Every now and then I seem to get lucky and this was one of those weekends. Starting with the few days of leave I randomly put in for a year ago, actually coinciding with some of the nicest weather so far. Keen as always to take advantage of a couple of days off, I had the van loaded and a full weekend of fun planned, starting with a cycling jaunt down to Swanage on Friday. I'd plotted a nice little route, starting from Awbridge just outside Romsey, heading down through the New Forest, Wimborne and Corfe Castle to Swanage before returning along the coast via Poole and Bournemouth. Which, if I didn't cheat and take the ferry across from Swanage to Poole, looked like a fair 200Km. Having had a quiet night tucked away in a car park in Awbridge (with the permission of Brian the Caretaker, who I found to be a jolly nice chap) I was up and on the road for 06:45 on what promised to be a scorcher of a day. I had a pretty good idea that it was going to be hot when I set off wearing just a T shirt. I'd normally have at least a couple of layers on and be feeling the cold at that time in the morning, so to be about as naked as one can be when riding a bike and not be feeling cold was pretty unusual! As is the norm at stupid O'Clock in the morning the roads were deserted and I made quick progress through the New Forest. I've said before that I'm not a massive fan of this area, thinking it's a bit overrated, but in the quiet of the morning with just the Ponies and wild cows for company, I wondered if I'd been a bit harsh in the past? By the time I'd got down to Wimborne the world was waking up and the traffic heading for the seaside steadily increased. Unfortunately, much as I try to stick to the little country lanes, occasionally you have to either cross the main roads, or join them for a short while, in order to get to your destination, and as I joined the A35 and A351 for short periods my speed was reduced to that of the car traffic. It's not very often you can say as a cyclist that the cars are holding you up. It's normally the other way round, with the drivers being mildly inconvenienced for 30 seconds whilst they overtake. In this instance though I was certainly glad be be out in the warm sunshine, with the breeze in my face and not stuck in a tin can crawling along whilst worrying about trying to find a parking space with all the other beach lovers (please remind me of that next week when I'm moaning about getting wet again). By the time I reached Corfe Castle at about 10:00 the main road was totally gridlocked with beach bound traffic, sitting slowly overheating in the sun. Luckily, or maybe not so, dependent on your way of thinking, my route took the narrow, yet stupidly hilly, back road option and as I gently sweated my way uphill the fleeting thought did cross my mind that maybe I was the idiot and maybe sitting in Traffic was the better option! Of course sitting in traffic is never the better option and despite the uphill struggle I was probably on my way home again before most of those people I'd passed had got there and found a parking space. Swanage itself was heaving and I didn't hang around, a quick photo of the sea to prove to "The Emma", disbelieving soul that she is, that I'd actually been there, refill the water bottles and off again. That's more than enough time at the beach for my liking. It was not long after leaving Swanage and about as far away from the Van or home that I could possibly be that good luck, or not as the case may be, occurred and the rear gear cable decided that being one length of cable wasn't as good as being two. How is that lucky I hear you ask? Well, I've religiously carried a spare cable and 2 multi-tools (one with a set of pliers on) along with a whole host of other useful but never used items around with me for the last few years. Every now and then I look at them and think "do I really need to lug that around with me? Whats the chances of needing to change a gear cable at the side of the road"? Well, that's the second one I've changed at the roadside now, the first being in the middle of nowhere on my way from Lands End to John O Groats. Granted I could just change them every now and then just in case, reducing the likelyhood of snapping. But I'm an engineer and I just know deep down, that never works! Either way, 20 minutes later, having utalised all my tools I was back on the road. No need to call for rescue, no need to struggle back home in just one gear and another disaster averted. I've even replaced the spare in my bag just in case and won't be thinking about loosing that bit a weight for a while longer! Coming back along the coast it was interesting to see the number of cruise ships laying unused at anchor out in The Solent. I suppose the Coronovirus palaver has effectively put a stop to cruising, like so many other things. But, seeing the millions of pounds worth of massive ships, sat bobbing around unused was a bit of a shocker and a site not normally seen on the South Coast. If nothing else it gave me something else to think about as I slogged along the coast road with all the other road users (certainly not my best bit of route planning I must admit, and a mistake I hopefully won't make again in a hurry). Once I was away from the coast it was just another couple of pleasant hours, plodding back up through the New Forest, enjoying the cool of the forest areas after the heat of the open coast roads and not having to worry quite so much about frustrated car drivers. A smidge over 10 hours for 128 miles, including replacing the gear cable, that's not a bad day out by my books and being back at the van in time for a bit of tea and a cold beer sat in the evening sun definitely made the early start worthwhile. Considering I was on the edge of the New Forest it seemed rude to not stay another night and have an early run on Saturday morning, although I must confess that my legs thought differently and it was a bit of a struggle to get going in the morning. Get going eventually I did though, and although hard going on tired legs I had a great couple of hours following little paths and tracks through the forest and heath for just under 10 miles, which was more than enough. Unfortunately, I needed to be in Bristol for work Monday morning, so putting part 2 of my weekend plan into operation I spent the first part of Saturday afternoon travelling up to Chepstow, which is no where near Bristol, but I'd got a cheeky little cycling route lined up for Sunday and it's closer to Bristol than home. Whilst hunting round for somewhere to hole up in the van I came across a sign for the Wye Valley Walk, well I say came across, what I actually mean was I unknowingly parked up right beside it. Always up for a bit of exploration I thought I'd wander down the marked way, which looked pretty unappetising, running between a school and some houses. Boy, I'm glad I did though, I'd not gone 100 yards when the path became a track running along the side of a steeply wooded gorge following the river Wye. In all I wandered along for 6 or 7 miles following the track up and down on it's meandering path, stopping to stare at the imposing vistas which occasionally appeared through the trees. A little bit of Googling shows that the Wye Valley path runs for 138 miles from its source near Aberystwyth, through Rhayader, Builth Wells, Monmouth, Ross-on-Wye and onward to Chepstow, all of which are lovely little places in their own right. 136 miles is a good week's walk if your backpacking, and looking at the route it takes in a bit more detail, this is definitely one to keep in mind to do as soon as the opportunity arises and if the rest of it is as picturesque as the Chepstow end it will be a real treat. As I mentioned earlier, the whole point in coming to Chepstow (if we ignore the work word) was for a bit of Cycling and Sundays planned route took me from Chepstow up to the North of Abergavenny to loop around the base of the Brecon Beacons before coming back down again. Always a glutton for punishment I knew this was going to be a hard day out from the start, the climb out of Chepstow is enough to make you think twice and that's the easy bit, up into the Brecon Beacons and the final climb back into Chepstow the work really begins. Another early start meant I had the long hard slog out of Chepstow all to myself, but also meant that I had the downhills to myself too and could just let the bike roll whilst keeping an eye out for potholes and wildlife. It's not very often that you don't have to worry about traffic coming behind (or in front of you) and I made full use of the opportunity, building up a good sweat on the uphills and feeling the still chill air quickly cooling my sweaty body on the fast downhills. Through Abergavenny before the motor bikers came out and onward up into the Brecon Beacons, with the sun still low in the sky and the dew still on the ground the hills looked magnificent and I soon forgot about the complaints from my tired legs as I took in the scenery opening out around me.
The Brecon Beacons are a beautiful part of the country and like many such areas, too steep to turn over to mechanised farming, they have retained their old world charm, with little farmhouses, sheep dogs out waiting for their masters to begin their days work and small isolated fields supporting a plethora of wildlife, these parts of the country deserve a special place in our hearts and history. As you can no doubt guess, I was in my element, totally absorbed in the scenery and having the time of my life. The 20 odd miles between Abergavenny and Crickhowell must rate as some of the most scenic cycling I've done, and I've rattled up a few miles over the years. OK the roads aren't the best and it's pretty hilly, so your going to need a good level of fitness and stamina to enjoy it, but, and it's a big but, it's days like that, that make all the days out in the rain and wind worthwhile!
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As I mentioned last week I've been off work this week and whilst the weathers not been particularly good (I've got wet more times than I care for) I have been getting out and about. I'm not going to write reams about my weeks activities, instead here's a few things that have caught my eye during my travels. Not a bad week off then despite the weather, 430 miles cycled, 30 odd miles run, 2 nights out bivvying and 4 in the van, a trip down to see the "Old Cheese" for the first time since we were all confined to Barracks, a bit of time spent of the Allotment and a few other odd jobs wrapped up.
