TEAM DICK

Not being the butchest of people you can imagine my delight when confronted with the joyful task of taking a group of students on an adventure day. So what will we be doing? I asked with trepidation

Orienteering? Fair enough a bit of map reading I can handle that. Cycling? Well I cycle to work every day so not a problem. Climbing? Frightened of heights and absolutely no upper body strength. Raft Building ? In bloody October you’ve got to be kidding me.
The day arrives and it’s pissing down with rain and at least fifty below zero; well in my head anyway. The students are split into teams and I give them the task of giving us a snazzy team name. TEAM DICK was the result. The ensuing jokes about being head of the team and “one might call you Dick Head” were hilarious and I smiled enigmatically and took it all in my stride.

The activities came in the order I’ve listed and as the morning went on and we headed towards my own death by fright I began to wish I was somewhere warm. I really thought a career teaching Performing arts was about as far away from butch as you could get. I thought I would spend my day flouncing around calling people darling and lovey and I would have been bored within ten minutes.

The students we took were BTEC First; the kids who hadn’t done so well in GCSE’s because in the majority of cases they’d been ignored and considered trouble makers. In my opinion the best students there are. You give them some attention and praise then watch them achieve and blossom before your eyes.

I almost managed to reach the top of the climbing wall and the support and cheering was heart warming. They looked out for each other and they looked out for me. I could ask for nothing more.

By this point though we were bottom of the leader board and the task I dreaded most loomed ahead. Raft building. We lost three of our team to fright so it left five of us to build the thing and paddle it to the island. We knew at this point there was no chance of catching the other teams up point-wise. Did we give in? Hell no we rushed in and built our raft before everyone although to be honest it was more than a little rickety. We waited for the guide to check it was sea worthy but he didn’t he just told us to go. Confused I was sure he wasn’t going to let us risk life and limb without the thing being checked over by health and safety and pat tested but no. So we carried it into the lake sailed it to the island and it was only on our way back that the other teams got into the water. By the time we got halfway back our raft began to come apart. There was only one thing for it. We jumped into the icy depths and towed the bloody thing back to shore were it promptly dissolved. It had done its job and we were back on dry land.
We kicked arse in the way that only those with nothing to lose can do.

I’m knackered and sore now two days later but it was the best day and I got to wear my second wetsuit of the year (the first occasion being pictured above). I’m hoping it’s the last time I wear one this year.