How can you tell a Fell runner

[Multiterrainer]

Not forgetting the empty water bottles, discarded race numbers, and banana skins. But yes, mainly mud and safety pins.

I manage to clear most of that lot out of the car today before dropping it off for it's MOT

[ba-ba]

"At the crack of mid-day the pre-migration rituals begin. Lesser-spotted Fell-Runners (Uptiddleyup downtiddlydownus) spot each other across the car park as they step out of their cars - their plumage (ancient dog-eared t-shirts from many fell races; shorts) and car decoration (OMM/KIMM stickers in the back window, the pungent smell of arse wafting from the open door, bags of muddy kit scattered about all 4 passenger seats and the boot) making them irresistible to their fellow fell runners whilst the general public (Driveslowly visitteashopicus) look askance.
The courting dance between members of the species begins with the removal of clothing at the car boot. What look like tan lines, but are in fact hardy peat marks from last week's excursion, are enviously glanced. Lurid vests and very short shorts are donned, and in some cases Vaseline disappears below the waist-line, never to be seen again. If there's snow on the ground or horizontal rain in the air, a small hat and bin-bag looking jacket may be in evidence.
At an unknown signal from the strongest member of the group the migration begins. Scampering out of the car-park towards the nearest looking lump of inhospitable heater, bog and rock. Their final destination, the pub, lies but 50m away, but it will take 2 hours before mud is scraped off studded shoes with the aid of the pub's bench and flowerpots and the weary fell runners regail each other in tales of just how they came across that T-shirt they have had longer, and love more than, their children. Whilst lunching families supping fosters look on these waif-like specimens will demolish the largest meal on the pub menu, with extra chips, all washed down with several glasses of white-headed brown or straw coloured liquid which effervesces before being supped before heading home to leave their now mud-laden kit in a plastic bag next to the door, ready for next weekend's adventures."

[IanDarkpeak]

I manage to clear most of that lot out of the car today before dropping it off for it's MOT

mine's got compasses, maps, bit's of first aid kit and climbing kit. usually some muddy footware and a vest or two in the boot...........and often lot's of beer!!!

[stevefoster]

"At the crack of mid-day the pre-migration rituals begin. Lesser-spotted Fell-Runners (Uptiddleyup downtiddlydownus) spot each other across the car park as they step out of their cars - their plumage (ancient dog-eared t-shirts from many fell races; shorts) and car decoration (OMM/KIMM stickers in the back window, the pungent smell of arse wafting from the open door, bags of muddy kit scattered about all 4 passenger seats and the boot) making them irresistible to their fellow fell runners whilst the general public (Driveslowly visitteashopicus) look askance.
The courting dance between members of the species begins with the removal of clothing at the car boot. What look like tan lines, but are in fact hardy peat marks from last week's excursion, are enviously glanced. Lurid vests and very short shorts are donned, and in some cases Vaseline disappears below the waist-line, never to be seen again. If there's snow on the ground or horizontal rain in the air, a small hat and bin-bag looking jacket may be in evidence.
At an unknown signal from the strongest member of the group the migration begins. Scampering out of the car-park towards the nearest looking lump of inhospitable heater, bog and rock. Their final destination, the pub, lies but 50m away, but it will take 2 hours before mud is scraped off studded shoes with the aid of the pub's bench and flowerpots and the weary fell runners regail each other in tales of just how they came across that T-shirt they have had longer, and love more than, their children. Whilst lunching families supping fosters look on these waif-like specimens will demolish the largest meal on the pub menu, with extra chips, all washed down with several glasses of white-headed brown or straw coloured liquid which effervesces before being supped before heading home to leave their now mud-laden kit in a plastic bag next to the door, ready for next weekend's adventures."

David Attenborough couldn't have put it better:thumbup:

[Hes]

:thumbup: brilliant!!! (and so true)

"At the crack of mid-day the pre-migration rituals begin. Lesser-spotted Fell-Runners (Uptiddleyup downtiddlydownus) spot each other across the car park as they step out of their cars - their plumage (ancient dog-eared t-shirts from many fell races; shorts) and car decoration (OMM/KIMM stickers in the back window, the pungent smell of arse wafting from the open door, bags of muddy kit scattered about all 4 passenger seats and the boot) making them irresistible to their fellow fell runners whilst the general public (Driveslowly visitteashopicus) look askance.
The courting dance between members of the species begins with the removal of clothing at the car boot. What look like tan lines, but are in fact hardy peat marks from last week's excursion, are enviously glanced. Lurid vests and very short shorts are donned, and in some cases Vaseline disappears below the waist-line, never to be seen again. If there's snow on the ground or horizontal rain in the air, a small hat and bin-bag looking jacket may be in evidence.
At an unknown signal from the strongest member of the group the migration begins. Scampering out of the car-park towards the nearest looking lump of inhospitable heater, bog and rock. Their final destination, the pub, lies but 50m away, but it will take 2 hours before mud is scraped off studded shoes with the aid of the pub's bench and flowerpots and the weary fell runners regail each other in tales of just how they came across that T-shirt they have had longer, and love more than, their children. Whilst lunching families supping fosters look on these waif-like specimens will demolish the largest meal on the pub menu, with extra chips, all washed down with several glasses of white-headed brown or straw coloured liquid which effervesces before being supped before heading home to leave their now mud-laden kit in a plastic bag next to the door, ready for next weekend's adventures."

[Mud]

How can you tell a Fell runner

Strictly speaking, I don't think you can ever tell a fellrunner anything...

[sbrt]

Thought so, must spend a bit more instead of settling for that sheep perfume!

Sheep perfume! Must get some for Mrs sbrt.

Its a Derbyshire thing.

[ukhursty]

Car boot full of gear and half the fells.

Drinks plenty of real ale.

[Al Fowler]

Proudly showing your friends, family and work colleagues the scars on your legs and knees...and not receiving quite the same enthusiasm back.

[cyclops]

when having to run bits on roads you're the one running on the grass verges, and crossing the street to run on them too