thirtysomething...

(aka: Planes, Parachutes, and Pseudo Cujo)

Saturday was a laaaazy day. Stayed at the house, watched TV, and basically just laid around. Sunday would be the day to get out and wander around Headcorn.

We started out after lunch on Sunday. We'd heard about an Aerodrome that was close by and decided that would be our main destination for the day via Public Footpaths. It took us about 20 to 30 minutes to walk through the winding paths to the Aerodrome, which is about a mile out of town. The place was pretty cool. When we got to the field everyone there was looking up into the sky. Apparently you can learn to skydive for a modest fee. When I was a kid I always wanted to give it a try. Not so much now. Especially after seeing the 5 or so "Memorial Markers" of people who were Dead. Don't know if they died on a jump or not, but it kinda sucked the fun out of the possibility of a jump. From there we walked over to the Lashenden Air Warfare Museum. Two buildings filled with wrecked WWII plane parts, engines, turbochargers, placards, WWI uniforms, and the like. I'm thinking about Twin Charging the MINI with one of the turbochargers that was on display. It measured about two feet in diameter and about a foot thick. Wow. Probably have to mount it in the boot, cause that thing was huge. Wonder how long it would take to spin it up... Anyway, after wandering around the museum and airfield for awhile, we decided to head out and make our way back to the village by a different route. We found a footpath without too much trouble, but following the trail, now that was a different matter. After a few turn-arounds we finally began to make headway. Walked the edge of a few fields FILLED with sheep. Saw some horses as well. Cresting one hill we spooked a red fox that took off. Tried to get a shot of it, but man that thing was fast.

Ok, now things get tricky. We'd been following the footpath with some ease by now. We came up to a point where 4 fields came together, and there was a crossing step to continue on the footpath. We crossed over, looked around and couldn't tell where the path went from there. The field to the right had horse in it and the field to the left had a "Beware of Dog" sign. Ok, lets go Right. Walking down the edge of the field, the horse noticed us and slowly started walking our way. Heather is definitely not a fan of horses milling about, especially if they are milling about towards her. We get to the end of the field and guess what. No exit. Great. We turn around and head back the way we came. The whole time Heather's watching the horse while trying not to step in horse poo. I, on the other hand, am watching the next field over for signs of the dog. About halfway back Heather says the horse is coming towards us, and about the same time I say, "Heather, there's the dog." It was about 50 yards away.

It isn't a small dog either. Big, black, scary looking dog. And he looks wet. In my head I'm thinking "Cujo". The wetness could be blood, ya never know. Great. Mauled & left for dead in some random field near Headcorn. At this point he hadn't noticed us. By the time I actually thought that, his head picked up and, Oh Crap. "Heather, the dog sees us. What ever you do, Don't Run."

We began walking faster to the step where we entered the field. Now the dog is running towards us. There is a large gate that separates the dog's field from the one we are in, and Oh How Convenient, there's also an UN-GATED pass big enough for a person to walk through. I turned back to Heather and said "Come On. Hop the Fence". The dog is 15 feet away and the step is in His field. I'm over the 4 foot fence in a quarter of a second like Jessie Owens in the '36 Olympics, only covered in camera gear.

Oh Crap. I just jumped the fence and left my wife on the other side with some crazy psycho Cujo dog. Maybe she needs some help. DUH.

Turn around and she's got one leg up on the fence & hopping up and down. And The Dog Is Right There. Luckily, the three of us are all in separate fields separated by fences. Split rail fences. That dog can come threw any time he damn well feels like it. Great.

Uh. Nice Doggy? Who's a Gooood Boooy? Good Doggie...

Turns out, he was a good doggie, and wet (no it wasn't blood...) And I still left my wife on the other side of the fence. I Swear I thought she was RIGHT BEHIND ME. Really. Looking back, it's kinda humorous. At the time we didn't think so, and Heather REALLY didn't think so. She wanted me to tell the same story from her point of view, but I don't think I'd be able to do it justice. I'll try to get her to write it out for yaz.

From this point on we followed (mostly) the footpaths back to Headcorn with only a few minor deviations. The dog followed us all the way to the train tracks and then disappeared. We should have followed the dog, he was walking the footpath and we weren't. :shrug: He did spook out a pheasant for us to see. That was cool. We walked back through town, had a pot of tea & scones at the local Tea Room and headed on home. Out and back it was probably about 5 or 6 miles total. Especially with all the backtracking.

I don't think I did this story justice, but anyways, there it is.

Lessons Learned: 1. Buy a map of the area (with footpaths on it) 2. Push Heather over the fence FIRST, Then pet the nice doggie.

Click the Pic to see more from this adventure. Sorry, no pictures of the dog, fox or pheasant. :shrug: