martinemonster (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
martinemonster) wrote2008-04-17 09:34 am
martinemonster) wrote2008-04-17 09:34 am
Why I would not be part of the fellowship of the rings
Me and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aj_stalin have a running gag on what would happen if we were part of the Fellowship of the Rings. It's great fun to think about how we'd complain about how our shoes were wet and how tired we are. But yesterday, I got to test out how it would feel to climb Charadharas (you know, that mountain with all the snow on it), and well, not to put too fine a point on it, I would politely decline to join the Fellowship of the Rings. But the world is ending and if we cannot bring the ring to the fires of Mount Doom, we will lose, you might say. Tough, I'd answer. I'm still not gonna go. Let the world burn.
Now, I will tell you the story of how this decision was made. I will call it
It was Wednesday the 16th, and me and45hasle had planned to go see the place where our larp is to be held. There were many signs for why we shouldn't do this. First off, I hadn't slept that night, writing characters for the larp from 2 a.m. to 7 a.m. As if that wasn't enough, we had to go all the way out to his parents' place to get the car. And in addition, I had lots to do that day. But 45hasle was sure we could do it easily so I agreed.
We reached Baerum okay, but as we walked towards his house, the phone rang (forshadowing number 2 so far). It was his dad who told him he'd taken the car we were supposed to borrow. But45hasle made the compelling argument that since we'd gotten this far, it was too late to turn back and borrowed his grandma's car.
We got the keys to the cabin we were supposed to inspect, but the lady giving it to us asked if we were sure we'd get in there. There might still be snow (foreshadowing number 3). But45hasle said that his dad had told him there was not much snow left. So we drove up there and looked at the road we'd want to drive up to the cabin. It was covered in snow so we couldn't bring the car and would have to continue on foot.
Now here is where I again suggested we'd turn back, but even though I was wearing a short shirt, small shoes and was busy drinking coffee out of a paper cup, even I realized that after spending several hours getting this far, turning back instead of taking a short 3 km walk through the woods was not a real option.
But it wasn't a short walk. We waded through the snow, deceptively light at first, but then gradually getting worse and worse. And there were many signs that we should turn back, but we pressed on. I was losing my shoes for every three steps as we forced our way forwards through the crotch-deep snow. And I fell, and I fell again. But we pressed on. For about 2 hours. Through the snow. Much like the Fellowship as Gandalf pushed them on until the hobbits were near death,45hasle pushed forward until I was near tears and I couldn't feel my feet.
But in the end we had to turn back and go home. Never finding that elusive cabin they all tell us exist, never even reaching our goal. And my legs still hurt. I'm full of bruises and I've gotten a bit of a cold. Worst of all, I think my pretty, black shoes will never be the same again. What one should call this type of trip I'm not rightly sure, but I've decided to name it an epic failure.
aj_stalin have a running gag on what would happen if we were part of the Fellowship of the Rings. It's great fun to think about how we'd complain about how our shoes were wet and how tired we are. But yesterday, I got to test out how it would feel to climb Charadharas (you know, that mountain with all the snow on it), and well, not to put too fine a point on it, I would politely decline to join the Fellowship of the Rings. But the world is ending and if we cannot bring the ring to the fires of Mount Doom, we will lose, you might say. Tough, I'd answer. I'm still not gonna go. Let the world burn. Now, I will tell you the story of how this decision was made. I will call it
It was Wednesday the 16th, and me and
45hasle had planned to go see the place where our larp is to be held. There were many signs for why we shouldn't do this. First off, I hadn't slept that night, writing characters for the larp from 2 a.m. to 7 a.m. As if that wasn't enough, we had to go all the way out to his parents' place to get the car. And in addition, I had lots to do that day. But 45hasle was sure we could do it easily so I agreed. We reached Baerum okay, but as we walked towards his house, the phone rang (forshadowing number 2 so far). It was his dad who told him he'd taken the car we were supposed to borrow. But
45hasle made the compelling argument that since we'd gotten this far, it was too late to turn back and borrowed his grandma's car. We got the keys to the cabin we were supposed to inspect, but the lady giving it to us asked if we were sure we'd get in there. There might still be snow (foreshadowing number 3). But
45hasle said that his dad had told him there was not much snow left. So we drove up there and looked at the road we'd want to drive up to the cabin. It was covered in snow so we couldn't bring the car and would have to continue on foot. Now here is where I again suggested we'd turn back, but even though I was wearing a short shirt, small shoes and was busy drinking coffee out of a paper cup, even I realized that after spending several hours getting this far, turning back instead of taking a short 3 km walk through the woods was not a real option.
But it wasn't a short walk. We waded through the snow, deceptively light at first, but then gradually getting worse and worse. And there were many signs that we should turn back, but we pressed on. I was losing my shoes for every three steps as we forced our way forwards through the crotch-deep snow. And I fell, and I fell again. But we pressed on. For about 2 hours. Through the snow. Much like the Fellowship as Gandalf pushed them on until the hobbits were near death,
45hasle pushed forward until I was near tears and I couldn't feel my feet. But in the end we had to turn back and go home. Never finding that elusive cabin they all tell us exist, never even reaching our goal. And my legs still hurt. I'm full of bruises and I've gotten a bit of a cold. Worst of all, I think my pretty, black shoes will never be the same again. What one should call this type of trip I'm not rightly sure, but I've decided to name it an epic failure.
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Also, in case of zombie attack, I'd wear pants and different shoes. So there.
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Nice to see you again on Saturday btw. Too long since we've had coffee.
You have my sympathies
Look on the bright side: at least you did not get frostbite, and you now have a great story to tell when you are sharing some drinks at a party.
Re: You have my sympathies
Re: You have my sympathies
Any odd colors? I am often surprised at the variety of colors that can come from bruises. I swear some of them look like a 5 year old went crazy with a box of crayons.
Re: You have my sympathies
I'm on LJ!
I'm G :)
Re: I'm on LJ!
May I ask why?
Re: I'm on LJ!
I think I will write a post about it on my LJ actually...
Re: I'm on LJ!
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