Sunday On The Chase

Continuing our recent run of good luck with walking weather, Sunday dawned with a clear blue sky.

We soon ruined the weather by the application of high factor of sun cream, but despite the gathering clouds the sky still held promise of staying dry and it was warm out.

We perhaps should have gone out to explore somewhere new, maybe even being so radical as to pop up the road to the Peak District, but in the end laziness won over and we opted to just pop over to Cannock Chase.

For a bit of variety, we journeyed over to the north side of the Chase, to a place called Punch Bowl. Whilst we’ve not set out from there before, we’re reasonably familiar with the area, having walked through many times after we’ve already completed the 20 mile walk from home.

Off we set without a plan (having walked the area so extensively, there’s not a single marked right of way that we haven’t already explored), adopting instead an approach of wandering aimlessly. At the second junction of paths we shunned the four main-path options and took a little trail uphill. From there, every time we got to a junction we just chose at random.

(Our journey along these seldom trodden minor paths was peppered with ‘potential campsite there’ comments. It’s all the fault of that John Hee, you know. Even though I professed earlier in the year that I wouldn’t even entertain an entry into his hip-pack competition, the thought has made its way into the back of my mind. The Chase would be a convenient location to try out the bivvy bag and thus every suitable bit of ground was being considered. And there’s just so much fuel around for the Bushbuddy…)

Inevitably, such a lax wandering approach, without any attention paid to map and compass, led after an hour to us finding that we had just walked in a loop. Even so, we saw some views that we hadn’t seen before,

Fine Views!

we had fun walking down some trails that were so overgrown with fern (above head height) that I kept losing sight of Husband, and some of the inclines we found were certainly getting the blood pumping.

Losing Husband in the overgrown ferns

Oh, and we stumbled across the Millenium Sundial (our experiment with which involved a little bit of guesswork, given that the sun was completely obscured behind a skyful of clouds).

Millennium Sundial (The stones around the edge have roman numerals on them which denote the time; stand on the appropriate month on the slab, see where your shadow lands, add an hour for BST).

Our arrival at another junction for the second time saw us get the compass out and apply a bit more precision to our walk and not long after we arrived at somewhere that we recognised.

Although we recognised it, it looked so different to usual. I then realised that we only generally walk around Cannock Chase between January and May. The swathes of purple heather and huge quantities of fern of late summer is not something I’ve witnessed in recent years (and already the tips of the fern is beginning to die off and some of the trees are changing colour).

The high ferns also turned out to be the answer to the question of where the deer hide in daylight hours. Bashing my way through the greenery, I’m not sure which of us jumped the most when I startled a deer hiding there!

Stepping Stones (library from 4 Feb - I didn't take one this week.)

Lunch at the popular spot of Stepping Stones (so few people out and about on this walk, but there’s still always a few families to be found at Stepping Stones) was marred slightly by the ignoramuses (ignorami?) who had had a party there at some point recently and thought it acceptable to leave the party size disposable barbeques, broken glasses and general detritus underneath one of the tables. Lunch was also marred by the fact that the people on the next table had a full-on picnic whereas we had oatcakes with a tube of vegetable pate. I groaked hard, but the neighbours just weren’t paying heed!

After lunch another reasonably sized loop was executed further to the south. The surroundings were all enjoyable (except for the bit where it sounded like a war had broken out, as we passed by the neighbouring shooting club) but it was with disappointment that I found that the ice cream van wasn’t present at Seven Springs as we passed by. I’d been fantasising about an ice cream for the previous hour!

Except for a few short drizzly spells, the rain held off until we were within half a mile of the car. Excellent timing.

As we have no clue where precisely we walked for the first chunk of the day, I’ve not been able to measure the distance that we covered. Our guess (based on time and pace) was that it was around 9 or 10 miles. Again, not particularly far, but thanks to the short jogette around the village before we went out for the walk, my legs were feeling reasonably exercised by the end of the day.

All being well, next weekend will involve hills. Maybe even reasonably big hills…

[Note: This was my first experiment with putting photos amongst the text. As you'll see, it's not gone incredibly well. I will sort out the formatting, but I've already spent an hour getting increasingly annoyed with it, so that's a job for another day)

LEJOG Plannng - From Falkirk North

I’ve spent a good chunk of today sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and maps, and scratching my head at some length.

Our lack of experience of walking in Scotland (we’re actually supposed to be there right now, coming into the final week of a two and a half week jaunt that was aimed at gaining a bit of experience in the general areas where we are to walk next year) is proving to be something of an impediment to all of this planning. I’m also finding that it’s just not feasible to fit in all of the places in Scotland that I’d like to visit (some of those will have to be reserved for our first TGO Challenge).

The one place that I really want to visit on the walk is the Falkirk Wheel, so thus far I’ve planned a route from the border up to Falkirk.

From Falkirk, the result of all of the head scratching has been a list of five possible routes (albeit some are just minor variations on a theme):

1. Falkirk – Drymen – WHW – Fort William – Glen Affric – Inverlael – Oykel Bridge - Lairg – Kinbrace – Dunnet Head – JOG

2. Falkirk – Drymen – a route east of the WHW via Brig o’Turk, Killin, Bridge of Gaur and Laggan to Fort Augustus – Glen Affric, then as Route 1.

3. Falkirk – Drymen – WHW to Tyndrum – then a route to the east of the WHW to Bridge of Gaur the as Route 2.

4. Falkirk – Kilsyth – Kippen – Callander – Crieff – Aberfeldy – Pitlochry – Blair Atholl – Larig Ghru – Aviemore – Inverness – Dingwall – Oykel Bridge – then per Route 1.

5. Falkirk – Kilsyth – Kippen – Brig o’Turk then as Route 2.

To whittle this list down, it has been a process of elimination.

My starting point was that I didn’t want to include the WHW into our route, so that rules out Route 1.

I really would like to include the Larig Ghru; however, Husband used to live in north east Scotland and has driven up and down the A9 more times than he would care to think about. For that reason, he doesn’t fancy a route that runs up by the A9. So, that rules Route 4 out.

That leaves us with three possibilities, two of which at least touch the West Highland Way (and it just seems a bit counter-intuitive to me to go all the way west to go north when you could just head north west). So, I think that I’ll start by plotting Route 5 and see how it looks. If we don’t like the look of it, then it will be back to the drawing (or plotting) board.

Cutting An Arm Off

Never have I been so desperate for someone to cut his own arm off.

Having had a bit of a run of reading adventure/disaster sorts of books over the last couple of years (it all started when my ex-boss lent me a copy of Into Thin Air), I’ve just finished reading ‘Between A Rock & A Hard Place’ by Aron Ralston.

Let me just do a quick compare and contrast between this book and a few other well known stories:

Into Thin Air/The Climb: Few people reading these books would be familiar with the ins and outs of climbing something as big as Everest, therefore it’s all good and interesting to have lots of description about the logistics and the issues of such an expedition. Then there’s all the description about the acclimatisation exercises and the health issues. Then there’s a big storm and lots of description about how that affected lots of people. Then there was the aftermath.

So, there was a huge amount of material to be included in the books. Neither book was particularly long (my copy of Into Thin Air: 288 pages), and both were packed full of interest and action.

Whilst Into Thin Air has received much criticism, I found it to be an incredibly gripping read (and of course, I had to follow it with The Climb just to get a different angle on the events).

Touching the Void: Again, the lead up to how the accident happened was entirely relevant to the accident and there was plenty to describe. The climb itself was an interesting subject. Then there was the accident which was followed by days of all of the various problems that Joe had to overcome in order to get himself back to camp and to survive. Then there was the aftermath.

The book was remarkably short considering the story it told (199 pages – no room for waffle at all), and it shared with the Everest books the attribute of having plenty of material to fill it.

Then there’s Rock & A Hard Place. I don’t think I’d be ruining the story for anyone (as I’m not going to say more than is on the back cover) to summarise the story as follows: A chap goes for a 10 mile walk in the wilderness without so much as telling anyone which county he’s going to be in; he gets half way when a boulder falls trapping his arm against a canyon wall; he sits there for five days and very nearly dies; on the fifth day, he amputates his own arm and gets rescued.

Without wanting to belittle what he went through, given that he was trapped in one place and fundamentally had only one problem to contend with (i.e. how to free himself), that’s not an awful lot of story, yet the book is longer (342 pages) than the other books that I’ve named which had ten times the story to tell.

So, how did he fill the spare space? He described various other trips he had made in his life – most of which stories only went to show (in my opinion) that the chap has a great ability to behave either stupidly or recklessly (not that either trait had any bearing on the accident that ensued – it really could have happened to anyone).

Let me stress again that I don’t want to belittle what Aron went through and the strength of character that led to his survival. The relevant parts of the book showed that what he did was amazing. I don’t deny that most people probably wouldn’t have come out of it alive. He most definitely had a story to tell; my problem was that the story wasn’t a very long one – and the book was.

It’s taken me an absolute age to drag myself through its pages (why didn’t I just abandon it as a bad job? Husband had already read it and told me that it improved. He was right: the last fifty pages were quite interesting).

And so I found myself, by day three of the unfortunate events of Aron’s trip, just desperately waiting for him to cut his arm off, which would indicate that I was getting to the end of the story and that I could move on to read something more interesting.

