That must have been it. I remember being fine heading up a steep slope and reaching the top and being blown into a convenient patch of nettles. I admire your eight wholeheartedly since I can barely manage three in suburbia on a good day.

Oh cloaks - my friend has a wholly impractical but lovely red one which flopped about like something alive and angry when she went out wearing it and ran into a storm. I've got nothing on scabbards though, I'm afraid.