It seems to have been an awfully long time since I last mentioned bicycling and that's because it is. In fact I suspect that I've done less miles this month than I have for a long time. It's not that I've not wanted to go playing out, it's just that other things have taken a priority, a situation that's not been helped by February being a short month. The first weekend I had my “Bob the Builder” hat on helping “Kathryn Stinks” with her bathroom, then “The Lurgy” got me and playing bikes was the last thing on my mind, and then last weekend, well I still wasn't 100% and the allotment was in need of some attention before we get back into the growing season, so I didn't get any miles in then either. I suppose then that it's about time that I did something about that lack of miles, and that something started mid week when I had to divert from my normal place of work for a meeting. Now I could have just gone by car, but where's the fun in that, and the fact that my meeting didn't start until 10:00 made the idea of going by bike even more attractive. The question that no one's asked yet though is, where was your meeting? Well, now you've asked it was at Benson, which just happens to be 35 miles from home, and not only is it 35 miles away, it's up a bloody great big hill too! 35 miles is however only 2 and a half hours of leisurely cycling, which meant that to be there for 10:00 I wouldn't even need to get up any earlier than I normally do. Result! So, whilst all my colleagues drove and spent the first 20 minutes complaining about the traffic and bemoaning the 60 pence toll to cross the Thames at Pangbourne. I went by bike, and arrived refreshed, happy and invigorated. Granted I got a bit damp on the way there and got a puncture too, courtesy of a bit of sharp flint, but neither of those things are a problem, and more importantly I added another 70 miles to the years total and had a great time in doing so. Not a bad start to the week then, and all in works time too! Whilst I was messing about playing bikes in works time I had another of my brilliant ideas too. As you'll see in a minute, the main aim this weekend was the Wylye and Ebble Valley Audax on Sunday, which would normally mean getting in some running miles on Saturday. But, in one of my moments of stupidity I thought, why not get a long run in Friday afternoon instead, leaving Saturday free to catch up on an bit of bike maintenance and a few other jobs. Now, I've played this game before and it's rather hard going, but by combining a run into work with a few miles along the canal in the afternoon, followed by getting the train back home from wherever I end up, it's pretty easy to rack up some good miles. So that's exactly what I did. I dragged myself out of bed early on Friday morning, donned my running kit and head torch and set off for the second time that week for work. I've bored you about my work commute before, so there's no point going over that again. But, 10 miles on a cold and frosty morning, leaving home in the dark and running towards the rising sun is always a treat, and even more so now the mornings are starting to draw out and I get to work in the daylight. Brilliant. A bit of a stretch off and a second breakfast and I'm still sat at my desk ready for work before my colleagues get in, not a bad way to start the day by any stretch of the imagination. A few hours at work and having wrapped up everything I need to do, I'm free to escape for the second part of the days adventure. Running gear back on, laptop closed down for the weekend, phone on silent and it's only 2 miles back down the road to pick the Basingstoke Canal back up at Colt Hill Wharf (Odiham), from where I set off bound for Fleet and hopefully beyond. The big positive in following the canal, apart from its dead flat, well surfaced and remarkably pretty, is that the railway line follows the same route, so there's a station every few miles, which means I can just run until I've had enough and then jump on the train to get back home again. Perfect! I'll admit that it wasn't the nicest of afternoons, being overcast with a couple of heavy showers, but the canal was it's normal beautiful self. It's not a busy stretch of water being a dead end, but there were a couple of maintenance boats plodding up and down, the odd Kayaker and Stand Up Paddle Boarder on the water and plenty of wildlife to keep me distracted. The miles passed easily on the flat, smooth surface and within a couple of hours I'd reached the 11 mile point where there's a handy shop. A bottle of water and a pastry for sustenance and I pushed on for another few miles until I reached Ash where the train station brushes the canal side and provides a handy stopping point. Not only is it a handy point for getting the train home but it works well on the mileage front too, being bang on 16 miles from work, which took the days total to 26 miles. An hours monkeying around waiting for trains and a short walk back from the station and I was back home just as “The Emma” was getting up following a night shift and putting the kettle on. Hows that for perfect timing!
