Nicky & Cookie

Rounding the corner, without warning we pop out of the forest, and onto a grassy flat on which a pretty hut sat surrounded by fox gloves. “Yes! That climb is OVER!” I thought to myself. But the relief was short lived… Looming high up all around were the craggy, scarred, knife sharpened peaks of the Richmond Range. A small but tight knot of anxiety began to crunch in my belly… I don’t like heights… Oh crap…