Of course all of that is entirely subjective. Others will have hated Into Thin Air, some will love Between a Rock. Please don’t let me put you off from reading any of them…

Random Thoughts

Pacerpoles
The test of the Pacerpoles was carried out on Sunday. First impressions weren’t great when the right one refused to lock at the height at which I needed it. I used it short for a while, then adjusted it and it held just fine. Hopefully it was a one off glitch.

I hadn’t thought that the difference in weight between my carbon poles and Husband's standard ones would be really noticeable in use, but having walked for a short distance with one of each, we were both in agreement that mine were very noticeably lighter.

Not much else that I can say. The handles are the same as the standard model, so in use they performed exactly like I expected them to.

Oh, and Husband enjoyed the novelty of an entire walk without his poles disappearing into my hands!
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Imitation Crocs
Okay, so my resolve not to stop spending money on gear didn’t last long, but I think that I can just about justify £5.

The order for my PHD jacket didn’t include the down booties that I had been considering. I couldn’t justify the £29 expenditure. Although the ability of my feet to turn into blocks of ice is legendary, ordinarily when I’m camping my feet can retreat to my sleeping bag to warm up. I don’t usually stand outside of a tent chatting until all hours of night, and thus the cold footed experience of the night in the Brecon Beacons is not the norm.

As a compromise, I decided that a pair of Crocs may be the answer. That would allow me to walk around camp in dry footwear with thick socks.

At £30 for a pair of genuine Crocs, I would not have forked out the money. As light as they are, I’m not sure that when packing for a trip I will be able to convince myself to carry the extra weight (they fall definitely into the category of ‘nice to have’ rather than being a necessity). However, finding some rip-off Crocs in Asda for £5, I thought they would be worth trying (Sister delighted in telling me later that she could have got me a pair for £2!). At the worst they’ll live by the front door for popping outside in in wet weather, so I doubt that it will be £5 wasted.

And the weight? 170g for the pair! If I was to cut all of the ridiculously long straps off my Osprey Aura (admitting that I’m never going to have the 80 inch hips that it is prepared to take), I could probably save most of that weight…
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Modern Communication
Bit of a random one here that’s not remotely outdoor related, but I’m going to mention it anyway: Husband was telling me about an article that he had been reading regarding mobile phone technology.

Apparently there is now software available for mobiles that allows text messages to be converted to a voice message. So, you send a text, and the person that receives it can listen to it.

There is also functionality available that allows text messages to be written by voice commands.

So, it is now possible for someone to speak a message, that gets converted to text, sent to another mobile phone and for that person to listen to that text message.

And to think that in the old days we used to be so old fashioned as to pick up the phone and have a conversation!!

A Sunday Afternoon Stroll: Stoodley Pike

Monday’s planned activity was to plumb in a new radiator for Ma-in-Law, which meant a trip to West Yorkshire. Fancying a bit of a walk on Sunday (preferably one that permitted a test of the new carbon Pacerpoles), we thought that we would take the opportunity to walk somewhere other than our usual local haunts. West Yorkshire seemed to be a good option.

A quick flick through a book of walks late on Saturday night led me to choose Todmorden as the starting point and the Stoodley Pike Monument as the main feature of the walk. Alas, I didn’t actually read any of the information in the book, but having decided on the location, picked out my own route off the map – the downside of which approach being that I didn’t see until afterwards the advice to take a torch so as to assist in ascending the stairs of the monument.

Having not arrived in Todmorden until gone 2.30, we still managed to dally a while (on a pasty hunt for lunch!) before seeking out the Calderdale Way to lead us out of town. Then, given the choice of a nice gentle, limestone paved route up onto Langfield Common, or the direct route, we did of course select the ‘interesting’ direct route uphill, which by and by led us to join up with the Pennine Way, which we followed to Stoodley Pike Monument.

Once at the monument, it was a bit of groping around in the pitch dark to find our way up the steps to the viewing balcony. But what a splendid day it was for it! Not only was it fine, but there was no haziness, so the views were both clear and far-reaching. What a shame that I had forgotten the camera (for which I kicked myself repeatedly) –I think it unlikely that the next time we’re there (25 May 2008, according to the itinerary) we will be lucky enough to have such good weather conditions.

Yet more groping in the dark saw us back down the steps and onwards along the Pennine Way until it crossed the Pennine Bridleway, which then took us to Mankinholes.

From Mankinholes, a few paths took us to the canal which (after we managed to squeeze our way past a large group of ramblers – the third such group we had encountered – and noted once again that people walking in a large group are wont to a) walk five abreast and b) assume that anyone walking behind them is part of their group and thus could not possibly want to pass) led us back to Todmorden.

It was our first outing in this particular area (although we have ambled along a couple of other sections of the Pennine Way nearby) and we both enjoyed the moorland – although without a doubt it’s a much more pleasant place on a warm sunny day than it would be on a dank misty day.

The mileage for the day was only 9.5 miles, but it was still nice to be out, even if only for a relatively short one.

PHD Minimus Jacket

As a conclusion to our kit expenditure, before unemployment and the resultant lack of income hits us shortly, the PHD Minimus Jacket was ordered at the very start of the PHD sale last Saturday at the bargain price at £89 with the colour choices of olive or olive. I went for the olive.

Yesterday the jacket arrived (thanks to Postie for signing for it himself and leaving it in the shed; not strictly the correct thing for him to do, but very much appreciated). As expected, the size small is somewhat on the large side for a wee slip of a girl. The sleeves in particular will happily cover my hands and then some. The body would probably house me in five big jumpers after a big dinner. In spite of these issues, I like it a lot.

Admittedly, one of the warmer days of this summer was probably not the best test for it, but early indications are that it will be very snugly and warm.

It also weighs nothing. Just under 310g with its stuff sack according to my balance scales (which according to the local Post Office under-weigh, but according to my usual Post Office over-weigh – surely Post Office scales should be calibrated, if for no other reason than to establish the accuracy of my scales?).

I had planned to make a couple of mods to the jacket to bring the weight down (and to make it fit a bit better), but as it seemingly weighs nothing, I think that I’ll save the effort and associated cursing at sewing machine and leave it just as it is.

With my colour co-ordination, the colour wasn’t hugely important, but I'm pleased to say that ‘olive’ has turned out to be perfectly acceptable (it’ll set off my purple gloves and red buff a treat…).

LEJOG Planning (Part 2.2)

Once suitable campsites were located, the next trial was to plot the route between them.

The main difficulty here was not related to the problems with Anquet Mapping about which I have ranted previously; the main difficulty here is more to do, I think, with being blonde and female. Both traits mean that I get disorientated easily. With the very small portion of map that’s visible on the screen when you’ve got it blown up to 250% (the size needed in order accurately to plot the route), and with the task of trying to join footpaths and small road sections into a workable route, it’s all too easy to lose the bigger picture. Much time has been spent zooming out to 75% to see the big picture and zooming back in to 250% to do the plotting – only then to forget which paths I had intended to plot or missing the village that I was heading for, such that I then had to zoom back out again… and so it went on.

As I had fully expected, the easiest parts of the route to plan have been the Offa’s Dyke Path and the Pennine Way. Following the ‘Long Distance Path’ pink diamonds on the small section of map that’s visible on a 17” computer screen at 250% magnification is a lot easier than trying to make up your own route (although I did once or twice accidentally wander off route as two LDPs crossed each other).

Accommodation is also a bit easier to find on these routes, although a significant amount of searching was still required to hunt out places to camp on the ODP.

The Tent: She Is On Order!

Last night Husband was somewhat bemused as I started pitching the inner of our TN Voyager in the living room. He was more bemused when I crawled inside with a tape measure. It was all part of the Warmlite/Voyager comparison exercise. The exercise turned out positively in favour of the Warmlite.

Having crawled back out of the tent, I had a very useful telephone conversation with a nice lady at Stephenson’s.

Today, I have placed our order for our Warmlite 2R.

My previous indecision as to which extras we need/want was solved by both Alan Sloman and Husband independently stating the same spec.

So, the order is for a 2R with large door and wind stabilisers. Colours chosen are the very unadventurous green for the middle section and light green for the ends. Or, as Warmlite would term this tent, it will be a 2RW-LD-G-LG.

Payment was looking a bit scary from reading their website (no credit cards; cheques must be drawn on a US bank; wire transfers from overseas), however, in talking to them it transpired that they can accept Paypal payments for a fee of 4%. Not only is Paypal easier (no need for Swift Codes, ABA Numbers and other such confounding things), but 4% is a whole lot cheaper than a wire transfer.

Lead time is 6-8 weeks (or so they tell me). My very, very nice boss (who won’t be my boss by the time the tent is despatched) has kindly agreed to take delivery of the tent in the US and hand-carry it to the UK for me. I’m hoping that that will cut down on the likelihood of it going astray within the US Postal Service in addition to saving a bit more money.

With a bit of luck (and if Mother allows us to try it this side of Christmas, as technically this is our Christmas present from her) then we’ll be testing it out in December.

LEJOG Route Planning (Part 2.1)

Continuing from a theme that I started a few weeks ago, I said that I would next talk about how I’ve gone about the route planning so far.

The concept didn’t seem to be that difficult:

1. Pick a destination for each day that looked about the right distance away from the starting point (ie around 15 miles and not more than 25 miles)
2. Find accommodation in or near to that place
3. Plan a route between the start and the accommodation
4. Plot it and print it
5. Repeat 80 or so times until the destination of John O’Groats is reached.

