Here we go again then, the start of another year and the chance to wipe the slate clean and start all over again. Again! Being as we are starting again I suppose the first order of business needs to be wrapping up last year's achievements and whilst I will eventually get around to updating my reminiscing pages to reflect 2022’s happenings, it won't do any harm to just have a quick run through here will it. So in no particular order in 2022 I:
That's not all though, because:
And whilst doing that little lot I spent 57 nights away in the van, which I think fully justifies its expense, and a further 8 nights bivvying out (which is nowhere near enough). Personally, I think that’s pretty good going, especially as I’m not exactly in the prime of youth, and probably explains why I have difficulties keeping my eyes open in the evenings. To be honest, I think it’s going to be pretty hard to get anywhere near those numbers again, but we'll see how 2023 goes, and I’ve certainly got plenty of things in the pipeline, so I guess that we'll just see what happens as the year progresses and go from there. Right then, that’s enough about last year, life's all about looking forwards not back, so let's get on with 2023, and to that end there’s only one way to start a new year off and that’s with the Knacker Cracker! The Knacker Cracker’s become a bit of a New Year's Day tradition for me, although I missed last year due to the Covid Kerfuffle (and that’s missed in both senses of the word (didn’t attend and missed attending)). Missed opportunities aside, it’s a brilliant little run and by my normal standards it is little (10Km). But what it lacks in distance, it more than makes up for in stupidity. It’s always muddy, the majority of the route seems to be either vertical ascent or descent, much of which is so steep that the muddy paths have been replaced with uneven sized muddy steps, and most importantly there’s always a strong turnout of fancy dress. Now what’s not to like about that I ask you? And what a brilliant way to start a new year, muddy running stupidity. Brilliant! Having dug out my Minion costume and trail shoes from the depths of the wardrobe the night before, the late start time (11:00) left plenty of time for a leisurely breakfast and a relaxed drive down to the start. Not that I’d been partying on New Years Eve. I was actually in bed just after 10 having struggled to keep my eyes open that long. I suppose that's what spending the 4 previous days on your bike does for you! I’ve said it before and I’ll no doubt say it again, it’s a glamorous life I lead! Arriving in plenty of time, I picked up my number and joined the other runners milling around waiting for the off. But before we could depart there was the small matter of getting to the start. Previously the start point has been at the top of Box Hill, however the National trust which owns the land has since decided not to allow the use of their car park and as such alternative arrangements have been made, necessitating a short walk to the start. It’s not every day that you get to enjoy the sight of a couple of hundred runners proceeding up the edge of the A24 dressed as Nuns, Minions, Father Christmas’s, Pirates, Wizards and a hundred other silly things, so it’s certainly not the end of the world. Arriving at what should have been our departure point, a further detour was required to alternative start point B. I can think of no better way to explain the reason for this diversion than the words used by the organiser who announced that plan B was being put into action due to “The bridge to get to the start being testicle deep in water” which I think pretty much sums up the spirit of the whole day. Reaching the new start point, a quick briefing covered the alternative routing, ensuring we all knew where we were going (well, some people did), followed by a rousing rendition of the national anthem and we were on our way. On our way slowly, that is, as the first half mile or so took us from the bottom of Box Hilll to the top, up a steep narrow path. Wave to the camera drone on the way past, squeeze past the Nun and fall in for a few steps behind the mexican band, acknowledge the piper complete with kilt whos doing his best to squeeze the life out of his bagpipes (he’s really good really) and crest the hill. Straight over the road for a flatter section, where I gain a few places, passing a christmas present, a wizard complete with long flowing beard and staff, and then get passed myself by 2 top gun pilots. See I told you this was fun! And so it goes on for 10 Km along muddy, rutted tracks. Families out for their new years day walk offer words of encouragement as you pass, their children busy identifying their favorite characters from the multitude of fancy dress costumes, and fellow runners offer their own encouragement as you pass, or cross paths, on the multiple overlapping points. A return to the Piper, now at the lookout point atop the hill, signifies that the day's work is nearly done and offers superb views over Dorking and the surrounding countryside. Just once more down the hill and back up again and we're done. This ones a hard one though with uneven steps cut into the hillside all the way down and back up again. Legs tiring from the effort and with short sharp breaths, it’s a case of head down and climb those steps. Big step, little step, run a few feet, clamber over some tree roots and a few more uneven steps, I’m working my way back up the hill though and there’s not much further to go now. One final push and the ends in sight. Over the line in 58 minutes, a long way off the winning time of 41, but todays not about winning as far as I’m concerned, in fact it’s not even about trying, it's all about having fun and enjoying the day, and enjoy it I most certainly did. Roll on next year is all I’ve got to add, because the Knacker Cracker is certainly the best way to welcome in the new year as far as I’m concerned! In other news and I might have mentioned it a few times in the last couple of weeks, we seem to have had a bit of rain recently. I’ve obviously wittered on today about the bridge to the start at the Knacker Cracker being testicle deep in flood water, and you might have noticed that I mentioned getting wet a few times in my post about the The Full Fat Festive 500. But, even I didn’t realise quite how much rain we have had in the last couple of weeks until I noticed the bucket in the garden, which I know for a fact was empty (because I used it) on the 18th December, which has now got 5” of water in it, (that's 127mm for you metric fans), and it’s still raining as I sit here writing this today! I guess that after the long dry summer we undoubtedly need the rain to refill all the reservoirs etc, but 5” in 15 days, that’s quite a bit of rain!. Just before I go and just to prove that occasionally I do finish what I started and do occasionally do other stuff apart from “playing out” as “The Emma” refers to my running and cycling activities.
Over the Christmas period I’ve finally got around to slapping some paint on the shoe rack which I made back in September and personally, I think it’s turned out ok for the efforts of a talentless buffoon! As they say, you can't rush these things. Oh, and I can confirm that I still hate painting!
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Well, Summer seems to be over again, or at least situation normal has resumed, with the temperature returning to something approaching normality. Without wishing to tempt fate, we still haven’t had any real rain of note for a long time, and everything is looking pretty dry and parched, including the allotment, which has resulted in lots of lugging watering cans around. Everything seems to have doubled in size in the last few weeks in the summer sun though, so it can’t be a bad thing.
We can’t really complain about the weather though, although I suspect that having been nice for the last couple of months, that’s all going to come to a crashing change in a couple of weeks when I’m off work! So, apart from the weather, what are we going to talk about this week then? Well, you’ll all be pleased to know that it was my birthday on Sunday, and we can’t let such a momentous occasion pass without fanfare can we. How to celebrate such an occasion as my 50th then? Party? Weekend away? Hibernate? Pub? Sit on the sofa eating biscuits and watching TV? No. I had a far stupider idea! When I was running home a couple of weeks ago, it dawned on me that I could do 50KM run in recognition of my 50th. Then I thought, that’s not too big a challenge, how about adding another 500Km on the bike onto it and make a weekend of it? And then I realised that if I did a 50K run, by adding in a run to work and back in the same week, I’d have 50 miles of running through the week, a stand-alone 50 Km run and the ubiquitous 500Km on the bike, giving me all the 50’s on my 50th. How’s that for a stupid idea? Stupid idea or not, the seed was firmly planted in my mind. The first minor hurdle to overcome was the two runs to work to get the necessary miles in for the running stint. Nothing to serious there, it’s something that I do every week, so it shouldn’t be a problem, and to be honest it wasn’t, except for one small detail. The only option was to run home Tuesday and back in on Wednesday morning, and if you cast your mind back a few days, Tuesday was officially the hottest day ever, and I just happen to finish work at 16:00, when the day was at it’s hottest. I’ll confess that sat at work, I very nearly changed my mind and discarded the whole stupid idea, but in for a penny, in for a pound, I finally plucked up the courage to get out there. Cramming as much extra water into my backpack as possible and switching my routes around to make as much use as possible from every bit of available shade, I took an easy plod home, and to be honest it wasn’t as bad as I’d been expecting. Yes, it was hot, yes it was a stupid idea, and yes it was hard work, but it wasn’t that bad, and it got me the first 10 miles for the planned 50. Back to work on Wednesday morning for the next 10 then. Even when I set off at 05:45 it wasn’t much cooler than it had been the day before, in fact it was probably worse, as the humidity had climbed considerably. But, again, by taking it easy and plodding it out at a steady pace, I had another 10 miles in the bag and a full 24 hours recovery time before the next stint. Which was lucky, because my legs didn’t seem to appreciate the effort and were rapidly starting to say, “what’s the point of all this”? Next up then, 50Km (31 miles), for which I’d stuck a cheeky days leave in for Thursday. With the temperature still pretty high and the forecast for another hot and humid day, an early start seemed sensible, and I dragged myself out of bed at an unreasonable hour for a day off, hobbled down the stairs on stiff and unwilling legs, and generally felt sorry for myself for a few minutes until I woke up properly and remembered that this is supposed to be fun! Making the most of the cooler morning air, I was leaving the house just as “The Emma” got in from her nightshift at 06:15, heading for the Basingstoke Canal. Now, I’ll have mentioned before that I’m not a massive fan of canal towpath running. It’s too flat, there’s nothing to look at except more path and canal, and the path tends to be hard packed, battering your feet after a while. For today’s purposes though, it was ideal, flat, fast, loads of shops along the way to keep the water topped up and provide tasty treats, and more importantly, it follows the main train line, so all I had to do was follow the path until I’d got the required mileage and then hop on the train back home again – Simples! And simples, it was. In fact, there’s not much to say that I haven’t said before. The miles ticked steadily along, the canal was as beautiful, picturesque, dull and boring as it always is, and despite the temperature being somewhat on the high side, by taking it slow and steady it was an uneventful run. Or as uneventful as 32 miles can be! So uneventful, that by 12:00 I’d covered the required mileage and was sat at the train station waiting for the train and by 13:00 was back in Basingstoke, where “The Emma” kindly picked me up from the station, saving me the walk home (well, she actually wanted a lift herself, so killed 2 birds with 1 stone and having picked me up, I in turn dropped her off (teamwork makes the dream work as we say)). Thursday afternoon and that’s a 50 km run plus 50 miles of running for the week knocked off (50Km = 32 miles plus 2x 10 Mile work commutes), leaving plenty of time to sort out my bike and kit and get an early night ready for the weekend’s adventures.