Guess I'd better go back to work for a rest! Whilst it's not been officially announced it would seem that the lock-down is over, at least in England it is anyway. Last weeks sunshine saw an estimated ½ million people on the beach in Bournmouth, rioting in Brixton and the announcement that; that most British of institutions, the Great British Pub, would be reopening from July 4th. So, bearing all that in mind, and considering what's good for the Goose is also good for the Gander, it's time to start having some sensible, socially distanced adventures, all perfectly timed for me having a week off. “Ding Dang Do” as they say up North. Where do I start though? The Van's not been slept in since the first weekend in March, my Hammock and Bivvy's not been used in anger yet this year, the bike miles are way down on last year, and as for walking, well I've not even got my boots on yet, let alone started making any decent mileage. Bearing all this in mind I'd been keeping a keen watch on the weather all week and whilst gently boiling through the working week, things weren't looking so promising for the weekend. Never mind, mind made up, I was going out to play come what may. I loaded the bike Thursday night, made a special effort to ensure the garden and green house had enough water to last until Saturday and I spent most of Friday watching the clock slowly tick round to 17:00. At which point, as Murry Walker was so fond of saying “and their off”! Whilst my little adventure may not be quite within the scope of the law (Covid or otherwise), and never will be until they change the English countryside access laws to reflect those in Scotland, one little old me, on my own, on my bike, has got to be better than 300 people queuing to get into Primark, or 5,000 people jumping around outside Anfield in the week celebrating some football win or another. I'd scoped out a nice little 110 mile route a few weeks back with plenty of secluded Bivvying opportunities along the way ready for just this day, and by leaving late on Friday and getting an early start on Saturday morning I was pretty confidant that I could do the whole thing without seeing another person, let alone having to infiltrate their 2m social exclusion zone. Friday evening rolled around and things were looking good, the weather was still glorious with plenty of late evening sunshine and warm temperatures, the roads were quiet and I thoroughly enjoyed whiling away the hours and miles. Slowly feeling the worries of the working week ebb away with every pedal revolution as my thoughts turned to future adventures and the world around me. With 55 Miles under my belt for the evening and having not seen another person or car for the best part of 30 minutes, I found a nice little spot, well off the beaten track to pitch my hammock, debating for some time whether to bother putting up the tarp. It was after all a lovely evening and it didn't look like the forecast storms were going to materialise. In the end common sense won the argument, and I'm certainly glad that it did, as by midnight it was raining hard, and proceeded to continue on and off well into Saturday afternoon. Snug and dry in my little home from home, I had a pretty good nights sleep considering. Although, I was woken around 04:00 by some fellow Bivvy enthusiasts (our friends in the Army) practice firing what sounded like heavy artillery some miles away. I can well imagine their annoyance at spending Saturday night, in the rain, out on Salisbury Plain, loading artillery shells for some well imagined exercise, and once I'd got over the initial shock and decided that it wasn't incoming, and that I wasn't down range of their target, it was quite a nice feeling knowing that I wasn't the only idiot out there. Although I will confess that I was probably the only idiot out there by choice. By the time it got light, the rain had eased off to a drizzle and I took the opportunity to get an early start and pack up in the dry(ish). It didn't last long though and by the time I stopped to make a brew and grab a bite to eat an hour or so after setting off the rain was back with a vengeance. Once your wet your wet though, and you can't get any wetter, so you might as well make the most of it, and make the most of it I certainly did. Whilst cycling in the rain isn't the best experience ever, I had an enjoyable few hours plodding through the Hampshire countryside, alone, with just my thoughts and the gentle patter of rain dripping off my helmet and onto the end of my nose for company. As I stood in the kitchen, a couple of hours later, stripping off my wet clothes, my wet feet leaving footprints on the door mat “The Emma” greeted with with the normal welcome of “have you had a good time?” Having thought about it for a millisecond, there was only one answer “Yes I have”. Rain or not, it was good to be back out, and you really can't beat a Friday night mini adventure, for getting the weekend off to a good start! Having broken my duck Friday night, I thought the van deserved a go, a spot of tea at home and then the short trip up to one my favorite little spots, for a shake down night out and hopefully a bit of early morning running seemed like a sensible plan. Most of Saturday afternoon was spent sorting out a few last minute odd jobs; Sterilising the water system, refitting the newly painted