Having planned the route through England and Wales, I think I can speak with some level of experience in saying that the most difficult part of the route planning has been the accommodation factor.

An initial budgeting exercise led me to the plan that we would camp for an average of 5 nights per week and staying in a B&B for the other two.

That meant that for an average of five nights per week, I needed to find campsites at the end of the day.

Well, what a task finding suitable campsites turned out to be!

Naively, I started out with the notion that Cornwall and Devon would be the easy places to plan as campsites abound down there. It transpired that I was right about the quantity of campsites. Unfortunately, very few are conveniently located and whereas a five mile detour is nothing when you have wheels to assist you, when on foot even a mile out of the way becomes a big deal.

So, the great campsite hunt began. I knew from past experience that the tent symbol on the map is not a reliable indicator, but it’s still a good starting point when searching (in that it gives you a place name to start your search with). The ukcampsite website was a good resource, but turned out not to be as comprehensive as I had previously thought. A couple of other regional campsite listings that I found (such as www.find-a-campsite.co.uk) turned out to be useful. Other people’s LEJOG diaries helped. If all else failed, I resorted to more general searches on Google, which every now and then did turn up some useful information.

Of course, finding an address for a campsite doesn’t help when you’re not familiar with the area, so armed with my lists of campsites that seemed to be in the vicinity of places that we wanted to include on our route, yet more hours were spent with the computer whirring away to capacity as I used Multimap to convert post-codes to useful map positions (and finding that a postal address of ‘Helston’ can mean ‘not anywhere near Helston at all, actually’), from which I could discern whether the campsite would be useful to us.

As it turned out I was so successful in finding campsites that between Land’s End and the Scottish Border, if we stick to my planned itinerary, there are only seven nights that we have no option* but to stay in a B&B (and four of those are in joining the ODP with the PW). Husband was taken aback by that statistic until I reassured him that the fact that there is a campsite in an area doesn’t mean that we have to use it instead of a B&B – it just gives us the option!

(* not strictly true; there’s always the possibility that we’ll find a suitable hedge behind which to secrete ourselves for a night, or encounter a friendly farmer who’ll let us use his land legally)

Decisions, Decisions

Let me start by making two statements about myself, in case anyone hadn’t worked them out:

1. When it comes to buying something when there are various options available, I’m hopeless at making a decision.
2. I’m a sad cow; making a decision on things like a tent often involves the copious use of a spreadsheet.

This week’s contemplation has been on the subject of a new tent.

I first looked at the Stephenson’s Warmlite tents quite a long time ago, but I didn’t believe any of the wild claims made on their website. Having now seen one in the flesh, having read lots more reviews about them and having read the Warmlite website in such detail that I almost have it memorised, I’ve very nearly come to the conclusion that we will get one.

The question then became which one to choose.

The obvious model to go for is the 2R – plenty big enough for the two of us and with the basic model (ie without any optional extras) weighing in at (let me just consult the spreadsheet…) 1246g.

But then there’s the 3C, which is even bigger still (152cm wide and 104cm high for the entire length of the main section) and only weighs in at 1.7kg.

I managed to rule out the 3C on the basis that we really don’t need a tent that big, and the bigger the tent the bigger the pitch needed and the less discretely it can be pitched in places where one shouldn’t be pitching.

So, that brought us back to the 2R, which should have been the decision made, except that the Warmlite tents come with lots of options, all of which add weight and cost money and therefore involve yet more decisions.

Firstly there’s the big door at an extra 56g and $15. A no-brainer in my opinion. We will have the big door.

Then there’s the internal stabiliser straps at 71g and another $15. The website says that you don’t need them at wind speeds of less than 95mph, but elsewhere implies that you may like to have them at windspeeds at over 60mph. We’ve camped in winds gusting to 70mph (in a ridiculously inappropriate, but fortunately well pitched tent). We’ve run scared from forecasts of gusts to 90+mph. So, it’s not beyond the realms of possibility that we would use the straps if we had them. And, for the weight and price, they seem worthwhile.

Then there’s the optional side windows. Now this is where I’m really stumped. 142g and $44. If the tent had a mesh front door then I’d be happy without the side windows. If there was an option for a window on just one side then I’d be happy (but then why not just have a mesh option on the front door?).
The side vents apparently don’t affect the stability of the tent, but surely having mesh on the inside degrades from the warmth and condensation-proof-ness of the sealed inner between the poles?

So, that would seem to bring us to the decision of the 2R, with big door and stabiliser straps at 1375g.

But without the mesh windows, would it be awful to be holed up in the tent in midge-infested places or bad weather? This isn’t a decision that we can afford to get wrong.

Then, just as we may be moving towards a decision, we throw ‘from stock’ versus ‘custom made’ into the equation. If we buy a model from stock then (not only do we get 10% off) but I can also probably get someone to hand carry it over for me, saving on postage and the like. If we buy a custom made model, then we’ll have to wait and play the postal lottery. And that’s the next problem, because the models they have in stock have the big door, but also have the windows rather than the stabiliser straps. For ease do we take the windows and forgo the stability straps? Or do we wait and pay more and get the ideal model (if I can ever decide what that is?).

Arrrggghhhh.

There’s always the TN Voyager Superlite. Not as big, light, or sturdy, but an easy option.

To Finish Talking About Last Weekend - Before Next Weekend Is Upon Us

Gosh. Thursday already and I’ve not finished talking about my weekend yet.

So, back to Saturday evening, which started with a nice meal with friends. Returning home, taking two of those friends with us (let’s call them V&J, for ease of reference), it was time for the receipt of yet more birthday gifts.

And what fantastic gifts they were.

My wish-list included an entry for the Wainwright Pictorial Guides to the Lakeland Fells, which are woefully missing from my (bulging) bookshelves. I thought that, if I was lucky, I may receive one or two of the volumes. What I didn’t expect to receive was all seven of them as a box set.

Despite having walked many of the Lakeland fells as a child, the Wainwright guides didn’t feature in my family, so I’ve never before had more than a quick flick through any of them. I’m now very much enjoying a good browse.

The other gift was the expected Pacerpoles (just a day too late in arriving to get their first test in the Beacons). I’m pleased to report that the carbon version does look sufficiently different from the standard version (different markings, different coloured chord) for me not to feel like Husband and I are ‘his & hers matching’. With a bit of magic and if I indulge in a bit of sleep deprivation, I may find time this weekend to take them for a very short walk over local fields.

Perhaps due to the influence of a small quantity (as large buckets go) of wine, the late hours of the evening seemed like an appropriate time for a session of ‘show and tell’ on the subject of backpacking, as we progressively emptied our packs over the living room floor.

V&J sat very patiently, oohed and aahed in appropriate places as we showed them what it was that we carried and listened politely as we raved about the joys of walking and wild camping.

I’m hoping that we’ve not applied undue influence, for although they didn’t jump for joy at the thought of camping, on Tuesday they asked for a gear list of what they’ll need for a B&B based walking trip. Having answered that question, I’ve today put a parcel of reading matter and maps in the post to them to give them a starter for ten. Having enticed them this far, wherever they decide to go for their first foray into this walking malarkey, I do hope that they enjoy it!

Brecon Beacons (Part 2)

The cold feet that had sent me scurrying off to my sleeping bag then woke me up every two hours during the night, until finally at 5.30am I awoke to find them warm.

Two hours later I awoke again to find myself absolutely roasting. The sun had come up and even at the early hour of day it was turning the inside of the tent into a sauna.

I was soon up putting the kettle on and it wasn’t long before everyone else was milling around.

Not being in any great rush to get moving (rather hoping that some of the others would catch up with us so that I could say hello before we had to leg it back to the car) we spent a leisurely couple of hours drinking tea, packing away and marvelling at how different the weather was from the day before.

By 9.30 we had said our goodbyes and had donned our packs, when two people were spotted heading down the path in the general direction of our camping spot. We sat back down for a while to see if anyone was going to join us, but finally (after wandering down stream to see where they’d gone) I decided that they were complete strangers. So, once again we donned our packs and headed off uphill to the north, whilst Alan and Geoff headed off to the west.

Once we got up onto the ridge (is ridge the right word when it’s a gentle slope on one side but drops away the other?) more than a few ‘wows’ and ‘ooohs’ were uttered, not just at the views but also at the impressive terrain immediately around us. The camera was put into good use.

Once we got into a position that we could see the whole of the walk ahead of us, I did start to get a bit concerned that we didn’t have time to do the walk we had intended. However, there was no obvious shortcut to be taken so we carried on regardless (and of course, got back to the car in plenty of time to get us back to the Midlands in time).

We had the first part of the ridge to ourselves (apart from the sheep, some of which were standing on ridiculously steep ground just below us; surely some of them must lose concentration and fall off?). In fact, it wasn’t until the second llyn came into view that we started encountering people.

By the time we were half way along the llyn, it was quite obvious that we were in the vicinity of a car park by the dozens of people that were suddenly around us.

We had intended to drop down off the ridge at the end of the llyn to take the lower level path back to the car, but once we got there the decision was made that as the views were so extensive from up high and the breeze so nice and refreshing, we would continue on the high route.

Although the path was less well defined along this section, it still seemed to be reasonably busy on this fine day, until as we started dropping back down towards the car we must have reached the time of day when people had stopped setting out for their walks and suddenly we were back by ourselves.

