23:59 was, without exaggeration, the time I ended up shimmying into my bivvy bag on New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t meant to be this way, but a serious case of procrastination, followed by an even more serious, and nearly fatal, case of dithering led to me cutting things very close.
I had originally planned to go out on the second weekend of the month – wanting to go out between Christmas and New Year, but being pragmatic about making time (and summoning the motivation) to do so. This got pushed back a couple of times, eventually settling on the 30th. However, this was the day when for a variety of reasons, my case of extreme dithering and overthinking led to me proclaiming that it wasn’t worth going if it was bothering me this much, which led to a bit of a sulk.
As it was, there was a yellow warning for wind, which did in fact materialise and being a sensible person, would have made me cancel any plans I might have stuck to. That left just one more chance – New Year’s Eve.
So, after a nice refreshing walk on New Year’s Eve morning to try out a set of new poles, I came home and packed, ready to head out if the weather (the wind was still a bit iffy) and my head cooperated.
At about 23:30 I headed out, having ushered out some friends we’d had over to play games. I rode out to what has now become my ‘regular’ spot. Trying to avoid getting sprayed with too much crap I rode pretty slowly, but a glance at my watch made me speed up a little – I’d got too complacent thinking my bivvy spot was so close to home and might end up missing the midnight cut off!
With 5 minutes left, I arrived and unpacked my stuff. With a less than a minute to spare I was in my bivvy, watching the fireworks light up the cloudy sky.
In my haste to get set up my exact spot was far from level but, I’d done it! 12/12 BAMs.