wheels, finding the pillow cases, cleaning out the cool box and generally getting things back ship shape after the extended lay off and tidying up after the other jobs I've done over the past few weeks. By 20:00 I was parked up for the night, along with a couple of other like minded lunatics who'd beaten me there, safely ensconced, once again, in the vans loving embrace. Firing up the kettle in the van always evokes memories, there's something about the smell of the gas, the sound of the kettle rattling on the hob and then the whistle as it boils, that instantly transports me back to being a child on family caravanning holidays or camping with “The Boy”. I can't think of many other smells or sounds that hold such strong memories, but that one always gets me, and whilst not a pleasant evening weather wise, it was great to be back sat in the van, making new memories to the continuing sound of the kettle boiling. No TV or other distractions, just reminiscing and contemplating the world around me as the evening slowly turned to night and bed time came a calling. The weather God's must have felt sorry for me after Saturdays soaking, as I woke to the sun shining through the van windows, and the gentle sound of a full blown gale ripping across the roof, well we can't have everything can we, it is the weekend after all! Best make the most of it then before it starts raining, so a quick bit of breakfast and then out for a cheeky 16 mile jaunt around the footpaths and trails that I'm coming to know so well.
Having managed to leave my watch at home I've no idea how long I was out for, but I do know that it made a nice change to not be constantly checking the distance covered, distance to go and time. Maybe I should just leave my watch at home more often, its another bit of self imposed pressure, and removing that constant reminder of time was quite liberating. I never wear a watch the rest of the time so why do I need to wear one when I'm running? Maybe it's just to stoke my own ego and see how fast I am, or how far I've been? However long I was out for (and I'm guessing it was just over 2 hours) my earlier praise to the God of weather must have fallen on deaf ears, as it managed to throw it down just as I got back to the van, whilst still ensuring I was far enough away when it started to get wet for the second time in one weekend. See, I keep telling you that the weather does it intentionally, but no one ever believes me! And that was about it for another weekend, the afternoon being spent making Raspberry jam with the glut of Raspberries from the allotment and tidying the garage and workshop so I can get in them again, ready for the start of the next project. Not to worry though, now I've had a taste of adventure there's going to be no stopping me (unless it keeps on raining). It's been a good weekend considering the ongoing situation, the weathers been lovely, the birds are singing, it's not been blowing a gale for a change and I've been having fun even if no one else has. After another busy week at work I managed to get out for a few hours on the bike after tea on Friday. Now the evenings are getting lighter and the suns shining, it seems rude not to take advantage of the traffic free roads and bang in a few quick miles. I always think there's something extra nice about the early morning and evening, the light's a lot less harsh than full daylight and the shadows do some interesting things, plus the animals tend to be more active so there's normally more to catch your attention. With 35 more miles to add to the years total, followed by an early night, ready for a full weekend of fun, in my humble opinion far better than sitting staring at the idiot box on a Friday night! After my early night on Friday I was up and raring to go with the lark, to be honest it's more likely to be a Pigeon or Blackbird than a lark where I live, but, whatever sort of bird it is, I was up with it and ready to leave the house by 07:30. Why the early start you may ask? Well Saturday was scheduled for the inaugural running of the Basingstoke Socially Distanced Trail Marathon. Participants - 1 (Just me). It should have been The Fox Ultra but like everything else the Coronovirus kerfuffle has put pay to that, so in order to keep my 2020 Marathon a Month attempt alive, it was going to have to be a self supported, keep out of everyone's way, law profile, individual effort. Putting my local knowledge to good use, I managed to come up with a route that used mainly local (ish) footpaths, interlinked with a few quiet country lanes, and knew from previous experience that provided I got an early start and got out of town before the masses woke up I could do pretty much the entire distance without seeing another person. Maybe not totally in line with leaving your house for daily exercise, but in my opinion, more responsible than driving to a busy beauty stop to "empty your dog" along with everyone else! In fact, it worked a treat, and apart from the mile or so close to home I think I saw 2 other people the whole time I was out, and we managed to give each other a wide berth with no problems. So how did it go then? Well, the day started off chilly and overcast (ideal running weather) and stayed that way for most of the morning, with the sun breaking through just as I finished. The route I'd planned was great; hilly, interesting