Neal arrived shortly after 10am, with a very pale-faced Sonic on tow. He was muttering and spluttering about feeling awful, which is really not like him. Not that he doesn't milk an illness, it's just that he knows it's useless trying to milk it with me ;-) After about 10 minutes they decided to push on the Rowardenan and then make decision from there on in. As Peter (Neal's father-in-law) was meeting us they, the guys had the chance to split up if need be. They trotted off and I jumped in the car to drive away, then I caught sight of Marco being held up by a tree and watering the roots with his projectile vomiting. There was a lot of fluid coming up. I was guessing that the cold coffee, banana milk and salty energy drink wasn't a good combo. You'd think, eh? Well, whatever came up did the trick as he was fine coming into Rowardenan. I felt more sick pacing up and down the carpark waiting for him to appear.
The set off to take on the notorious lochside, and we set off on the long journey to really only travel a short distance.
At Beinglas, a little support network had gathered. Thomas and Silke had stopped by on their way back from St Fillins and JK and Katrina just happened to be, erm, no way near the area. JK had treated his wife to lunch at Drover's Inn and then subtly dropped in the "did I forget to mention...". I'm sure the guys were delighted to see everyone out to cheer them on. We had brought up all the stuff from the car, so they could take whatever they needed. Of course, Neal had decided he wanted to change his shoes and socks and sent me back for them. Given the state of my legs, running back to the car is probably the nicest thing I've done all year;-) They hung about for far too long. Sonic said it was because they felt guilty about shooting off so quickly. Uh hum. Likely story. Later they told me the gathering at Beinglas was the highlight of the day.
Thomas joined them for a few miles. Watching three pairs of Skins compression shorts leaving the campsite was quite comical. Especially considering they're marketed as a prevention for sporting injuries...and all three of them were hobbling in pain.
We met them at Derrydarroch and then again the A82 crossover - this part was all too familiar to me. I was glad I was the one taking the pictures this time. Tom made his excuses to bow out, whilst Sonic had a bonding moment with a packet of babywipes. I nearly got taken out by a truck running over the road to get said babywipes.