The sun came out and we found ourselves a nice quiet gravelly lay-by to lie down in and eat our left over egg and tomato baps. No sooner as we’d placed the bread to our lips, a huge rumble came booming through the trees. A giant dust cloud forming, we just had time to lift our feet when the mother of all logging trucks shuddered past. He was a biggen! Brushing the dust off the bun, and picking the grit out of the butter (and my eyes) we looked at each other. “So there was some logging eh!” :) Feeling vindicated that there had been a good reason to miss a chunk of the forest trail, we felt better as we made our way onwards, the only way left, to town… A good chance there’ll be an Irish Pub in Sannon?
I was seriously questioning wether there was any logging going on at all until Optimus Prime came roaring past. The retarded thing is - by the look of the maps, the section of our trail that’s closed only shares a couple of miles with the logging tracks, by detouring around it we’re actually exposed to much more logging traffic I suspect? Anyhow, Owls await, off we go.
So hungry… Must have ham sandwich… How much?? … Whatever, take the money… Grrruuunnmmmppphhhlllmmmnnnch :p Nom nom.
Yey! A secret sign pointing the way. Clearly we’re behind again… ;) They must be round here somewhere. We’re reading the boot prints like pro trackers now ;) Quick! We can catch ‘em!