#billy can

Journal Three.  29th November 2010.  The cold is Scotland in different to many of the notoriously frigid places on earth.  There it is usually a dry cold, in Scotland, and especially on the west coast, the humidity is far greater and this damp cold feels far worse.  

I have spoken to people who were raised in countries with far colder temperatures, yet they acknowledge they have never felt as cold as during a Highland winter.  One man had grown up in Saskatchewan, where the mercury plummets in winter, yet he felt colder at -6°c than he did out there at -30°c (wind chill excepted).  

Gathering fuel was a cold experience, yet crucial to my well-being.  By the time I had collected, carried and processed the oak logs I could no longer feel the tips of my fingers or toes.  It took some time to warm up.

My adventure (or this part of it) was coming to an end.  I had arranged to be picked up from Fort William by my parents, so I could spend Christmas with them up in the north of Scotland.  My extraction day was approaching, four days from the 29th, when they would be coming back from a visit to relatives in England.  

Inside my shelter, with falling snow.

Note the poncho used as a door; this was folded double, then a heavy log placed in the bottom.  I used nails salvaged from some driftwood to hang it and built up the doorway around its position - so that the log sits in a gap amongst rocks, and will not blow around. 

The plastic bag near the door is rubbish that will not burn, which gets carried out.

My dwindling supplies, or some of them, are to the top left.