and scenic, with lots of Bluebells out in the wooded areas, plenty of wildlife to catch your eye and lots of Lambs frolicking in the fields. The few short road sections were car free, the footpaths dry and not yet overgrown with nettles, and, despite some sharp climbs, almost the entire distance was runnable. Not having anyone to race against I took it easy and enjoyed the morning, stopping a few times to take photos or grab a snack, not the normal "full gas" method of running a marathon, but one which made for a far more pleasurable experience. I certainly enjoyed my morning out a lot more than I often have when running an organised event. Yes, having no support means you are totally self reliant and there's no one to pick you up if it goes a bit wrong or you decide it's all too hard. But, at the same time there's no pressure to finish in a set time, there's no one to race against and it's totally stress free. So, with a finish time of 3:59:25 for the 26.2 miles, not only have I run a sub four hour off road trail marathon, but I'm now the course record holder for the Basingstoke Socially Distanced Trail Marathon and maybe less surprisingly I came in first place! Now I just need to transfer that to an event with more than 1 participant and I'll be a real winner. Never knowing when I've had enough and with it being forecast for a nice night I got the hammock out for a bit of "Backyard Camping" Saturday night. After a glorious, sunny and clear afternoon the night was picture perfect and despite the background street lighting and plethora of security lights in the locality doing their best to drown them out, there were plenty of stars shining brightly above my head. There's something special about bedding down with nothing overhead, the feel of the chill night air against your face and an unobstructed view up to the heavens. It never takes me long to get off to sleep but even in the ten minutes or so between bedding down and unconsciousness I saw enough to make the sleep out worthwhile and waking up to the sun gently warming your face and the birds singing definitely makes for a worthwhile experience. I suppose it would be rude not to wrap up this weeks installment without a quick mention of the allotment, a few pictures and a thank you to the scrote's that thought it necessary to break into half the sheds this week. If you really think I'm stupid enough to leave anything of value in my shed your even more stupid than I thought, that's why the bolts just held on with a piddly little screw that pulls out and not a big iron bar.
Oh, and as the only thing I can't find since your little visit is the worlds shittest screwdriver (that was in the shed because it was no use for undoing any screws) I hope you enjoy rounding the heads off your screws or trying to stab your mates with it and have as much luck with that as the last thing I had stolen (a bike with no brakes, enjoy falling off that!). It's not been the Easter break I had planned, but it's not been a bad 4 days off despite the Coronovirus horrors. I had originally planned on doing a bit of cycle touring until the big lock down put pay to those plans. Instead it's been 4 days of odd jobs, pottering around and trying to get a bit of outdoor exercise whilst working around the restrictions. The outstandingly good weather (we'll pretend Monday didn't happen) has helped make things a bit more bearable. That's 2 years on the trot that Easter has been nice, helped I suppose, by it being towards the end of the window that it can fall in. All a bit different to 2018 when it rained so hard that I spent 2 days cycling in washing up gloves as it was the only way I could keep my hands dry. It seemed a real shame to waste the good weather and miss out on all the camping fun, plus I'd heard that lots of kids were having sleep out's and as they say "If you can't beat them you might as well join them". So, despite some serious mocking from "The Emma" I did have a night in the hammock in the back garden, it might not be proper camping, but it's still more of an adventure than "The Emma" had so mock away I say! In between a bit of gentle running and cycling I've managed to squeeze in a bit of time on the allotment. Apparently it's traditional to plant potatoes on Good Friday. Although I've no idea why as Easter moves around and I've finally managed to get 6 rows of Red Main Crop spuds in. It's surprising how wet the ground still is once you get through the now rock hard, sun baked skin and it took 2 sessions of hard digging to get them all in. It's a shame I'll have forgotten about the backbreaking work by the time their on my plate! All the summer bedding has been pricked out in to individual pots for growing on and is currently being burned to a crisp in the green house and I've potted on the cabbages. Another couple of weeks and they will be ready to go out, so I had better get my finger out and crack on with the remainder of the digging. I've got a few other odd jobs wrapped up around the house too, so hopefully that will give me a bit more time for "playing out" once the lock down finally ends. Other than that, there's not much to report. The rest of the weekend has been taken up with the normal mix of cooking, cleaning, general pottering around and sitting in the sun drinking tea and eating Easter eggs. Not a bad life is it!
