TGOC Food Logistics

We didn't get out for a walk over the weekend just gone. Having spent all day on Saturday at the Backpacker's Club Lightweight Fest we ran out of time to fit a walk in amongst all of the chores and errands we had to complete on Sunday - chores and errands which have been subjected to reduced timescales thanks to Mick needing to fit in a quick trip over to Las Vegas between now and the TGOC to attend his eldest son's wedding.

One of the top priorities for Sunday was to make sure that we are sufficiently organised for the TGOC and the top priority there was to make sure that we have got the food situation sorted.

With two final meals whirring away in the dehydrator, I was happy that we had enough evening meals prepared*, but I was also acutely aware that we will only be passing two shops in our 13 days of walking and that experience has told me that I would rather not carry more than four days worth of food at a time if I can help it.

That meant that we had to be more organised as to food than we have ever needed to be before (more so than at any point on our LEJOG, when the longest we went between shops was 5 days) and that meant that we had to make decisions at this stage as to what breakfasts, lunches, evening meals and snacks we would need for each day before working out what we could buy where and what would need to be bought in advance and sent ahead in a resupply parcel.

Soon I was tearing my hair out over a ridiculously detailed spreadsheet and was getting so concerned that I would miscalculate and end up on top of a mountain with no lunch to eat and no chocolate in reserve that I called for assistance from Mick.

So, then there were two of us poring over the ridiculously detailed spreadsheet, with Mick questioning and me trying to explain my thinking.

I think that we got there in the end. We now have a huge shopping list comprising the breakfasts, lunches, and snacks that we will be taking with us for the first few days and that we will be posting ahead for the last few days, but we are happy that all of the other food we will be able to buy in Tyndrum and Blair Atholl.

Perhaps my memory has simply faded, but I would swear that no part of our four months of backpacking last year was as complicated as planning this two-week jaunt across Scotland!

(*Actually, after we finished poring over the spreadsheet we concluded that we've prepared more meals than we need)

Backpackers Club Lightweight Equipment and Tent Show

Never have I seen so many people wearing Paramo in one place. They called it the Backpackers Club Lightweight Equipment and Tent Show, but to an unknowing bystander it might have been a Paramo Fan Club extravaganza (of which Mick & I fully partook; me in my new Velez Adventure Light, Mick in his trusty Vasco – well it was forecast to rain…).

We left home bright and not-quite-early this morning to make the hour-long journey up to Ashford-in-the-Water with the thought that we would probably not know more than a small handful of the people there and that the kit on show would not take us more than a short while to peruse. Our expectation was that we would be back home again by early afternoon.

Our expectations of the show were completely surpassed.

What I hadn’t expected was the number of people who stopped us to say “Are you Mick and Gayle?”.  It really was very nice indeed not only to meet those people but also to hear the very nice words they said about the Blog – so thank you all for taking the time to talk to us, it really was very much appreciated (such unexpected kind words do make all of this clattering away on the keyboard worthwhile!).

As well as the heretofore-strangers who said hello, there were unexpected meetings with people we had previously met, and so much time was very pleasantly whiled away chatting.

Then there was the gear-fondling – and considering that there were only three retailers (plus Satmap) there, there was a significant amount of gear to appreciate. Outside, on one side of the entrance, there was Backpackinglight.co.uk with Bob & Rose being constantly surrounded by people admiring their wares, and on the other side of the entrance was Satmap (with whom we did stop for a chat late in the day after most people had left, but I’m afraid that despite the salesman’s best efforts the product just doesn’t appeal to me (nowt wrong with the product, just not my cup of tea)).

Inside were two main stalls, and either I was being very unobservant (completely possible) or they weren’t displaying who they were. Upon examination it was evident that one was Alpkit, and I’m pretty sure that the other was Ultralight Outdoor Gear.

Despite having no intention of going there to spend, there were some things that just begged to be bought and my bag did get progressively heavier as the day went on.

The haul wasn’t outrageous. We patronised each of the retailers, and took away the following:

From the bottom left:

From Bob & Rose: A silk shopping bag (this is to supplement my previous one and I can’t speak highly enough of them if you want always to have a bag on you to save having to resort to disposable carriers) and a Nalgene hipflask (for Mick to fill with Brandy for the TGOC).

From Ultralight Outdoor Gear: 2 MSR Ground Hog Stakes (to replace those of our Alpkit Tykes which we have bent); Mick also got very tempted by a Thermarest Neo Air, having finally seen one in the flesh, but with a remarkable show of will, managed to resist.

From Alpkit: A pack of three pairs of socks (they said they were size 3-5; looking at them they looked bigger than that and trying them on at home they do fit me, but would be too big for a smaller foot, so I suspect they were actually size 5-8 (me being a 5)); and three roll-top waterproof stow-bags. The stow-bags look remarkably similar to the many Sea-to-Summit waterproof bags that we proved quite conclusively on our travels last year are not waterproof, however, we’re hoping that not-quite-waterproof bags inside of not-quite-waterproof pack-liners will prove to be waterproof.

With a total expenditure of £35 it didn’t feel like we had been too outrageous.

