That's because it's not giving me too much gyp at the moment. Thanks for asking. And your toe?How’s the knee ? You’ve not mentioned it for 10 minutes
M’off…. Brittany calling yet again…
- Thread starter EVskiy
- Start date
Ev has found a bike more to his pace
Trick thing that apparatus.
I am just enjoying the gentle pace of our progress…
Coffee stop…
I am just enjoying the gentle pace of our progress…
Coffee stop…
how far have you got now seeing as you old farts keep stopping for coffee (bladder of camel? ) and didnt trek 200 miles for the ferry 
Homemade Picnic at the seaside! Lovely it was too.
Got to have a bit of fun, life’s to short…
thats better
Short précis of Ev’s upcoming post
At eight o'clock Kutuzov rode to Pratz at the head of Miloradovich's fourth column, the one which was to take the place of the columns of Przebyszewski and Langeron, which had already gone down. He greeted the men of the head regiment and gave the order to move, thus showing that he intended to lead the column himself. Having ridden to the village of Pratz, he halted. Prince Andrei, one of the enormous number of persons constituting the commander in chief's suite, stood behind him. Prince Andrei felt excited, irritated, and at the same time restrainedly calm, as a man usually is when a long-desired moment comes. He was firmly convinced that this was the day of his Toulon or his bridge of Arcole.[1] How it would happen, he did not know, but he was firmly convinced that it would be so. The locality and position of our troops were known to him, as far as they could be known to anyone in our army. His own strategic plan, which there obviously could be no thought of carrying out now, was forgotten. Now, entering into Weyrother's plan, Prince Andrei pondered the possible happenstances and came up with new considerations, such as might call for his swiftness of reflection and decisiveness.
To the left below, in the fog, exchanges of fire between unseen troops could be heard. There, it seemed to Prince Andrei, the battle would concentrate, there an obstacle would be encountered, and "it's there that I'll be sent with a brigade or division, and there, with a standard in my hand, I'll go forward and crush everything ahead of me."
Prince Andrei could not look with indifference at the standards of the battalions going past him. Looking at a standard, he thought: maybe it is that very standard with which I'll have to march at the head of the troops.
By morning the night's fog had left only hoarfrost turning into dew on the heights, but in the hollows the fog still spread its milk-white sea. Nothing could be seen in that hollow to the left, into which our troops had descended and from which came the sounds of gunfire. Over the heights was a dark, clear sky, and to the right-the enormous ball of the sun. Far ahead, on the other shore of the sea of fog, one could make out the jutting, wooded hills on which the enemy army was supposed to be, and something was discernible. To the right the guards were entering the region of the fog, with a sound of tramping and wheels and an occasional gleam of bayonets; to the left, beyond the village, similar masses of cavalry approached and disappeared into the sea of fog. In front and behind moved the infantry. The commander in chief stood on the road out of the village, letting the troops pass by him. Kutuzov halted without any command, apparently because something ahead held them up.
"But tell them, finally, to form into battalions and go around the village," Kutuzov said angrily to a general who rode up. "Don't you understand, Your Excellency, my dear sir, that to stretch out in a defile through village streets is impossible when we're marching against an enemy?"
"I intended to form them up outside the village, Your Excellency," said the general.
Kutuzov laughed biliously.
"A fine sight you'd be, lining up in view of the enemy, a very fine sight!"
"The enemy's still far off, Your Excellency. According to the disposition . . ."
"The disposition!" Kutuzov exclaimed biliously. "Who told you that? . . . Kindly do as you're ordered."
"Yes, sir!"
"Mon cher," Nesvitsky said to Prince Andrei in a whisper, "le vieux est d'une humeur de chien."[2]
An Austrian officer in a white uniform with green plumes on his hat rode up to Kutuzov and asked on behalf of the emperor whether the fourth column had started into action.
Kutuzov turned away without answering him, and his gaze chanced to rest on Prince Andrei, who was standing close by. Seeing Bolkonsky, Kutuzov softened the angry and caustic expression of his gaze, as if aware that his adjutant was not to blame for what was going on. And, without answering the Austrian adjutant, he addressed Bolkonsky:
"Allez voir, mon cher, si la troisième division a dépassé le village. Dites-lui de s'arrêter et d'attendre mes ordres."[3]
Prince Andrei had only just started when he stopped him.