Unfortunately, I had a work commitment Friday morning, so I couldn’t extend my weekend. However, a lunchtime finish beckoned, and having loaded my bike Thursday night, the ride into work did wonders for freeing off my stiff, tired legs, (and those few hours of clock watching gave them ample time to stiffen up again), before I managed to escape for the weekend!
Out of work by 12:00 I was off, the plan being to head towards Exmouth, before turning back for home, which should equate to 500km (310 miles) if my calculations were correct. This wasn’t supposed to be a slog fest though, it was my birthday after all, and even before I set off, I was happy that if I wasn’t feeling it, I’d cut it short. To which end the route I’d planned crossed over itself a few times in a large figure of 8 and had plenty of options to just cut across and pick up the return route if required. I’d just see how I felt and go from there!
Familiar roads for the first couple of hours made for some easy riding, and the miles fairly flew by as I made my way steadily Eastwards. First to Winchester and then Salisbury where the first stop of the afternoon beckoned in the form of a water resupply and doughnut break. Hunger pangs diverted for a short while, I braved the Friday afternoon traffic to pick my way through the madness that is the Salisbury ring road and eventually popped safely out the other side, picking up where I left off with more pleasant rural roads as I continued Eastwards, chasing the afternoon sun.
Steadily progressing as tea time drew closer, the weather gods decided to play their trump card and after weeks of sweltering under a blazing sun, the first spots of rain landed on the road ahead, accompanied by that familiar smell of rain on hot tarmac that accompanies a summer shower. Spotting some overhanging trees I pulled over and huddled under their protective canopy, trying to stay out of the worst of the rain as the first few spots turned into a heavy summer downpour. Eventually the weight of rain overcame the tree canopy which formed my protective shelter, and as the downpour eased slightly, I decided that I'd better man up and get wet or I was likely to be stood there for a long while. Within 30 minutes the summer had returned and by the time I arrived in Gillingham, I'd pretty much dried out, which was lucky as I didn't have a waterproof coat with me, and I'd have been in for a miserable few hours if the rain hadn't stopped when it did (that will teach me. Or maybe not).
Leaving Gillingham just before 18:00, I had my sights set on Sherbourne as my final destination for the day. My plan being to get some tea there, resupply for the night, then find somewhere just the other side to put the hammock up and get some sleep.
And a reasonable plan it was too as I made good time arriving by 20:00, which left what should have been plenty of time to get something to eat and find a nice spot for the night before it got dark. Replenish the biscuit supply in preparation for a bedtime treat, top up the water bottles ready for a morning brew, and push on through the other side of Sherbourne, safe in the knowledge that I'd be tucked up in bed in 30 minutes. Or maybe not! Normally, once your off the beaten track, there's loads of little hideaways, perfectly sized and almost designed for popping up a hammock and whiling the night away. Today though, nothing, nadda, nichts, nowt, not a single suitable spot anywhere to be seen, and I'm not picky. Mile after mile of nothing, no more than a single tree at any one time, and that's not a lot of good for a hammock that's for sure. With darkness rapidly descending I was starting to get a bit desperate and was beginning to think that it was going to be a cold night on the floor wrapped in my tarp. 21:00 came and went, followed soon after by 21:30, when eventually, with 118 miles covered for the day, I spotted a footpath that looked promising. Dismounting I pushed the bike up the path for a few meters and there it was, not the best spot, but two trees just far enough apart to get the hammock up. That'll have to do, I was too tired to go on, and being fully dark by this point it was well past bedtime!
If there's one thing a long day in the saddle guarantees, it's a good nights sleep, and despite my less than salubrious location I slept well, only awakening as the sun penetrated the trees around me. Waking me as we did for a millennia before the advent of alarm clocks with it's warming rays and gentle dawn light.
Waking up with the dawn has a magical feel to it and as I got a brew on and then sat, swaying contentedly in my hammock, there was nowhere that I'd rather be. It's not all about enjoying myself though and today was going to be a big day, not only mileage wise but hilly too, and if I was going to stay on track then I needed to get going. To that end I was on the road just after 6 warming up stiff legs and admiring the scenery around me, bathed in the soft early morning light, on what showed promising signs of being another nice day. With the miles ticking happily along, I was just starting to think about stopping for a brew and second breakfast when fate intervened and I rounded a corner to come upon the rear end of a pack of hounds accompanied by a couple of horse riders out for their morning exercise, totally blocking the road. Slowing to avoid startling them, I was just considering my next move when low and behold what should appear but a perfectly placed bench, complete with stunning view over the surrounding countryside. Well that wasn't a hard decision to make, seat, view, blocked road, best stop and get the kettle on, timing doesn't get much better than that!
Refreshed and revitalised I pushed on, heading slowly towards the coast and as the miles built slowly the landscape changed. Flat, open, arable fields, slowly replaced by small, neat, fields of lush green grass, heralding a change in terrain as the flatlands gave way to the steep sided valleys that Devon is renowned for.
By late morning I was sweating my way up the incredibly steep climb out of Sidmouth, far to steep to ride I was reduced to walking and even that was nigh on impossible. A dozen paces forward, pushing hard on the handlebars to propel the weight of the bike up the incline, then pause to get my breath back and repeat multiple times, as I inched my way slowly skywards, a situation that would be repeated many times as the day progressed as I slowly traversed this beautiful part of the country. Eventually though, with the smell of the sea filling my nostrils and a strong sea breeze keeping the temperature down I crested the top and started the long fast descent towards the days destination. A few more miles under my wheels, and just before 13:00 Exmouth and the days destination hove into view.
Hmmmmmm, well I'm here, now what? Turn around and head back the other way that's what. Many of my adventures are more about the journey than the destination and today was no exception. I'd seen the sea, I'd got a picture of a sign that said Exmouth and there was plenty more to see on the journey back home.
The days plan had always been to try and get back to roughly where I'd started from in the morning, breaking the trip down in 3 roughly equal legs, and that meant getting back towards and hopefully past Yeovil before bed time. Onward then, standing looking at the sea or wondering what to do in Exmouth wasn't going to achieve my aims. The afternoon slowly passed with more of the same. Ride the flat bits, roll down the hills and slog up the steep sides, pushing when it became too steep. The days average moving speed of less than 11 MPH gives you some idea of the terrain that I was crossing as the day progressed. It's normally fairly easy to maintain an average of closer to 15MPH without too many problems, so 11's pretty slow! Those steep sided hills and valleys are incredibly pretty though, which more than makes up for the extra effort required, and the long steep climbs leave you with plenty of time to stop and stare as you try to get your breath back. Making what could easily become a depressing slog fest a voyage of discovery, with a new vista around every corner and a plethora of pretty villages dotted along the way to maintain your interest. Eventually though, around 19:00, with tired legs and weary muscles, I rolled into Yeovil, found a shop to get some tea and supplies for the night and contemplated my next move. Not that there was much to contemplate, push on and find somewhere to spend the night. Which, having knocked a few more miles off as day turned slowly to night I did. Finally stopping for the day with 124 hilly miles under my belt.
A slow start with an extra brew on Sunday morning soon found me pushing up one last hill to climb onto the plateau at King Alfred's Tower. Although to be honest, I've no idea if there is a tower or if there is what it looks like, as the top was shrouded in low cloud, on what was a humid, damp morning.
Last final killer climb over and done with and it's plain sailing from here, with flatter, faster, roads taking me first towards Warminster and the onward to skirt the edge of Salisbury plain and Stonehenge, before picking up the more familiar roads to take me home, where birthday cake and fish and chips for tea awaited my return. Just what a hungry, aging cyclists wants on his birthday! So that's it, mission accomplished, a 50 Km mid week run to give a weekly running total of 50 miles, plus a 500km weekend away on the bike, in what just happened to be 50 hours. There's quite a few 50's there in celebration of my 50th. Oh and as a postscript, I've just noticed that the midweek 50Km run was my 50th Marathon! Strange how things work out, isn't it.
I suppose that after a few weeks where my adventures have been rather running focused it’s about time that I got back on my bike. And what better way to do that, than The Devils Punch Bowl 200Km Audax. Now, I've ridden this ride before, both in its 200Km form and the shorter 100Km route, which makes a nice morning out, and the thing that I remembered most from my previous outings, was that it’s hilly, nothing stupidly steep or long, but just lots of up and down, which tends to sap your strength and morale somewhat.
Before we even get to the start though, there’s the little matter of getting there. Normally this would involve a few miles in the van and an overnight stay, but why drag the van all that way when there’s another option. Bike! With the weather set to be sunny and hot (a bit too hot in fact) it seemed like an ideal opportunity to pack up the bivvy stuff and combine a bit of Audaxing with a bit of camping, and cycle to the start, and obviously if you’re cycling to the start, you’ve got to cycle back too, for double the fun! The only slight issue with this brilliant plan, being that the Audax was on Sunday and I should have been in work on Monday. That’s not an insurmountable problem though, and with a little bit of rejigging of appointments, I managed to get a days leave on Monday, leaving me free to play bikes all weekend!
Being at home on a Friday night was a novel experience and after popping up to the allotment for a good watering session and an easy evening chilling out with “The Emma” I was up bright and early on Saturday morning. It’s only 60 miles down to Steyning and there wasn’t much point in setting off too early, so taking advantage of the cool morning air, I slipped my running shoes on and plodded my way around 13 miles of local countryside before it got to hot. Getting back home just in time for a brew and second breakfast with “The Emma” who was just getting ready for work (unlucky).