Our day possibly would have ended with a round of the retailers and much chatting (oh, and with a trip to the tea-room in the village, which served us some excellent food and tea), except that Trentham Walker strongly recommended that we swing by the tent show – and we were mightily glad that we did. Okay, so we don’t need another tent, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t appreciate what’s on offer, and we spent a pleasant hour or so taking the walk up to the campsite and looking around the many and varied tents on offer (including a brief sojourn inside the TN Laser Photon when it started raining again). I can’t think of any other place where you could possibly see such a good range of tents on offer (Lightwave, Vaude, Go-Lite, Terra Nova and …ummm…someone else, I think).

More people were then met and chatted with as we returned to the Village Hall and just as the event was due to finish we finally made our way towards the car for the homeward journey.

If it hadn’t been for following our Sat Nav’s instructions on how to get home (we had ignored it largely on the way up, so thought we would see the route it suggested for the way back) going past the entrance to the campsite where the tent show was being held, we would have gone straight home. However, as we were passing we thought we’d pop back in because we’d barely had chance to say more than two words to Darren and there we things we needed to discuss with him (stoves, quilts, TGOC, that sort of thing).

With another hour or so having passed we did many times say goodbye to people and make vague mentions of leaving before we did finally drag ourselves away. We really should have stayed over!

It was a truly excellent day (far more interesting than The Outdoor Show, and only a tiny fraction of the size), which was well and truly made by all of the nice people to whom we talked during the day. I wouldn’t even think twice of going along again.

On This Day Last Year

We left Launceston (and unfortunately missed meeting Daryl May, who was walking the other way)

A while later we passed the curious spectacle of half a house

As usual, we saw some lovely countryside

Then I got side-tracked by an interesting tree stump

Then after skirting the edge of Dartmoor

we found ourselves at a campsite (on the hardshoulder of the busy A30), only to be met with our nightmare scenario after a long day: it was fully booked up with a caravan rally. Fortunately, the owners were most accommodating and offered us either their lawn or the area in front of the barbeque area. We spent a comfortable night.

The original of the day can be read here.

Unfortunately this year is not anywhere near as interesting as last year – hence my lack of posts lately (cor, that was a long-winded way of saying “I’m not doing anything right now” wasn’t it? But at least it has caused me to post some of the never-before-published LEJOG photos).

Sunburn

What an absolutely glorious day for a walk!

It seemed to be a pretty unanimous opinion, between us and the thirty thousand other people out on the Chase.

It was just over 15 miles today (2000 feet of ascent) with full packs.

Mick did well, considering that it was only an hour or so before we set off that he declared himself over the cold from which he has been suffering. But, he did end the day significantly red in the face. It’s back to the time of year where nothing short of factor 50 will save him, and yet we were out there in the blazing sun with no suncream at all (“When will you think to apply suncream without me telling you to?” I asked; “When I grow up” he replied; “When will that be” I asked?; “A lot of years yet” he confirmed).

Much of the entertainment for today’s walk was provided by Podcast Bob’s recent podcasts (some of which seem to have been around for a while without me noticing). I particularly enjoyed the two-parter with Peewiglet on the subject of the GR20. The new podcasts don’t seem to be shown on The Outdoorsstation yet, but you can find them via the linky thing at Backpackinglight or from itunes.

A New Arrival

There was a knock on the door yesterday afternoon. As Mick went off to answer it, it was to my chant of “Is it my sleeping bag? Is it my sleeping bag? Is it my sleeping bag? Is it my sleeping bag?”

It was.

A few seconds later whatever I was in the middle of doing at the time had been abandoned, the packaging was ripped open and out came the bag to fluff up to its full potential – which turns out to be very fluffed-up indeed.

I challenge anyone with a new sleeping bag not immediately to crawl into it and my first try-out on the living room floor proved that, like my Minim 300 it fits me perfectly.

The weigh-in showed it to be slightly heavier than advertised, but still 550g lighter than the bag that it’s replacing.

Is it wrong to now hope for a freak late cold-spell to give me the chance to use it, rather than just now packing it away until next winter?

-------------------------------------------------

Unrelated to that, in downloading some photos today, I came across some of me modelling my new Paramo Velez Adventure Light last weekend:

If you can overlook the large pile of walking boots behind me, the very tasteful zebra slippers on my feet and the huge whisky bottle next to me, and just concentrate on the jacket, what do you reckon to the length? Looking at that photo, I’m wavering back towards thinking that it’s too short.

A Year Ago

Mick sent me an email at 9.40 this morning, asking where I had been exactly one year ago.

It took me just a second or two to think back before I responded that we were a few miles beyond Marazion, battling the wind and that a few hours later, at the end of our day, we would inadvertently misplace the coast path (how? I still wonder; keeping the sea on your right seems so simple) and find ourselves walking a bit of a detour. We then found that our campsite was up a hill and I may have whinged a little bit.*

It was Day 2 of our LEJOG. Happy days indeed – and my goodness, doesn’t time fly?

Of course LEJOG season is now back in full swing and once again this year there are people sacrificing their evenings to keep up entertained by blogging it as they go.