At the bottom of the hill, we soon found the public right of way that we had intended to be on – only to then find within a hundred yards or so of our destination that the footpath was closed due to an unsafe bridge. I didn’t pay a huge amount of attention, but the diversion route looked to be about a mile around (and involved backtracking – so why wasn’t there a notice where the diversion started?). Given that a) I wasn’t about to backtrack unnecessarily and b) on closer inspection the closure notice was dated last November and had a duration of 6 months, we decided to give the bridge a closer inspection.

It held our weights admirably, so within minutes we were breathing a sigh of relief to find that the car was still where we left it and still in one piece.

And then we were off, haring towards the Midlands and the promise of an evening full of food and wine.

A First Trip To The Brecon Beacons (Part 1)

On a work-day, I get out of bed between 6am and five past. I shower, vaguely do something with my hair, faff about which suit to wear, throw a not inconsiderable amount of food in a bag and leave the house by 6.30am. A twenty five minute turn around time.

Somehow, when we’re going for a walk we can never manage anything so timely. On Friday I was once again in despair over our ability to faff as, even with the bags all packed and ready to go, it still took us an hour and a half between getting up and leaving the house (not so bad when you consider that our record this year stands at 3 hours).

Off to the BBNP we drove, arriving at the recommended parking spot late in the morning, after a trip to a local Visitor Centre to procure a map.

In a rush of blood to the head before we left the car I figured that as the weather forecast had predicted no rain and as the woman who served us in the Visitor Centre confirmed the forecast for no rain, I would not take my waterproof trousers.

It almost goes without saying that within half an hour of leaving the car, the sky had clouded over and it had started to drizzle.

By the time we stopped for lunch at the ‘alternative camping spot’, the drizzle had turned into that style of rain that gets you really wet. I was ruing my decision on the trousers (that is ‘ruing’ in a whinging sort of way, causing Husband to give me a one minute timeslot to get all of my whinging out of the way in one go; had anyone been passing during that minute they would perhaps have thought me a little mad (and as it turned out the rain didn’t get bad enough to warrant using the trousers anyway)).

It was early afternoon when we arrived at the ‘primary camping spot’, with the intention of just checking it out before taking a walk up to the ridge with the intention of taking a circular walk.

Alas, the cloud was down and the rain was still persisting. Visibility at the camp spot wasn’t great and up on the ridge was awful. With no views to be seen, pursuing the circular walk would have achieved only a bit of exercise, so back down to the camp spot we headed.

With a few hours to kill before it was a respectable time to pitch the tent, it seemed like an ideal opportunity to test out the Bushbuddy – and fortunately I’d picked up some sticks early in the walk as it turned out that there was no wood available where we were.

Taking Podcast Bob’s tip that tampons make a very good firelighting material, it only took us a couple of attempts to get it going and we soon had water boiled for tea.

It was 5pm when (with the rain coming down anew) we decided that as we’d seen only one other person out walking all day, and in that the pitching spot was reasonably secluded, we wouldn’t be offending anyone if we pitched the tent at the early hour and took shelter.

A couple of hours later, the rain had stopped and the sky was clearing nicely. Tea was just being heated when Husband spotted someone up on a ridge opposite. The sole figure seemed to be heading in our direction and given the time of day and the total lack of people around, it seemed quite likely that it was one of the expected people.

Ten minutes or so later, another figure appeared on the ridge.

A guessing game of who they may be ensued, which was curtailed when both arrived from different directions at the same time. One turned out to be Litehiker, the other was Alan Sloman.

It was pitch dark when a light was seen approaching a couple of hours or so later. The light turned out to be two lights and a while later into camp arrived Ali and Lay.

Another couple of hours were then pleasantly spent chatting away, sipping on Alan’s most plentiful whisky supply and watching the occasional interesting light flying across the sky. Never before have I seen a shooting star, never mind a meteor shower. On Friday night I was treated to both in addition to the most amazing display of stars.

Eventually, my icy feet sent me scurrying off to the warmth of my sleeping bag for the night and soon silence fell as the others did likewise.

To be continued…

Salomon XA Pro XCR

Starting with the first exciting occurrence of the weekend* (because getting new shoes IS exciting):

I got home on Thursday evening to find that Postie had paid heed to my note on the front door and left the parcel that was my new Salomon XA Pro shoes in the shed. Phew! No need to go barefoot on Friday.

Although I’d tried them on a couple of times before, I had been having last minute wobbles as to whether I’d got the right size. A quick try on (they looked so very sexy with my dark brown skirt suit!) allayed my concern.

The wobbles returned on Friday morning when I removed the tags and put them on with proper socks. Suddenly panic hit that maybe I’d bought half a size too small.

A walk around the garden (followed by a change of socks – the Smartwool running ones weren’t working at all), was enough to convince me that they were worth trying for the couple of days away, although just in case of a last minute change of heart, I did throw my boots into the car too.

It always happens when I have a new pair of walking shoes that I spend at least the first half an hour of the walk obsessing about whether they’re comfortable, whether they’re going to start chewing up my feet, whether they’re too big, too small, whether I got it expensively wrong.

The good news is that by the end of the day even though I had extraordinarily wet feet (and yet I’d bought the waterproof version and at no point did I step in water that went over the top of the shoe; I’m guessing that the soaked trouser bottoms in turn soaked my socks which in turn caused water to seep into the shoes), which later in the night turned into very cold feet, the first test of the shoes was declared a resounding success.

I had thought that Terrocs were made for my feet that that the Salomon may be a touch too neat across the toe. That turned out not to be the case at all. I now declare the Salomons to be even more comfortable than the Terrocs.

I’m still not sufficiently convinced by the ‘trail shoe = cold wet feet’ thing to use them for multi-day trips where wet terrain is likely, but for day trips and overnights it looks like they’ll do the job nicely**.

Notes:
* Strictly, Thursday wasn’t the weekend, but given that I had taken Friday off work, I’m counting it as the weekend this week.
** That is to say that they’ll do the job nicely unless I’m planning on spending the night with wet feet standing around chatting, in which case something dry and very warm would definitely be a good plan. For single nights when I’m planning on spending the evening sitting in my sleeping bag, the cold feet problem is manageable and they’ll do nicely.

So Much To Say; So Little Time

I had good plans to waffle on at some length tonight about my excellent weekend. It has involved new shoes, a visit to an area in which I have never before set foot, meeting some jolly nice people, having a couple of good (albeit short) walks, seeing spectacular things happen with stars and meteors, having extended birthday celebrations with friends (with a slightly unnecessary amount of wine), receiving new books AND new poles and managing the never before achieved feat of putting all of our gear away within twenty four hours of getting home. And, the sun shone for a lot more of the time than it rained.

But the waffling will have to be postponed, for having oohed and ahhed at length upon seeing Alan Sloman’s Wanda Warmlite (www.alansloman.blogspot.com) in the flesh this weekend, I’ve just spent a despicable amount of time browsing the Stephenson’s Warmlite website.

Rambling Random Thoughts

The dehydrator is whirring away. In an uncharacteristic display of organisation, and in view of the upcoming overnight to the Brecons* this weekend, I cooked a double helping of pasta and sauce last night and dehydrated half of it.

With the dehydrator still dominating the worksurface when I got home from work tonight, and conveniently sitting next to the fruit bowl of over-ripe fruit (I don’t like to complain about the hot weather, but it does make the fruit ripen rather quickly), I set it to work on some apples, pears and bananas.

Dried fruit rarely makes it onto the hills, mind. It generally gets snacked on within days of being prepared.
(* and yes, I know that strictly speaking that should be the ‘Beacons’, but to me it just doesn’t sound right!)

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I ordered my Terroc replacements, in the form of the Salomon XA Pro, on Monday night. Wiggle once again impressed me. I ordered two items, one of which was out of stock. Having selected the free delivery option, I didn’t expect the order to be despatched until both items were available.

So, I was pleasantly surprised to be told yesterday that the shoes had been despatched.

Alas, they didn’t arrive today. Can’t really complain for free delivery, but it’d be useful, if they do arrive tomorrow if the Postie would be so kind as to leave them in the shed, rather than returning them to the depot – that way I’ll be able to try them out on Friday (otherwise, I’ll be the one walking with bare feet…).
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Typing about my shoes I just realised that my pacerpoles haven’t arrived yet. A quick check of the email tells me that they’re on their way.
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Although I do now own practically every item of outdoors gear that I could possibly want or need, I do still have a limited wish-list. Up the top of that list is a lighter-weight down jacket (as much as I like my Alpkit one, and am quite happy to carry it in cold winter weather, it is a bit on the bulky and heavy side). I had pretty much decided on the Mont Bell Ultra Light Inner and had intended to ask my boss to bring one from the US for me next time he was coming over (which would have got me the girls version for £50; in the UK I would have had to have settled for the boys version at £100).

However, right on the cusp of buying I had a change of heart and decided that being the cold blooded lass that I am, the extra weight (and good reviews) of the PHD Minimum was probably worthwhile (even though I’ll have to buy a jacket that’s too big; they don’t do my size). Not being in any great rush for it, I thought I’d wait to see if they were going to have a sale any time soon.

So, I was most pleased to see Weird Darren’s post yesterday announcing the PHD sale, including the said jacket at a whopping discount. What’s the betting that the ‘limited stock’ doesn’t involve any size small?
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LEJOG printing is still proceeding – 20 more pages printed today. I’ve got maps printed (double sided) for the first 45 days now. Tomorrow I will print the final 5 of the England and Wales leg. Then I’ll have to finally turn my mind back to the planning activities.
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Oooh, and if I get the time, I may make an interesting announcement tomorrow – otherwise, it’ll have to wait until the end of the weekend… (cliffhanger eh?)