Run done, showered, bike packed and hanging baskets watered, there didn’t seem to be much point in putting off the inevitable much longer. So, just before 14:00 I was off for a slow ride down to Steyning. With the sun shining brightly in a clear blue sky, it was hot going, pushing steadily uphill from home to crest numerous hills, as my route made its way South-East, towards, and then through, the South Downs National Park. A quick stop in Liss, to pick up more water and the obligatory ice cream, made the going slightly more bearable and the miles soon started to rack up, as my destination drew steadily closer. In fact, by 19:00, after a slow and steady ride, I was stopped on the verge of my destination, picking up supplies to see me through the night (water and biscuits, well you’ve got to have some pleasures in life), before pushing on to find a quiet and secluded spot to spend the night. And a quiet and secluded spot it was too. Tucked up just off a quiet bit of country lane, well hidden in the roadside trees, with a gorgeous view of open countryside from my hammock. I spent a very enjoyable hour watching a large herd of deer moving across the fields in front of me, whilst swaying contentedly in the breeze, with a brew and endless supply of biscuits, before getting an early night, ready for yet another early start in the morning.
After a peaceful night, the dawn broke with the promise of another stunningly hot day and I was up bright and early, sat watching the sun rise in the still cool early morning air, with yet another brew and the feeling of contentment that only comes when you at peace with the world and fully immersed in your surroundings.
Hunger sated with a light breakfast, and kit packed away, leaving nothing to suggest that I’d ever been there, I made the short journey down to the start location in plenty of time to have a brew and a bit of a chat with the days organiser and my fellow riders, before we were released for the days adventures, bang on time at 08:00. As I mentioned earlier I've done this ride before and it’s a really nice route, initially following along the North side of the South Downs, before heading into the South Downs National Park to visit Cocking, where we turn North to head to Petersfield and the first of the days stops.
With the sun shining brightly, endless fields of cereals reaching ripeness in the heat of the morning and some lovely, quiet, country roads to traverse, those first miles flew by and it was still surprisingly early in the day that I found myself replenishing my water supplies and getting a proof of passage receipt from the petrol station which seems to be a regular feature on Audax rides in Petersfield, prior to pushing on.
I had a recollection of the next leg being a long uphill drag along poorly surfaced roads from my last outing, but today, whilst the route did travel endlessly uphill, the road surface seemed far better and the traffic far lighter. Maybe it was just the sunshine keeping people at home, or maybe I was just feeling stronger than this time last year, either way the miles up to the Devils Punch Bowl passed pleasantly enough and It wasn’t long before I was traversing the Bowl itself, scene of many previous rides and runs, admiring the expansive views across Surrey and beyond. After the long slog of a climb to get up to the Punch Bowl comes the reward, and the couple of miles of downhill taking us to the next checkpoint at Thursley passed in a blur. The offer of tea and home-made cake almost made me stop for longer than was required to gather the obligatory stamp on my Brevet card and quick refill of my water bottles, but with the day rapidly going from pleasantly hot to sweltering, it seemed prudent to push on, getting as many miles under my belt as possible before the heat of the day really slowed things down.
he next legs a long one, taking us from Thursley right across country to the most Easterly point of the ride at Pease Pottage, where the idea of an ice cream was already playing through my mind! But first though there was the small matter of yet more climbing as I made my way through the heat of the day across the Surrey Hills.
A brief stop in Cranleigh for water and a sandwich, eaten whilst trying unsuccessfully to find a bit of shade from the relentless sun. And then plod on, heading slowly eastwards whilst the sun did it’s best to burn off the sun lotion that I’d been liberally applying and the grit and grime from the road did it’s best to stick itself to the remaining bits, resulting in a horrible, gritty, dirty coating on each and every bit of exposed skin! Enough about the state of my legs though. The miles between Cranleigh and Pease Pottage were hard going with the sun beating down and the road surface reflecting the heat back up again, bringing the temperature up to a new high. The only respite being the odd bit of shade created by overhanging trees or high hedgerows. I spend enough time complaining about it being cold, so you’d think I’d be taking full advantage of the amazing temperatures were experiencing this year, and, yes, whilst I’m happier being warm, the heat is pretty draining and makes what should be easy miles hard going. Eventually though Pease Pottage hove into view and pulling into the services I finally treated myself to the ice cream that I’d been thinking about for so long!
Rested and resupplied, it was onto the final leg. Due south for a few miles then a right turn to track back along the South Downs to return to the start, and a pleasant few mile it was too. Oh, ok it was hilly, hot and my legs were starting to complain, but coming back along the flatter roads to the North Side of the Downs, under the shade of the overhanging trees was lovely and one of the highlights of the ride for me!
All good things can’t last forever though and a little under 10 hours since setting off I was back at the start getting the final stamps on my Brevet card and congratulating the organiser on another superb day out, his great route choices and the exceptional bit of cake which seemed a just reward for the day’s endeavours.
All that remained was the couple of miles back to my little overnight hideaway, which passed easily enough.
Hammock back up, a bit of a stretch, wash the grime from my body as best I could with a limited amount of water (it’s amazing how clean you can get with a cupful of water and a cloth). A brew, or two, and a very pleasant evening swinging gently in my hammock, watching the day turn to night as the sun set and the world slowly cooled down after what had been a real scorcher with wall-to-wall sunshine. Now what’s not to like about that for a day out I ask you?
The forecast for Monday was for even hotter weather than Sunday with the possibility of records being broken. So, after what was probably a better night’s sleep than most people had whilst they stifled in the heat and I swung gently in the cooling breeze, I was up with the lark, looking to get as many miles in as possible before it got too hot.
The best laid plans of mice and men never pass first contact though, and today was no exception. By the time I was on the road at 06:30 it was already T shirt weather and getting hotter by the second. Nothing to serious for today though, just a case of retracing my steps from Saturday afternoon, back across all those hills that had seemed like such hard work in the afternoon sun and proved no easier today as the morning wore on and the temperature skyrocketed! A brief stop at 08:00 for an unusual second breakfast (cheese rolls), provided the opportunity to sit with my feet up admiring the view in the morning sun, although I say morning, it was still before most people drag themselves out of bed on a workday, let alone a day off!
Another few miles, and just before 10:00 I was back in Liss, taking advantage of that ice cream shop again, strictly under the pretence of having to stop for water I’ll hasten to add. But safe in the knowledge that those calories would soon be burned off as it’s a generally uphill slog from here to Medstead, which is within a few miles of home.
Up, up, up went the road in front of me, whilst, up, up, up went the temperature as the morning progressed. I mentioned earlier the heat takes it out of you and there were plenty of times as the morning wore on that I opted to walk up hills that I would normally ride up, just to get some respite from the sun and reduce the effort that I was having to expend. Hugging the little bits of shade that were available, I made slow progress. Better the tortoise than the hare, and with sweat dripping from my brow as the sun beat down, I finally reached the cricket ground at Medstead, where a welcome bench in the shade provided some respite from the sun. That’s the hard work done though, it’s more downhill than up from here on, and it wasn’t long before I was rolling along familiar roads with a cooling breeze blowing through my shirt courtesy of the faster speed on the flatter roads, something which was sorely missing during all those uphill struggles. A few more easy miles, a bit of traffic jam avoidance as I came through Basingstoke, and by lunchtime I was back home, debating whether it was too hot for a brew or not (obviously not, it’s never too hot for a brew!). What a great weekend then, 250 miles on the bike, 13 miles of running, 2 nights swinging gently in my hammock whilst the world sweltered indoors, and wall to wall sunshine. Personally, I’d say that’s not a bad use of a weekend plus a day’s annual leave. Oh, and I had 3 ice creams and it doesn’t get much better than that by my book!
You’ll all be pleased to know that I’ve had a busy weekend so there’s lots to tell you about this week (like I ever have a quiet one). But before I do, I’m just going to “sing the joys of spring” for 2 seconds.
This last week we’ve had some lovely weather, the suns been shining, there’s been a full moon, the Daffodils are blooming, all the little birds have been singing their hearts out and it’s amazing how much more productive and invigorated I feel. That little bit of sun coupled with the lighter evenings and an absence of rain, makes all the difference. Gone are the days of commuting to work and back in the dark. Granted it’s still cold in the mornings but coming home with the sun on your face is a real joy.
Getting up and opening the curtains in the mornings to be greeted by daylight is so much better too. OK, the low sun shows up how dirty the windows are, but that’s a small price to pay for having your breakfast in natural light, and things are going to get even better when the clocks go forward next weekend, giving us an extra hour of daylight in the evenings too.
Roll on the Summer then, because if this is how I feel now, come the real warmer days and longer evenings there’s going to be no stopping me!
Right, annoying, feeling good, spring in my step, anti rant (whatever that’s called) over, let’s get onto the meat of this week’s adventures and fun.
Having expected a few “tired legs” issues after last weeks planned 75-mile running attempt, I didn’t actually have anything planned for this weekend. But, by midweek my legs didn’t feel too bad. Certainly not “running good” and my left Calf still feels a bit sore, but good enough for a bit of cycling, and what better way to celebrate the return of the sun, than with a long ride and a night out under the stars? A quick fiddle with the route planning software one lunchtime in the week, and I’d got myself a nice little 200-mile loop. Departing from work on Friday afternoon, I'd travel up to Evesham through the Cotswolds and come back home again via Cirencester, Royal Wootton Bassett and Marlborough. (cycle.travel works quite well as a route planner for a starter, as long as your wise to its preference for off road diversions).
With the weather forecast looking favourable for the weekend, I’d hunted around in the loft on Thursday evening, gathering up all the camping gear that’s not seen the light of day for a couple of months and packed the bike up, ready for a quick getaway from work on Friday afternoon.
A touch of clock watching and numerous furtive glances out of the office windows, as the cold and frosty morning gave way to a bright and beautiful day, saw the morning drag slowly towards lunchtime and as the clock approached midday, I made my excuses and was away. And a beautiful afternoon it was too. Within the first couple of miles, I’d stopped and ditched my jacket in favour of a thin fleece top, and the winter gloves and neck warmer soon went the same way.
Heading up towards Newbury, with the breeze on my back, the sun in my face, the hedgerows alive with the sound of birdsong and the numerous Daffodil laden sunny verges alongside my route I was in my element.
