Odds.

So I haven't written in ages and this has always been a good place to process thoughts. Going in for a hip operation tomorrow. 80% chance it will fix everything and I'll no longer be in pain.

I suppose the 80% chance has created some great experiences for me. If success is guaranteed then what's the point? Most who've climbed with me will know that success is never guaranteed, most of the time I won't even get on what I want to try! I've always got a load of excuses!

Benwee Head from the bottom. Chances of success!?

But I always enjoy being out with friends and this past year has meant a lot of that. Easy routes that I've just enjoyed.

Up the Cromlech after work with the Boss! Photo: Paul Casey

Group ascent of Spiral Stairs. Photo: Paul Casey.

For once I wish the chance of success was 100%. 

Merica.

So there was half a days skiing which involved much hilarity as I repeatedly fell over. A day rock climbing and whiskey drinking where I climbed half a route as I didn't want to ruin my arms for when it got cold again.

Successfully not dying! Photo: Anne Skidmore.

Impatience got the better of us and Bayard, Elliot and myself headed over to Cathedral one morning. We weren't in a rush it was warm and not much was going to be in. We headed to the shade and Bayard racked up and headed off up a route. As he squirmed up a chimney and established himself on a ledge there was a loud crack above. Ice that had been hidden from view came crashing down the wall. Elliot ran left and dived under a boulder. I sprinted the other way as fast as I could in crampons and dived into the show. If I was going to die I didn't want to see it happen. Bayard looked down to see me lying in the snow. 'Well fuck we've killed the Irishman. That didn't last long!' I picked myself up and there was nervous laughter all round. Bayard abseiled off and we went for a walk up Mount Washington.

Chomulagunga - The Great Mountain (Mt. Washington) summit. Photo: Bayard Russell.

It was really strange being surrounded by trees that got progressively smaller and then disappeared. Coming down the Lobster Claw into the ravine involved a lot of bushwhacking. There really wasn't much snow and the ground was soft underfoot. I just assumed that's the way things were until Bayard turned around and said he didn't realise there was trees in the gully! Just an indication of how little snow there's been this year and how much it thawed.

Above the treeline on Washington. Photo: Bayard Russell.

I'm pretty sure there was a rest day somewhere then myself and Bayard climbed Goofers on Cathedral. I got lots of useful advice on ice climbing and hopefully will become a much better punter as a result. What happened next is a bit of a blur but I'm pretty sure they don't know what a spirit measure is in New Hampshire. 'Live free or Die' and all that. A brief trip to the bar that doesn't measure spirits was followed by some Fin Du Monde a 9.5% Canadian beer and then a house party. Apparently I was worried about offending people but wasted no time in telling them they were all 'fucking mental!' Luckily this went down well.

The next day was a rest day...

I climbed with Anne that weekend at Frankstien and Trollville. Accumulating some more experience and arriving early to dodge the weekend crowds.

Getting steeper on Standard Right. Photo: Anne Skidmore.

I also managed to take in Sunday night football at Mark Ritchie's. I think I almost get the rules.

Me and Anne at the top of Standard Right.

Another trip to Frankstien happened with the Jimmy the wandering Australian and then some mixed climbing with Michael the following day at Toco as it got progressively colder. Trying to figure the moves on an M9 with a load of clothes on and wooden fingers is hard. I was eventually persuaded to wear the down pants while belaying. After a couple of successful laps by Michael we sacked it off and headed back to the car, it was about -15 C.

Embracing down trousers.

My last day involved a trip to Cathedral. It was fucking cold. Hovering around -18 C the sudden freeze had done funky things to the ice. It was explosive, then so hard picks were just bouncing and then hollow. It was scary.

Heading towards the pillar on Repentance. Photo: Bayard Russell.

Bayard dragged me up repentance. Its a stunning line and one of the classic North American routes. The climbing was made harder by hard ice and it being my fifth day on I really struggled. Trying to be delicate with the fractured pillar all got a bit too much and I slumped onto the ropes from having a heel hook on the pillar, locked off on my left arm and my right pick just bouncing off. This was followed by the crack/ chimney that you can only get one leg into the ice on. At the belay 60m up I got to rest in the -18 C temperatures. I've never felt cold like it. It just sucks the heat out of you the second you stop moving. One thing's for sure; those New Hampshire climbers are hard! Luckily the last pitch was short and soon I was fist jamming my way around the capstone on the route. Totally wild! A short walk from the top had us on the way to get some well earned chilli and beer.