Gadgets Galore

Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me-e-e-e
Happy birthday to me

As usual outdoorsy presents predominated.

I am now the proud owner of a Bushbuddy Ultra (www.bushbuddy.ca). I always knew that it was amazingly lightweight as portable woodburners go, but on first touch and feel I was surprised at quite how light it is considering its size. The metal seems almost flimsily thin, but as others have commented, it appears to be a very well made piece of kit.

It was, of course, obligatory to go out into the garden, gather some twigs and boil a kettley thing of water. Admittedly, it may have been considered as cheating to use a blow torch to get the fire going rather than using all those skills they taught us in the girl guides, but it did the trick nicely, and in a surprisingly short space of time I had 700ml of boiling water (which made me a very nice cup of tea).

The Buhbuddy in action

I also now have a Garmin Foretrex. It’s not a gadget that I needed, but it is one that I wanted – and what better time than to obtain frivolous electrical gadgets than on your birthday?

The reason that I didn’t need it is because I already have a Garmin Etrex. The ForeTrex does very little that the Etrex doesn't do, and in fact does nothing extra that I would ever use when out walking. The appeal of the ForeTrex was how much smaller and lighter it is, combined with the fact that it attaches onto the wrist via strap, rather than needing a separate holder (more weight saved). In that for the last few years I’ve only used the GPS to obtain a grid reference, and because for most of the time it gets carried without being used, the smaller model rather appealed to me.

Comparing the two gadgets side by side, I was really amazed at how much smaller the new one is. Having tested it outside of the house, I can confirm that it does exactly as I wanted it to: it tells me where I am. It will become a well-carried item, even if it is seldom used.

I’m also told that there is a pair of Pacerpoles coming my way. Alas, that will make Husband and I ‘his & hers matching’ again, but after suffering a thumb injury back in January (that still hurts some 6 months later) due to the hand grip on my old Leki poles, I recently sold those in anticipation of getting some Pacerpoles. After disproportionate amounts of consideration, I’ve opted for the new carbon fibre ones. I’m hoping that I’ll be sufficiently careful with them not to break them, and thus the weight saving will be worthwhile when they’re attached to my pack.

So, all in all, I’ve been having a rather good day, trying out my new toys and sharing an excellent roast dinner (a big thank you goes out to Husband for cooking it so expertly) with Mother, Ma-in-Law and Gran.

(A small amount of alcohol may also have been imbibed, as a result of which, my fingers aren’t behaving very well on this keyboard – so for any typos that I’ve missed, I apologise!)

How Is It Wednesday Already?

For the first time in far too long (4 weeks at least) we went for a walk on Sunday. Nothing spectacular; in the interests of saving the environment and time, we set out on foot from the house, passing through the village before arriving at the canal.

In all of our pre-K2B outings that involved the canal (of which there were many), we headed south. So it was something of a departure, upon reaching the cut, to head north.

The last time we did that was some five years ago when we first moved here, on which occasion we forgot the map and didn’t notice its absence until we came to leave the canal and set off across country. On that day we found ourselves foundering on rights of way in between gravel pits. Every which way we went, we got cut off within half a mile of where we wanted to be by working pits. We ended up retracing our steps and having a day that was over twice as long as intended.

This outing was somewhat more successful in that we remembered the map, managed to leave the canal at the right place and except for a bit of navigational uncertainty when crossing fields that bore very little resemblance to the boundaries shown on the map, managed to pass successfully through a couple of local hamlets before heading back onto paths with which we were familiar.

Unusually given the weather so far this year, the day was fine and at times verging on warm (and once again I was fooled by the warm weather and surprised by the amount of mud on the ground; will I ever learn that torrential rain for 3 months = mud – even on a sunny day).

Walking back across the estate that lies behind our house (that being estate in the ‘landed gentry’ sense, rather than ‘housing’) the views were impressive under the clear sky. All was well in the world.

I’ve often thought of running this route, but have been put off by the slopey bits (I have a bit of a psychological issue with running on any terrain that isn’t flat or downhill), so on the most significant hill across the estate I decided to see whether I could run up it.

Surprisingly, I could (even if I was gasping by the top). Maybe sometime soon, I’ll go and run (plod?) the whole circuit.

It was nice to get out and stretch the legs, but my goodness how quickly walking fitness is lost. Despite regularly running in the weeks since I’ve last walked, my legs were definitely feeling the efforts of the walking. A short jogette on Monday soon sorted them out.

Terrocs - RIP

After the wet-footed trip in the Rhinogau at the end of May (the weekend of the naked rambler encounter, as it will forever be in my memory), I declared that I was still wholly unconvinced with the Terrocs, but that I would persist with them in the hope that I would at some point get to like them. I intended to try them with waterproof socks before I gave up on them.

During our trip to the Lakes in late June, I found that both of my Terrocs had developed a hole in the inside of the heel cup. With less than150 miles of use, I was rather disappointed by that.

For reasons unknown, I didn’t put them in the bin straight away, and for further reasons unknown I opted to wear them for our walk yesterday.

We had gone less than 2 miles when I realised that the uneven surface on the inside of the heel, caused by the fabric around the hole rucking up, was rubbing against my foot.

A short while later I to be found sitting on a tow-path, applying plasters to my heels.

There’s no point in having a pair of shoes that are chewing up my feet each time I wear them, no matter how comfortable the fit is. So, with under 150 miles of use on them, the Terrocs have been retired.

Next on my list to try is the Saloman XA Pro, which I’ve tried on a couple of times. It’s not as nice a fit as the Terroc, but it’s probably worth a try. However, the non-XCR ones cause me a bit of an issue. Whilst I’m by no means a fashion victim (see http://gayleybird.blogspot.com/2007/03/colour-co-ordination.html), I’m struggling with adding a pair of bright red shoes to my collection of mis-matched colours. Perhaps this is a good time to try out the waterproof trail-shoe option, by getting the much more pleasantly coloured XCR?

Today's Random Thought: Talking of North Yorkshire...

I have been to North Yorks before. I’ve certainly driven through quite a number of times, but only on major routes rather than on little roads through interesting places. It’s not a place that’s ever really grabbed my attention.

Yesterday it became obvious that I’ve just not been to the right places before.

The trip to Settle and back (entirely different routes taken) was a bit of an eye-opener.

The bits of Yorkshire that I’d been exposed to before didn’t cause me to want to go and spent time exploring. Now I’ve added another area onto my list of places that we need to go and explore.

Strange Feet Cause A Visit to N. Yorks

Husband has funny feet. High arches and an over-pronation on his left foot to the extent that it really disturbs me when I’m walking behind him (which is, of course, my natural place) to see how it lands on the ground. Both features of his feet/gait would be fine if they didn’t cause him problems. The most notably problem at the moment is the poorly knee that’s now raised its head three times this year.

So, after a month of enforced rest (not even a short walk, never mind a slow run around the village for him), today we popped up to Settle to see Andrew Stanley (State Registered Podiatrist with a formidable list of letters after his name) at the Rebound Clinic. A long way to go, but with the ‘two birds with one stone’ stay at Ma-in-Law’s in West Yorkshire last night, and having seen so many recommendations for him, it seemed worthwhile.

I certainly want Husband’s feet sorted before next April. Getting a poorly knee or huge ball-of-the-feet blisters on day three really would be a bit of a disaster.

So, having done all the expected stuff on a treadmill and having watched the video back, followed by a bit of waiting for temporary orthotics to be made, Husband is now walking around with something that feels entirely unnatural in his shoes. Hopefully, the unnatural feeling will soon subside as he gets used to them.

With a need to get him accustomed to them (or otherwise to find that they’re not right) before our next big outing in less than a month’s time, we’re off out locally tomorrow for our first walk in a month. What a difference from our K2B training period earlier in the year.

I see that the weather forecast for this locale is obliging with heavy rain being predicted.

LEJOG Route Planning (1)

The route planning has now reached the Scottish Border, which feels like a big milestone.

It also feels like the most interesting, but most difficult, planning is yet to come.

For England/Wales I always had a notion of the route that we would take and the reality has deviated only slightly from that (Cheddar and Bridgwater being two surprise places that I hadn’t expected to incorporate, but I didn’t fancy the traditional route via Glastonbury and Bath). Planning has also been made easier for great swathes of the route so far by incorporating a couple of Long Distance Paths (part of the Offa’s Dyke Path and the Pennine Way).

For Scotland I don’t have any great plan and it’s complicated by my initial starting point of not incorporating any LDPs (bear in mind, however, that I am female and thus am at liberty to change my mind on any point, at any time!).

Off the top of my head, I’d say that I don’t want to go into Edinburgh itself and that we will take the direct route up to the north-west, rather than detouring via the West Highland and Great Glen Ways. That’s not a lot of information to get started with.

I think that there could be a couple of evenings sprawling on the floor with books and maps coming up quite soon.

Which brings me nicely to the subject of route planning and how I’ve gone about it so far …

For Those Who Are Wondering...

Just a quick explanation for the photo below, for the benefit of those people who haven’t seen my discussion about it elsewhere:

A couple of weeks ago, I made the statement that sleeping outside without a tent was a step too far for me.