First off there’s Litehiker Geoff, who set out a week last Sunday. He’s walking solo, using a bivvy and tarp arrangement, is raising money for the Multiple Sclerosis Research and Relief Fund and has already had many good experiences with the kindness of strangers. His blog also looks remarkably similar to how this one looked a year ago – although I note that the Pocketmail has a slightly different annoying footer attached to each sent message this year!

The other current LEJOGgers of whom I am aware sit (to my mind) firmly in the category of ‘nutters’. Now admittedly most people to whom we disclosed our walking plans before we set off did think that we were mad, but in my opinion walking for 12 weeks is a perfectly sane pastime. Running the length of the country though? That’s a special kind of mad! Their daily blog posts are short and sweet, so if you’ve not followed their progress so far it will be quick (and worthwhile, in my opinion) to catch up. It seems that thus far they’re having a bit of an issue with mileages being longer than they should be... They also have a website, where donations can be made to their chosen charities of Marie Curie and Macmillan.

I look forward to continuing to enjoy their respective journeys as they make their way up north.

(*I wrote that description off the top of my head. Having just re-read my blog entry for that day, it seems that I’m either dully predictable with my choice of language or that the day stuck well in my mind!)

On Sunday Last

In the absence of having planned to go anywhere else, Sunday saw us with our good old fall-back of a walk on Cannock Chase, this time with heavy packs and with determination to walk further than we have on any other single day this year.

It was a lovely day for it, with initial cloud cover, but still and warm, so with our brains in neutral (this being our umpteen-hundredth repetition of a familiar route) we set off at quite a lick. A freak incident resulting in a collision between a dog and a small child on a bicycle (both appeared fine, even if they child was wailing loudly - but then he did hit the ground with one heck of a clatter) provided a small diversion for us, and a brief detour over a few lumpy bits took us away from the masses for a short while.

Having more or less kept up with Mick's pace-setting I was more than ready for a break and some sandwiches when we reached a bench at the place that in my mind is called 'the high point' (but I think it's probably identified somewhat differently on a map). Having forgotten to make a flask, my focus from there on was the Visitor Centre, where we could get a cup of tea.

By the time we reached the Visitor Centre I was so warm that my longing for a cup of tea had been transformed into the need for an ice cream, which was consumed amidst consideration of what to do next.

A number of options were contemplated, and a concensus reached that to make sure that we walked a good distance we would simply turn around and walk the same route back to the car, but before we did that, our break was extended as we popped into the Great War Interpretation Centre that opens for just two hours each Sunday afternoon (we've seen it open a few times now and were feeling that it was rude to so repeatedly pass it by).

It dawned on us as we started retracing our steps that despite having walked our circuit on this part of the Chase umpteen-hundred times, we have always walked it in the same direction (and thinking about it I could come up with no reason why that has been the case), so it was something of a departure for us to be appreciating the views in the other direction.

The only modification made to our return route was that we omitted the three lumpy bits added on to our outward journey. I was feeling sufficiently exercised by that point without the extra effort and was focussed more on a Hot Cross Bun Break at the next picnic table we reached. That break was blissfully boots-off (gosh, it was warm!), then feeling slightly refreshed we covered the final distance back to the car.

In all seventeen miles were covered, with a reasonable smattering of ascent. Although the terrain wasn't representative of what we will find in Scotland, having completed the distance with plenty of energy remaining it did make me feel slighly better prepared to be setting off in less than a month for a stroll across Scotland.

I had intentions of fitting another walk in on Monday, but when the day turned out to be fine our attention was diverted instead to attacking some of the weed-fest that is our garden - an activity that left me aching far more than walking 17 miles ever has.

Paramo Ladies' Velez Adventure Light

Continuing my recent trend of kit indulgences, last week I added a Paramo Ladies’ Velez Adventure Light to my collection. This item only hit the shops a couple of weeks ago, and although a new Velez (in black) was at the top of my wish list, I was resisting well the lure of the new lightweight version. My resolve started to crumble when I read a few very positive initial reports on OM, and the nail in the coffin was when I found that The Mountain Factor had them at 20% off and with free P&P. An order was placed on Thursday afternoon, and despite being well after the shop's advertised cut-off time for same-day despatch, an hour or so later I had an email confirming that my shiny new smock was on its way to me.

Postie obliged my eagerness to get the item in my hands by arriving three hours earlier than usual on Saturday morning and my first impression when I took the parcel out of his hands was "Gosh, this is light". My second impression when I liberated the smock from the package was "Gosh, this is light and it feels absolutely lovely."

Then I tried it on. It was lust at first feel as I stood there (still on the front door mat) wearing the jacket and grinning like a fool.

One of the reasons I like my old Velez so much is that it feels just like a jumper, rather than like a coat. The Adventure Light is not only lighter, but is even more comfortable. And the hood! What an improvement on the detachable hood of the standard Velez. The peak is bigger and better and because it zips up, rather than closing with poppers, there won't be the need to stop, go cross-eyed in trying to see the poppers to unite them and curse when the wearing of mittens thwarts the first four attempts to do them up (which usually involves me thinking I fastened one then realising that the mitt is caught inside of it).

