Come on, people...FOLD...FOLD...FOLD... The

Come on, people...FOLD...FOLD...FOLD... The Foldmaster cracked his bloody whip. What used to be an innocent hobby has become a torturous journey.

The FOLD ie The Friends of the Lake District chanted and waved their banners as the Foldmaster instructed the FOLD members on how to hike to Lake Windermere without

concern for innocent grasses trampled. The Friends Of the Lake District listened to the Foldmaster. They set out in a semi-circular direction over a mottled hill to the Lake.

It was tragic, that patch of quicksand, couldn't be helped. I told the officers that I had tried to help, but to no avail. Eventually they had to let me go. Perfect.

But then I realized I left my wallet at the scene of the "accident." I waited 'til it was safe to return and found it, stuck in the quicksand. I had to act quickly but methodically

, actually I never understood why it's called quicksand, I mean my wallet was stuck just where I dropped it. In fact I don't remember trapsing through quicksand after the "accident

" however my feet were bare and filthy. My boots were long gone, lost in the murky depths. I used a tree branch to pull the muddy wallet out of the quicksand. My photo id

was unrecognisable and my money was all soggy. I had lost everything to the quicksand. Everything but my trusty companion, Dave. Dave the lion. Dave gently roared an understanding

. I started off towards home but Dave didn't follow. That's when we both realised it. His hind paws were stuck in the quicksand and he was sinking fast. I grabbed Dave by the mane