Friday, January 15, 2010

Big Dav Transcends Mount Doom

Heading home from the waves down south yesterday my pocket buzzed and I left one eyeball on the road so t'other could read a text from brother Wilbur. The lad needed collecting, he'd just arrived at Shannon airport. Without thinking I started drawing what I thought would be the straightest route from me to him. Up through the hills. Follow the trusty nose into the wilderness. I love these little missions. After a half hour or so of climbing though, the road began to get pretty damn icy. I kept plodding along in my old transit van Big Dav, but soon enough I was skidding left right and centre as the lane I was negotiating became more of a runway into the abyss. There was no way to stop, no way to go back. Braking was certain doom. The only thing keeping me going forward was momentum and a little acceleration. I pressed on for sometime by the skin of my plums, but eventually of course, I slid miserably into a hedge. It was pitch black. Freezing cold. I had no phone reception. I had no idea where I was. Suddenly out of the pine trees comes a wild lookin old geez carrying a chain saw. I kid you not, for a second I thought I was done. After we'd established he didn't want to hack me into pieces though, dude turned out to be a quality ol' pard. He advised me to keep going. It was ten miles or so to safety, heading back would be worse. I hiked a little higher to reception and phoned the boys. Come save me brothers. Half an hour later they tracked me down. Ferg, Lowey and Patch armed with Relentless landrover. Sigh of relief. Thank fuck for friends. Little did we know the journey was just beginning. It took us 3 hours to crawl ten miles across the thickest blue ice I've seen on a road. You couldn't even stand on it. Draggin Big dav up hills, then lowering him precariously down the other side became standard procedure. Of course it went tits up plenty of times, and we hedged Dav more than thrice, almost sending him to his doom at one point. We almost left Dav to weather the deep freeze. In the end though, Fergs drivin, Patches knot tying, Loweys man strength, and my determined cackle's got us through to the other side. Now Wilburs safe and settled in Moybeg, and we have an epic memory of a not so standard airport run. Gotta love the unexpected. Thanks fellas.