Turf Blog 10-07-25

The Game of Turf can sometimes be a strange beast, or perhaps it’s just me that’s strange and I’ve no doubt that some of you reading this will be nodding your heads. Aye, turfing with a fat bike, or a Brompton, turfing at silly o-clock and others better not mentioned. Recently, and not for the first time, I’ve had little interest in turfing. Yes, I’m still taking zones most days but not for any real purpose other than mere exercise. Not for medals, not for points, or league positions, or anything else, just because. Perhaps just because I’ve been doing this game for over 4-years now and it feels wrong if I don’t head out every day.

However, sometimes, something comes along and fires up those dormant turf-neurons, perhaps an exotic turf particle, light-speeding across the Cosmos, chances to be in just the right place at the right moment, to strike the part of my brain where turf resides, firing it up and giving me a welcome boost of encouragement. Of course, it also needs to coincide with some significant new turf events that attracts my interest. In this case, initially a new turf zone, NotBonny, located only a few minutes from the house, and later that same day, a turfer unique appearing in Dalkeith, both things I’m interesting in collecting.

So, here we are, two small turf-things, an FTT and a TvT, and I’m cooking with gas again, as the saying goes. So much so that I’ve been out turfing at silly o-clock on the past two nights, first on foot around Dalhousie castle and last night down to Aberlady Bay with the fat bike. Dalhousie was wonderfully quiet, as you might expect. Took all the zones on neutral, so lots of extra points. Nearly crapped myself when Mr Badger burst out under my feet and there was a car with some suspicious goings-on at the field entrance. Note, it was silly o’clock, so what were they up to? I gave them a wide berth.

Aberlady Bay was simply wonderful, just me, the fat bike and a few seabirds calling offshore. You know, we have this truly serene location only a few miles from one of the largest cities in Scotland yet here I am with the place all to myself. I cannot understand why people aren’t flocking here by the hundred? Okay, I know, it’s gone past midnight on a week day, folks have work to go to the following day and so on. Then again, come to think of it, why am I encouraging people by telling them how great this place is? So, on second thought, it’s terrible here, very lonely, scary out on the sand flats and there’s quick sand everywhere as well. Oh, and the ticks are the size of bumblebees and very vicious. Best if you don’t come visit.

Actually, that reminds me of something I wanted to cover tonight, the topic of quicksand. In recent years, signs have appeared warning of the dangers of quicksand and I’ve encountered the stuff twice in the past. On both occasions I suddenly found that one leg sank to the knee. Luckily, I was quick enough to get free and on both instances the quicksand was in a patch of water-logged sand beside an obstacle, i.e. some rocks and the wooden remains of a wrecked ship. So, what should you do if you encounter quicksand?

Okay, let’s assume you have sunk up to both knees in quicksand. What should you do? The secret is to spread your weight and increase your buoyancy. Remember, quicksand is simply sand and water and you will float. So, lie back and spread as much of your body as possible on the surface. Then gently wiggle your legs one at a time and gradually pull them from the sand. Finally, belly-crawl your way to safer sand. Literature suggests that quicksand isn’t the real problem, its actually drowning when the tide comes in that’s the main cause of fatalities. Anyway, be careful and watch where you step or ride your fat bike.

The tide times were not ideal this evening. Low tide was around 8.00 pm but I managed to take the two zones at the midget submarine wrecks with around 30-minutes to spare. And I did manage to be in just the right place for the rise of the full moon around 10.00pm. Quite a sight as I slowly crept into the sky from behind the Garleton hills. The full moon this month is known as a buck moon, which I rather like. One final thing. There were oodles of crickets chirping away in the long grass around the golf course. I’d really love to catch, or at least see one, so another visit will be planned soon.

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