By: Blonde Two
Not sure if I have mentioned it but there is a Mr Blonde Two and last night he turned the camping tables on me. He decided to cycle up to Dartmoor and camp out for the night. We have done this together before (not the cycling bit) and had a lovely time watching stars, eating army rations, feeling fat, feeling cold (me), feeling hot (him) and disturbing each other for loo trips in the middle of the night (me again).
I am not usually a great worrier. My boys are outdoor lads and I have always encouraged expeditions rather than staying in. So it came as a surprise last night to find myself fretting. I have no idea why; Mr B2 can cycle, navigate and camp quite proficiently and has had excellent full Blonde training. He even survived a fortnight cycling round Iceland. Nonetheless, I found myself sending texts quite early in the evening and the poor chap had to announce that he was going to sleep at 9.00 to make me stop.
I eventually came to the conclusion that the wilderness experience should probably not have a paranoid wife invading it and left him alone for the night. After all, we all need our adventures, solo or otherwise. Maybe I won’t get so irritated next time he is worried about me coming back late from the moors…