It May Not Go Right, Doesn’t Mean It’s Gone Wrong

You know those crisp early late summer mornings? Well I don’t because I usually spend that time doing a little thing sane human beings call ‘sleeping’.

Yes, my daily ritual consists of turning my alarm off at seven, waking up some point around mid day, strolling into work at half twelve ready for my nine AM shift, and staring at my bosses face while he shouts important stuff at me and point at clocks. Not sure what he actually says, i’m only ever awake enough to know I need to nod in approval, listening to the actual words is one task too many that early in the morning. Maybe he wants me to do something with the clock. The point is I have a good system. I know what I like and I like what I know.

So imagine my shock when Steve decides that on my day off I’m going to wake up at half six in the morning, yes you read me right, the morning, and go for a climb in Dorset. Needless to say I would stop at nothing short of murder to avoid waking up early, but as we planned this trip fairly late the night before, I failed to follow through with these plans and went to sleep. Looks like Madonna lives to see another day. Boy do I love sleep.

Half six came around and I was a bag of emotions. Excited for a day out, but also trying to figure out a way of being able to sleep another few hours. Hard when you’re at that stage of consciousness where your brain has the processing power of a gibbons ball sack.

After spending a while thinking about lady gibbons I rolled out of bed. Recalling a text from Steve the night before involving the importance of the correct gear, I put some climbing shoes and water proofs in a bag. By this point Steve was outside so it was time to leave. Without eating cereal or brushing my teeth. Thanks Steve. Now I hope I breathe in your face. I’m not sure what you will smell, but I’ll tell you what you wont; coco pops.

Having bravely sacrificed coco pops for the sake of time keeping, we made the long drive to Dorset. almost all of which I spent awake.

We arrived in a car park and got out of the van to experience a cold never felt before. Unless you were on the titanic. Or have lived through a mild winter. Or you’ve been a little bit chilly one morning. Steve immediately got to work being patronizing checking if I had all my kit. Turns out I can’t be mad at that one because I forgot my harness. An important part of sport climbing if you don’t want to die. But honestly, if you only remember to remind someone about their kit when you reach your destination who’s really to blame. Seriously, if you have any ideas who I can blame for this one but me let me know. still trying to wriggle off the old hook.

There is something hilarious in making a mistake that ruins everyone’s day. I got that, ‘I’m disappointed in you but I can’t be mad because it’s my fault for expecting anything from you and because of that this is actually quite funny’ look. Reminds me of being in school. Or work. Or having parents.

With the main objective of the day rendered all but impossible, we decided to walk down to the Jurassic coast to just look at what we would have been climbing. Like one of those nineties tv game show ‘here’s what you could have won’ parades. DSC_0543 DSC_0549 DSC_0551 DSC_0553 DSC_0556 DSC_0557 DSC_0560 DSC_0562 DSC_0573

I can’t really describe the emotions of climbing in this location. But, like, there was all this rock. And, like, you could see all this chalk, where, like, other people had climbed it. I bet they all felt some way about it. Deep commentary on climbing.

Not the type to waste a few hours of driving, we dipped into Poole to a climbing center called The Project. Neither of us had been to this center before which made it cool and interesting. Even more so when we went inside and found walls with none of the bolt holes that climbing holds usually attach to. Instead all of the holds were screwed in. This meant the people who set the routes could put holds anywhere they liked. Which in turn meant all of the routes were pretty impressive. And it had more dynamic moves than you could shake a stick at. If I hadn’t forgotten the stick.

Like any awesome climbing center, these guys had a slack line. Which meant one more thing I could be sub par at. To my surprise, however, I actually did pretty well. The last time I tried slack lining at the start of the year I managed to get up on the line for a whole second. This time I managed two seconds. That’s twice as long! What a long way I’ve come in a year.

Feeling on top of a very small world, we hopped in the van and settled down for the long drive home. Made longer by our pursuit of any game that involved punching each other. The mini game. The yellow car game. The punch buggy game. The your friends sat next to you so you need to punch him game. In these games there are no winners, Just someone with a slightly less dead limb. You shouldn’t really play these games as it can have a real impact on your everyday life. I’m really struggling to type this blog with a dead leg.

A tale of poor planning and the ensuing disasters. But like any day in life, there’s a healthy balance of having fun and learning lessons. It would have been easy to show up, realize our plans for the day were about as much use as Bear Grylls water purifier and let it ruin our day. Instead, we laughed at another cock up and made the most of it. Maybe we handle things well. Maybe we’re a little too used to dealing with cock ups. Maybe we just know better than to take plans seriously. For whatever reason, things going wrong always seem to make the best stories. So remember, Life may not be going right, that doesn’t mean it’s going wrong.

Until the next cock up,

Volaticus.

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