Sometimes it all gets a bit too much! Photo: Anne Skidmore.

The following morning I was up at half six to pack and make the trip back across the Atlantic to a rainy Wales. It was amazing trip. I couldn't have done it without the wonderful hospitality of Anne and Bayard. The local climbing community is fantastic, the people are wonderful and I'll defiantly be back. Hopefully it snows a bit more and gets a bit colder down here otherwise I might have to do a few weekends in Scotland!

A House in the Woods.

I've finally got a stamp on my passport visa pages. Approved to travel to the US. Happy days. Hours later I wander around arrivals. My phone doesn't work over here, I should've checked that. I can't see Damon anywhere, luckily he appears and we're on the way up north.

Currently I'm sitting in front of a log fire with two dogs at my feet. Bayard and Anne's house is an old hunting cabin still in the process of being converted. Its nestled in the forest. The rain drums softly on the roof. There's something relaxing about it. Its not meant to be like this, it should be cold. Currently I don't care. Its nice to be somewhere different. Beads of water are dripping off the tree branches. There's a lot of trees. I think I'm still dealing with jet lag. I'm not sure but I'd been up for twenty hours before I slept for six and got out on the ice.

The classic New Hampshire Shot at the end of day 1. I'm quite tired. Photo: Damon Clark.

Five minutes from the car and I'm swinging into a classic ice pitch. The Smear. Not really a smear and longer and steeper than it looks! I make the belay at the top with rope stretch. 'Wow I got a little pumped there.'

The Smear. A full 60m with a good steep section. Photo: Damon Clark.

Chia went next. Straight forward and enjoyable. I traversed left at the top looking to do a steeper finish but my arms were having none of it. I traversed back. I defiantly noticed the jet lag kick in. I was having to think about everything a lot more. It took me a while to set up a belay off the trees! I had to triple check everything. I was tired and that was it for the day.

Chia. Looks short but a full 50m of pleasant climbing. Photo: Damon Clark.

So as the rain continues to tip down its nice to be somewhere different and just chill out. Here's hoping for some colder weather in the next few days.

Scale.

The longer I spend here the more I find my preconceptions are changing. Scale is an interesting thing. I spent four years basically studying it and in the end I was more confused than when I began. Scale applies everywhere and I suppose in terms of climbing if you look on a small scale you can end up limiting yourself. I think I still have some slight uni-club/ Irish climbing preconceptions. A friend once told me I'd never climb harder than E1. The same friend also told me it'd be a long time before I'd climb Lightning Crack in Lough Dan while I was standing at the bottom looking up the route. I agreed and walked away that day but came back a couple of months later and on-sighted it. It was a small mental victory and my ideas of what I might be able to do slowly changed. A lot of the time in the Irish climbing community there's a reluctance to go somewhere in case it rains. The farthest high quality crags Fairhead and The Burren are maybe four hours from Dublin and most people won't make a trip if the weather's iffy because its considered a long way to go. I remember when growing up it was considered a long way to go to Dublin from home. It was only an hour and a half! Suddenly things in Ireland seemed close as we were going on seven hours driving to get to Aviemore for a few days climbing last week! Over here I wonder sometimes how I didn't manage to do more back in Ireland.

Hitting some snow somewhere inside the Scottish border after 7 hours.

I'd been annoying Greg and Will all week asking for conditions updates. Knowing what the weather had been doing it was a hard decision to make to head up. Its a long way to go to sit in a house in Aviemore. Luckily with Greg in Dundee and Will based in Aviemore for a few months the decision was a bit easier. After four hours sleep in the car myself and Will Hardy were walking into Sneachda with Belhaven in mind as Will Sim had done it the day previous and reckoned it was in good enough condition.

We got slightly cluster fucked. Probably for several reasons. Cold, lack of sleep and lack of experience. Also the amazing weather in Wales last year allowed me to forget the suffering involved! It was the hardest route either of us had tried. I went for a standard easy winter route amount of extenders and took ten not thinking that there could be lots of gear if needed up the top corner. After I handed the lead over to Will he got stopped fairly quickly unwilling to commit to a short slightly technical wall. We switched again and I took back over. I committed to the hooks, got my feet on and stepped up. With my arm locked off I dredged an axe through the snow at the top of the short wall. Nothing was catching so  I swung it at a corner. It stuck in something hidden by the snow. I committed and pulled myself up using my knees. There was a bit of groveling! I continued to the base of the main corner and stuck in a belay. Again I gave the lead over to Will. About fifteen meters up he realised that he didn't have enough extenders to continue. There was a convenient thread so we abbed. I was too tired and cold to be messing around so the decision was made pretty quickly.