Continuing my specialism in doing spectacular u-turns (‘for the avoidance of doubt, I will never go backpacking’, ‘for the avoidance of doubt, I will never walk the K2B again’ and that sort of thing), within a week I bought a bivvy bag.

Well, it seemed to be a spectacularly good price, and I had just sold some stuff on ebay…

My first inspection of said item was on the office floor just after picking it up from the sorting office. Fortunately, not many people wander into the office at quarter past seven, so I didn’t have to explain myself, but just in case, I resisted the temptation to crawl inside!

However, without concerns about looking silly on my own living room floor (hmmm, until I posted the photo anyway), I did try it out for spaciousness with a sleeping bag.

And then my mind turned to the subject of tarps and to spending a night on the hills (in good weather and just for one night, I hasten to add) without a tent.

I spent this lunchtime browsing tarps.

Now all I have to do is convince Husband (who is possibly praying that we don’t get any good settled weather this summer) that this is a good idea.

What A Ridiculous Thing To Do!

Testing out the Alpkit Hunka on the living room floor (and you'd barely even notice my expert photo editing!)

Walking vs Harry Potter

I should have gone for a walk today. It feels like weeks since I was last out there getting muddy.

But, I am one of those people who just had to read Harry Potter before anyone started talking about it. With yesterday unavailable for the not inconsiderable task (607 pages this time), I've just spent a whole day reading (and now I can't even utter a word about the outcome, as Husband still has 100-odd pages to go).

Squeezing in a run mid-afternoon (seldom have I run so fast) was my only foray into the outdoors.

In my defence, I walked half way up and half way back down a hill yesterday - with the significant impediment of carrying a different double sized mattress in each direction. But that's a whole different (and entirely uninteresting) subject...

Anquet Maps - Again

Grrrrr.

(translation (close your ears Mother): F’ing Anquet Maps).

More LEJOG printing has been going on tonight. And more waypoints have been spuriously moving themselves. They were definitely in the right place when I plotted the routes. They were in the right place when I last looked at the routes. They were in the right place when I backed up the routes. Suddenly, when I came to print, 30 waypoints from one route had moved themselves onto a different route.

I really didn’t want to have to delete them and plot them again, but that’s precisely what I had to do.

Grrrrr.

Random Thought of the Day

I was driving home from work today, knowing that I had to go for a jogette around the village as soon as I got home. I’d not run since Sunday, and I had go out today if I was going to get my three runs in for this week.

Sometimes I really enjoy a run. Lately it’s been hard to find the time, so I’m doing the shortest distances reasonably possible and finding that it’s just hard work.

The two things that keep me pounding away, even though all too often the thought at the end of each run is ‘that was hard’ rather than ‘wow, that was good’, are that 1) it makes walking up hills easier; and 2) I know that if I stop it’ll be a lot harder to build that fitness back when I start again (which I undoubtedly would).

So, on my drive home, I was cheering myself up with the thought that next year, whilst walking the length of the country, I will have a whole three months without having to run once. It was a very pleasing thought!

Hopefully, I’ll even come back itching to lace up those running shoes again.

Tickle Your Arse With A Feather?

… I said it's particularly nasty weather.

My work/walk balance is completely out of balance. Too much of my time is spent working when I should be walking. So, when I have a spare day (or even half day, if I’m desperate), I like to pop out for a bit of a yomp – quite often over local fields.

This weekend, having a rare day with nothing specific planned, I had two options with what to do with it: I could either go for a walk with Husband, or I could finally go and fit the new sink in Mother’s bathroom. The latter has been outstanding for a despicable length of time (I fitted the new toilet back in January and intended to do the sink not long after).

So, I spent the afternoon a cursing sink design that doesn’t allow a tap spanner (or indeed any spanner) of any design comfortably into the space around the tap nuts – but for once I found myself pleased to be indoors.

Why? Because on this mid-July day, the weather in Mother’s locale was very, very wet. Really – I’m not exaggerating here. It rained a lot.

Now, I wouldn’t call myself a fair weather walker. In fact, I’m sure that if there should ever be a freak drought in the Lake District then all they need to do is call for us – it’s almost guaranteed to start raining the moment that we leave the M6. Rain is definitely a recurring theme on our outings (‘there’s no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing’ I always remind myself).

But, on a day when I could usefully spend time indoors, and thus free up another day (potentially with better weather, or so I will try to kid myself), I felt like I had allocated my time wisely today. The sink is fitted. Next time I have a free day, I will be out and about*.

(*Ma: don’t worry, I’ve not forgotten the new radiator – it is next on my list!)

Setting the Date

I already said how we reached the decision to walk LEJOG. Now for the (slightly heavier) reasons for the timing.

In 2003 my father was diagnosed with cancer. By the time of his diagnosis it had spread throughout his entire body. He died in 2004 aged 59.

My parents had made various plans for their retirement. Clearly, those plans never came to fruition.

My mother’s consistent advice has been to do things whilst I’m young enough (good advice Ma!); not to rely on being able to do them later.

So, taking that good advice, we decided not to wait until retirement to walk the length of the country, but set a date that was (at that time) about 18 months hence – April 2008 - which gave us enough time to save the pennies necessary to both become simultaneously unemployed.

Since setting the date, three other members of my immediate family have been diagnosed with cancer. Being the only person in my immediate blood line that’s currently free of the disease (or at least as far as I know) really brings home even more the need to go and do things that I want to whilst I know that I can. After all, I may not be here in five years’ time – and I’d hate to leave this planet without at least having a good shot at my goal.

So, there you go – that’s how we came to decide to do LEJOG and why we’re doing it now. I doubt that I’ll ever have a good answer to the more fundamental ‘why’?

Why Walk From Land's End to John O'Groats?

The question that Alan Sloman had for me when I met him during his big walk was ‘why?’. An obvious question: ‘why are you going to spend three months walking the length of Britain?’.

It turned out to be a very difficult question to answer. I can say what led us to make the decision to do the walk. I can say what prompted doing it next year. But other than a flippant ‘because I can’t think of a better way to spend three months’, I don’t have a good answer to the ‘why’.

How the plan came about
Two or three years ago (time flies so fast, it may even have been four), the concept of long distance walks was almost alien to me (obviously, I’d heard of people walking LEJOG, but I didn’t think that it was the sort of thing that Ordinary People would do). The notion of me spending months completing a single walk had never even entered my head.

My first awareness of the formal long distance trails came by reading an article about the Appalachian Trail in a book (The Winding Trail) which fell into my hands. It was a single article and was scant on detail, so whilst being interesting, it didn’t make me leap to thinking ‘I could do that’.

Then, thanks to Podcast Bob’s Podcasts, one of Chris Townsend’s ‘Handbooks’ and other articles that I read, I came to know a lot more about the American three – and the idea of undertaking such a long walk really appealed to me.

The only problem that made turning an idea into reality was the ‘America’ bit, which presented me with three problems: 1) trying to arrange the logistics of a walk on a different continent was just too daunting to contemplate – way out of my comfort zone; 2) there are bears and cougars and snakes and other things that may kill you in America – a scary thought for a worrier like me; and 3) the USA does have a little bit of a reputation for being a dangerous place - the thought of having to hitch a ride into towns for re-supply was again a step too far.

Maybe one day I will become a brave person who isn’t daunted by all of these things, but that day seems a long way off.

Then one day (and I can’t recall how it came to pass), I Googled ‘LEJOG Walk’. Suddenly I had realised that I could do a long walk in this country, where logistics, re-supply and wild animals are not so daunting.

The Google results led me to a few diaries of people who had taken on the challenge. By the time I had read the first one I was absolutely certain that this was something that I could do and that I wanted to do.

Fortunately, Husband was just as taken with the idea (big sigh of relief: could have been a bit awkward otherwise!)

The LEJOG plan was born.

Days 5 & 6 in the Lakes

Wednesday morning came around and my first waking thought was that the rain that was hammering on the tent wasn’t expected.

My second thought was that we needed to make a move, and quickly. We had learned on arrival that the road to Wasdale Head was to be closed again at 9am so we needed to be away before then.

It was 8.30am as we left the Wasdale Head road, just as the roadwork trucks were arriving. Phew – just in time.

After taking the long route up to Keswick we had something of a lazy morning, once again doing the drooling-over-gear thing (couldn’t resist a pair of those sunglasses that roll up into a film-style canister; the more dangerous purchase was a copy of Three Peaks, Ten Tors – there’s always the danger that I’ll start to think that walking across Wales in a day is a sensible thing to do).

Keeping up our near-100% record, the C&CC site told us on our arrival that they were too waterlogged to accommodate us, a fact that I challenged in that we stayed there last March when half the site was under water and this March when it was a mud-bath. They did relent and offer us a small pitch in between other tents, but it was a little too cosy for my liking so we high-tailed it up to Castlerigg Farm instead, from where we spent the afternoon pottering around (and reading about ridiculous challenge walks, some of which started sounding a bit too interesting).

Wednesday afternoon also saw our first contact with the outside world. Having been cut off from phone and radio reception for a few days and having not seen a newspaper, we had no idea that parts of the country were in significant trouble under feet of water.

We had certainly been lucky. Okay, we’d seen a bit of rain, but I’ve certainly experienced far worse weather in that area.

