It's two weeks later and I'm tring to remember what happened on this run, prompted by the statistics already available. All I can remember was setting off from the beer stop with Fiddler to do the rambos section with an envelope in my hand and a solemn promise made to Baldbrick not to open it until prompted on the trail. As we turned to head towards the sky on an ever-ascending serpent, I had already deduced what to me was the obvious. That was, that the envelope would instruct us to retrace our steps and follow the wimps trail. My suspicions were confirmed and, although I ended back at the A-site before Fiddler, I had satisfied myself that he was close enough to town not to get too lost. It was a fine run on a sunny day and dodging the motorbikes at the start and the finish was an added challenge.