All great things can’t last forever though, and as I approached Newbury a moments inattention saw both wheels clatter through a pothole, followed almost immediately by that unbalanced feeling that indicates somethings gone awry. Suspecting that the impact might have snapped a spoke or buckled the wheel I stopped for a look and was relieved to find that, although the wheel was in fine fettle, the tyre sidewall had obviously been damaged in the impact and was now showing an ominous bulge. Not an ideal situation when you’re planning on another 180 miles, and certainly not something that I could live with! There are 2 choices in this sort of situation, you either slink back home, dejected and broken, or have a quick think, come up with a solution to the problem and fix it. And as giving up isn’t in my nature, it’s got to be option 2. Luckily, not being far from home I knew there was a bike shop in Newbury. So, let a bit of air out of the tyre to reduce the bulge a bit, followed by a quick look at the map, and with a slight diversion head that way. Obviously, beggars can’t be choosers and my tyre choices were somewhat limited, but from their meagre selection I managed to find a suitable replacement. A quick 20 minutes of fiddling in the sun in their car park (most of which was unloading all my stuff so I could get the wheel off and repacking again) and voila, I was back on my way again!
Steadily progressing through the afternoon, I stopped in the late afternoon sun on an ideally placed bench, just North of Faringdon for a brew and a biscuit. Sat in the sun with my brew I was reminded of how the world is a changing place, when the local farmer pulled out of the entrance opposite driving a large tele-handler and proceeded to place his rubbish bins in the bucket (saves wheeling them to the end of the drive I suppose).
Spotting me, sat quietly watching, he wandered over for a chat, enquiring where I was off to and where I’d come from and generally singing the praises of the local countryside which he was obviously a proud custodian of. But the thing that struck me most during our brief meeting, wasn’t the fact that I’d guess he was in his later years (70+) and was obviously fit as a fiddle. But that he was immaculately turned out in a clean boiler suit, fleece jacket and wearing a shirt and tie. He may have been driving a massive modern machine, and doing a hard, dirty, physical job, where he was unlikely to meet another person all day, but there was no slipping of the old standards as far as he was concerned, modern meets traditional, in the true sense of the word.
Sitting around chatting and drinking tea wasn’t going to get me to todays destination though and as the afternoon started drawing to a close, I pushed on, arriving in Moreton-in-Marsh just as the day trippers and visitors were leaving.
A portion of chips, sitting by the riverside as the day turned to night, satisfied my hunger for a while longer and provided an ideal opportunity to sort my kit out for the next leg, and after a slightly longer than planned stop I headed back out into the dark. Climbing out of Moreton-in-Marsh with the last vestiges of the setting sun colouring the sky on my left and the full moon rising on my right was a real treat. And on quiet roads, accompanied only by the moon and the stars, I pushed on for another hour or so, bringing the days total mileage up to 96 miles before spotting a likely spot for my nights bivvy and bringing the days efforts to a close.
With the sky’s clear, the moon full and bright, and an easterly wind picking up as the night went on, it was a cold, but brilliantly lit night. When on occasion I awoke to the sound of deer barking in the surrounding fields or the wind rustling the trees, you could see as clearly as day, in the light of the moon. And as the sun rose to push away the remaining darkness it was to reveal a clear blue sky.
Too cold to linger in the cool morning air, I’d had a brew and my morning porridge and was on the road, fuelled and ready for another day’s adventures by 06:30. A few uphill miles helped push the cold from my bones and the stiffness from my legs and as I crested the last hills before the descent onto flatter ground Broadway Tower stood out tall and proud against the clear blue sky, in the chilly east wind which was now blowing strongly across my path.
A long, chilly descent from the high points of the Cotswolds saw me rolling into Evesham for 07:30 just as the market traders were setting up their stalls for the day and the last few party goers staggered sleepily home.
Another few flat easy miles and then, coming back into the Cotswolds, a return to the real work of the day, with some serious climbing to get back up onto the high ground, climbing made significantly harder this time around by the strong, cold, headwind that was now trying to push me back the way I’d come.
I’ll happily admit that there were a few occasions during the day that saw my tired legs defeated, resulting in the ignominious push of shame up some of the steeper hills. On one occasion, stopping halfway up a particularly long and steep drag, I spotted a nice little spot slightly above the road and sat for a while with a brew, watching, unseen from my perch, as a number of other cyclists, out for the day on their lightweight machines struggled up the same incline. Maybe with the extra weight of the camping gear I was carrying my legs weren’t in as bad a shape as I’d thought!
Through the worst of the Cotswolds hills and after a brief sustenance stop, the last of the big climbs of the day over the Hackpen climb on the North Wessex Downs and back towards Marlborough. By now, approaching lunchtime, the wind had really picked up, and coming over the top for the descent to Marlborough I was nearly blown to a standstill. There’s a long, steep, straight, descent here, where the only limit to the speed you can normally hit is the “scaredy cat factor”. Today though, despite giving it all I’d got and pedalling hard, I couldn’t manage 15MPH against the wind! Tiring, demoralising and with 50 miles still to go, hard going!
Coming wearily into Marlborough I resupplied and the found a cosy little spot, sheltered from the wind, and sat with a brew, stuffing my face with hot cross buns whilst wondering if my legs had it in them to push home against the wind.
It’s either push on, or put the Hammock up and sit out the day waiting for the wind to hopefully drop overnight though. And as I’ve got other stuff to do tomorrow (the allotment calls) sitting it out’s not an option, so I push on, legs stinging from the effort, neck aching from constantly hunching over trying to make my frontal size as small as possible, mind just focused on covering the miles, suffering in silence! Eventually through, the miles do tick down, and I find myself in Kingsclere, just 15 miles left to push, no point stopping now. A quick choccy bar, whilst investigating an unusual pile of empty snail shells (I’m guessing that’s some bird’s dinner table) and on again, into the late afternoon sun.
Finally, arriving home at 17:30, 11 hours after setting off in the morning, I’m happy to admit that I was spent. The wind had done for me. 100 miles into a headwind isn’t fun. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that it’s “character building” but, my characters built enough already thank you!
Wind or not, it had been a great couple of days out through, I’d been to a few places that I’d never been to before, I’d stopped and admired churches, war memorials, rivers and houses a plenty. I’d taken in far off views and watched as butterflies and birds skipped around within hands reach. I’d slept under the stars and admired the moon in all its glory, and I’d been pushed to my limits by mother nature and overcome everything that she’d thrown at me. What more can I add to that, except to say, when can I go again?
A strange thing happened last weekend, which is why there's no Blog entry.
I actually chickened out of an Audax ride! I should have been out playing bikes on Sunday. In fact I'd even got as far as loading up the van and traveling down to the start the night before. But when the morning broke and the weather forecast looked to have come true, I pulled the covers back up and stayed in bed. I must confess that it was absolutely throwing it down and the wind was howling through the trees and power lines. In fact, the roads were littered with fallen branches and puddles the size of small oceans as I made my way back home with my tail between my legs, so maybe it wasn't the best of days to be out playing bikes. The most annoying thing though, was the fact that by lunchtime it had turned into quite a nice day, and had I actually put on my brave face and got out there I'd probably of had a good day! Sometimes though, I suppose it's easy to take the easy option. When the rains being thrown in your face and the winds blowing you across the road it's not much fun. Or is it? It's certainly more of a challenge, and with a challenge comes reward, and the bigger the challenge the bigger the reward! Likewise I know that no matter what the weather, if I actually get out of the house, I'll probably have a good time. Once your wet, your wet. So, why is getting out there in the first place such a problem, why the procrastinating and the finding excuses not to go. Why not just pull on the waterproofs and get out there? If anyone knows the secret to over riding the desire to stay in when it's dark, cold and wet, then please let me know. It's only the start of November and I've already had enough of the winter, and this can't go on! Come on Perratt, get off your lazy arse and lets go and have some winter adventures!
Now I've got my dirty little secret from last weekend off my chest I suppose I'd better make amends and what better way to do that, than with a cheeky 200Km Audax, in the form of the Upper Thames.
But first, lets just back track a few hours, because this week also marked a bit of a landmark in the fact that I ran into work and back for the first time in 8 weeks. It's taken that long for my pesky right foot to feel good enough to risk punishing it with two 10 mile road efforts within 14 hours, but it feels like things are on the mend and I could be back in the game. I'll carry on taking it easy for a few more weeks yet, specially as I've got a 40 miler lined up for next weekend, but I'm hopeful that normal service is about to resume. Anyhow, back to this weekend. With Saturdays Audax starting from Cholsey near Wallingford, I thought that I'd extend the weekend a bit by escaping from work a bit earlier on Friday afternoon and taking the van up to Streatley for the night, and whilst I'm there I might was well take advantage of the trip and get in a few easy walking miles up the Thames path. And jolly nice it was too. It was nearly 16:00 by the time I got there and the temperature was starting to drop off, but wrapped up warm, I probably did 6 or 7 miles through the dusk and into the dark proper, before heading back to the van for tea and an early night. Cold or not, the river bank was quiet and deserted, apart from the plethora of wildlife making ready for the long night ahead. Groups of Geese lifting from the flowing water in formation, a number of Herons fishing for one last meal in the dying light, Red Kites overhead making their way back to their roosts after a successful days scavenging and a single Kestrel, hovering majestically, over the far bank. I don't do as much walking as I should, hopefully there will be plenty of time to walk when I'm too old to run! But, whenever I do pull on my walking boots I come home thinking "I should really do more of that" it's such a nice way to travel. No car's, no peddling, no puffing and panting, just the world moving steadily past with plenty of time to stop and stare.
Right, enough, I'm supposed to be telling you about Saturdays Audax, not wittering on about a load of old rubbish, and it's a good one this too. I'm guessing the fact that I know it's a good one, gives the game away that I've done it before. In fact, this was the first Audax ride I ever did, back in 2017, and I've done it every year since (except last year when it didn't run due to the Covid palaver) and I'm pretty sure that it's rained (normally heavily) every year that I've ridden it too!