Then, fast on the heels of my delight, came disappointment as I noticed the lack of length in the body. Although the jacket is a vastly better fit on my body and arms than the XS unisex of my standard Velez, Paramo seems to have worked on the basis that skinny birds must also be short (but long in the arms). Thus, the hem finishes a couple of inches higher than my old Velez - and that's at least an inch shorter than I would want it to be. My grin wavered.

Then I considered my options (at quite some length; don't underestimate my ability to ponder a point when a not-cheap purchase is involved!). I could: 1. Have a jacket that is shorter than I want it; 2. Go a size up, have a jacket that is too volumous in the arms and body, but which is long enough; or 3. Concede that this jacket just doesn't come in an appropriate size for me.

Option 3 was quickly discounted. My existing Velez doesn't fit me well, being far too big in the body and baggy in the arms, and I still like it enough to want another, so the question quickly became one of "is it better to have a jacket that is too wide or one which is too short".

I’m not sure if there is a definitive answer to that question, but, oh how I pondered. It kept me occupied for a good few miles on the Chase on Sunday. I think that I got to the decision that too short was the best option*. That way I'm not carrying around excess material in the body and won't have flappy arms. Plus, if it's raining enough for me to worry about where the water will be running off my jacket then I'll be wearing waterproof trousers anyway.

Now I find myself in that need-to-test-a-new-waterproof situation of actually wanting a bit of a downpour (just a bit, mind!) next time we're out so that I can test the most important qualities of the jacket.

(*But I am female and thus am at liberty to change my mind on the point, so I haven't cut the tags off quite yet and will probably try both my old and the new Velez on a few more times before I reach a final, irreversible decision).

Edale – Some Photos

I’ll start with a bit of a compare-and-contrast:

March 2009:

April 2009:

More impressively – March 2009:

 

April 2009 (the angle’s different because this time I didn’t have to struggle up a ridiculously steep grass slope to bypass the falls):

And just look at that sky!

Taking the interesting route:

Mick (a very smug Mick) shows off the Stow-on-the-go feature on his shiny new Osprey Exos:

Interesting stone:

 

Mick demonstrates the shelter that can be achieved under an interestingly shaped rock:

Then he gesticulates his thoughts on the shapes of the rocks ahead:

They are good shapes:

   And finally, the Downfall, complete with water (albeit a pretty poor snap of it):

Sunday on Kinder Scout

We woke up to a stunning morning in Edale yesterday. The clear skies had given us a chilly night, with a bit of a ground frost*, but led to a truly superb day for walking.

By 8am we were parked up in the still-empty parking area at Upper Booth and after no small amount of faffing (principally involving Mick making sure he had everything he needed in his shiny new Osprey Exos (along with lots of stuff that he didn’t need but was using as representative weight for this training walk)) off we set down the road.

Anyone who knows the area will appreciate that ‘down the road’ is not the most obvious direction in which to head from that car park, but I decided on my previous trip that the slight backtrack to take a route across fields was much more pleasing than the walk up the road.

The walk itself was to be something of a repetition of what I’d done on the second day of my Edale Adventure a month ago. On that occasion, as I made my way up Crowden Brook, I thought that Mick would have rather enjoyed the route, so this was the return journey to test that theory**.

As we made our way up the side of the brook I could scarcely believe the difference to a month ago. It was difficult to reconcile this happily burbling stream, with pretty rock beds and steps, with the immense raging torrent that I had previously encountered.

Whereas last time I was unable to cross the water where I needed to, this time we skipped from side to side without even getting the soles of our shoes wet (and there was me thinking it would be a good test of my new boots, it being the place where I discovered the leak in the original pair).

Although not as spectacular, the lack of a raging torrent did have its advantages and we were able to take a more interesting route up the stream with a few scrambly bits thrown in at the top.

We met no-one else on our way up to the plateau, but within three minutes of reaching the path along its edge, I had already seen more people than I encountered in the whole of my previous 2-day trip. That’s a warm, sunny, Spring Sunday for you, rather than a shitty-weathered-out-of-season Tuesday!

Around the edge we went and I couldn’t believe the difference there either. The vast sections of peat bog that I had encountered (waded through, in fact) were now dried to such an extent that, with a little care, they could be trodden on without the danger of losing a leg to the knee. It struck me that either I was exceptionally unlucky with the underfoot conditions last time, or exceptionally lucky this time; my feeling tended in the direction of the former.

We skipped along, enjoying the clear views, and taking the time to take photos of things that caught out attention*** whilst basking in the warm sunshine.

By and by we reached the big cairn where the edge path meets the Pennine Way and this time I was determined to make the detour to the Downfall. With many a “How Do” as we passed endless numbers of people, we made our way along, feeling the chill that was still in the air when the sun went in and we lost shelter from the wind. Finally we came upon the Downfall and I heard before I saw that it did have water in it.

Our packs were dumped near the top as we wandered down to get a view and sure enough, even in the reasonably benign conditions the water was doing its party trick of being blown back up.