Lots of food and sleep later we were walking into Sneachda again. I got dizzy and my eyes couldn't focus. I went back down.

I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to get much out of the few days so when Will Sim suggested dragging us up Magic Crack I didn't mind the idea. My confidence in myself has defiantly been improved before by being dragged up harder routes by Will and I was also interested to see what is required to climb Scottish VII, 7.

The next day dawned on the walk in. The wind blew, the snow fell and the route was out of condition. We decided to look at The Message on Mess of Pottage. Will headed up the first pitch to put us at the bottom of the groove.

Will Sim heading up the first pitch of The Message.

Looking up from the belay I knew I wanted the next pitch. Nice looking climbing up a groove. It was deceptively accommodating looking but I knew there must be a well protected sting in the tail. I geared up and started climbing.

Bridged in the groove I looked at the gear cluster at my waist. There was a peg out high on the left. The footholds and hooks on the right wall disappeared. The torque and hook on the left wall were amazing but it overhung. I could see the footholds out left. Fairly big and friendly, calling like a siren song. But it was steep, slightly overhanging. I didn't want to go out there. I glanced at the guys and thought they must be cursing me at this stage. Spin drift was pouring down and the wind was blowing the falling snow up the crag. Four meters from glory. Practically a tech 6 boulder problem. "Don't make me go out there," I thought, "please! NO!"  The demons were laughing. I stuck a tentative foot out high and left. The other foot followed and I was committed. Trusting the left hook I removed the right axe from the bomber torque. That was the worst bit. I continued pulling. Onto the easy ground. Relief. I drank in the air like a free diver breaking the surface. I don't understand why I always forget to breathe! I felt ill. I brought the guys up and Will Hardy finished up a nice pitch of climbing to the top.

Will Hardy about to go left!

So scale. Success on few meters of tech 6. Insignificant in terms of climbing but the psychological boundaries have moved a bit again. Not too long until the States now, apparently the conditions are looking good for this time of year.

Projects and Trips.

Its always good to have a project or a trip. Something to aim for makes the boredom of training worth it. Its always better if its a big trip, its easy to train harder and if you have fun along the way with good friends all the better!

To explain better I've booked flights to Boston in Janurary. I'm going here!

Cathedral Ledge, New Hampshire.

So motivation wise I'm doing pretty well. I've a big trip planned, all be it for two weeks. The flights are booked so I'm committed. Its in the States so its far enough away that I really want to make the most of it.

I'll be staying with Bayard who I met on the BMC meet nearly two years ago now in Scotland. I defiantly didn't think at the time that it who have such an impact on my life in terms of the climbing opportunities that have appeared and the people I met then that I keep running into.

Bayard on Daddy Long Legs, Northern Corries.

On the training side of things I've been to the wall a few times (boring) and I've been drytooling a bit. The quarries is as ever not very exciting but I've also been to White Goods twice this season.

The first session went well, warmed up on the wall on the right and got fairly high on Jaz first go with lots of beta from Si Frost and Dave Almond. I'm not sure I was really taking in all the detail Dave was giving me hanging on pumped stupid trying to lock off on a flat edge!

This weekend saw my second session at White Goods for the annual (this is the second time it has been on) White Goods meet organised by Dave Garry. A good crowd was there and the highlight of my day was an onsight of a deceptively steep M6+ on the right hand end of the cave. Defiantly a great route for getting used to torquing!

Si Frost going for axe retrieval.

With a few faces from the BMC meet I hadn't seen in two years and the meet based out of a pub Saturday night went sideways fairly quickly. I managed to fall off my warm up on Sunday two clips up and nearly fell again clipping the chains. Instead I managed to strain my shoulder and hang on, pull up and clip to finish.I was defiantly trying to climb it like in the quarries instead of using the sometimes delicate technique required. Oh and I was very hungover. I can confirm that alcohol defiantly affects performance! I only scared the crap out of poor Megan in the process. Still no one got hurt!

And failing!