Except, this year looked like it might buck that trend, because after a great nights sleep tucked away in the van, the morning dawned still, with a light cloud cover and as the sun came up it cast some lovely Lilac and Mauve light across the sky. A quick visit to the start control to pick up my Brevet card and then on the road before 07:30. An anytime start (between 7 and 8) took care of the normal mass grouped start and ensured Covid safety in this still uncertain world, whilst still giving a bit of normality to proceedings. How long this Covid lark is going to continue for is anyone's guess, but if sensible precautions can help life to continue then personally I'm all for it.
It's a bit of a ride of 3 halves this one, with the first half taking your through the Chiltern Hills with their multiple, short sharp climbs, before moving into the Cotswolds with their characteristic long slow drag hills and descents before a final, mainly flat few miles back to the start. The Chilterns worked their normal magic in the early morning though and it wasn't long before I was puffing and panting my way up the first of the days leg testing hills.
Nothing to stop me today though and after a few hours of ups and downs, the first manned checkpoint hove into view. Not before the drizzle started though! I knew that I should have kept my mouth shut earlier, but then again it wouldn't be the Upper Thames without getting wet! Luckily the rain didn't amount to much, and after a quick checkpoint stop I was soon on my way towards Bicester and the start of the second set of climbs for the day.
This second leg always seems to be a bit of a grind, not only is it somehow all up hill to Chipping Norton, but the wind always seems to be in your face too and just to add insult to injury, it's a pretty long and uninspiring slog of a leg. Finally though, after what seemed like an eternity, Chipping Norton arrived and with it the chance to stop for a few minutes and grab a quick sandwich, along with a receipt as proof that I'd actually been there.
I didn't hang around though as by early afternoon the wind had picked up considerably and had an icey edge to it. It was Ok all the time you were moving, but as soon as you stopped it cut straight through my thin jacket and base layer. Sitting on a bench in the cold eating a sandwich is hardly the height of luxury any way, so within 20 minutes I was back on the road for the final few miles of the Cotswolds and the delights of the final flat run for home.
Tackling the last couple of climbs with the wind in my face to get through Minster Lovell wasn't much fun and a short rain shower added insult to the misery and was made even worse by the sun making it's one and only appearance of the day, adding it's blinding brilliance to the rain as it dripped from my helmet.
Not to worry though, this is the final stretch and within a few minutes the rain had abated and the road flattened out. Dropping of the Cotswolds Plateau it wasn't long before the humped back bridge over the River Thames appeared, somehow signalling that it wasn't far to go now. A Left turn shortly after shifted the now strong wind to my back and with a wind assisted helping hand on flat roads, my speed picked back up to sensible levels for the first time in a few hours.
That bit of wind assistance made a real difference towards the end too and surprisingly, pretty much 9 hours after setting off I arrived back at the start control. Granted I'd probably only spent a maximum of 30 minutes stopped all day, but 9 hours for 130 miles, isn't bad going by any stretch of the imagination.
It's not supposed to be a race though, that's the whole point of Audaxing. It's all about challenging yourself, being Audacious, seeing some new parts of the countryside and having a good day out while your at it. And I'll happily confirm that todays fun was all of those things. Hilly enough to be challenging, rainy enough to get you damp without getting too wet, windy enough to make you think "this is hard work" but still fun enough to be sat with a big smile at the end of the day and the feeling of satisfaction that comes from pushing yourself out of your comfort zone!
Before I go, I've got a bit of a Chilli problem on the allotment. To be honest it's the same every year and I end up with tons of the things that I don't know what to do with. Some go in the freezer for use when cooking throughout the year, some I normally dry for making Chilli oil and some normally get made into Chilli Jam or sauce.
This year though I've found a recipe that just involves wizzing them up, adding a bit of sugar and Cider Vinegar and leaving to mature. And I'll tell you something for nothing, those jars now contain possibly the hottest thing known to man. I'll report back once they've had a couple of months to mature, but I've already got the feeling that this could be a bit saucy! Watch this space!
And finally (I promise), check this bad boy out. Parsnips truly are the roast veg of kings. You can keep your Spuds, I'll have some of this action with my roast please. Especially when it's gone from plot to belly in a couple of hours!
Unfortunately, it's been a bit of a funny one for the last couple of weeks and I've not really got anything of interest to talk about. As I've probably mentioned before "the Old Cheese" isn't well, and as such I've spent a fair bit of time on the road recently. I'm sure that it goes without saying that traveling between home and down to see her rather impacts on the amount of adventuring and pottering time available. I wouldn't have it any other way though, and family's got to come before fun. There will be plenty of time for adventures in the future and in the mean time there's plenty of other things to be getting on with. What I will do, whilst I haven't got anything more interesting to talk about though, is just spend two minutes talking about "Why". It's a funny old word isn't it, I looked it up in the dictionary earlier and apparently it can be used as an; Adverb, Conjunction, Pronoun, Convention and an Exclamation. Not that that's a lot of help, especially as I don't even know what half of those things are, let alone what they mean! In my case it seems to come up all the time as in "Why do you want to spend all day running" or "Why do you want to cycle to work in the rain" or "Why do you want to spend the night sleeping in a hammock when you've got a perfectly good bed". No one ever asks "Why do you want to go out for a meal" or "Why do you choose to drive to work and not cycle there in the rain" though, do they? So why is that? Is it because running 30 odd miles or cycling 200 is so far away from the public perception of what's normal that they can't understand it? Or is it because they can't, but wish they could? It's never even a "I'm asking because I'm interested" type of why either, it's normally a "well I think your a total idiot" type of why. But, why not? Just because my choices in life are different to yours doesn't mean I'm wrong and your right, does it? Just because I choose to live in a house made of bricks (when I'm not under canvas or away in the van) doesn't mean that all those people who live in mud hut's, caravans or caves are wrong does it? As far as I'm concerned, I feel a million times better now that I'm cycling to work on a daily basis, than I ever did when I had to commute by car. I get up in the morning excited about my ride into work. I get to see some beautiful sunrises, I get to see the frost glistening on the trees and fields, I get to feel the wind on my face and get into work feeling energised and ready for the day ahead. How many of us can say that after sitting in traffic, stressed out at our lack of progress, whilst crawling our way into work in the morning? It's the same with running, I'll grant you it's taken a long time to get to the point where I know that I can pull my running shoes on and just go for as long or as far as I want. There's been plenty of setbacks along the way too, and believe you me, there's no worse feeling than getting injured and fretting that this may be the end of your running career. But, believe you me, it all pays off in the end. Getting up early on a weekend morning is no longer the chore it once was. There's an opportunity to be outside in the fresh air, experiencing the world at it's best. Where ever you may be, your not far from the countryside or seaside and all it has to offer. There's no better feeling than running through woodland in the early morning, with the birds singing their hearts out and the sun glinting through the trees, it's magical! It's the same up on the hills on a summers evening, with the swallows flitting around and the skylarks singing. Or walking along the canal in the dusk with the bats performing feats of aerial agility that we can only dream off around your head. The sight of Kites, Buzzards and Kestrels soaring effortlessly on the wind, to be replaced as night falls, by fleeting glances of owls caught in your bike headlights as you roll along quiet country lanes, looking for a place to pitch your hammock for the night. The sight of the sun glinting from the sea as you work your way along a deserted coastal path. The crunch of fresh snow underfoot as you run along roads now impassable to vehicles. The tracks of Rabbits, Voles and Deer clearly visible, amidst the crashing silence created by that same fresh snow, the trees bowing under its weight, the wind blowing the loose powder around your feet. The thought of coming home to a brew and hot toast when your soaking wet and cold. The blessed relief of turning a corner and getting out of the wind when you've been running or cycling into a gale force headwind. Frozen fingers wrapped around a hot brew, a plate of beans on toast, or a bowl of rice pudding, in a village hall at midnight, when your mid way through a 200 mile Audax ride, with half a dozen like minded lunatics. Watching the stars and listening to the night time creatures going about their business from the comfort of your bivvy or hammock as you drift off to sleep. The tiredness, accompanied by that feeling of deep satisfaction that comes from a full days exercise out in the fresh air. The general sense of satisfaction that comes from going further, faster, harder. The same sense of satisfaction that comes from finally managing to conquer that hill without stopping, or achieving some new personal goal. Yes, I'll grant you my legs are a bit stiff sometimes and occasionally it takes me a while to get really going in the mornings. But isn't that the same for all of us as we get older? And, at the same time, at least I know why my legs hurt (it's running up that stupid hill 5 times yesterday).
