I arrive in gale force winds. No fog today but the sky is white and the icy wind races around my rock. My chisel wrap, comprising 8 hefty tools, blows clean off the stone like a leaf. As I am working the top surface, I arrange several smaller blocks to stand on, giving me the height that is needed. I am repeatedly blown off my perch, and develop a quiet resolve to continue, rather than take refuge in the local pub. Meet a few hardy dog walkers. Make some good progress.