Cold Law in the mist.

Mike and I had another wee trip in mind. Basically a walk to take in a top and then another beach foray.
All the way up to the Cheviots it remained wet. Turning up in to the Harthope valley we also encountered swirling mist. It would be a day for full waterproofs.

A steady plod uphill through the all pervading dampness eventually brought us to Cold Law.

.By the time we returned to the car park the rain had eased.

Thankfully it remained fairly dry for the walk in to Ross Back Sands. There was though, a steady northerly wind blowing down the beach.
My concern, worrier that I am, was the tarp we were going to use. Anyone can bivi with a tarp and be uncomfortable. The secret is being comfortable under one. Realising that Mike and I needed something a tad larger, I started thinking. A project that had not turned out right had left me with a fair amount of ripstop nylon. After a hesitant start, I had got busy. Some snipping and cutting and a large amount of sewing with a sewing machine that was not firing on all cylinders, and I had a nine foot square  tarp. The initial hemming required some thirty six feet of stitching. Much muttering and a few choice swear words saw pegging loops added to the corners and middle of the hems. Not my best bit of work. Elegant it was not, functional, most certainly!
My concern was the set up I had in mind, having never used such a large tarp. Despite a thin, mizzly wetness driving down the beach, a wee bit of faffing and we had the tarp up. Not the best but hey! we had shelter from the wind and weather on all three sides. It needs more work in the shape of another lifter toward the rear. However there was loads of space and with the addition  of a mega plastic sheet  Mike had brought along for the floor, we were snug.

 We spent the rest of the day snoozing, reading, drinking tea and generally chilling out.

Early morning saw a  sea fog drifting in with the waves still crashing on the beach in in great rolling, white capped crescendos. Gradually though, the wind changed to the west and the boisterous waves eventually eased. We both spent some time frollicking in the shallows. Mike got wetter than me!

The storm had washed a mass of baby jellyfish and great swathes of seaweed.

Later in the morning the sun came out and we spent a pleasant  few hours before the clouds rolled back in again. It was odd to see a few elderly gents, hidden in the dunes, every so often, stand up, peer around and disappear again  One chappie, rather long in the tooth, had been sitting not that far from us. Standing, he pulled on a pair of shorts, picked up a wee rucksack and walked up the beach, past us. Then proceeded just the other side of us, to enter the dunes once more. There, he discarded the shorts and carried on up through the dunes. Not long after, Mike took Lucky for a walk. Low and behold the same person was now heading back down the beach, clothed. As he came level with our bivi, he paused, gave a loud 'harrumph' and continued on his way. Odd? Even more peculiar was that ten minutes later he came back up the beach, naked and shortly after headed back down the beach, still nude? Well, I guess it takes all sorts!
It was, all in all, not a bad wee do. Readers be warned, there may be more scribblings along these lines!