If you still find your way home after a few of those…
I had to walk round a little wooded area that always struck me as being a waste of time if I could just cut through.
One night after a few snakebites, it struck me as a sterling idea to find out. I scaled the fence and cut across. There was a bit of a valley where I’d to go down and then up, so down I trudged. The further down I went, the worse the terrain was. Grass became bushes became thick brambles, and the firm earth became softer and wetter.
It became one of those things where, especially with a couple of ales sloshing about, I was thinking “well, I’ll not do this again, but I’m almost halfway there, might as well press on.”
It got worse, up to the fetlocks in slutch and cut to ribbons, but with my beer overcoat to protect me I’m thinking “well, I’m f’ked if I’m turning back now after all this.”
Just as it was getting almost impenetrable, I got to the halfway point, and discovered the hitherto unnoticed river cutting the area in half.
Arse.