I decided to feel ill for a while and watched Ramon establish Careful Torque a new M11 traverse of the lip of the main cave. It was really impressive to watch and defiantly has me psyched to train harder. It was a great event and I'm defiantly psyched to try a few of the harder lines. It was also great to meet some new people and catch up with some old friends.

Ramon on Careless Torque.

I've been sticking in a few runs recently and tonight myself, John, Sophie and Ruth headed up the Pyg track and down the Miner's path. It was moonlit on the way back and I managed to run without a torch! It is also getting very cold. I had been tricked into thinking that we were going for a short jaunt around the lake. Needless to say I was woefully under dressed and under equipped for a run in the hills up to 800m. An hour and a half and one mild case of hypothermia later I can confirm that its getting cold and trying to snow up high!! Winter is coming and I'm getting excited!

Routes, Lakes and Cats!

The guides have gone. That's the the biggest change in the last few weeks. Really short evenings and a house to myself. Its all good though! Just had a great few days in the lakes with Sarah and have done some great routes in the last few weeks. Biggest news is that I ran for a good few hours and my hip though uncomfortable doesn't shoot with pain when I go up hill.

The best route of the last few weeks has defiantly been The Strand on upper tier Gogarth. Its a stunning line and defiantly one which jumped out at me from the guidebook pages. Another E2 5b classic test piece and long, a full 42m. It was a massive  mental effort for me to get on it. I hate blowing an onsight, especially on a classic. I don't know why but getting to the top of a route when you've climbed it bottom to top with no knowledge of the moves or gear feels so much better. The Strand isn't particularly hard to figure out gear wise, you can throw two racks at it and something will go in nearly every metre. I just worried wether my arms would last to the top.

On a damp Thursday afternoon Will and myself arrived at the bottom of the crack line. It didn't look too bad but was wet so we headed down to Imitator so Will could practice a traverse rescue for his assessment and the sun could come around and dry the route. Down at the ledge below Emulator and Imitator I looked back in the direction of The Strand. The shortening that a wall takes on when you stand at the bottom was gone, the pitch looked massive. Long and sustained. The doubts crept in. Some messing around later we were back at the bottom of The Strand. "It still looks wet," I convinced myself. Will knew I had psyced myself out so we went round and he cruised up a damp Run Fast, Run Free. I didn't even bother to second and abed off after Will from the top of the 4b pitch. We went home.

The following day I was back with Tom Grant who has just started on the guide scheme and again I was standing at the bottom of the Strand. It hadn't rained overnight and we'd just done Emulator. I didn't really have a valid excuse not to just try. So I racked up. I tied in and for the first time in months it felt like I climbed. I kept thinking of stopping. Just lowering off. I was just waiting for my arms to fail. I had to remind myself to breathe once or twice but I seemed to keep making upward progress. The climbing was great and arriving at the top felt amazing. I can still see the ropes running back down the crack through a string of gear to Tom below and the land falling away to the sea. The thought makes me smile.

The following week I rang Joe to see if he wanted to have a cup of tea. "Why are you ringing me?" was the response I got, "The weather's good. Ring Davey and see if he want's to go climbing!" So I did and he did and we ended up in Tremadog. The top pitch of Meshach was the highlight of the day. I retreated from the peg to pace a half sized wallnut and an RP 5 before continuing after Davey had a conversation with someone saying how the peg was sawed off and still stuck out loads!

I'm just back from a great few days running in the Lakes with Sarah. We arrived up in Ambleside to hear that ultrarunning legend Scott Jurek would be in The Climbers Shop at five the following day. I remembered reading about him in Born to Run. The bit that always stuck with me from the book was the way he collapsed at the Badwater Ultra lay and the side of the road for a while and then got up and smashed the course record. We decided to be back down to see him! I was a bit concerned that my hip may not last the long run we planned from Harter Fell around the hills to Crinkle Crags in the cafe but I was willing to find out.

The route from below Scafell, just follow the hills right!

We parked at the bottom of Harter Fell and ran over the top into Hardknot Pass to pick up the long trail up Scafell. Three hours in it was getting dark, we were soaked so we decided to pitch up for the night. The usual mess of trying to get a tent up in the rain and keeping it dry followed. We managed to keep everything relatively dry until I spilt half a pot of water on the tent floor. Typical! Dry clothes on, we had some dinner and lay down to sleep.

