January and February have been frustrating months derp-wise, with every possible lead proving to be sealed tight or a dead end.
I was determined to have at least some success before February was out, and after being given strict instructions to leave the house one night by Mrs K, I decided a blast up the M1 was in order to cross the big blue beast that is the Middlebrough Transporter Bridge off my list. jazzywheelz had already expressed an interest in climbing it, and with only two days notice he was able to pull some strings and join me for the trip.
I did consider cancelling, right up until the last minute, as the Manflu was really kicking my arse, but these things tend to be now or never in my experience; I'd already been stood at the foot of the bridge once, around 18 months previous and hadn't pulled it off; I didn't want to let the opportunity pass by again.
Doing my best not cough up rancid brown mucus all over everything, and with jazz no doubt holding his breath for most of the journey, I floored it up the motorway in the direction of Teesside, expecting to hit the snow that had been threatening at any moment. Wondering whether or not she would be lit up tonight we caught a glimpse of blue metal shining brightly over the distant buildings. As it turned out, the lights actually made it a bitch to expose our shots properly up there... And by the time we'd climbed back down, the lights had been switched off so we managed to not get any shots of it lit up from the ground...
Access was relatively easy, and more or less how I'd envisaged it would be. The same can't be said for getting back off the thing; if you're not massively comfortable with heights, like me, then it's an absolute shitter.
Props to Gone for insight.
Ta.