And that little lot brings us nicely on to the weekends main event, the Wylye and Ebble Valley 200Km Audax and a timely reminder that I do indeed know how to ride my bike further than a couple of miles, although judging by Sundays performance, some more practice is definitely in order.
As per usual I took the van down to Denmead on Saturday evening after dropping “The Emma” off at the train station on-route to a leaving party for one of her work colleagues and had a quiet and uneventful night. Sunday morning dawned with a fairly considerable overnight temperature drop and a light frost, which the van heater soon dissipated whilst I sat in bed and had a pre breakfast brew, and by the time I ventured out ready for the days start the sun was shining down from a cloudless sky on a crisp and chilly morning. The lighter mornings made for a very agreeable 07:30 start to the days proceedings and it was nice to be actually starting a ride (and likely to finish it) in daylight for the first time in what seems like ages. Brevet card collected and after the normal stand and stare at each other until some brave soul sets off and everyone else follows we were on our way at bang on 07:30, heading for Winchester via a few lumpy miles through the South Downs National Park. Pretty lumpy those first few miles were too, which set the theme for the day, nothing too steep or long, just endless ups and downs as we made our way through the rolling countryside with the early morning sun slowly burning the frost from the fields and hedgerows and the early morning traffic giving us a wide berth as the early large group of riders slowly broke up as we each settled into our own rhythm and pace. The long steady climb up through the outskirts of Winchester, coupled with the low winter sun soon ensured I’d warmed up nicely and I paused briefly at the top of the climb to shed a few layers, which obviously meant that I was cold again as soon as I set off, but it’s often better (and more pleasant) to be a touch on the chilly side than sweating your bits off! Anyway, I wasn’t going to be cold for long as the rolling terrain continued as I made my way towards the first stop of the day at Cholderton Rare Breeds Farm via Stockbridge. With just over 40 miles done Cholderton seemed like an ideal place to grab a cup of tea along with the required proof of passage stamp and I joined the short queue of fellow cyclists who had arrived shortly before me. 10 minutes later I’d moved one place further down the queue whilst those in front ordered weird and wonderful coffee’s, at which point I gave up, stamped my own card and moved on. I’m not normally impatient but all I want is some hot water with a tea bag in it, not the moon on a stick!
Pushing on, the rolling terrain continued as I made my way along familiar roads to the North of Salisbury before picking up the flatter and faster stretch of road that runs alongside the River Wylye. At Wylye itself we turned left to head out of the valley and that’s where the climbing really seemed to start for the day. Some nice railway workers, busy replacing a level crossing, took pity on me and allowed me through their worksite instead of following the signed diversion but I soon started to wish that maybe they hadn’t as the road climbed endlessly steeply upwards.
