Back to where it all began

I have been spending too much time with The Philosopher. Standing looking out across the peaceful stillness I hear Maxi Jazz in my head. "This is my church. This is where I heal my hurt."

It was a perfect morning. Where better to be just before 7.30am on a Sunday than back where it all began; the beach at Balloch's slipway. Four of the channel bunch, Ken, Mel, Lyall from the support crew plus me. It wasn't nearly as cold as we expected but with the sensible heads on we took an early season route of sticks, beach, witch's hat, yellow buoy, sticks before heading back in. Early season maybe, but we managed a quick chat with the late shift (Stuart, Graeme and Fergus) who had a lazy start to the day and an 8am meet.

Back near the shore the four of us, yes even Mel, removed the neoprene for a few strokes. I ditched the hats too and had a short lived but pretty intense ice cream headache as my reward. Verdict was warmer than we expected, but still colder than we would like. And true to form the shivering started by the time we hit McDs for a rendezvous with Richard and replacing all those calories.