Originally Posted by Mannitola
(Such gracious percentage raises are but one benefit of volunteer work.) Now, let’s see what Phil and the gang are up to this time. . . .
Last week, the teams arrived in Calcutta, India, which marked the end of the ninth leg of the race. This week, they travel 7,000 miles to the city of Auckland in beautiful New Zealand—the home of the Maori, the kiwi, and the Hobbit.
This is a fun one—you can’t see a Zorb and not smile. I’m serious. Once they have zorbed themselves across the finish line, they sprint up a hill and give the awaiting Phil a big ol’ hug. And off we go!
To pass the time, Christie reveals that she and Colin have grown in their relationship since the start of the race. This is great, but I know I’m not the only one who’s frightened to imagine what it must have been like before.
What happens next is . . . positively . . . shocking. Don’t read on if you have a cardiac disorder. Colin turns around, looks right into Christie’s eyes, and says. . . . “I’m sorry. I was wrong.” That’s right, everyone. Once you peel yourselves up from the floor, mark down this date on your calendar, and fondly remember it. (because it will likely never happen too frequently again :lol)
So, he pumps up the Zorb and rolls down the slope and across the Shire-like countryside. “Will you look at that, Master Frodo!” Colin slides out of the Zorb, much like I entered the world eighteen and a half years ago, and they race up to the mat to meet Phil and his accompanying Maori greeter.
They could have made even more changes that they didn’t show on television. The editing, you know. Isn’t that a clever way for me to deflect blame if I got some of the flight information wrong?
PSYCH! Y’all been zapped!
I am totally putting “Zorb” on my Christmas list this year. (me too!)
I’m sure they’re great people, and great bowlers, too,
They receive some Sage Sledging Advice™.
In order to beat the line, Karli (thank goodness for the name banner!) picks up a phone and tries to get tickets that way.
The Yield is like a spork . . . the idea sounds good on paper, but in reality it’s pretty much worthless.
So, where are we going? To Rivendell, Master Gamgee? Nay, we’re going to Hell’s Gate to dig through the mud. Doesn’t that remind you of that old joke: “Where are we going?” “To hell if we don’t change our ways!” Ha ha ha . . . ?
One of them needs to dye her hair. They run/roll down the Zorb line, and up to meet Phil.
They bear an uncanny resemblance to Stadler & Waldorf from “The Muppet Show.”
Yes, my friends, her enthusiasm wears off quickly.
After hosing each other down, they head off to the Zorb, where Brandon gets the honor of rolling down the hill, even though he says he “hates that kind of stuff.” *GASP* Hate a Zorb? You cold-hearted man.
According to the sledging instructor, it is “Hold on!” According to me, it’s “Don’t try to buy a Zorb, they cost over $7,000!” At least this gives me a good excuse to go to New Zealand.
