(Reflections on Day 3 of the Scottish 6-Day 1991 reproduced from Lokation 79. I believe it’s normal to apologise to Wordsworth at this point.)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
Upon a distant Scottish hill,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
Not one of them was standing still,
Beyond the lake, above the trees,
And there amongst them Helen Teece.
Continuous as the stars that shine,
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line,
But only eight from LOK,
I gave the map a hopeful glance,
I’m in the circle now perchance.
The pack ran left, and then ran right,
And up and down, and to and fro,
But number five was out of sight,
Full fifty metres down below,
And then it struck me clear as day,
I’m off the map by half a k.
For oft when on my couch I lie,
And contemplate this sport of O,
I wonder how I passed five by,
And why didn’t Ian or Tim or Ro,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And least I didn’t count Bowhill.