Lowest gear and keep spinning the pedals, it’ll be worth the effort for the view from the top! Slowly and surely the top arrived, to be followed instantly by a steep descent, and another climb, and another steep descent, and, well I’m sure you get the idea. The next few miles were a bit of a slog as I made my way through the pretty sounding and beautiful villages of Dinton, Bowerchalke and Sixpenny Handley, before eventually arriving, tired, hot and sweaty at the next control at Cranborne garden centre where a much needed brew and slice of amazing cake provided the opportunity to rest sore muscles for a few minutes and some much needed sustenance. With mixed emotions I left Cranbourne and headed towards the New Forest. Mixed emotions because I knew what was still to come, a real slog of a climb, with associated headwind on the way out of Fordingbridge across open moorland, but at the same time, open views, wild ponies, well surfaced roads and the beauty of both the open areas and quiet forested roads. If it was easy everyone would be doing it, but the last leg was a real struggle, both mentally and physically as I pushed slowly back towards the start. The headwind across the endless uphill slog from Fordingbridge towards Bramshaw was as tiring as expected, but on the same hand the endless views across the open moor’s were as picturesque as I remembered from my last excursion into this area. The roads through the forest were as undulating as I remembered, but the wild ponies and cattle which inhabit this area provided more than enough of a diversion for my tired mind and legs. Leaving the New Forest behind it became a case of mind over matter as the route endlessly rolled along for the final miles. Never steep enough to cause major problems, but at the same time never flat enough for easy miles. By 16:00 with the afternoon drawing on the temperature had dropped significantly, and I paused my progress to put back on those layers that I had shed earlier in the day and grab a sandwich from my saddle bag. Layers which were still damp and clammy from the morning’s exertions, which initially did little to warm me back up. A situation which was soon remedied once I got moving again. Warm and revived by that sandwich (and maybe a chocolate bar too) it was just a case of pushing out those final few miles back to the finish. Miles which came slowly and required more effort than they should have on tired legs. But miles which none the less were eventually dispatched, and as hoped for I got back to the van before darkness descended. 129 miles to add to the years tally in pretty much exactly 10 hours. I’ll happily admit though that it was a hard day out, significantly harder than I thought it should have been. The endless ups and downs played havoc with my mind, the steep climbs sapped the strength from my legs and the cold wind drained my spirit through the New Forest. But, I’m not complaining as I still had a great day out, and it’s a route that I’ll happily come back and do again, although maybe I’ll wait until it warms up a bit first!
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Hopefully you will all be pleased to know that I’ve survived my brush with death courtesy of the "Lurgy" last week and I’m still alive. OK, so I exaggerate a bit, but I’m not ill very often, so I’m not very good at it, plus I’m a man so even a sniffle puts me at deaths door.
I’ll admit that it did take the wind out of my sails though, and I had to have a couple of days off work at the start of last week. When I did go back in on Wednesday I still didn’t feel strong enough to cycle in, so I drove, neatly spoiling my run of cycling or running to work every day for nearly 2 years! By Thursday I was back on the bike though and I even managed a short run Friday lunchtime in addition to cycling into work and back, so I must have been feeling better. Saturday I had planned on getting out for a few bike miles in the morning, but having listened to the wind howling round the house for most of the night and been greeted by some pretty ferocious wind when I got up, I decided that maybe I needed another recovery day to fully get over my weakened state. So I went to the allotment instead, where I spent most of the day pottering around cutting back the hedge that borders my plot and generally tidying up. Whilst it might not have been the most productive of days they were all jobs which needed doing and it puts me one step closer to being ready for the start of the new growing season in a few weeks’ time (which reminds me that I must get my backside in gear and get my seed order in). With the forecast looking significantly better for Sunday, I decided that I was going to have to make better use of my time, and with the small matter of the missed Punchbowl Marathon and my ongoing Marathon a Month attempt to keep on top of I decided that I’d head down that way and see how well recovered I actually was and look at getting in some proper miles. To that end I headed down to Elstead after tea on Saturday night for a cosy night in the van, ready for an early start on Sunday morning, the plan being to make the most of the promised weather and run what I could of the Punchbowl Marathon route, all be it a week late!
Sunday dawned bright and dry with no real wind and I was out picking up the planned route just before 08:00. With our friends at the LDWA keeping things fresh and interesting there had been a few route changes since last years event and after crossing the River Wey for the first time as I left Elstead there was plenty to keep me occupied as I made my way anti clockwise around the route heading towards Tilford.
Although I wasn’t feeling particularly strong, the sun was shining brightly from a near cloudless sky, the day was warm and still and with the birds singing, the snowdrops brightening the banks and hedgerows, and the squirrels searching for their cached supplies in the sandy soil alongside the route I was having a great morning and making steady, if slow, progress.
Plodding steadily on in the early morning sun I soon reached the 10 mile mark, signifying a 1/3rd of the days planned distance, but I wasn’t feeling as strong as I should have at this point and it was becoming clear, even at this early stage, that I wasn’t likely to be able to run the full distance.
