Birthday Best

For many people, a birthday is a time for celebration. Friends and family gather gather around, parties ensue and it typically a wonderful time is had by all.

For me, my most recent birthday was none of these things. In the place of ballons and cakes was terror and paranoia.

In my most recent post, I mentioned the birthday tradition at Palmer Sport. Whoever the lucky birthday person is gets systematically rounded up, thrown in a vehicle, and dragged (sometimes kicking and screaming) to the local pond and pitched in. One day prior to my birthday an anonymous source from American filled in the Palmer Sport directors on my birthday and the secret was out of the bag.

Naturally I wasn't too keen to be throw in a pond, especially by a bunch of Brits. When I arrived at work, on my birthday, I realized I might have just gotten lucky. I had been scheduled for the best possible position. My job for the day was instructor at the Caterham pursuit course. I was stationed in what is effectionatly known as the 'jungle hut,' a two story fort which our guests stay in between their sessions on the off-road 4x4 course and the Caterham pursuit. While the jungle hut is an appropriate name given to the fortification near the woods, I thought the 'Alamo' would be an even more appropriate name. Knowing what would be coming for me I brought my Texas flag, a water gun, and a bucket full of water ballons. Perhaps it would be enough to deter any 'would be' attackers and I could make it through the day without getting soaked.

The first part of the day was going smashingly. There were a few minor attacks by the chief instructor and others, but the water gun had been enough to send them packing. However it seemed like more of the water bombs were getting thrown at me by my other colleagues than I was throwing at them!

By lunch time I was seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Rather than eating in the cateen, the area for instructors to eat lunch, I chose instead to go off-site and eat get a bite in the local town. Along with me I brought one of my colleagues, Brad Dude. I knew going to the canteen would result in certain dunking as I would be exposed to all of the instructors on their lunch break. It was in fact this 'good idea' that would be the begining of the end.

After eating in town, Brad Dude, suggested we stop at one of the suites and get a drink. What seemed like a great idea at the time started to smell a bit fishy when one of my other colleagues was waiting outside that very suite, this tipped me off and inside I could see the odd head sticking out from around the corner. It turned out, I had a double-agent as my lunch companion and it was an innovative trap to get me out of a car, into the suite. I immediately ditched the idea of the drink and I took off for the safety of the Alamo's defense systems.

Unfortunantely for me, the half dozen instructors who were waiting for me in the suite had sworn an oath as suicide bombers who would not be detered with their own soaking. Sure enough the alamo was under siege by fanatical, water bucket wielding Palmer Sport instructors. Although they took their shots, the end result was six buckets full of water getting dumped all over me.

Not five minutes later, the guests arrived and I was soaked head to toe. Sure enough I carried on in my most professional manner possible. An hour later (and mostly dried) I had a quick break where I could make my way back to my car and get a spare set of clothes I had brought for just this occasion.

There was one more group of guests I was to instruct and I was sure I would be able to make it without getting thrown in the pond. They had 'gotten me' but I had stayed out of the water. Things were going great with the last group and I was satified with the compromise of getting the bucket's rather than getting thrown in. As the final runs were taking place, things took a terrible turn for the worse. On the horizon driving towards the alamo was a fleet of Palmer Sport Jaguar XKR's, Seat's, Pathfinders, and Caterhams.

I realized things had not came to an end and in fact the battle was just begining. The armada of vehicles pulled in front of the Alamo and I was busy re-loading my water cannon. With fantastic range and accuracy most of the instructors getting out were within range and were hesitant to get any closer. Clearly these were not as convinced as the lunch time fantatics.

To the cheers of a group of Palmer Sport guests, I gave up my superior position and I bolted through the crowd of instructors, water bombs and water guns blazing a path. I immediately jumped into one of the Jaguar's which had arrived on the scene and gave myself an immediate crash course on operating the gearbox and paddle shifters. The escape path was clear and I knew I couldn't be stopped at this point as the V8 roared to life.

The race was on, however it wouldn't last long as I got stuck on a one-way run off road. I bailed from my escape vehicle and took off into the field relying on my years of athletic training for escape. I looked over my shoulder and there were two red clad instructors who had boxed me in, on the one way road. After what must have been a quarter mile into the field they were loosing ground and I was planning my next move. Suddenly out of no where a black Pathfinder came bearing down on me through the field, splashing through ankle deep water in far less effort than I was expending to travel the same distance. As it closed, I could see the huge smile of one Stuart Saggers from the drivers window. After another quarter mile of attempting to outsprint the Pathfinder I saw it stop and Stuart Saggers took to a foot race. Now thoroughly tired from outrunning the first one's he was able to out sprint me and finally grabbed me wrestling me to the ground. It wasn't a few moments later three more red-clad holligans had me by the arms and legs and were carrying me towards the pond.

The inevitable was under weigh and a few minutes later I was trying to figure out which way was up, and how deep could this pond possibly be? After a good laugh from everyone present I climbed onto the pier and had to make the half mile track back to the office. Someone gave me a tip on a shower on premises. I walked straight in, clothes and all, and rinsed off the pond water. Thinking the fun was had by all I headed back towards my car and off to the pub to join a few of my friends.

Halfway back to my car I noticed a Palmer Sport mini-van circulating the parking lot.

Within the fourteen seater bus was atleast eight red-clad individuals. Although I didn't want to accept what it was initially, when the bus pulled a 180' and headed towards me, the mini-bus's mission became clear. Immediately I bolted, relying on my ability to seriously 'leg it.' The mini-bus side door opened and a swarm of red came pouring out. I was heading in towards the mechanics work shop, a place I was sure I could slip through and out to the car park on the other side and freedom. However the slick floor of the workshop did not provide good grip for changing of directions and once again, I was covered up by red. I was dragged into the mini-bus, which was on a one way trip to the pond....

Sure enough once again, I was taken back to the pond, and thrown in.

Thankfully this would be my last time into the pond on this particular afternoon. The 16" fish I am pretty sure were tired of me and I even felt a few bites on my fingers. Soaked from head to toe I made my way to the pub and joined everyone for a proper birthday party.

In the end it was a fun birthday. I did get buckets of water dumped on me, thrown into a pond... twice.

I hope you are all doing well, I have dried up, and I expect the emotional scarring will heal soon.

Wettest regards

Michael