diff --git a/years/2024/logbook.html b/years/2024/logbook.html
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+++ b/years/2024/logbook.html
@@ -764,7 +764,7 @@ Signed:  The people of the plateau.
 <hr />
 
 <div class="tripdate" id="2024-07-20c">2024-07-20</div>
-<div class="trippeople"><u>Marie</u>,Anthony,Wookey,</div>
+<div class="trippeople"><u>Marie</u>,Wookey,Anthony,</div>
 <div class="triptitle">Balcony - Balcony Camp Set up and the Pushing Begins</div>
 I love camping in unusual places and so I was excited, if not a little apprehensive for an underground camp. This would be my first surveying trip and my first trip after becoming quite in ill in Homecoming and so the fear of everything that could go wrong so deep underground for so long was quite high but luckily the thrill of adventure triumphed in the end. I was in good hands with two very experienced expo goers and offered great advice whilst packing for the trip - a special shout out to the raisins and seeds that Anthony packed which made our morning porridge significantly more palatable. I was worried we would be stuck at top camp in the pouring rain but it turns out I never fully understood the meaning of caving faff until I helped pack for an underground camp. We were only just about ready when the rain lessened up around 4pm and so we took advantage of the weather window and scampered across the plateau through a thick mist, hopes high that nothing too important had been forgotten. <p> We were already commenting on the ridiculous amount of gear we had to lug through the entrance series but a couple more parcels of tackle sack joy awaited us on the way since Mongol Rally still hadn't finished being rigged. An epic train of tackle sacks had to be ferried through the crawl at the top of Mongol Rally. I was tasked with scurrying up the muddy slope so that Wookey could hook his foot around the straps. The largest bag only just barely fit through. Anthony and I gave Wookey a head start to rig and rebolt and as I heard his woohoos as he abseiled into the abyss, I tried to absorb his gleeful energy and not think about the fourth tackle bag waiting for me at one of the rebelays. I started off a bit shaky but soon I was on my way, my efficiency improving with each rebelay until one of the hanging ones towards the end when I could not physically unweight my cowstails there was so much weight tugging at my harness. Once again, my despair was lightened by a cry of glee from Wookey as he had just finished rigging the final swing to the pit stop after much swinging about although mainly because I heard the word bag. Sure enough, Wookey once again came to my rescue and soon we were all down, Anthony not having the same problems I did but probably carrying more weight. (to be continued, I'm off to the lake)
 <div class="timeug">T/U: 48.0 hours</div>