonsense came in, it was always said that you never saw Cliff Richard and Helen Shapiro together in the same room.


And so it is with Mike (The Postcard) Banfield and Martin (The Pie) Knipe. You never see them in the same room. And we’re here to investigate the reasons.


And, what a giveaway – they blog at the same time and about the same walks with the same pictures. The only difference is, of course, that the actual words are sometimes completely different.


If you don’t believe us, check out the other blog here.


We have suspected for some time that these blog posts actually do relate to REAL walks. It’s a very clever double-bluff. There were dark rumours of a secret tryst, involving dirty boots and damp trouser legs and a WALK, beginning at the quiet Yorkshire village of Embsay in Craven, once said to be the centre of a legal rambling ring, but never convincingly proved as a fact.


Cunningly disguised so that you can only just see him at the foot of the picture:  Grousey, our roving reporter



But this time, we had them banged to rights. We sent out Grousey, a radio-controlled clockwork chicken, cunningly disguised as a Red Grouse (that’s a wild bird, not a grumpy socialist) to monitor their every move….


And this is what we saw.


First of all, I have to report, dear readers, that there is NO DOG. Bruno is a figleaf of the imagination. He doesn’t exist. I suspect photoshop, to be honest. Why they should go to this length as to invent a fictitious pet is beyond us. Maybe they just wanted to appear normal or something.



Their was a meeting quite near the once-renowned country inn – The Elm Tree, in Embsay village centre – now cunningly disguised as a coffee shop – but without any coffee….


The Elm Tree Inn: doesn't serve Gourmet fresh coffee, or anything else for that matter


(You can see just how clever these two are, now, can’t you?)
Under cover of a women’s institute yoga, life drawing and belly dancing seminar, our two suspects sloped discretely off up a quiet lane and disappeared briefly into dense hillfog about 800 feet up the slopes of Crookrise Crag.

Grousey got this shot as the cloud lifted


Our roving correspondent kept track of them in the improving conditions.


Our hero, the clockwork chicken, with a nice self-timed shotLater.they were seen laughing and joking and drinking “something” out of flasks by the trig point on the top.


I think we may have been sussed - Mike, or is it Martin, is too quick for Grousey with his Thomas the Tank mask


The mist slowly cleared to reveal that both were wearing gaiters of the type commonly sported by the mountaineering classes. Already they had expounded more calories than the average Outdoor Blogger in a week of keyboarding.


Oh dear, look at those awful gaiters!


But let us continue. We must warn you that there are parts of the story coming up which decent home-loving OBs will find quite distasteful. You may wish to alter the contrast on your screens.


They was tracked in their halting progress over deep heather and across a small stream at the head of a waterfall.


Not everyone got across this chasm.  Our intrepid reporter wore its battery down at this point by having to 'go airborne'.


One of them was heard to say “Fatdog – that’s a real dog y’know” and they both laughed. Here, they managed to avoid our monitor for a while, but we picked them up again disporting themselves by a large stone Cross teetering on the edge of a beetling crag or cliff. They actually seemed to be enjoying themselves. Outrageous.

We are sure this was one of them, just visible in the blinding sunshine
And then, a bit later, they were spotted enjoying luncheon beside an obelisk or stone pepperpot, having scared off a couple of innocent day walkers, one of who was heard to say “Quick, put your clothes on, Brenda, there’s somebody coming.”


This is the highest point - Brenda is hiding


At this point, we, whilst skillfully monitoring their progress,


Grousey tries not to be distracted by the view to Grassington, Wharfedale and Buckden Pike


were beginning to wonder just exactly what it was that these two get out of this outdoor malarkey, for, given that any sensible OB would of taken the opportunity at this point to descend to the pub at Cracoe, get absolutely blotto on strong spirits and then get a taxi back to Embsay, these two, unbelievably, continued, bashing their way through deep bog and heather to visit yet another trig point.


