Pyro's Yard v2.0

I like winter. I don't mind the cold, as long as I can wrap up against it. I don't mind the wet, as long as I'm warm enough. I especially love those cold, crisp days when your breath steams in the air and the frosty grass crackles under your feet. For a large number of years, I've loved it even more when my breath steamed and the frost crackled as I carried my kayak to the edge of another river, ensconced in thermals, fleece and drysuit, to launch myself into the whirling flow to see what the river and I can cook up between us in the way of fun. But, the last two years I've been preciously short of those days. My confidence went to pot two years ago, after an error of judgement, lazy paddling and poor technique led to a nasty swim. Since then, I've shied off rivers, huddling inside my comfort zone like a sleeping bag. I emerged from it, briefly, for last New Year's Scotland trip, but definitely didn't paddle as much as I could have, or indeed should have

I used to float six inches off the ground, I was too weightless to ever be hurt. And I never knew the truth about untrue until I saw you in his shirt. It's always small things that break you open, they're the only things sharp enough The soft goodbye brush of your hand upon my face, your world exploding touch" (Fat Lady Sings - World Exploding Touch) Why chase the past? It hurts too much when you do. Looking up the people you cared about so long ago, finding they've all moved on. But you've moved on too, so why does it still give you that weird, melancholy, "jesus, if things had been different..." feeling. And the stupid part is that you know it's going to hurt, so why do it?! Why does that loose thread of past, that "I wonder what happened to so-and-so...", that "maybe she's still around..." pick at the back of your mind from time-to-time, to the point where you just have to go looking. It's all to easy to look these days,

...New tricks? A couple of interesting bits going on this week. One, I turned 29. Not astounding in itself, birthdays happen every year, but anyway. This year marks my 20th year of kayaking, believe it or not. Definitely an Old Dog, then, in paddling terms. So for some new tricks! Monday night at the LUUCC session, Jon Fuller (King of the Wave) was teaching me - or trying to, anyway - to cartwheel. A lifetime of big boats with no pronounced edges has made me quite lazy with my edge control and 'body english' when I'm boating, so the idea is that some playboating, as much as I profess to hate it, will work on that propriaception and skill set, and hopefully improve my paddling. I realise some time ago that I've got some bad habits that get me into trouble every now and again, so I'm looking at this year as a chance to work on them. And hey, if all else fails, at least I'll provide some amusement for everyone else as I gurn around and fall over a lot. Cheers! Pyro