New Forest Part III

Squeezing two stories…

… out of one job is bad enough but going for the third is pure Hollywood flog the formula to death- still if it works for them!

Naturally by this time the big money stars Richard and Jarno are long gone and Rob with his budget blown is looking for someone cheap, me!

When I’d cleared off the first time it had occurred to me that felling and milling was only part of the slog and moving several tonnes of timber 40 miles to Rob’s yard was not going to be fun.

So I headed off to Ireland…

… to see the cousins and keep out of Rob’s way until it had been done. I made the major mistake of telling him when I would be back and I was just arriving at Derry airport for the return flight when Rob was on the phone asking me to help.

He reckoned he had been too busy to move it before (actually he had). I still had a couple of days holiday, so I foolishly agreed to donate one of them to him.

I’ve hired a big truck…

… and it will be mostly sitting in the passengers seat all day, he says. The truck turned out to be extremely rusty and not big enough to shift the pile. To make matters worse he slipped into the conversation that I would be driving his 6 wheel Landrover and Beavertail trailer piled with wood.

The beast has an overall length of 40 feet and driving it on the narrow forest single track roads is as much fun as a fart in a space suit- but more of that later, potater.

Arriving at the job…

… Rob did his customary bullish declaration, I reckon I’ll have this lot moved today. As he trotted off to fire up the skidsteer I thought, you’ll be lucky.

Rob rapidly piled about 9 of the biggest bits on with the effect that the truck looked like that one legged woman Eileen. It was in fact leaning badly to the right and would have attracted Mr Ministry and his foul friend Mr Weigh – Bridge.

We managed to get ...

... a couple off but it was very difficult and took ages. Inevitably disaster struck inching the last three to be moved over and they came crashing off. Rob looks a bit stressed (picture below) but I was delighted as they made great pictures.

We were both pleased that as a precaution we had moved the car that had been parked there - I expect the owner was too. Now that would have been a great shot.

A swig of water and ...

a fag and Rob soon got it sorted to a transportable load. He's pretty good at bouncing back and he was about to have another opportunity.

With the Landy hitched and turned round - I let him do it - it's a bit tricky, we set off. Trying to fight through the holiday bound morons going in the opposite though the forest is hard work. They cannot/will not give way or move off the road.

To turn left...

... you need to get over to the other side and nobody wanted to let me- well that my excuse why I hit the nearside kerb and knackered the front tyre of the trailer. Still it made a nice bang so I didn't need Rob flashing and tooting at me to stop.. I stopped.

Actually, the ol' boy was very good about it, especially as they cost £120 each. There was a spare but unlike the canoeist who was up a brown and smelly creek without a paddle we were without a Jack.

I had the good sense...

... to ruin his trailer right outside a farm. Rob went off and used his charm on the farmer's wife who phoned her husband who dropped what he was doing a few miles away and came to help. His help was swift, simple and impressive... he gave us a bit of wood, well two bits actually.

If you have read a very old newsletter you'll know that once Brian and I had a puncture on another four wheeler in a field and had dug down to get the wheel off- that stunt is no good on tarmac. The trick was simply to drive the none flat wheel on to the wood, thus allowing the flat one to be removed and new one popped off .

My dodgy driving...

... is not as bad as the two old girls bowling along in their Nissan Micra straight through one red light closely followed by another. After the third the passenger says "Doris, that's the third red light you've been through" " Oh christ, am I driving?" was the disconcerting reply.

In the meantime...

Brian the old fixer was fixing it for Francis our local and very helpful farmer to be waiting with his manitou at the other end to off load.

This enabled a second surprisingly trouble free run back to the forest for a second load. You can say what you like about Rob (Many do!) but he learns quick and this time the lorry was loaded perfectly in 25 minutes and before you could say get a move on, we had and were on the way back.

For no good reason...

... whatsoever I want to tell you about an Englishman, Irishman and Scotsman who were keen to show to that their own watering holes were the best.

"Back hooomee in ma pub if you buy four pints the Landlord gives us the fifth free," boasts the Scot. The Englishman opines that in his club in Surrey you only have to buy three pints to get a free one.

"Well", says Paddy. "Back home in moi village the drinks are free all night and after that you can go upstairs and have as much sex as you loike."

Naturally the other two admit defeat and press for more information. We must admit that sounds great, do you go there often? "Actually, it wasn't me it was my sister," he reveals.

Meanwhile, back to the timber story, I clear off home and Rob moves the rest over the next week.