Bit of a problem with Grousey Cam here, folks, but we think we've caught up with them at the trig (not the highest) point


And, did they then , at this point head for home? Not on your outdoor blogging nelly, they didn’t – they went North to some squalid huts,


Two bothies and a confused hobo


one of which they entered, obviously casing the joint for a possible overnight bivi (I told you this would get unpleasant, didn’t I?) and only then – only then did they find a track which led them back towards Embsay.


Grousey Cam failed, so he drew us this little picture


Behind them, the rejected bothy stood stark on the horizon in the late sun.


The rejected bothy stood stark on the horizon under a crimson sky


And, the final proof, that these two really are involved in Outdoor Activities (I know..it sticks in the craw….) they didn’t descend directly back to Embsay as they could have done. No – they used the last vestiges of daylight to visit Embsay Crag, where they brazenly took photographs and were heard laughing and joking, and waving to dog walkers and sailors below.


Turning on his infra red attachment, Grousey caught proof of this final unspeakable act


We ask you – is this the kind of behaviour we expect from Outdoor Bloggers. I mean , they’re supposed to be blogging, not traipsing about in the countryside.


We save the most damning piece of evidence till the last. They obviously did not have a stove. There was very little evidence of gear testing going on, in fact all of their stuff looked old and used. Martin Knipe looked specially old and used, in fact.


We expect you’ve had to sit down and let the shrapnel of that final devastating bombshell finish rattling around your sensibilities.


They must be Brought to Book (the capitals are important here). This is just blatant.


Comments, please…..we can’t be putting up with this.


Please send your objections and a cheque or postal order for £5 to Alan Lambert, League Against Cruel Rambles, Postcard Pie Cottage, The Flat Mile, Fenland, UK.


Finally, our SPOT activated Grousey reported the following co-ordinates for this most unusual and unexpected OB activity.


Tuesday 8 December 2009, 20 km (12 miles), 700 metres (2200 feet) ascent, 6.5 hours (400 minutes)

9 comments:

Mike Knipe said...

Hello? How've you managed this?
So I'm not paranoid after all...
Is it all right if I do the blog post about JD's route vetting comments?

Becky Boo said...

Someone has been sampling the Christmas Sherry again!

PhilW said...

Disgusting I agree. Something Should Be Done About It. Those gaiters are a real ploy to distract attention from the faces! I also note the walking poles are an attempt to give a guise of serious outdoor bloggerhood, but - no gear reviews. I rest my case.

Czech in post.

Mike Knipe said...

worra shambles, Phil - sometimes I just wish I could spell the word outragouese...
I would also use it in reply to Becky's suggestion that we may be less than completely sober.
Outraeguice.

Alan Sloman said...

Mike: As the new proprietor of your blog, I now lay claim to your Entire Stock Of Christmas Sherry (and the capitals are important here) and the inFamous Grouse.

And yes. You can now post your JD comments.

And, Relax.

Lord Elpus, hwever, lays claim to all your Helen Richard and Cliff Shapiro records. He's a right cruel bastard!

Mike Knipe said...

Alan - Don't tell Elpus about Adam Faith At the London Philharmonic or Lulu's Greatest Hits, (there's another pair you never see together) and you can have both of the remaining dregs of sherry. That Grouse is well known, if not exactly famous...

Phreerunner said...

Next time, we'll have all the same comments too.....

Anonymous said...

Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, the list is almost endless. But it is said the list is still missing one name...

The Fatdog is patiently waiting for her induction into the Mythical Creature Hall of Fame.

So who was it thought she was actually real?

Mike Knipe said...

Why have you got Santa Claus in your list, Ken?
But I'm sure we can promulgate a fatdog myth - and make a packet at the same time - little fatdog soft toys,ashtrays, dog bowls, candlesticks, cartoons of fatdog playing bagpipes and wearing a CU Jimmy wig - A fatdog visitor centre and fatdog tours - and finally, a hollywood film with really crap american/scottish accents....
I'm in!