Thursday was the last day of our holiday, and there’s not much to say about it. The weather was rather showery and we took a bit of an amble around the valley, in the area between Bassenthwaite and Keswick. All was going well until we were just about half way around the circular route we had devised, then just as Husband was thinking that his knee was better, always a foolhardly line of thought, his leg fell off again. Suddenly he couldn’t bend it at all. And there we were at the furthest point from the car.

Still, I needed a bit of a jog … so off I trotted along the main roads, dodging the cars (most of which refused to give me a wide berth, even on straight sections with nothing coming the other way) to retrieve the car and then to retrieve Husband. It was nearly a plan that went horribly wrong when I set off without liberating the car keys from Husband’s bag – that could have been a bit of a disaster had I not realised so soon.

It was then a quick trip down to the Flock Inn Tea Rooms at Yew Tree Farm in Rosthwaite for tea, lamb stew and a leg of lamb, before we were on our way to Ma-in-Law’s for a couple of days before heading on home to drape tents and sleeping bags around the house.

Day 3 in the Lakes

Having had a sudden surge in visitors (thanks to www.outdoorbloggers.com and walkaboutuk.blogspot.com) I was today reading back through what I’ve written before. What I noticed was that when I started this I managed to be really disciplined with brevity. Somehow lately I’ve slipped back to waffle. I must make a bigger effort.

So, back to last week; last Monday to be precise. The day dawned cold, wet and windy (with a big emphasis on wet). Our plan had been to backpack over to Wasdale, and had we not had a big tent and a car at our disposal, we would have gone ahead with that plan without batting much of an eyelid at the weather. However, this was our summer holiday, we had luxuries with us and thus we declared the day to be a lazy one and postponed our trip to Wasdale until Tuesday.

So, Monday became a day that was filled with reading, lazing and a trip into Ambleside to drool at the gearshops. With remarkable restraint, we left Ambleside without any purchases having been made and went for a drive over to Patterdale (‘going for a drive’ – that’s something that we don’t do; it was quite a novelty).

Tuesday was a fine day, but Husband’s knee was not fine. The walk over to Wasdale was reluctantly abandoned, so instead we packed everything away and headed over Wrynose and Hardknott Passes to reach Wasdale by road.

We have intended to visit Wasdale Head repeatedly over the last 4 years. Somehow, we’ve never quite made it. So, can you believe that on the day we finally got around to it, the road was closed for resurfacing? We arrived at 11am to be told that the road would re-open at 3.30pm for half an hour. Four and a half hours to kill without the ability to walk up hills (although to be precise the poorly knee was just fine going up hills, it’s the downhill that causes the problem).

Of course, we did manage to fill the time, split between a walk in the valley and a sojourn in a pub.

Having surveyed the options, we opted for the NT campsite, and what a fine view of Scafell Pike we had. Indeed, in the settled weather, we had a fine view of all of the tops.

The day was rounded off with the short stroll up to the Inn, which turned out to be what I expect such an Inn to be.

With the midges biting by the time we returned to the tent, we soon battened down the hatches looking forward to the good weather to continue on Wednesday, as forecast.

It’s a pity that forecasts are so often wrong, isn’t it?

To be continued…

Day 2 in the Lakes

Sunday saw something of a slow start to the day.

Having switched campsites by 9am we were soon heading out with our sights set on the Langdale Pikes.

However, walking down the road in the rain (Husband was a little bit too pleased to be out walking in the rain again, but he’s a bit strange like that; he likes running in the rain too), I realised that I had forgotten to pick up any lunch for myself. What more of an excuse does one need to pop into the Sticklebarn for second breakfast?

When we finally got ourselves out onto the hillside, after greasy food was eaten and tea drunk, it was under the still falling rain, but the day was warm so waterproofs were soon dispensed with.

Being mid-morning on a Sunday, solitude was not to be had. Despite the rain, the stone staircase that leads up to Stickle Tarn was a veritable motorway, and so it remained the whole way up to the tarn, which is where we made a swift change to our route plan.

The change wasn't caused by the number of people around; rather it was because (for reasons unknown) the original plan omitted Pavey Ark. We rectified the omission and I was pleased that once we made our way from the popular point of the tarn and up Pavey Ark, we were finally by ourselves.

The solitude didn’t last long. By the time we reached the top there were so many people crammed onto the highest point that we decided not to add our sweaty bodies to the jam, so made do with a bit of ‘oohing’ at the view from a few paces away before heading on over to Harrison Stickle.

We probably didn’t take the most direct route to get there, but it was pleasant all the same. After stopping for a chocolate break on the top (more ‘oohing’ at the views – the cloud was happily very high, notwithstanding the rain) it was time to head on over to Pike of Stickle (again, taking an odd route choice, but this time mainly because I was paying no attention at all as we wandered away from the summit).

My recollection of Pike of Stickle is that it was infested with midges, so our time there was a) limited and b) spent slapping myself around the face. Even the rain that started falling on us every time we reached a summit didn’t deter these pesky midges.

A short while later, with Loft Crag under our belts, we had the option of making the day longer by circling back over towards High Raise to descend via Stake Pass (in retrospect, that may have been the best plan) or just calling a day early and heading straight back down.

We saw the heavy rain heading towards us, considered that we would be better saving ourselves for the next couple of days backpacking and headed on down.

The path that we took down was just as rocky (in the same stone-staircase sort of way) as was the path up, but perhaps a little steeper. Alas, the nature of the path soon disclosed that the pulled ligaments in Husband’s knee (the ones that he originally pulled back in March and then aggravated again in May) are still not fully healed. By the time we reached the valley Husband was hobbling notably, and my right knee was feeling the strain too (hindsight: Stake Pass would have been gentler).

We could only hope that after a night’s rest they would be sufficiently recovered for our trip over to Wasdale on the Monday, although we did acknowledge that we may have to omit the planned detour up Scafell Pike on the way.

To be continued…

The Summer Expedition

A bit of a hiatus in the blog, as we took a bit of a holiday.

It was a bit of a surprise holiday in that on the day of departure we hadn’t firmly decided where to go. The options were:
1. to pop down to Cornwall to do a bit of a recce of some campsites (ie to see whether they exist) that we plan to use on our big walk next year and to check out if some of our route choices look to be feasible; or
2) to pop up to the Lakes for a week of walking up hills that I’ve not walked up since childhood and that Husband has only ever seen from a distance.

The weather forecast didn’t help a decision: both places had equally bad forecasts.

In the event, after a morning spent packing we turned right out of the drive and headed to the Lakes on Saturday afternoon.

A plan was formed on the drive up the M6: we would spend a couple of nights at the NT campsite in Great Langdale, then leave the car there as we walked over to Wasdale, via Scafell Pike, to spend a night, before walking back to Langdale to pick up the car to head over to Keswick to take in Helvellyn and Blencathra.

The first part of the plan didn’t start well when we arrived at Great Langdale to find the site full. Weighing up the options (turning the trip around being the main one) we ummed and arred for a few minutes before opting to go to the campsite at Chapel Stile for the night before heading up to Great Langdale the following morning.

A sharp shower just as we returned from the pub was fortuitous as it sent indoors the big group who were playing music at inconsiderate volume from their car stereo (with the doors open), so a reasonably peaceful night was had.

Sunday would see us taking in our first (and as it happened, last – but that’s a different story) hills of the holiday – but you’ll have to wait for tomorrow for the next instalment.

Anquet Maps - Quirky Thing!

Last year I bought the Anquet version of the OS mapping of Great Britain. Having ummed and arrrred over whether the £125 price tag was worth it, and having since used it extensively, I can now declare that for us it was a worthwhile purchase.

However, the software is not, in my opinion, entirely intuitive to use.

With practice, I seem to have grasped the basics and I've been getting on quite well with it with plotting the LEJOG route, but a few weeks ago I had an incident where a spurious waypoint appeared that made a 10 mile day into something like a 50 mile day. I couldn't find the spurious point to delete it (you follow it so far and then you page down and the tell-tale straight line is no longer there). After running out of ways of solving the problem I went for what must have been the easiest option of deleting the entire day and starting it again. I thought at the time that it must have been my error.

Tonight, Husband plotted a day (his first one!). Having shouted instructions across the room to him, he declared that something had gone awry. Upon inspection it turned out that a point had been added to the previous route section (ie not the one upon which he was working) making a 19 mile day into a 350 mile one. After trying to back-track to delete it for fifteen minutes or so, I again reached the same conclusion that the route section had to be deleted and re-plotted.

One such incident I could put down to operator error. Two similar incidents by different operators and with no evidence of the mystery way point actually existing, I have to surmise is a bug in the software. And very annoying it is too.

So, we've ended today just one small section ahead of where we were two days ago (but, hey, at least we're heading North now!).

LEJOG Planning - How Far South?!

Just looked at the map again and realised that not only does the Langdon Beck to Dufton stage head south west, but it ends the day a whole 3 miles further south than it started.

That's really just feels wrong!

LEJOG Planning - I'm Going the Wrong Way!

As part of my continued LEJOG route planning, I've just plotted the section on the Pennine Way between Langdon Beck and Dufton.

It just doesn't seem right in a walk that is inherently south to north in nature, to be plotting part of the path that heads generally in a south-westerly direction, with the day ending furher south than it started.

But, it does take in High Cup Nick on the way, so hopefully that will make the seeming detour worthwhile.

