Wednesday, 25 June 2008

Life as an intergalactic tomato sauce breather...

Imagine if you will that you have evolved to live and breathe in an
atmosphere of tomato sauce and bayleaves. That your home is in a
covered bowl of fettucine napolitana. That you live outside it for a
lot of the day in an alien environment that covers you in muddy sand
and grot. That when you get home at night, it's raining. You have to
climb on to the rim of the bowl, shed your party gear plus about a
kilo of S & G and get self and PG into bowl proper leaving as much S &
G on the rim as possible. Then it starts to get difficult - remove
doorway, get head and torso under lid over bowl and then one leg
across first strands of fetticine, about a 3 foot drop into bowl, so
lots of upper body tension as you hang off a handle under the lid,
ease down into bowl avoiding chunks of capsicum, disentangle
appendages from more fett., balance precariously while negotiating
second leg between tomato and onion, transfer vital goodies, weighing
about as much as a small elephant - laptop & camera in back-pack,
phone etc - across arms length distance and more fett. - fall face
first - recover - remove boots one by one, reach across for interior
Beijing slippers, balance precariously while wriggling feet in turn
into slippers, replace covering and rain guard over entrance, place
first leg across more fett and around capsicum across bowl, balance
precariously while transferring backpack etc across and around strands
- fall face first - reach small space between strands and chunks -
remove outer clothing and collapse into bunk. Remember that you have
forgotten to clean teeth - reverse collapse....etc.

MJC - I spent about 6 months in Cooktown back in the '60s and climbed
the hill Cook climbed to try to see a way through the reef after
careening Endeavour. Without looking at chart, I think Point Barrow is
around 71N so we have a chance to emulate the numbers, but certainly
not the achievement.

Today, I will do the tomato sauce routine again with the gearbox and
try to hang it off the back of the donk. If that works, we'll try to
put the whole shebang back on its mounts and then its back to rib
damage while I connect it all up again. Readjust all cables and test
gear function with engine stopped. Iff that works, one more check to
make sure it's all there, then bleed, prime, take heart in mouth and
turn the key. That is probably at least 48 hours away.

The weather looks awful for about a week so there is no immediate need
to push - time to take it slowly and get it right.

Appendages please!