When I look around and talk to people with more sedentary lifestyles of my own age, I've got far less aches and pains, I'm more agile and flexible. I've not got a bad back and I don't rattle when I walk from all the medications I'm taking. At the end of the day we are designed to run, walk, lift and carry stuff, not sit in front of screens and TV's all day without moving. It's no surprise half of us struggle to get up the stairs! The benefits may not be immediately obvious, but if you look they are there. In my previous job I spent a lot of time crawling around in plant rooms and lift shafts. On the odd occasion that I worked with other people I'd be done, dusted and on my way home, whilst they were still struggling up the first flight of stairs. No parking space right outside the office door or shops? No problems, I'll park further away and carry what I need, whilst my colleagues drive endlessly around waiting for a closer space. Car won't start in the morning. No problem, I'll walk or take my bike! And so the list goes on. OK, maybe by spending 3 hours running with my heart rate at 145 BPM I'm using up all my heart beats and I'm going to have a heart attack. Or maybe the fact that for the other 21 hours of the day it's ticking along at 45 instead of 90 cancels that out? Perhaps running's bad for your knees and I'll wear the joints out. Or maybe that's bollocks and provided you build up slowly, have sufficient rest days to allow your body to recover and stop if it hurts, you'll actually end up in a better position due to strengthened muscles and bones! Maybe, just maybe then, the question should actually be the other way around and instead of people looking at me like I'm crazy and saying "why do you want to go doing that". It should actually be "Why do you want to spend your life sat in front of the TV watching drivel". Or, "Why do you want to spend Saturday mornings sat in a big queue of traffic getting to Costa when you could be out in the fresh air"? Perhaps, and I'm as guilty as the next man on this one, that's something for all of us too think about the next time were casting judgements on other peoples choices or trying to project our failings onto them. Maybe it's us that's got it wrong and not the person that we think is different or weird for their life choices? And maybe the answer to the "Why" question is just "Why not" or simply "Because I can"! Whilst perusing the web looking for my next adventure the other day, I stumbled across a review for a 140 mile loop around Berkshire. "H'mmm", thought I. 140 miles around Berkshire, that sounds right up my alley, and at a distance that could be good for a cheeky Friday night / Saturday morning mini adventure, "prey, tell me more"! Looking at the suggested route, there were a couple of bit's that didn't particularly take my fancy. Mainly a somewhat unnecessary slog through the middle of Reading and an additional loop that heads up past Maidenhead. I'm guessing that the original route goes through Reading to avoid the hilly area to the North and to take in the cycle path along the Kennet and Avon Canal as it passes through town. As for the bit to Maidenhead, well your guess is as good as mine. I mean why would anyone choose to go there, you'd be better off going to Slough! A bit of jiggling with the route through the week to take into account my overnighting plans and I had a route that I thought would work better for my needs. Chuck in a start from home (or work as it turned out) and I had a reasonable looking 150 miles of spring fun lined up. With the forecast for Friday night and Saturday morning looking good, I dug my panniers, hammock, and all the other bits and bobs out of the loft Thursday night, packed up the bike and cycled into work Friday morning with everything I'd need for a night away. Escaping from work, after a few hours of clock watching, I was on my way North by mid afternoon. A short leg through the North Hampshire countryside, on what was a sunny but somewhat chilly afternoon, left me picking up the planned route just before the massive housing project which is ongoing on the site of the old Arborfield Garrison and I was soon on my way proper. Being a Friday afternoon the roads were busy heading towards Bracknell, but it didn't take long too reach the car free sanctuary of Windsor Great Park and with it the opportunity to get the first of many brews on. A handily positioned bench, ideally situated, beneath a statue commemorating the Prince Consort, gave me somewhere to rest my legs for a while as I enjoyed the afternoon sun and the brief respite from the traffic. Thirst sated and biscuits scoffed, it was onward, through Windsor and it's surrounds. Media broadcast trucks, getting ready for Saturdays funeral arrangements replaced the more traditional hoards of tourists, adding to the normal traffic problems, and it was slow going for a while. Pushing steadily on as the afternoon turned slowly to evening, I stopped briefly in Sonning Common as I looped around the top of Reading to pick up supplies for tea and top off my water bottles for the night. No time to stop for too long though, as I planned on getting a few more miles in before dark. Through Whitchurch-on-Thames and back over the River Thames again, I was making good progress. The roads were quieter now, with the rush hour over and all the normal people tucked up at home having their tea and settling down for the evening. Not me though, not today anyway, as I continued peddling on towards the setting sun. By the time I passed under the A34 at East Ilsley it was getting dark and with just over 80 miles on the clock for the day, it seemed sensible to find a spot for the night, grab something to eat and get my head down for a few hours. Supernoodles, Pitta bread and cheese sandwiches, washed down with a brew and a couple of biscuits, may not be the most luxurious of meals. But as I sat, gently swaying in my hammock, watching the stars start to fill the now dark skies as bats patrolled along the tree line on the look out for their own suppers, it seemed pretty luxurious too me! With clear sky's, the temperature dropped rapidly as it got dark and I awoke a few times in the night with cold feet! Cold feet or not, I slept reasonably well considering this was my first night in the hammock for a while, and as the sun came up I dragged myself back out from the comfort of my warm and snug sleeping bag to get packed up and have a brew. Just after 06:00 I was back on the now deserted roads, but to say it was cold would have been an understatement. Considering it's the middle of April it was bloody freezing! The surrounding fields were covered in a hard and thick layer of frost, the roadside puddles and my toes were frozen solid, and when I went to grab a drink a short while later my water bottles had frozen into a thick slush! But, most importantly, the sun was shining and bringing with it the good news that things were going to get better as the morning progressed. I pushed on for an hour or so, before stopping in the early morning sun for breakfast and the chance to shed a few layers of clothing. Sat with my back leaning against my bike, a brew on the go, and my belly fully of porridge. I watched a pair of Swallows, the first I've seen this year, and another sure sign that warmer days are on their way, sunning themselves, as I was, warming themselves after their own travels and the cold night. Warmed, fed and watered it was time to push on and I made steady progress through the morning. Crossing back over the M4 at Membury always seems to mark a milestone in any adventure, and brings with it a return to more familiar roads and with them the chance to relax a bit. With less need to concentrate on the route there was more chance to take in the world around me. Daydreaming along the quiet country roads I saw my first Bluebells for the year, along with the normal Kites, Deer and spring lambs. Cattle, finally released to graze the fresh grass, after their winters confined to the farmyard and the safety it brings, frolicked in the fields as I passed, and the Goldfinches flitted from the hedgerows ahead of me. One more short stop for a brew and a biscuit (or two) sat in the sun, provided the chance to stretch my legs, watch the world go by for a while, and refuel before the last few miles home. Well into home territory by now, passing familiar landmarks, on roads made familiar from other, shorter adventures, the remaining miles passed quickly and it wasn't long before I was rolling to a stop at home, marking the end of another mini adventure. 150 miles through some beautiful countryside, a night under the stars and still home by lunchtime. I think that's a pretty good way to start your weekend don't you? I'm not sure if I'd be in any rush to repeat the first half of this route though. The East side of Berkshire is pretty built up, with some heavy traffic and some busy roads. Not ideal cycling territory and you need to be on your guard, with your wits about you if your going to escape from the traffic madness intact. As soon as your past Reading though, it's a different matter and your onto some lovely quiet roads with some great views and some idyllic cycling. A route of two halves then and I certainly know which half of Berkshire I prefer! After the excitement of Friday night and Saturday morning, the rest of the weekends a bit of a let down I'm afraid. Saturday afternoon I headed up to the allotment to get the next set of seeds going in the greenhouse (Courgette, Sweetcorn, French and Runner Beans, Pumpkins and Squash) as well as look over what's supposed to be already growing. I've got to say that we seem to be a long way behind this year, compared to normal. Most years the greenhouse staging is groaning under the weight of summer bedding, Brassicas and other veg, all waiting to be planted out, once any chance of frost has passed, by now. This year though most of it's not even sprouted yet, and what has is just sat there looking sorry for itself. In previous years I've been fretting about planting tomatoes and cucumbers out in the greenhouse before they get too leggy by now. This year they are currently still on the windowsill at home, trying to grow enough to get potted on! There's no doubt that it's been an unusually cold spring so far, which is what seems to be holding everything back. Not too worry though, nature always sorts itself out in the end and it's always surprising how quickly things grow once the conditions are right. Sunday I was up early for a few running miles around the local countryside. With the sun shining again, next to no wind and most people still in bed, it was a lovely morning just to be out and about. I didn't push too far or too hard, just plodded along, enjoying the feeling of the ground under my legs and the steady rhythm of my breathing, as I slowly moved through the waking morning. The days when you just go out to run for the sake of running, with no ulterior motives and no real plan often seem to be some of the best. Some days everything just seems to fall into place and it just seems effortless. There always seems to be something to look at, or something to distract you, and the miles just seem to tick steadily along and this was one of those days. It was almost a shame, and I really considered just running past home and keeping going, when I got back with 16 miles under my belt. I can't just spend my whole life having fun though and there were other things to be doing, not just running. There's brews to drink, lunch to eat, windows to clean, light bulbs to change, lawns to mow, bikes to oil and the whole plethora of other uninteresting jobs that need doing, and I keep putting off, to be getting on with. A few more running miles anyone? Unusually, I'm going to wrap up this week with a bit of a rant. Now I don't want to flame the cyclist V motorist debate, but for the first time in as long as I can remember I've had to put up with 2 instances of road rage in as many days. I'm guessing that as the suns out and the shops are open again, everything has gone back to normal and this is how it will be going forward. I sorely hope not, but I'm going to mention both bits here in the hope that it may make someone stop and think.