A chocolate bar and brief pause just outside of Tilford whilst I investigated a small cave and some Second World War gun emplacements helped and provided a welcome distraction, but my mind was already considering my options, and as we've seen plenty of times before, when the mental game is lost then so is the day! Tilford came and went, along with the 13 mile mark for the day, and whilst slowing I was still running, all be it slowly, but my mind and body just wasn’t in it. I was still tired and lethargic from my recent brush with sickness and maybe I was trying to do too much too soon. But, most importantly, the sun was still shining and I was still enjoying myself. Reconsidering my options, I came to an agreement with myself that if I could carry on running to Frensham Common with it’s pretty ponds and sailing boats at the 16 mile mark, then I’d slow down and just walk the remainder. Granted it would be a long walk, but it was a nice day and as I said above, I was still enjoying myself.
Arriving at Frensham Common I knew the game was up for the day! My mind had fully bought into the idea of plan B and there was no point in trying to convince it otherwise. Slowing to a walk I spent a few minutes watching the boats on the clear blue water and getting some calories on board, before pulling on my jacket and long trousers which I’d sensibly packed for just such an occasion and heading off again at walking pace.
Walking alongside the pond as I made my way steadily onwards it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I pushed on with a newfound spring in my step. With no requirement to watch my footing quite so closely and the navigation easier at walking pace there was more time to look around. With my head up and jacket undone enjoying the warmth of the day, I started noticing the little things that you miss, or certainly pay no attention to, when your running. The old couple with a full loaf of bread feeding the ducks next to the large sign saying “Don’t feed the ducks bread it’s bad for them”, the young couple walking slowly hand in hand in the winter sun, the families out for a Sunday morning stroll, dogs and kids in tow, building up an appetite for Sunday lunch in a local hostilely, the birds signing from the tree tops, last summer’s leaves, now discarded by the trees, crunching underfoot as you progress and the thousand and one other things that your aware of, but pay no notice to when you pushing on. Plodding slowly on I stopped briefly at the 20-mile mark and sat on a fallen tree eating a sandwich from my pack. Not the traditional eat on the move approach of the marathon runner, but the slower, more thoughtful approach of the long-distance walker. Why eat on the move when you can stop, take the weight off your feet for a few minutes and take in the glory that surrounds you. I’m no longer chasing the clock or trying to convince my mind and body to keep going, I’m just enjoying being outside in the sunshine!
As I progressed the miles came slowly at walking pace, and as I stood atop Kettlebury Hilll, looking over the MOD training area where some Army manoeuvres were in full swing, I again considered my options. There was an ideal point coming up to cut a few miles out of the planned route and avoid the stiff climb up to The Devils Punchbowl. It’s a part of the route I’ve covered plenty of times before, and did I really need the extra miles of walking? No, I think not!
Decision made then, I diverted off the planned route and picked up a road section for half a mile or so, effectively cutting 4 miles off the day’s total. Sometimes I feel bad about changing my plans, it doesn't always seem to sit right in my mind, but at the same time, sometimes, adapting allows me to still have a good day out without hurting myself or suffering unnecessarily and at the end of the day, it’s all about having fun, not punishing yourself for a change of plan or a failure! My little diversion worked a treat too. As I covered the final couple of miles back to the van, I watched the distance slowly increase on my watch until it ticked over the 26 mile mark as I came down the final hill. If that wasn’t meant to be then I don’t know what was! 26 Miles in just over 6 hours than. Incredibly slow by my normal standards, but most importantly I’d had a good day, my legs still felt good, and I’d still enjoyed myself, walk or not. I can’t win every run I go out on and sometimes, acknowledging that it’s not a good day and changing your plans is the best thing to do. Give it a few more days and I’ll feel better, I’ll feel stronger and at some point, I’ll come back and run the full distance, but for today, I’m happy with that, and in my book that's all that matters! Dependant on your point of view, it's either good news this week or bad. The bad news is that for the first time in as long as I can remember I'm not well. I've had the odd cough and cold or headache, but I honestly think that the last time I felt this rough, for this long, was back in 2001 or 2. The worse thing is I don't really know what's wrong with me! Well, actually that's not quite true, I know exactly what's wrong (my insides have decided that they want to be outside), but I don't know why. When I got in on Tuesday "The Emma" said she wasn't feeling too good, which as I felt fine and she was better again by the next day we just put down to something that she'd eaten and thought noting more about. Thursday morning I was fine, I cycled into work and went to circuits at lunchtime, but by 14:00 started to feel rough myself. I struggled home on my bike and went straight to bed, which is pretty much where I've been ever since! Friday I couldn't even keep my eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time. Saturday afternoon I felt a