The gate's locked, the hill's blocked. Alan and Paul creep up on the hill, one sneaking up from the base, the other bringing up a rear guard action across the top.
They're rewarded with smooth, light lift in the crisp dry air and have a mighty fine afternoon on the Downs. The only challenge they face is stopping their landing roll-outs along the ice.
the Fusion heads out
After the physical strain of the ascent, Paul tries to
silently cack one off. It doesn't escape the wily eared Alan
and the misdemeanor is duly noted in his little black book
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