We tarried a while with snack bars until I was well and truly chilled and until our contemplation of the map had resulted in the conclusion that our only real option in the time available to us was to retrace our steps to the big cairn and then make our way down Jacob’s Ladder.

I had been tempted to try a route across the middle again, because it had struck me, on the evidence available elsewhere, that the nightmare I had there previously was probably during the wettest underfoot conditions of the year and if the dried-outness of the edge path was anything to go by, the middle would be a lot more passable now. However, a route across the middle didn’t make sense in terms of where we had left the car and our ascent route, so we stuck with the safe, but less interesting option.

There were still hoards of people ascending as we made our way down and as we reached the road, I couldn’t believe how busy it had become; with the car park full, there were cars abandoned in all sorts of inconsiderate positions. Still, we freed up a space at an early enough hour that it was probably reused and back home we tootled, to complete all of our chores before the long commutes to work beckoned again this morning.

* Given the time of year and the weather forecast, I really don’t know what I was thinking in selecting Wendy as our accommodation for the night. Actually, I do know – it was the fact that she’s so quick and easy. What I can’t fathom is how I overlooked the fact that she’s really the most unsuitable tent for two people in cold, still conditions. She’s fantastic with one person. She’s fantastic in warm or windy conditions. Cold, still and full occupancy she struggles with. As a result it was a condensation-wet start to the day.

** I wasn’t wrong. He did like the route.

*** I had good intentions of posting some photos in this post. The laptop thwarted those intentions by refusing to play ball (an hour of whirring before I could do anything useful with it – time for a new laptop, do you think?). I’ll likely post a few photos sometime later in the week.

The Plan … The Reality

According to the plan we should be somewhere atop a hill right about now. Where I actually am is sitting on the sofa.

I can trace the root cause of the plan going awry. It was when yesterday morning I decreed that I would rather spend last night in our comfy bed rather than camping and that instead I was prepared to get up early this morning to make our planned outing into a daytrip.

By the time we retired last night our bags were packed and in sitting by the front door, ready for a quick get away this morning.

At 6am the alarm went off. There was a groan as I turned over and hit snooze. Then Mick complained that he hadn’t slept well and was too tired. “Shall we not go?” I mumbled in my sleepy state and turned the alarm off.

We awoke two and a half hours later, which had eaten too much into the day for a daytrip.

All is not lost. I am determined that we will be out walking tomorrow. To make sure of that, we’re back to the camping plan. We will set off within the next couple of hours and Wendy is coming with us. As an added bonus, we have time on our journey this afternoon to swing by a gear shop or two. Mick has his eye on an Osprey Exos and a Thermarest Neoair, so it would be nice if we could track those down.

Dehydrating

There is a fan-heater-esque whirring noise coming from the kitchen. With only a tiny bit more than a month left until the TGO Challenge (eek!), and with a distinct lack of at-home time available, it seemed prudent to start the dehydrating exercise to make sure that we have enough food to see us between food-serving establishments.

In a frenzy of activity, Mick has cooked himself a large and potent chilli, whereas I took advantage of bananas being sold off at Tesco and bought a dozen, which have duly been skinned and sliced.

We now have two dehydrators on the go, with four trays of bananas and four trays of chilli creating an interesting aroma.

I have my doubts that any of the bananas will see the Challenge. Given that they don’t need to be rehydrated, they have a tendency to be eaten well before the trip for which they were intended.

In Praise Of Terra Nova

On the way home from my Edale Adventure at the beginning of March I popped into Terra Nova (TN) to return the inner of Vera Voyager. We had noticed during our Wet Highlight Washout in October that the groundsheet seemed to be leaking and although we tried initially to put the issue down to condensation as time went on that explanation just didn’t (hmmm, wash? hold water?) ring true.

Over the course of the following months I came up with various elaborate plans as to how I could test the waterproofness. Fortunately before I put one of those elaborate plans into action I had an attack of common sense, took a mug out of the cupboard, put an inch of water in it, pulled the fabric tight over the top and inverted the mug. The water came through. I repeated the exercise in various places and established that the entire groundsheet had become porous.

Given that I bought the tent in the middle of 2006, and it lost its waterproofness in 2008, my noddy (but conclusive) test was enough for me to return the inner under TN’s lifetime guarantee (thank goodness I kept that receipt!).

I think that it’s generally acknowledged that TN make jolly good tents, but anecdotal evidence is quite clear that their customer service can be a bit hit and miss, so I wasn’t convinced that the guarantee would be honoured without a fight.

Today I was pleasantly surprised. Although I didn’t find a parcel in the shed when I got home, nor a ‘sorry you were out’ card on the doormat, I did find a letter from TN. In it they confirmed that they had checked the inner and had found the groundsheet to be lacking. They also confirmed that they will provide a new inner. The only question they had for me was whether I wanted them to mail it to me or whether I wanted to collect.

This is my second dealing with TN over a warranty issue and the second time that they have come good. Either I am one of the lucky ones*, or their customer service is improving.