bit better and ventured outside to tidy up the workshop, but was back asleep on the living room floor again an hour later, and today, well, whilst I feel a bit better than I did, I still feel like death warmed up. And the good news? Well, as I've done nothing but sleep all weekend, your not going to have to spend half your morning reading a load of old drivel about my weekend! So that's it for this week, nothing to report, which is annoying as I should have been on the start line for the Punchbowl Marathon today, but instead I'm sat here, feeling sorry for myself. In fact the only thing worth sharing from this week is a couple of pictures from my run to work earlier in the week. With the sun shining on the way home the first of the Snowdrops have made an appearance, brightening up the hedgerows and providing a glimpse of what's to come, and clear skies made for a cold run in again the next morning. You know it's cold when your gloves get frost on them and your water bottles freeze! But that's it for this week. Hopefully I'll be back to full strength again by next weekend and normal service can resume, and if not? Well, I'm not very good at being poorly so we had best hope I'm better. It’s going to be a short and sweet one this week folks, mainly because I haven’t done anything worth talking about. That’s not to say that I’ve been sat around doing nothing, in fact the exact opposite is true, it’s just that what I have been doing isn’t very interesting. I’ve actually spent the weekend stuck in a 2-meter square room with a frosted glass window so I couldn’t even see out whilst working my little fingers off, and before anyone suggests it, no “The Emma” hasn’t had me certified and locked up for my own good! What I’ve actually been doing is replacing a bathroom for my sister, (that’s “Kathryn Stinks” not “the one that forgot she’s got a brother”) and whilst I started off with great expectations of getting loads of pictures for you all to look at, what actually happened is things rapidly went downhill, the easy job we’d planned for turned into a bit of a nightmare, and taking pictures was the last thing on my mind! If I’m honest I’m not even sure how I got suckered into this little escapade. I seem to think it started with a simple “how easy is it to change a bath” text message question. To which I obviously replied with “It’s a bloody nightmare, don’t even think about it!” Anyhow, roll on a few weeks and my stance softened slightly when it transpired that the question wasn’t a vanity project but a real issue. You see some previous lunatic had decided that a P shaped bath would be a brilliant idea in a room less than 6ft wide. However, clearly not satisfied with that bit of stupidity. They had then fitted the taps to the side you get in from, meaning that not only could you not fit a shower screen to the stupidly shaped bath, which also took up most of the room, but you clattered your toes or shins on the taps every time you got in the bath. Brilliant! It may have looked great in the showroom with loads of space all around it, but in reality, ridiculous. As per usual though, just changing the bath isn’t that simple. Not only were all the water and waste pipes now in the wrong position, but the black tiled floor which had been fitted with the stupidly shaped bath, only went to the edge of the bath, meaning that would have to be replaced too! And if you’re taking the floor up, then the toilet and sink have to come out as well. So, you might as well just start again from scratch. A few more messages, a couple of video calls so I could actually see what we were talking about, and somehow, I’d agreed to provide my limited expertise, provided “Kathryn Stinks” provided the labour and kept up an endless supply of brews. Obviously smashing stuff up is the best part of any job, and despite the multiple layers of Silicone sealant that had been used to hold everything together (why use screws or proper fasteners when you can just stick the toilet down with a whole tube of silicone), we had the room stripped out within a couple of hours on Friday afternoon. Leaving time to fit a replacement false floor to take out the uneven floorboards, and struggle with fitting the new lino (cushion flooring) before bedtime. After a good night’s sleep, an early start, and a trip round the DIY shops in the van to collect the new toilet etc, Saturday turned out to be somewhat frustrating. Putting it back together should be the easy bit, but everything we touched turned into a nightmare. For a start, two of the newly soldered pipe fittings leaked as soon as we turned the water back on, a problem I’ve never had before. Then, having remade and re-soldered all the pipe runs, everything else insisted on leaking. The sink U bend wouldn’t fit the new sink and having acquired a replacement it then wouldn’t seal. The toilet cistern attachment bolts insisted on dripping despite having been resealed numerous times and the bath was a bugger to get into position and even once in place continued to put up a fight with getting the waste pipe to line up in the new position. Oh, and have I mentioned having to spend 30 minutes scraping solidified toilet waste off the outlet connection to allow it to seal correctly on the new pan? No, I thought not! After much swearing, sweating and general frustration, by Saturday night we eventually got to a position where the suite was back in and leak free and the floor, complete with replacement skirting boards was finished. I’ll admit that It had been a long and tiring day and may have involved the odd sense of humour failure! However, with little steps we were getting somewhere and we knocked it on the head at about 20:00 on Saturday evening just about able to see a light at the end of the tunnel.