Inov8 Terrocs - Thoughts So Far

After our two day trip in the Rhinogau a couple of weeks ago, I said that I would talk about my Inov8 Terrocs separately. It's about time that I got around to that - particularly as I've been reminded to do so by the discussion that's been had on the subject of light-weight footwear on the new TGO Magazine forum.

The Innov8 range, particularly the Terroc, has been receiving a lot of attention over the last eighteen months or couple of years, with the general consensus being that they are fantastic shoes. Those people who may be put off by the lack of ankle support are reassured that the support comes from the heel cup not the height of the ankle cuff and those who fear walking for days on end with wet feet are reassured that the water pumps out quickly and within minutes of a dunking your feet feel warm again and soon feel dry.

Indeed, Andy Howell on his blog has said that the water leaves the shoes so effectively that when he comes to a river or stream crossing when wearing his, he just walks on through, saving any need to change footwear or remove socks.

Having read all these rave reviews and the reassurance that walking with wet feet isn't a bad experience, I was definitely sold on the concept.

At the end of August last year, I bought a pair of Terrocs, intending to wear them on the West Highland Way in October. As it went, I didn't get to try them for a while and I didn't get to walk the WHW. Their first real outing was on a very short walk on the hillside behind Barmouth, in pouring rain, back in October (a walk memorable for the fact that I had forgotten my jacket so ended up walking wearing the coat equivalent of a green wellington boot).

I was unconvinced either way after my first outing wearing them. My feet did get wet, but they didn't have continuous dunkings, so they warmed back up pretty quickly; they weren't sloshing around feeling wet the whole time. My feeling was that I needed to have a few more walks over wet terrain and at least a couple of days backpacking in them to decide whether they were for me. I thought that, after my first backpacking trip wearing them, I would have formed a definite opinion either way.

Eight months later the jury is still out. I think that if I wasn't so desperate to like the shoes (the concept of such light weight flexible footwear really appeals to me) I would have given up on them by now.

Back in January I wore them on local walk and spent hours with wet feet. Although my feet were warm for most of the time spent walking, when we stopped for lunch they cooled down and I spent the rest of the walk (fortunately not too long) with very cold feet. I decided that maybe I should reserve the non-waterproof option for warmer weather.

Not learning my lesson, I wore them a couple more times (just a reminder: back in January/February it was jolly wet; all of our local paths were truly waterlogged). When, at the end of February I went back to my boots (which are Brasher Superlites, so are light and flexible in any case), it was a revelation. Walking in my boots was just so much more pleasant! Not only did my feet stay warm and dry for the entire walk, but I didn't have the mud trying to suck my shoe off my foot every step, as I had with the shoes.

Not to be defeated, I continued to wear them through March and April when the paths started drying out, and as the weather became very dry they became my new best friend. Even spending a day walking exclusively on hard surfaces, I didn't get the foot fatigue that I would have expected from wearing my boots. My only grumble was that the heel cup on the right shoe seems to be slightly out of shape (or maybe it's my foot that's out of shape, but I've never had the problem before) causing the outside of the shoe to dig in just under my ankle bone on uneven surfaces.
With my recollection of all of the winter cold/wet feet experiences fading in my memory, I decided to give them a proper test at the end of May when we had planned a two day trip in the Rhinogau. It looked like the ideal test. Not only is the terrain rough and often boggy, but the forecast was for good weather on Saturday (which would hopefully see me maintain comfortable dry feet all day) but for heavy rain on Sunday. I set out on the Saturday braced for having wet feet on the Sunday, but optimistic that I would finally see the light and decree that the shoes were great in the wet too (and if all else failed, at least the wet feet would be limited to one day, with a hot shower and dry socks at the end of it).

Alas, I again came away with mixed opinions. On the Saturday, I remained dry-footed, but in the early part of the day the rough terrain was making me doubt the abilities of the shoe. On reflection, where my right foot was being forced into a twisted position inside of the shoe, the same problem would probably have occurred with a boot (I have a smaller right foot so my right shoe is always too big). But, by the end of the day, which saw me scrambling on some rather fun terrain, the shoes were getting a definite thumbs up for comfort and performance.

The down-side came on the Sunday. After my first period of wading through a marsh, the water didn't pump out of the shoes as quickly as people had described, and although my feet warmed up reasonable quickly once the water did start to leave after their initial dunking, after an hour of walking through boggy land, I had cold wet feet for most of the rest of the day. They probably would have warmed up after a couple of hours, but just as I was feeling warmth seep back in we would set off through another bog and the hint of warmth would be gone with the first shoe-full of water.

When I did finally spend a couple of hours without encountering a water obstacle, my feet did start to feel drier (even though later inspection of the socks proved them to be still waterlogged).
The real downside of all of this cold, wet footedness was that it made me cold. I ended up wearing a ridiculous number of layers; in fact, I ended up wearing all of the clothes that I had with me, and was still cold (even after resorting to stopping for a cup of tea). I'm sure that given warm, dry feet, I would have been much warmer.

But, there was a big plus side: once my shoes were full of water, there was absolutely no point in prancing about, being careful about each footfall, trying to find the firm, dry ground. Once they were wet, it made sense to just wade on through the marshes, which was a strangely liberating experience. Even accidentally stepping straight into a stream upto mid-calf was amusing, which it surely wouldn't have been had it led to a bootful of water.

Although I felt like the shoes lost their lightweight edge when filled with water and despite not being happy about the slow-drain induced cold-footedness, I will perservere yet. I still have more sock options to try (again, I'll talk about that separately, I think that I've waffled enough for the moment). Failing everything else, they're still a great pair of shoes for day walks that don't involve too much water and I will be forced to look at waterproof lined trail shoe options for wet backpacking terrain.

Phew! Hot Water Again.

Not outdoors related, but:

Today I gave Husband the task of visiting a local electrical merchant in his lunchbreak. Upon asking for the specific type of 2A fuse he says that the rather vacant assistant got a case of fuses out, looked through it and said 'haven't got any 2A ... I've got 1.25A'.

It's a bit like asking for a size 5 walking boot, the assitant going away to look before coming back and enthusiastically saying 'We've not got a 5; we've got a 3 or a 7'. What do they expect you to do? Say 'Okay, I'll just lop off my toes and try the 3'?

Husband resisted his urge of saying he'd take two of the 1.25A to join them together, reported back to me and I ordered a pack of ten online (I must be desperate - £2.80 for a pack of 10 fuses, and £5 P&P!!).

In the meantime, Husband managed to liberate a couple of fuses of the right type from the shop floor at work - so we do have hot water whilst waiting for our own to arrive (whereupon I will of course replace the liberated ones).

On the outdoorsy front, I'm just about to return to my Anquet maps to find out where we're going from Grindley Brook. I've almost concluded that we're taking the South Cheshire Way, so now all I have to do is follow it and see what route it takes.

The Good and the Bad of the Weekend

No walking this weekend. I felt the need to stay at home and do some useful things, like point around the top of the chimney where water’s been getting in and do something with the wilderness that is our boundary hedge. Not everything about this weekend was good. Here’s a quick summary of the good and the bad:

The good: My route planning for our LEJOG expedition next year stalled a couple of weeks ago, when I reached Chirk Castle on the Offa’s Dyke Path and decided that the Maelor Way was the most sensible way to head East from there. I finally got around, on Thursday, to phoning Wrexham TIC to mail order the guide book for this 24 mile route. It arrived on Saturday – and what a good book! It’s a little dated, but the detail inside of it appears to be fantastic, with route instructions given in both directions and huge amounts of detail about the things you can expect to see on the way, from trees and plants to wildlife and butterflies, and of course landmarks and buildings of note. The book is very neatly hand-written (in the Wainwright style) and the biggest benefit for me is that the sketch maps, whilst mildly difficult to tally up with the 1:50k OS map on which I am route planning, will be adequate to go alongside the OS maps in order to keep us on the Way. So, for £3.65 (including P&P), we’ve saved the need for 4 off 1:25k maps.

Now that the route planning has reached Grindley Brook, I’ve the decision to make as to whether we follow canals to Prestbury or whether to follow the South Cheshire Way to Mow Cop (which in my head is Cow Mop) and a canal from there. I think that the latter option is winning at the moment.

Bad things: For those people who may be reading this and don’t know me, let me just say that I’m quite a practical person. I’ve re-plumbed a number of houses, I’ve fitted central heating (back when all you had to be was ‘competent’ in order so to do legally; ie before the Building Regs decreed that one could only be competent if one holds certain qualifications and memberships), I’ve re-wired and wired in new circuits (similarly before Building Regs decreed that I could no longer do that). So, the prospect of fitting a room thermostat to our boiler was not a daunting one.

Alas, in a moment of female blondness/stupidity/carelessness, I shorted the circuit, blowing the internal fuse. Sunday afternoon is not a good time to do something like that when you don’t just happen to have a spare in the house. It’s even worse when that combi-boiler is your only source of hot water. Having had a cold shower after my run this afternoon, I don’t know how Paula manages those ice baths! Tomorrow I will be on a mission to get a replacement fuse. Then I will wire the thermostat in and pay a bit more attention this time!

Whilst creating disasters with the boiler, I had a load of washing in the maching. The bedding had been washed so many times before that I felt quite safe putting two cream towels in with the blue and green. I now have green tinged towels. Doh! Two mini-disasters in one afternoon.

But, back to the positive: the lawn is mowed, the hedge is 25% trimmed (it’s a huge hedge!) and the chimney is pointed.