(*And perhaps it may have helped that the week before I returned Vera’s inner, I bought Susie Superlite from them).

Ooops - Slipped And Bought A New ...

My sleeping bag collection currently comprises:
Marmot Angel Fire – good to -9*
Rab Quantum 400W – good to -5
PHD 300 (Short) – good to 0
(Those are the official ‘good to’ figures; for me the PHD one is about right, the Rab one a iny bit optimistic and the Marmot one a bit more optimistic.)

The Rab and PHD ones I like a lot. Admittedly, if I had had the PHD one first, then I would have also got a Minim 400, rather than the Quantum 400, but there really is little about the Rab about which I can complain.

For a while now I’ve been lusting after a Minim 500 in Drishell and with a half zip to replace my Angel Fire. Theoretically it should be good to the same temperature, but the important factor for me was that the Minim weighs in at just 850g. Off the top of my head I thought that the Angel Fire weighed in at something like a bulky 1150g.

On Friday morning I nearly succumbed whilst browsing the PHD website. I got as far as adding the bag to my basket and proceeding to the check out, but when it came to clicking the button to complete the order I had an attack of conscience and started questioning whether I really needed to spend £200 on yet another sleeping bag just to save 300g and a bit of bulk – particularly when I haven’t used the Angel Fire very often (although that may be because it’s so big and heavy). Being very restrained, I left the online store without making a purchase.

On Sunday, I carried all of my down sleeping bag collection downstairs and started some serious contemplation (but it didn’t involve a spreadsheet, so I didn’t stoop to my usual levels of sadness).

The decision was made when I stuffed the monster bag into a stuff sack and weighed it – something that I don’t believe I had ever done before. Perhaps I was just in denial and wasn’t prepared to carry more than the advertised weight and thus convinced myself that it wasn’t heavier than that. Either way, I was shocked to place it on the scales and to find that it was nearly 1.5kg! That’s more than a quarter of the entire base-weight that I carried on Friday and Saturday!

The decision was made. The Angel Fire will be disposed of and an order was placed for the Minim 500.

So, in the last month that means that the kit collection has swelled by: a TN Voyager Superlite; a pair of Scarpa ZG65s; an OMM AR25 and a PHD Minim 500. Good thing that I’m now a gainfully employed person, eh?

(*Hmmm, just noticed that the Angel Fire, which was definitely advertised as having a comfort rating of -9 when I bought it a few years ago is now only stated to have a comfort rating of -3. I may have felt that -9 was an overstatement, but it's definitely warmer than that!)

Carneddau Lack of Photos

I did take a few photos over the weekend. Not many, but a few.

However, I completely failed to download them and I'm now in a different town to the camera.

So, I may download them later in the week, and if any of them are worthy of sharing, I may post them.

But, in the meantime, I'm afraid that it's just blocks of text.

Carneddau Quickie - Part 3

With tea drunk it was as a party of four that we left the bothy. Our timing was impeccable: the sun that had briefly broken through whilst we were indoors was once again covered by cloud and soon hail was in the air again.

We had not gone far before Alan and Robin decided to cross over to the other side of the valley and take a direct route back towards parking area, from where they would head over to Capel Curig. Given that we had only walked 2.5 miles from the parking area on Friday, I was after something of a longer walk on Saturday, and walking back towards the car so early in the day didn’t seem like it would achieve that. So, goodbyes were said as, in the absence of any advanced route planning, we chose a hill at random (small hill that is; in fact, more of a lump on the ridge really; we were avoiding the bigger tops on the basis of the wind strength and the lack of visibility) and set off to walk up it.

It was not only good TGOC training, but also a good test of the waterproofness of my new new boots (must blog separately about the problem that led to the replacement if my shiny new boots), as we yomped across country over tussocks and through bogs, steadily making our way up onto a ridge.

Our day continued on the same theme as each time we reached our next objective we picked another within our sight and set off towards it. As is Mick’s tendency, he did at one point pick out our next objective, only then to veer off in a different direction. Sometimes in such a situation I question why he’s heading in a different direction to the one he’d just indicated and sometimes I don’t. This time I didn’t and just trailed on behind (oh, I miss being fit!) and it wasn’t until we reached two rocky outcrops that he explained that he thought they looked more interesting than the lump for which we were heading – he just failed to communicate the change of plan to me!

Being blown around on top of our fourth lump of the day I dug the anemometer back out of my pack. Fifty miles per hour was the answer. There was something of a windchill accompanying it too, so we didn’t hang around too long, but found a bit of shelter before tucking into the snack-bar supplies.

It didn’t take us too long to run out of lumps along the ridge, so we took advantage of the good visibility down low (actually, by this point the higher tops were often out of the cloud too, but we weren’t moved to retrace our steps back along the ridge towards them) to come up with a vague plan as to how we were going to get back to the car.

The plan was easily executed, albeit with quite a lot of prickling when we had to wade through overgrown gorse along one (significant) length of path. I was thankful to be wearing Paramo; I hate to think of all the tiny pin-pricks of holes that may have resulted in GoreTex.