An early start was required Sunday morning if we had any chance of getting finished and to that end, we were back at it for 07:30. In an attempt to make our lives easy and give us any chance of completing such a task in 2 days "Shower panels" were used for the walls. Supplied in 2.4 x 1m sheets it’s just a case of cutting it to size and sticking it to the walls. Far quicker and easier than tiling, and being large, sealed sheets, it shouldn’t allow any water to penetrate into the walls. This was a real-life saver, and brilliant decision, in fact I’d go as far as saying that there was no way we could have done what we did in the timeframe without, as despite multiple trips up and down the stairs as we cut the panels to size and test fitted them by early afternoon we had the 3 bath walls sheeted and watertight, something that would have been impossible with tiles. How well it will wear I’ve no idea, but for a quick, well priced option, it seems ideal. Which just left us to sort out the plumbing for the new shower, fit the new shower, fit the shower screen, bath front, toilet seat and cistern lid, seal all the edges and tidy up. Simples hey! And in fact, after Saturday’s tribulations it wasn’t too bad, and we made some excellent progress. By 17:00 we were wrapping up and working round the room with the sealant gun, and shortly after 18:00 I was back in the van, heading for home. I’m not going to pretend for one second that it was an easy job, in fact I’ll happily admit that it was a nightmare. My knees are sore, my wrists hurt, and my fingers are covered in little cuts. Working in a restricted space is twice as hard as working with plenty of room and doubly frustrating. But, standing back on Sunday evening and looking at what we had achieved in such a short timeframe, I’m pretty certain that I can speak for both of us and say that we were stood there with a sense of self satisfaction and mutual admiration for a job well done. It’s not very often that I get to spend any time with Kathryn and her tribe, and whilst we had a few stressful moments on Saturday afternoon, it was a really pleasurable experience, and one which I’d be happy to repeat (just not for a while, as I’m getting too old for this game). I’ll confess that due to a lack of time, it’s not quite to my normal standard of workmanship, but it’s one that I’m still proud to put my name too and as good, if not better, than a lot of professional jobs I’ve been witness too. And if it’s helped out and made their life just a little bit better in the long run then it was well worth doing. I must say that “Kathyn Stinks” is a real grafter who’s willing to put in the time to learn and have a go at anything. Like me if she doesn’t know how to do something she’ll find out and have a go, without any expectation that someone else will do it for her, and people like that are an absolute pleasure to help. I’ve also got to give credit where it’s due to both her kid’s, who gave her the space to crack on and get involved and to James, who whilst being the first to admit that he’s not mechanically minded, must have made at least 500 brews over those 2 days and kept me fed for the whole time. And as we all know, an army marches on its stomach. Teamwork makes the dream work as they say, and that was a real team effort! All that she’s got left to do now is a bit of decorating and put the skills and confidence she gained this weekend to test in their next project. |
Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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