----------------------------------------------------------------- If your traveling down a quiet country lane in your Range Rover / Massive BMW / Insert ego extension here, and you come across a cyclist, who's already moved over as far as they can, because they heard your massive polluting 2 tons of metal coming, long before you even considered looking up from your phone, and you find that you humongous car still wont fit through the gap, then there's no point beeping your horn and getting wound up about it. Just consider the fact that the cyclist is taking up less than a meter of the road. It's your penis extension which is taking up all of the other 4 meters. It's your car which is too wide to get through the gap, and is far bigger than the roads were designed for. Beeping, shouting or expecting the cyclist to stop to let you past isn't going to help and is likely to end in tears. Maybe consider getting a smaller car, then you'll be able to fit through quite happily! --------------------------------------------------------------- If your travelling down a 2 lane country road and find yourself at the back of a line of traffic and get held up for a few seconds because the person at the front of the line is dithering along and can't decide whether to overtake the cyclist or just sit behind, then that's not my fault. When eventually they do finally make the move and you all come streaming past, It's pointless winding down your passenger window, pulling alongside and shouting abuse whilst threatening the cyclist with your 2 tons of metal for being in the way. For a starters, your stuck in line of traffic because the car driver at the front is holding you up, and has been for long enough to gather a line of traffic behind them. Just because you've then been further delayed by their lack of ability to overtake slower traffic safely, is not the fault of the cyclist, it is the fault of the car driver at the front of the line! Threatening a vulnerable road user with your shiny new higher purchase ego extension is not big or cleaver and is likely to end in tears. Tears which are likely to be yours, either because you've managed to knock the cyclist down and kill them in your fit of rage and your going to have to spend the rest of your life with that on your conscience. Or, because they've caught up with you while your stuck at the next road junction and given you back better than you gave in the first place! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- We can all exist quite happily together on the roads if we just show a bit of cooperation, consideration and manners. In the main our country roads were designed for horses and carts, pedestrians, cyclists and the cars you see today in museums and at historic car runs. They weren't designed for stupidly big, BMW X6s, Range Rovers or Porsche Macan's (whatever they are supposed to be). If your having difficulties getting past, then please consider that it's as much your fault for driving around in a car the size of a tractor, as it is the fault of the cyclist or pedestrian for having the temerity to take up 50 cm's of road. Likewise if your delayed by 30 seconds until a safe place to pass becomes available, then please take the time to consider what you are being delayed from, before you lose the plot. Your Costa's not going to get cold, your not missing anything on the TV, because there's nothing on worth watching, and the shops will still be open when you get there 30 seconds later. And if it is something important, then maybe you should have just got up 5 minutes earlier! Hopefully by next week the sun will have gone back in, everyone will have got bored of the shops being open again and got their hair cut, and we can go back to normal! If not please just think before you lose the plot, you'll only give yourself a heart attack otherwise! With 4 days off that needed filling and only limited opportunities to get away, Easter 2021 could have been as much of a wash out as Easter 2020 was. However, with a bit of ingenuity and careful planning I've managed to have a real adventure over the past couple of days. With many of the lock down restrictions still in place, no pub's or cafe's open and still no organised running or cycling permitted, whatever I got up to was going to have to be alone, self-supported and self-sufficient. Pretty much a normal weekend for me then! I'd initially considered a few days away on the bike, but with the rules still officially preventing overnight stays and considering the distance that you can travel on a bike in 3 or 4 days (were talking hundreds of miles) I thought that wasn't quite in keeping with my law abiding self. A couple of days walking though, starting and finishing from home. Out of the way of other people, self-sufficient and alone, surely that's close enough to be allowed? Well, officially permitted or not, I wasn't going to waste the time off. So, after a bit of thinking, a bit of time studying the maps of the local area and a sort out of kit that's not seen the light of day for 6 plus months, I'd come up with a rough plan. Good Friday Walking kit packed Thursday night, I was up and raring to go well before some people go to bed on Friday morning. Breakfast done, brews supped, last minute kit fettling fettled and I was away by 07:30 on what was a dull and overcast morning, but with the promise of better to come. My planned route for the day involved heading West from home, following as many footpaths as possible in order to pick up the Test Way at Longparish, where I would turn North, marking the first leg of what would be a circular / square route around home. Slowly picking my way along the still deserted roads, feeling the weight of my pack on my shoulders for the first time in a while, I paused, not for the first time, to admire a row of trees in full blossom, the sound of Bee's, like me already up and about and working hard, clearly audible. Tree blossom is a sure sign that winters on the way out and better days are around the corner, it's such a precarious time to flower though, one sharp frost or gale and all that beauties destroyed in the blink of an eye. At the edge of town I picked up footpaths, familiar from a hundred evening runs, leading me through Oakley and onward, too pastures new. Moving off the familiar paths at Deane, it wasn't long before the stunning carving and fretwork on the fascia boards of the church lychgate at Ashe caught my eye. The hours spent by some long-forgotten master craftsman, carefully hand working the long Oak boards into symmetry and beauty, not for some cathedral, but a village church with a congregation numbering under 50. Craftsmanship admired for years by many, but now seldom noticed as we speed past on our busy way to wherever. I'd plenty of time to stand and stare today though and take the time to notice the small gargoyles holding the stone overhangs on the bell tower and the hand cleaved chestnut shingles on the roof too, before moving slowly on my way. Past duck ponds and through fields filled with young Lambs, I gradually wound my way through the Hampshire countryside. Slowly onward, pausing briefly to watch some young Muntjac Deer grazing peacefully in the fields a matter of meters away as I headed into Whitchurch, completely at ease once they had ascertained that I was no threat. The Churchyard at Whitchurch offered a bench in the sun among the Daffodils to take the weight from my shoulders and have a late lunch stop. Sitting in the early afternoon sun, I reflected on how many other travelers would have rested here on their own travels over the centuries. The church providing a constant point as the world evolved around it. Modes of travel, evolving from foot, through horse, to bicycle and onto cars, the churchyard and the shelter it provides a constant in all, until now where the car has made the need to rest irrelevant! Hunger sated, I pushed on towards Longparish and my date with the Test Way, not a care in the world and free with my own thoughts, just the steady plod of my feet on the soft ground as my companion, my only worry where to stop for the next brew. Life doesn't get much better than this, and as the miles ticked off I was in my element; Sun shining, beauty all around. I saw my first Butterfly’s for the year on this stretch, flitting easily on the gentle spring breeze. Where have they been all winter? It's hard to believe that some, the Painted Lady among them, migrate from southern Europe. When you see their delicate wings being blown haphazardly around in the wind it's a wonder they can fly at all, yet alone make those epic journeys. The tales they must have to tell of their travels! An Idyllic brew stop, in a secluded spot alongside the river test, seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up and I spent a peaceful hour, sat with a brew and my book, watching the world go by. That's the beauty of these types of adventures, there's nothing else to do apart from walk, watch the world go by and contemplate life. Simplicity in itself, something that’s often missing from modern life! As afternoon turned towards evening, so my direction of travel changed as I picked up the Test Way and turned onto the second, Northern leg of my journey. I'd walked the Test Way back in 2019 and had in mind a spot for the night that I'd used previously, just outside St Mary Bourne. As the day drew to a close though my memory seemed to be playing tricks with me, as nothing looked like I remembered it from my previous overnight stop, and with plenty of “Keep out” and “Private” signs on the ground either side of the path, my options looked limited. Forsaking my original plans, I pushed on a bit further than planned, and with 24, satisfying miles in my legs, settled on a quiet, out of the way spot on the outskirts of St Mary Bourne itself to get my head down for a few hours. Miles walked - 24 Saturday The wind had picked up massively during the night, waking me up on a few occasions as it whistled through the trees above my head, leading to a fitful night’s sleep. Oh well, if you’re not asleep you might as well be doing something useful and I was awake and packing up with the daybreak. With a warm brew inside me, thermals on, and a flask of porridge brewing for breakfast safely stowed away, I was on the road again just after 07:00. I knew from previous exploits that today was going to be a hard day, the first 13 miles are pretty much all up hill, climbing slowly (and not so slowly) from my overnight stop to the highest point in Hampshire at Pilot Hill. This was going to be followed by an exposed section along the high ground towards Kingsclere for the East bound leg of my walk and if the wind at low level was anything to go by, things could get interesting later on! Despite the overcast morning and chill in the air, the first couple of hours remained sheltered from the wind and I made good progress, getting 5 miles under my belt before stopping for breakfast and a brew. A mile-long stretch of farm track with millions of Daffodils in full bloom either side made for an epic sight and an ideal breakfast spot, spoiled only by the need for regular signs requesting people not to pick the flowers! Continuing the long slow climb through open countryside and small wooded areas, following the Test Way ever upwards was a real pleasure. Primroses, Blackthorn blossom, Tits and Finches, flitting from the hedgerows, maintaining their distance. Pheasants and Grouse calling from the fields either side and Red Kites circling easily overhead, maintaining a steady watch over their territory’s as I passed slowly on my way. A small heard of Deer off in the distance, alert to my presence, way before I sensed theirs, watching warily as I passed and the ever-present crunch of my boots on the ground as I marched steadily on. By lunchtime I’d reached the top, and, as predicted, the wind was screaming across the exposed hillside. I found shelter in the lee of a decaying tree for a well-earned brew and bite to eat. But, with the wind chill driving the temperatures down it was too cold to hang around for long and I was soon back on my way, heading steadily Eastwards along the ridge line I’d run 2 weeks ago, on my way back towards Kingsclere. With an eye on the water situation the afternoon slowly passed as I made my way along the high ground towards my destination for the night. I’d planned on pushing on towards the 20-mile mark and calling a halt for the day. Any night stop however, depended on finding water, a somewhat scarce commodity on the high chalk hills. I had a quick look around a few empty farm buildings for signs of a tap, looked in a few empty troughs and considered the options for dropping off the high ground for a resupply if the opportunity presented itself. All to no avail. The lack of water lead to a bit of a dilemma, the closest water source I knew of was at Hannington (a couple of miles the other side of Whitehill) and by this point still a good 8 or 9 miles away. That left me with 2 options; Stop as planned at the 20-mile mark and have a thirsty night with no morning brew. Or, push on to Hannington making it a 28-mile day! When there’s a choice to be made there’s only really one option, and that’s stop for a brew, think it through and then decide on a course of action. Decision made to push on, that’s what I did. With the mast at Whitehill guiding me towards my destination for the night I kept moving forward. As the afternoon turned slowly towards evening, so the wind dropped, and the sun started peeking out from behind the clouds bathing the surrounding countryside in its soft orange glow. A brief stop for Tea and a couple more miles saw me arrive at Hannington and the strategically positioned tap just as it started to get dark. Water replenished and a quiet spot found for my Bivvy I was soon tucked up, warm and snug in my sleeping bag watching a stream of Starlink satellites catching the sun, now well below the horizon, as they streamed overhead on their never-ending orbits of the earth. Miles walked – 28 Easter Sunday. With the clear skies the temperature had plummeted overnight, and I awoke with the dawn to a heavy covering of frost on my Bivvy bag and a thin layer of ice between the Bivvy and my sleeping bag. I’d stirred a few times in the night to move my knees and tuck my thermals in and felt a bit chilly (not enough to put any more clothes on though), but I hadn’t expected to wake up to that! It just goes to show that with the right kit you can get out and about at any time of year with no problems. With the sun slowly climbing like a giant red orb into the early morning sky and pushing the darkness away it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. As I packed up and made a brew with the dawn chorus in full swing and the frost glinting off the grass and bare trees, there was probably no where better to be in the world! After the big miles of Friday and Saturday, today would be an easy day. It was only 12 miles back home from here, most of which is downhill, so there was no rush to get going and with plenty of water now on hand it seemed rude not to have another brew and watch to sun rise from my vantage point. By the time I finally got going the sun was well and truly up and as predicted there wasn’t a cloud in the sky or breath of wind. A couple of hours of gentle plodding along and I found a nice little spot for a breakfast stop. Sat on a tree stump in the sun, brew on hand and breakfast on the go, all was right with the world, and I sat reflecting on previous adventures and those still to come. It’s the little moments like these that make all the day’s out in the rain, the cold fingers and toes and the mud so worthwhile. You’ve got to take the rough with the smooth but when the good bits come, boy oh boy, are they worth it! As the morning wore on and I got closer to home the day really warmed up and I was soon shedding layers like a man possessed. As the layers came off and I got closer to town, so the numbers of people steadily rose. Dog walkers, joggers, families out with their children, walking and on bikes, their days out just starting as my weekend adventure drew to a close.