The temporary fine spell we had been enjoying waned as we rounded a spur on the other side of the valley. Suddenly it was cold again and the clouds were threatening to throw more hail at us. Then, before we knew it we were back on the track we had followed on our outward journey, from where it was just a hop, skip and a jump back to the car.

It was only 1pm, so it hadn’t been quite as long a walk as I had been after, but in terms of quality it was right up there. Not only had we tackled a good variety of terrain, but the lumps that we visited were perfectly lovely – and no doubt overlooked (no pun intended!) by the majority as they make a bee-line for the bigger tops.

Having unnecessarily carried lunch with us, a picnic was had before we set back in the direction of home and whilst Mick did the driving I did a bit of catching up on my sleep. Home was reached almost exactly 26 hours after we had left – so as trips go it really was a flying one, but a good one all the same. We’re planning something equally brief for next weekend, albeit it will be closer to home, so less time will be spent driving and (hopefully) more walking.

Carneddau Quickie – Part 2

By the time we made it to where Alan and Robin were pitched they were ensconced in their tents cooking tea, so just a quick hello was had we started looking around for somewhere to pitch – which was not as easy as it might have been with the soft, wet, tussocky and sloping ground (Alan had resorted to using his trekking pole as the rear peg for his tent – and it was sunk to three quarters of the way down its shaft – eek!).

After much faffing, we opted to perch upon a man-made lump which the others had discounted for being too hard a surface to get the pegs in. However, we only had titanium skewers with us, which would have been less-than-ideal in the bogginess, but were fine for working between the gravel and stones about an inch below the grassy surface of this flat-topped knoll.

Now, I should probably mention that it was a bit breezy. Even having put two pegs in the back of the tent before we started pitching it a hearty gust just as we had raised the poles tried to blow the tent off the hillside and in the process removed both of the pegs. When we couldn’t find one of them, we assumed that it had been catapulted down the hillside and was thus lost forever – a trifle annoying as this was the first outing of Susie and thus these were brand new pegs!

Water proved to be a tiny bit of a problem as the deep streambed next to which we were pitched had obviously for a long time been dry. Still, it was a lovely evening for a stroll up to and around the llyn to find a good stream, which is exactly what I did whilst Mick went to assist Alan with his surfeit of Whisky.

Much chatting was then had until simultaneously the light faded, I got cold and my stomach started rumbling so off I toddled to sort out some food, apply a down jacket and put on a head-torch (although not in that order).

By 8pm we were snuggled up in our sleeping bags, with an earphone of The Subtle Knife each, watching the tent periodically flattening on us from the tail end and with the sound of rain (or so we thought) hitting the nylon.

At 10pm the rain hadn’t let up and I was in that horrible camping scenario of really needing to use the en-suite whilst being very reluctant to do so in the rain. My procrastination was long enough that a brief respite in the weather finally came and Mick and I simultaneously dived into our clothes and for the door. Then we stopped dead as we saw the snow on the ground. A good blanket of an inch or so. Didn’t expect that!

In terms of the amount of sleep achieved, I think that the night has to go down as the second most sleepless of my camping life. The noise of the wind combined with a lack of exhaustion (if I’d walked 15 miles over hills the day before then I’m sure it would have been a different story) conspired to stop me from doing anything beyond occasional dozing.

Finally, at about 6am I dropped off and knew nothing until I woke up at 7.10, when I opened my eyes to find the front pole of the tent bent down to just above my face – which is most certainly not its correct position. It took me a few moments to work out that the wind had got stronger and had swung around in the night such that it was now hitting us head on (the anemometer held out of the front vent recorded 35mph; with hand freezing we didn’t wait for a big gust to measure that). Lying there watching the tent deform every few minutes, I suspected that we may have incurred a few curves in our poles!

Trying to make a cup of tea in the porch seemed futile in the absence of a windshield so the decision was made to make our way down to nearby Dulyn bothy for breakfast.

With uncanny timing we found ourselves ready to do battle with the wind and a flysheet just as Alan and Robin emerged to do the same with their tents. Depitching proved that we had indeed incurred curved poles in the night: every single one of them – one quite remarkably (but thanks to having taken the old poles from Vera I didn’t have to suffer the distress of a lost new peg and bent new poles!).

Wandering over to Alan and Robin we shared our immediate plan with them, and they opted to join us in the bothy for a cup of tea, so off we all set together and not long afterwards we were indoors and out of the wind – and questioning why we had all just spent a disturbed night in our tents when there was a perfectly good bothy less than a twenty minute walk away! (The answer being of course that if we had stayed in the bothy we wouldn’t have such a story to tell about our night of snow and gales.)

With tea at the forefront of our minds, Alan and Mick went off to gather enough water for thirty cups of tea (getting a bit carried away there), whilst I faffed with a stove and tea-makings and Robin decided to modify his layering. As a result of the latter two activities when Mick walked back into the room it was with the question “Should I be worried about walking into a room to find my wife alone with a man stripped down to his pants and just getting dressed again?”

And I think that’s as good a place as any to break the tale for now.

To be continued*…

(*My goodness, how much can a 20 hour trip to the hills be strung out?!)

