homepage Forums Air Combat & Civil Aviation Battle of Britain + Battle of Britain II Here's what happened (Continued)

Folks,

I see by the counters that a few of the less faint hearted among you have been nibbling on this mess and no doubt in your kind concern for my feelings you have somehow managed not to appropriately comment. I thank you for that concern and, in spite of my best intentions, no doubt I will shortly be deserving of even more wrathful comments.

Continued from above:

At Drubbin's barn, the rain seemed to be tapering off. The reception markedly improved and, huddled around the wireless located in the barn, we were finally appraised of happenings at Rooster's Crest. Two spotters had witnessed Sapple's fall and rushed to his immediate aid. At first there had been a rather thoughtless shout of elation from MG's fans. Then, as the report of Sapple's possible injuries came in, all present fell into a more appropriate and respectful silence. Spirits rose and there was a spontaneous shout of pleasure from all when it was soon reported that Adam was up and hobbling around, apparently not seriously injured. This was soon followed by the report that Adam's expensive "Go Faster" brand racing bike was a crumpled, broken wreck. There was a muffled groan from the Sapple crowd when it was announced that there was therefore no hope Sapple could continue the race. No one seemed to know where MG was. We began listening closely to the static coming from the wireless once more.

At Deadman's bridge it was still raining very hard. Thunder rolled and lightning was a real threat to everyone, especially to those thoughtless, rather inebriated souls standing or lying about in their own blood and or vomit, collapsed in the Stygian dark under the tree. The terrible weather also hampered any remaining rescue efforts at the bridge as well and made any hope of organizing any racers not yet disabled by drink or the combat under the tree. Several ambulatory racers had by now retreated back to the center of the road and were presently just sitting there removing their skates or simply feeling, cold, dejected and miserable.

The air had markedly cooled and a thick fog had been developing down in the hollows. Now it began to move into the curve of the road precisely where the racers were now sitting. For all intents and purposes it was evident to anyone who still cared that the annual blindfolded endurance race had already ended before it really had gotten started.

About a quarter mile away from the bridge and above the fog, an excited but very weary MG was just now beginning to pedal the final bit downhill toward the finish line. He knew he had left Sapple far behind though he was not aware of what had happened to his worthy opponent. The Dane was now running completely on adrenaline and a desperate personal desire to make the best possible time. Bikers are like that you know. That could be why you never hear them called "smart" bikers. Or maybe not?

Wheels singing as he plowed through the rain, MG rushed along, whipped by rain and threatened to be blown off course by the wind. He was cold, weary, soaked to the skin, bleeding from many cuts and scratches, and growing ever nearer to both the bridge and, unknowingly, also to the huddled mass of disgruntled racers, oblivious to the two wheeled fury bearing down on them. They were just sitting there in a great puddle situated in the middle of a foggy road like sacrificial ducks floating on a dark pond.


Picturing in his mind both the curve and bridge ahead, he blindly continued his pedaling unabated. At that pregnant moment as he neared the curve, there was a flash of light and a crash of thunder. Not knowing what it was, MG heard the splintering of the very tree the quitters and several injured racers were still under. There was a loud cracking of the splitting of ancient wood and the sound of falling timber as the old tree fell upon the road and those squatting on it....

MG had had only one hundred yards to go before the curve. He could not see much for the fog as he followed the road he could still see right in front of him. Still traveling at what I hesitate to call breakneck speed, he now entered the curve....

TO BE CONTINUED