Safe Return Doubtful

35 miles (56 km) – Total so far: 356 miles (573 km)

The smoke aside it was a beautiful morning at Starvation Lake and I was away a little later than usual aware that today was likely to be a shorter day.

I’ve done quite a bit of research on the route but hadnt read that there is actually another pass here between Colville and Tiger. The locals refer to it as the Tiger Pass, and though unmarked, it goes up to about 1050 metres, very gradually for the last few miles.

It’s a fast and curly downhill to the town of Tiger. Bigger than Wauconda, Tiger has two houses, one a gift shop, and the other a visitors’ centre and museum. I got lots of information from the old lady volunteering in the museum, too much in fact, and had to use all my skills to get away.

From Tiger it’s 4 miles to Ione which looked very dozy on a hot Saturday afternoon following a big festival weekend last one. Some lunch and wifi then onto the Cedar RV park. This has had good reviews on the CGOAB site and is a very good steer. Gabe, the boss, hurried over to welcome. There’s wifi, unlimited showers, and outdoor kitchen and he will put coffee on for the morning. A relaxed afternoon and maybe a beer later.

Starvation Lake at 7 am

A resort about 15 miles east from the campsite – a tremendous piece of apple pie

Looking back on the Tiger Plateau of Pass – just over 1000 metres up

The town of Tiger, and a woman who could talk for the State

Ione on a sleepy and hot Saturday lunchtime

Storytime:

Otley Cricket Club

Firstly let me say that my memory sometimes needs jogging, so I would appreciate it if anyone reading this can let me know any add-ons or corrections, even a reminder of a story I have forgotten, there were so many.

Thanks to Jimmy for pointing out that it was anchovies rather than ham that made him hurl. His wife disagrees and blames the beer. Thanks also to Jo who reminds me that the famous night in Maine was also a celebration of Nigel and Jimmy’s A Level results which they had revived that day.

Earlier, in the T20 MPTE story I alluded to the fact that our team toured each summer. These tours were legendary amongst our counterparts in cricketing circles. There was a cost, but just for the TShirt, so usually £5. All accommodation was provided, but that meant we slept in the clubs we played, and relied on their goodwill. Almost always we got that, and in many cases were welcomed back time after time, Netherfield, Ilkley and Otley most of all.

There were about ten years of tours and once Nigel was 15 he was with us. Having someone young with us really helped, as they were not supposed to have much alcohol and would be much fresher on the pitch each day. So several of his friends were co-opted also.

We arrived at York Cricket Club on a day of heavy rain. There was a sign by the gate saying ‘Tour Match Off’ and all was locked up. Disaster. Not so much the rain, as we had plenty of that over the years, but the locked club, where would we stay the night? After some deliberation we went on to the following day’s opposition, Otley. It was the first time we had visited. Fortunately for us the bar was open and on a wet night several players including the Club Captain was at the bar. It didn’t take long to sort everything out, a boat race, a late bar, and the clubhouse to sleep in. This was the start of a tremendous friendship between our clubs. We still stay in touch.

Many humorous incidents happened at Otley and most involved Nigel, but today I will restrict myself to one. He will have been 19 I guess and as many students do he had piles. And we all knew about it. Nigel was never a big drinker of beer and would usually find his way to ‘bed’ often worse for wear relatively early in the evening. ‘Bed’ in this case was a changing room or quiet corner of the clubhouse. He had stripped down to his underwear and was half in his sleeping bag fast asleep when he was the victim of a cruel prank. I am not sure the culprit (or culprits) but he had a small amount of soil from the outfield put inside the back of his white pants and some blackcurrant cordial dribbled on the undercarriage. Of course we all then forgot about it until the morning, and as he went into the shower and removed them, just said “Oh Dear”. It was later that day when he was let in on the secret, but too late for that pair of underwear, that were ‘trashed’ at the back of the fruit machine.

Many thanks to Chris and all at Otley who may remember those very special occasions.