A Carneddau Quickie

Quite a while ago Blogpacker Robin announced that he was going to be popping out for a long weekend in Snowdonia this weekend and indicated that he was amenable to people joining him. Alan quickly said that he would join the party and it looked for a while like it would be something of a micro-meet.

Being the far-from-organised people that we are, it wasn’t until last Sunday that I suggested to Mick that a trip to the Carneddau would be more interesting than yet another yomp over the Chase and proposed that we make the journey just for a quick overnight, with the intention of tying up with Robin & Alan. The wonders of modern communication were engaged and by mid-week I had the details of the proposed parking place and campsite.

In an extraordinary display of disorganisation it wasn’t until 10am yesterday morning, whilst Mick was busy working, that I started gathering together all of the gear we would need (disturbing Mick for some input, like “Which sleeping bag would you like to take” (I ignored his answer and packed a different one for him) and “Do you know where your mug or my hat is” (he didn’t; I subsequently found my hat in my (cheap, plastic) mug, but Mick’s (titanium) mug is still missing).

By approaching noon (having been distracted by all manner of things, not least some very tasty cake), I had all of the gear in a heap and was in the midst of conducting an experiment as to whether I could fit everything I would need for a coldish-weather backpack into my 35 litre OMM Jirashanca*. To complete the experiment I needed food and that was my next obstacle as we were rather lacking in supplies of food suitable for a backpacking trip.

With time pressing, speed and laziness prevailed and so I drove the mile down to the village to ransack the village store for such unappetising but light foodstuffs as Pasta n Sauce, plus a box of muesli bars.

Five minutes later I was home, having ascertained that every car parking space in the village was taken. Harrumph – we didn’t have time for this!

Five minutes later again, I was whizzing down the road on my bicycle (only whizzing because of the wind being strongly behind me; coming back was a bit more laboured!).

At the time that I had hoped to be on the road, I was just cooking a less-than-lightweight fresh pasta and sauce (seems that our local shop doesn’t sell even unappetising lightweight stuff any more) and stuffing the Hobson’s Choice of breakfast bars into our packs.

Then Mick got tied up on some work calls and then I realised that we ought to have some lunch before we left, and then when, over an hour later than intended, we finally got on the road we got stuck in horrible traffic and then we got caught in more horrible traffic, followed by a little more horrible traffic.

As a result of all of that, it was somewhat later than intended when we pulled up into the allotted parking area and so we wasted no time in donning our packs and making like rats up drainpipes along the track.

Three minutes later I was huffing puffing and we slowed down from the rat-up-drainpipe pace to something more sensible, and at such a pace we happily continued, marvelling at the lovely afternoon that had materialised and marvelling even more at the stunning surroundings.

Three quarters of an hour later two tents and two figures were spotted on the hillside ahead of us in roughly the area that we had expected to find Alan and Robin and so towards them we headed.

To be continued…

(*The 35-litre pack was just an idle experiment. My intention, with a couple of hours on my hands, was that I would then unpack and put everything in my OMM Villain to make sure that it wasn’t too much of a squeeze. When that couple of hours mysteriously disappeared in the blink of an eye I didn’t have time to switch packs and in any case had decided that everything fitted just fine in the smaller pack – and without even having to hang anything off the outside. The result was a very comfortable couple of days with a tiny pack weighing in at just under 6kg without water.)

Kinder Downfall

You may recall that two and a half weeks ago I had a slightly unsuccessful trip to Edale, when I really wanted to visit the Downfall, but failed miserably (about which I am still disappointed).

Other people were not so unsuccessful. Within a week pictures of the downfall had been featured on the blogs of Northern Pies Mike, Doodlecat Phil and Phreerunner Martin. All of those pictures were enough of a blow to my failure. Then tonight Mick arrived home from work and thrust his memory stick at me.

On it he had not just photos of the Downfall a few days after I was there, but also the following movie (courtesy of Phil (no, not that Phil, another Phil (whose permission to reproduce I don’t have – do shout if you object Phil))):

I’m a little less disappointed having seen the movie. There is not really a stream of water in the downfall is there? There’s just a single bucket of water. It tries to fall down, gets caught by the wind, goes back to the top and tries again – and repeat.

I still hope to get to see the Downfall in action one day and hopefully it will have more water in it than on 21 May last year, when it was more of a Kinder Tiny Trickle:

A Shock To The System

For the last eighteen months there has been little strain on my brain. Seldom have I had to think beyond issues such as ‘where shall I walk today’ or ‘right to go up hill or left to go down?’. I’ve certainly not had the call for lengthy concentration on complex issues.

Then, yesterday I rejoined the world of work.

In fact, I rejoined a company I left seven years ago, where the general assumption is that I recall everything that I knew all of those years ago.

My head hurts.

Still, it’s nice to be re-meeting lots of nice people who I haven’t seen for so long.

The bad news, of course, from the point of view of the Blog is that with Mick working up North and me working down South, there’s going to be significantly less time for walking this year.

Countering that, however, is that if all goes well I will have the pennies to go and buy kit that I want and to fund next year’s walking plans.