I struggled to nod off with the hammering rain and howling wind harassing the tent but it eventually came as it always does. At some point in the night I woke up and I could feel Sarah shivering beside me. She had only brought a plastic bivy bag as a ground mat having decided to go really lightweight! "Sarah, are you cold?" I grunted. "No, I'm ok," was the response I got. "Then why are you shivering?" We ended up sharing a Klymit X-Frame mat. They're small. Really I think it was a well thought out tactic to have a bit of a cuddle. She only had to ask!!

A warm, well rested and relatively dry Sarah

We both woke up a few hours later warm and with no rain falling. A bite of malt loaf and some cheese and we packed up and started running up Scafell. The weather closed in and visibility was poor by the time we got to the top. It had started raining again so it was heads down and concentrate on the nav. The rocks were slippy which made some of the going really slow across the tops. Oh and whats with all the cairns?! The bloody things are every ten meters and they go in circles! We made good time up Scafell Pike, across to Esk Pike, Bowfell and onto Crinkle Crags where we slowed up with the nav a bit. I was not entirely sure of my compass and Sarah's was stuck in one position. Going off the map alone we came down the 'bad step' but failed to find the junction bridleway leading back to the road. It looked like the trail we were on would put us a few kilometres further up the road than we wanted and not being able to take a bearing or see more than five metres we continued. A clearing allowed us to make out Great Knott so we kept to paths going right and eventually with a bit of relief arrived back at the road.

Slogging up Scafell Pike.

A few kilometers later we were on the way to Ambleside and managed to arrive just before five to grab a shower in The Climbers Shop and have a cup of coffee before meeting Scott. He's a super nice guy and I now have a signed poster to go up on the wall! Paul invited us up for dinner with Cathy and himself. It was easy to say yes after ten hours running in two days and the venison stew was gratefully received. The best bit about staying in Paul's is the expedition thermarests! A bed was offered but there wasn't a chance I was turning down the option of the thermarest! You'd need a sherpa to carry one if you ever used one on expedition but it'd be worth it! They're amazing. Defiantly something to try before you die. Needless to say I slept soundly.

I'd been in touch with Will as he was now back home in St. Bees. I really wanted to visit the area as I've been hearing how its the best crag in the world all summer. So with a quick call to Will we headed there stopping on the way to run Sharp Edge on Blencathra. It was a fantastic run over some exposed terrain with lot's of people about enjoying the sunny Saturday. I got a few shocked looks which happens when you tear by people with big packs on a narrow ridge. The best comment came from a bloke who exclaimed, "He's not even got a packed lunch!" Run done we continued on to St. Bees and were taken in by Will parents who generously fed us and gave us a place to sleep after a few pints in the pub. I'll not describe the cat sexing incident, just include the comment, "I think I can feel and empty ball sack?" Don't let vet students get drunk!

Sharp Edge.

Sunday was wet so we scrambled down to look at some wet boulders. The tide was in so we couldn't have a tour from the bottom. We walked along the top for a bit with Will pointing out various bits. I want to do a route on the south wall on the head and a bit of exploring would be awesome too! I'll defiantly be back.

I want to climb on this cliff!

A wet Monday had me back in Llanberis so I went and biked back down from the half way house on Snowdon with Llyr. SPD's defiantly make stuff more fun! Still not content I went for a run over the Moel Eilio ridge with John just to make sure my legs were well and truly knackered! It feels great to be running again and I feel like I'm running surprisingly well considering the amount of time off I've had. Maybe I wasn't trying before? Time to apply some of the psyche to training and get on the woodie.

Rain Stops Play.

Intense burning. Where is the point of failure? Suddenly I'm in space. I hope that cam holds. It does. Another failure on a classic crack line. Oh well, I can't save them all forever. I hung there wondering what went wrong but the cramp in my forearms soon distracted me. I had my answer, still not fit. Bit ridiculous really trying something that hard for myself when my hip had just started playing ball again and I was just getting out consistently. Dunno what I expected but I can always hope. 

About to fail on Ferdinand. Photo: John Burrow.

A few days later my arms feel the same pain. I'm undercutting my way across the roof traverse on Zangorilla, following Will. Its wild, I'm pumped and scared and I'm only following! I shouldn't have agreed to belay. It would have been much easier to follow an easy route in trainers. Once the rope was directly above my head, I sat on it pumped.

The last few weeks have continued in the same general trend. Sneaking in routes after work and climbing on days off. I've been to the Orme a bit. I climbed for the first time on LPT and really enjoyed it. I also got reacquainted with a project from back in March (ish). I managed to get up it in sections so I wasn't doing as badly as I thought.