Arriving back home just after lunch, as I sat in the sun with a well earned brew chatting to “The Emma” she asked if I’d had a good time. I thought for a moment of the 60 or so miles I’d covered over the previous 2 ½ days, all on foot, starting and finishing from home; 2 nights out under the stars, a howling gale, frost on my sleeping bag, butterfly’s, ladybirds, blossom, lambs, primroses, secluded river banks, wide open hillsides, woodlands, footpaths, birds, deer, brews with views, tired legs and to top it all off, that contented feeling you get at the end of a job well done. “Yeah, not bad” I said. “How about you”? Miles Walked - 12 Well there we go, another year over and done with, and to be honest I can't believe how fast it's gone. Considering we've spent a big chunk of the year in lockdown and when we've not been in lockdown it's been raining, it's flown by. 2020's certainly not been the most exciting of years on the adventure front and it's not been the most inspiring year on the projects front. But, looking back I don't think I've done too bad all things considered. On the projects front I've completed the fruit cage on the allotment (and had a very successful growing season), we've had a home made Christmas and I've got a fair chunk of project patio completed, although there's still a way to go on this one! On the running front I've managed to complete a marathon distance (or more) run in every month of 2020, which considering there's been very few organised events for the majority of the year is pretty good going in my opinion. I can vouch for the fact that it's a lot harder to drag yourself around 26 miles on your own than it is with a bit of support, and trying to keep it local during the lockdown whilst still trying to keep it interesting, proved a new challenge. A challenge which actually proved beneficial, forcing me to investigate a lot of new paths and trails in the local area, massively increasing my knowledge of the locality and opening up some interesting new routes. I've not done too bad on the bike either, clocking up just shy of 3800 miles, which again when you consider there's been very few organised events to inspire me isn't too shabby. Things haven't been quite so good on the camping and overnight adventures front though, and I seen to have only managed 6 nights out under the stars all year. Again, the coronavirus situation has massively hindered the overnight escapes, so that can't be helped. The late spring and early summer were glorious weather wise, but coincided with the no going out rules, and by the time the rules were relaxed the weather had taken a turn for the worse and my work problems were at their peak, severely limiting my time to get out and about. On a more positive note and despite the restrictions, I've still managed 38 nights out in the van through the year, the majority of which have been in the colder months, so it's still earning it's keep. With my latest project to add heating (something I should probably have done from the start) it should continue to increase it's versatility and comfort. As I mentioned earlier, I've had a good season on the allotment, with plenty of veg still to harvest, ready to see us through the remainder of the winter and we've got a fully stocked store cupboard full of Jam's and Chutney's, so we're certainly not going to starve this winter. The gardens looked ok through the spring and summer too with plenty of colour which led to some nice evenings and early mornings sat contemplating the world in the sunshine. Over the next few weeks I'll try and find the time to update the Reminiscing page on my website for a bit of a look back at 2020. But in the mean time how about a few facts and figures for all you statistics fans out there.
Miles Run - 1726 Runs of 26.2 miles or over - 12 Longest run - 39 miles (Basingstoke canal) Runs over 13.1 miles (Not including those counted as marathon distance) - 25 2 Pairs of running shoes worn out! Average daily running distance - (miles run /365) - 4.73 miles Miles Cycled - 3797 miles Longest ride - A miserly 133 miles Average daily cycling distance - (miles cycled /365) - 10.4 miles Nights out in the van - 38 Nights out camping - 6 Not the highest cycling mileage ever, but the most miles I've ever run in one year by a small margin, something I'm pretty happy with. I've managed to get through the whole of 2020 injury free too, something which will hopefully continue into 2021 and beyond. So, come on 2021, let's see what new adventures and challenges you've got too offer! Ahhh, that's more like it, normal service appears to have been resumed and after last weeks heat wave, things seemed to have returned to normal. I've had a few days off this week, obviously perfectly timed as usual, for a few days of strong winds and constant rain, you couldn't make it up could you! Not to be downhearted though I've still managed to get out and about a fair bit, starting on Wednesday (my first day off) which coincidentally coincided with rain from 08:00 until 18:30! My original plan had been to spend a couple of hours on the allotment getting the new roof on the shed, followed by that most hated of jobs, putting a coat of paint onto the newly prepared workshop doors. I even got as far as the allotment, before I thought "sod this for a game of soldiers" and valiantly retreated back to the safety of home for some lunch. With no end to the rain in sight and going slightly stir crazy I eventually thought "Sod It", got my waterproofs on and headed out for a few hours of walking in the rain. I ended up sloshing my way around a very wet 10 miles, following one of my local off road running routes and whilst I'm not going to pretend that it was the best day out I've ever had, there is something quite satisfying in taking on the weather and winning! The forecast for Thursday looked a lot brighter, so I had the alarm set nice and early, with the plan being to get a few bike miles in (with a plan B and C up my sleeve just in case). The forecasters were spot on though and the morning dawned fine and bright, ideal cycling weather, with a promise of plenty of sunshine, nice temperatures and a fun day out on the cards. Out of the house for 07:30, I headed up towards Newbury, before turning West towards Hungerford, Marlborough and Calne, then dropping down towards Devises and heading for home via Pewsey and Whitchurch. It's not a bad little run this with plenty of varied terrain, including a couple of big ascents in the early stages and a nice flat run in to the finish, just when you need it. The roads are nice and quiet with most of the traffic using the major routes through the area and there's plenty to look at to keep your mind occupied. With 112 miles under my belt, my tan topped up and a few more calories burned off, I was back home by late afternoon, leaving plenty of time for a spot of tea (and a couple of beers) with "The Emma" having made the most of what was forecast to be the best day of the bunch. Things weren't looking quite so clever Friday morning, with a strong wind already blowing and forecast to get worse as the day progressed. Unsure of what to do with the day I thought I'd start things off with a bit of a run, that way no matter what happened later, at least I would have achieved something! I much prefer running in the morning, although it's not very often that I get the chance during the week, so you have to make the most of these opportunities. An hours running set me up nicely for a morning on the allotment and I've finally managed to get the shed re-roofed and watertight. It feels a lot more rigid now that it's sat on a proper base and adding some triangulation to the new roof's helped things along. With any luck it will last a few more years, or at least long enough to repay the expenditure in roofing felt and a few bits of timber, £50 is still a lot better than the £200+ to replace it though so I'm more than happy with that. I just need to add some new door hinges and a hasp and job done. Oh and sort out all the stuff that's in the shed and now in a big heap on the floor. There's no rush now as at least it's dry and hopefully not going to blow away! With the wind from the South West and growing in intensity as the day progressed I was in two minds what to do with the afternoon. Whilst it was blowing a gale and pretty humid it was still warm and dry (ish). Eventually my adventurous side won out and I packed up the bike for a cheeky overnight jaunt. Out of the house by 16:00 I pushed down towards Salisbury plain in a roundabout direction, fighting the wind for a fair portion of the time, but taking my time and enjoying being out and about. This is another good little route and one I've used plenty of times before. There's not only plenty of good Bivvy spots, but you pass through quite a few little towns too, which are always handy for a resupply of biscuits or a spot of tea. Not trusting the weather, I elected to stop fairly early to give myself plenty of time to get the Hammock and Tarp well set up and pegged down and was in bed, being gently rocked to sleep by the howling gale that was ripping through the trees before 22:00. The wind woke me a couple of times in the night, as did the rain lashing against the Tarp at some point in the dark. I however stayed dry and quite enjoyed laying listening too it, as it tried unsuccessfully to spoil my fun. By the time I woke up the wind had died right away and the sun was just making an appearance over the horizon, with the promise of another nice day. A quick cup of tea, stow the gear away and I was on the road again for 06:30, pushing down through Amesbury and on towards Salisbury and the promise of breakfast once I got to the other side. It makes sense to try and get Salisbury out of the way whilst the roads are still quiet as it's a bit of a traffic black-spot. If you can be through and out the other side before all the idiots get up and the roads become gridlocked then that's worth delaying breakfast for as far as I'm concerned. Salisbury, safely negotiated I knocked out a few more miles, before finding a secluded little spot to settle down for a brew and a somewhat delayed breakfast. Sitting in the early morning sunshine, having worked up an appetite, instant porridge and a couple of Scotch pancakes never tasted better. Breakfast over and done with it was back onto more familiar roads for the last few miles, heading for home via the river Test, Stockbridge and one last slog of a climb out of Whitchurch. Considering I was in two minds over going out due to the strong winds, I'm certainly glad that I did as it was a great little overnight adventure, made even better by the fact I stayed warm and dry. I really should get the Bivvy stuff out more often as it's always great fun, provided it's not raining of course! After an afternoon at home catching up on the odd jobs, I took the van up to Kingsclere for the evening, ready for a few miles of easy running in the morning. It's a far more relaxed start to the day, when all you've got to do is get out of bed, put your running shoes on and set off, plus it's always nice to sit by the side of the van and watch the sun go down. A far better use of an evening than sitting staring at the TV in my opinion, but that's another discussion altogether.. There's not a great deal to say about Sunday. Following the now familiar trend, it rained heavily overnight and was blowing a hooley in the morning.
Despite the poor conditions and somewhat tired legs I managed a steady 12 miles along familiar tracks and trails, enjoying the early morning peace and quiet and was back home in plenty of time for lunch and an afternoon stroll along the Canal with "The Emma". Not a bad few days off then and if the truth be told I could do with a couple of days back in work to let my legs recover! |
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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