Me and Burt is likely the only true free-climbers left in Kent since Wogs pitched off and broke his spine. You notice we always mark the fallen by their chief injury, not the fact they was killed, which Wogs most certainly was, as any sod would be who fell three hundred feet? Soft sand and water, you say?
Bollocks. Iron hard from a height like that.
Why do we keep on? We’re Scots is why. Famous cragsmen. Climbing crags is in our blood, you might say. The cliffs is why we moved down to bloody Dover in the first place.
Some people will do anything for an adrenaline rush!
I like his voice, he certainly tells it like it is.
Love it! Love free climbing, too, at least I used to when I was younger and more limber.
Great voice. They’d be good company in the pub.
Ha! Great take, loved it! 🙂
Climbing was the 2nd thing I thought of when I saw this photo, Randy. Love what you did with it.
I liked the hard-hitting speaker’s voice in this piece. I don’t know if the vernacular was spot on as I’ve never been across the pond, but it felt real enough.
That’s what mountains and cliffs are for! Well done.
Because it’s there! That’s why!