"Et demandez-lui si les tirailleurs sont postés," he added. "Ce qu'ils font, ce qu'ils font!"[4] he said to himself, still not answering the Austrian.
Prince Andrei galloped off to carry out his mission.
Overtaking all the advancing battalions, he stopped the third division and ascertained that there was in fact no line of riflemen in front of our columns. The regimental commander of the front regiment was very surprised by the order conveyed to him from the commander in chief to send out riflemen. The regimental commander stood there in the full conviction that there were more troops ahead of him, and that the enemy was no less than six miles away. In fact, nothing could be seen ahead but empty terrain sloping away and covered with thick fog. Having ordered on behalf of the commander in chief that the omission be rectified, Prince Andrei galloped back. Kutuzov still stood in the same place and, his corpulent body sagging over the saddle in old man's fashion, yawned deeply, closing his eyes. The troops were no longer moving, but stood at parade rest.
At eight o'clock Kutuzov rode to Pratz at the head of Miloradovich's fourth column, the one which was to take the place of the columns of Przebyszewski and Langeron, which had already gone down. He greeted the men of the head regiment and gave the order to move, thus showing that he intended to lead the column himself. Having ridden to the village of Pratz, he halted. Prince Andrei, one of the enormous number of persons constituting the commander in chief's suite, stood behind him. Prince Andrei felt excited, irritated, and at the same time restrainedly calm, as a man usually is when a long-desired moment comes. He was firmly convinced that this was the day of his Toulon or his bridge of Arcole.[1] How it would happen, he did not know, but he was firmly convinced that it would be so. The locality and position of our troops were known to him, as far as they could be known to anyone in our army. His own strategic plan, which there obviously could be no thought of carrying out now, was forgotten. Now, entering into Weyrother's plan, Prince Andrei pondered the possible happenstances and came up with new considerations, such as might call for his swiftness of reflection and decisiveness.
To the left below, in the fog, exchanges of fire between unseen troops could be heard. There, it seemed to Prince Andrei, the battle would concentrate, there an obstacle would be encountered, and "it's there that I'll be sent with a brigade or division, and there, with a standard in my hand, I'll go forward and crush everything ahead of me."
Prince Andrei could not look with indifference at the standards of the battalions going past him. Looking at a standard, he thought: maybe it is that very standard with which I'll have to march at the head of the troops.
By morning the night's fog had left only hoarfrost turning into dew on the heights, but in the hollows the fog still spread its milk-white sea. Nothing could be seen in that hollow to the left, into which our troops had descended and from which came the sounds of gunfire. Over the heights was a dark, clear sky, and to the right-the enormous ball of the sun. Far ahead, on the other shore of the sea of fog, one could make out the jutting, wooded hills on which the enemy army was supposed to be, and something was discernible. To the right the guards were entering the region of the fog, with a sound of tramping and wheels and an occasional gleam of bayonets; to the left, beyond the village, similar masses of cavalry approached and disappeared into the sea of fog. In front and behind moved the infantry. The commander in chief stood on the road out of the village, letting the troops pass by him. Kutuzov halted without any command, apparently because something ahead held them up.
"But tell them, finally, to form into battalions and go around the village," Kutuzov said angrily to a general who rode up. "Don't you understand, Your Excellency, my dear sir, that to stretch out in a defile through village streets is impossible when we're marching against an enemy?"
"I intended to form them up outside the village, Your Excellency," said the general.
Kutuzov laughed biliously.
"A fine sight you'd be, lining up in view of the enemy, a very fine sight!"
"The enemy's still far off, Your Excellency. According to the disposition . . ."
"The disposition!" Kutuzov exclaimed biliously. "Who told you that? . . . Kindly do as you're ordered."
"Yes, sir!"
"Mon cher," Nesvitsky said to Prince Andrei in a whisper, "le vieux est d'une humeur de chien."[2]
An Austrian officer in a white uniform with green plumes on his hat rode up to Kutuzov and asked on behalf of the emperor whether the fourth column had started into action.
Kutuzov turned away without answering him, and his gaze chanced to rest on Prince Andrei, who was standing close by. Seeing Bolkonsky, Kutuzov softened the angry and caustic expression of his gaze, as if aware that his adjutant was not to blame for what was going on. And, without answering the Austrian adjutant, he addressed Bolkonsky:
"Allez voir, mon cher, si la troisième division a dépassé le village. Dites-lui de s'arrêter et d'attendre mes ordres."[3]
Prince Andrei had only just started when he stopped him.