I climbed Main Wall a few weeks ago. It has to rate as one of the best easy routes I've ever done! For some unknown reason I decided to wear my old B2 mountaineering boots. It made some of the leading interesting, particularly the top slab pitch!

Main Wall in big boots! Photo: Will Hardy.

Some evenings have been spent bouldering, remembering problems that felt easy in March when I was fitter. As my confidence in my hip increased in the last few weeks so has the rate of activity. I went for an amazing morning run with Will, Helena and Sarah the other week. This was followed by a trip to Tremadog with Davey Jones, one of Joe Brown's old climbing partners. The guy is a legend. Amazingly experienced and pretty much a walking guidebook. One of the parts of climbing I love is the history, the old stories and characters and I'm lucky to have access to so much of that. We shared some stories and did Grim Wall and The Plum. Both really good routes. The Plum is so contrasting! 

Descending for the first time in ages. (Felt great). Photo: Sarah Ridgway.

I've been exploring on the bike a bit. Its not been very successful in terms of my riding but its been great to get out. I'm having great fun on the route I first took down through the forest with Gareth and Alex all those months ago. Some of the sections I fell off feel quite easy now. I'm well psyched. On a side note, if you ever want colour scheme tips for a mountain bike just ask google. I've currently got a red and white bike with purple bars, green grips and a blue stem. Apparently it all goes! Just check yahoo answers!

Exploring.

Recent weeks have just been more hectic. There's been many parties. Owen left for a bit, I'll miss him. The pace of life seems to leave little time for rest and its great. Most recently I feel in love with sea cliffs again. I forgot what its like to feel that committed to a situation. A recent trip to North Stack wall reignited feelings I had on that cliff in Mayo with Hugh. Its what climbing for me is all about and I didn't even lead a pitch!

A quick call to Davey last Thursday had him ruled out for the day. He thought the weather looked too bad. I agreed but I just couldn't say no to a fidgety Will so we drove to Gogarth to 'have a look'. We got lost looking for Breakwater quarry and it felt like we were wasting precious time. The weather was holding as we arrived at the top of North Stack wall. With my lack of faith in the weather I hadn't thought to bring the ab rope so we went in on the half ropes and pulled them. The only way out was up. Will lead Blue Peter to warm up. I followed quite easily with the safety of a rope above.

Will Sim having a look on The Cad.

The tide was coming in and the weather was closing in as we abbed in again. We pulled the ropes, scrambled out to the boulders and Will committed to the line of The Cad. With a massive run out Will was static on the crux. I reflaked the ropes for the second time to move them from the encroaching water. My boulder was getting smaller. Time was running out. I spent minutes agonising over whether to say something or not. I was glad I wasn't up there but I wasn't overly psyched about my prospects of staying dry where I was. I noticed Will make a foot and kept my mouth shut. A shout cut through the jumbled 'what if' scenarios running through my head. 'What?' I shouted back. 'Take a picture!' carried down through the increasing wind. 'Hurry the fuck up!' was my reply, I knew he was safe now. 

I started belaying in the middle of the picture, it was dry then!

The ropes came tight and a wave broke over my feet. I jumped onto a boulder and traversed to the base of the route. Water was now periodically sweeping over up to my calves. I got hauled up the route by Will. Just after the crux it started pissing down. We were both grinning at the top. It was totally wild and sometimes you just get away with it. We packed up the gear and headed home. I checked my phone in the van. I had a text off Davey, 'We should have gone out.' 

Happy getting away with it!

The terrible forecast for Sunday allowed me to go surfing for the second time ever with Ruth and Sophie. 6 - 8ft powerful waves, strong wind and stormy seas made it interesting when paired with my complete lack of surfing and swimming ability. There's something quite lonely floating there, tired, cold, trying to paddle, fighting an impossible mass of water trying to make progress. I was scared but more so I felt small and completely at the mercy of something huge. Its really hard to describe the sensation of being level with the sea and then suddenly with a swell of water being 6ft up looking down. I achieved my goal for the day of not drowning. I felt I needed to start with a small target and standing up can come at a later time so long as I'm still alive to do it. 

Ruth, Sophie and myself. Happy getting away with is again!

Rain has set in properly for the first time in weeks allowing me to write this. Hopefully I won't have too much time for writing in the coming weeks.