"Et demandez-lui si les tirailleurs sont postés," he added. "Ce qu'ils font, ce qu'ils font!"[4] he said to himself, still not answering the Austrian.
Prince Andrei galloped off to carry out his mission.
Overtaking all the advancing battalions, he stopped the third division and ascertained that there was in fact no line of riflemen in front of our columns. The regimental commander of the front regiment was very surprised by the order conveyed to him from the commander in chief to send out riflemen. The regimental commander stood there in the full conviction that there were more troops ahead of him, and that the enemy was no less than six miles away. In fact, nothing could be seen ahead but empty terrain sloping away and covered with thick fog. Having ordered on behalf of the commander in chief that the omission be rectified, Prince Andrei galloped back. Kutuzov still stood in the same place and, his corpulent body sagging over the saddle in old man's fashion, yawned deeply, closing his eyes. The troops were no longer moving, but stood at parade rest.
Knobhead!
240 miles due south today. Plenty of stops, some one has big ears that kept getting trapped inside the helmet linings, short fused bladder, satnav issues, of and a sore Arsey for the past 40-50 miles.how far have you got now seeing as you old farts keep stopping for coffee (bladder of camel? ) and didnt trek 200 miles for the ferry
Unfortunately at every stop , Faffskij takes about 5 minutes to reinsert his precision fit 20p foam ear plugs then we have the ritual refitting of the gloves
Soon we shall tak3 a short (ish) shlep into town for t’dinner and a few beers by marina in that’s a town of La Rochelle. A surprise visit that I did not see coming.
We’ve relived a few moments from 2021 and our trip to Spain, when Arsey had his Husky 701 LR back then.
We ended up pulling in into same fuel station where he was having issues with the rear fuel tank, as (from memory) the bike wasn’t taking any fuel from it when being switched over from the front tank. Transpired that if the tank got overfilled (absolutely brimmed), it would create and air lock/vacuum. This has become evident when the fuel cap got undone and the hissing sound was coming out. Underfilling by circa 0.5l resolved the issue.
Great days riding was had today, with plenty of scenic towns and the Sea Serpent sculpture that I’ve been wanting to come and see for nearly a year now. It is huge!
Picnic lunch at the beach, some huge ice-cream scoops were had too.
We also learned that one of our lads in the group has finally come to admit that chopping in his 1200 LC GS for an 850 GS, was a wrong move for him, ending up collecting his new to him 1250 rally GS this morning instead. Fine bike that 850, but it is certainly a wrong bike for him. I am sure he will feel right at home on this 1259 when Captain and the lads get going to Spain next month.
Shower had, thread updated, time to get dressed and meet Captain at the bar downstairs for 18:00 sharp.
More (war and piece) later.
We’ve relived a few moments from 2021 and our trip to Spain, when Arsey had his Husky 701 LR back then.
We ended up pulling in into same fuel station where he was having issues with the rear fuel tank, as (from memory) the bike wasn’t taking any fuel from it when being switched over from the front tank. Transpired that if the tank got overfilled (absolutely brimmed), it would create and air lock/vacuum. This has become evident when the fuel cap got undone and the hissing sound was coming out. Underfilling by circa 0.5l resolved the issue.
Great days riding was had today, with plenty of scenic towns and the Sea Serpent sculpture that I’ve been wanting to come and see for nearly a year now. It is huge!
Picnic lunch at the beach, some huge ice-cream scoops were had too.
We also learned that one of our lads in the group has finally come to admit that chopping in his 1200 LC GS for an 850 GS, was a wrong move for him, ending up collecting his new to him 1250 rally GS this morning instead. Fine bike that 850, but it is certainly a wrong bike for him. I am sure he will feel right at home on this 1259 when Captain and the lads get going to Spain next month.
Shower had, thread updated, time to get dressed and meet Captain at the bar downstairs for 18:00 sharp.
More (war and piece) later.
Unfortunately at every stop , Faffskij takes about 5 minutes to reinsert his precision fit 20p foam ear plugs then we have the ritual refitting of the gloves
Does this thread remind anyone esle of the Muppets?
Statler and Waldorf
Statler and Waldorf
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