Well, at long last it seems to have temporarily stopped raining and that means normal service can resume. So, with Saturday dawning dry (well it wasn't actually raining, although it had rained for most of the night), it was winter cycling gear on and out for a few chilly miles. I didn't go far as I had bigger plans for most of the day, but still managed 60 miles, out via Kinsgsclere, up to the edge of Hungerford and back via Whitchurch, nothing to strenuous, but a good leg stretch none the less and good to be out. With the cycling fun over for the day by lunchtime, it left me plenty of time to put part B of my weekend plans into operation. So, say hello to "the Emma", a quick shower, bit of lunch, sort out of the walking and overnight Bivvy kit, say goodbye to "the Emma" and I'm good to go again. OK, it wasn't actually that quick, but by 15:30 I was on my way to the station, with the plan being to get the train to Winchester and walk back home again, via Alresford, taking the opportunity of a dry night too try out my new winter sleeping bag. The 16:00 train from Basingstoke got me into Winchester for half past and I set off, aiming to pick up the start of the South Downs Way, for an easy start in the right direction. I must confess that I did have a moment of "what the hell am I doing" as I walked through Winchester, passing all the pubs full of people enjoying a post shopping pint, or getting started on their nights out, as I set out for a few hours of walking in the dark and the prospect of a possibly cold night. It didn't take long to put those fleeting thoughts to the back of my mind though and remind myself that I was more likely to remember my night out in a years time than they were their's, and this is far more fun than another wasted day, feeling shabby from a few too many the night before! Quickly out of town and onto the South Downs Way proper, I made good progress, the path here was wide enough and sufficiently well trodden that I could find my way without resorting to a torch, the background light being sufficient to see the way and I plodded steadily on for a couple of hours before stopping for a brew and a tin of hot Mulligatawny soup for my tea. You could say, and you would probably be right, that it's not haute-cuisine, but that tin of soup, sat in the dark, in total silence, with just the stars for company, was up there with some of the best meals I've ever had. Anyone can go and eat in a top notch restaurant, but it takes a special kind of idiot to eat soup out of a saucepan, with a cut down desert spoon, in the middle of nowhere, in November! By 20:30 I was a mile or so from Alresford, with 12 miles under my belt since leaving home and having just had a bit of a navigation blunder, getting disorientated in the dark, whilst looking for a path, decided to call it a night and get my head down. Bivvy up, tucked away under some trees, I was tucked up in bed by 21:00, laying, quietly listening to the owl's calling and some church bells tolling the time away in the distance, as I drifted off to sleep. I stirred a few times in the night and the sky had cleared, with less light pollution, the stars were bright and clearly visible and being clear the temperature had rapidly dropped (not that it was very warm to start with). I slept well though, the new sleeping bag performing better than expected, and, whilst the temperature must have dropped to close to freezing I stayed warm and snug. Early to bed and early to rise, I was up again for 06:00 and on my way by half past, with a frost on the ground, the sun just coming up and views like these to speed me on my way, I couldn't have asked for a better start to the day. A brief stop for breakfast just before Alresford, and the chance to stock up on some cookies for brew o'clock on the way through, saw me picking up the Wayfarers walk path for the journey home, cutting steadily through the Hampshire countryside with just the birds, sunshine and a couple of mountain bikers for company. Home again by mid afternoon, with 28 miles of enjoyable walking and a late Autumn frosty night out under my belt, I don't think that's a bad way to waste 24 hours and hopefully a bit more memorable than a few pints, a kebab and a hangover!
I spent most of last week with an eye on the weather forecast, wondering if the weekend was going to be another wash out, holding off on making any firm plans until the last minute in the hope the forecast would get better. By Friday the early week predictions of doom and gloom had changed to "it might not be too bad" so I thought I'd better make up for last weekends lack of cycling and get out on my bike. To make the most of the weekend I came up with a plan to get out straight from work on Friday night with the Bivvy kit, get a few miles in with an overnight stop, then head for home Saturday morning, all I needed was the weather to play ball. Friday morning dawned bright and still and I spent the day at work enjoying the sun thinking myself lucky that I don't have to spend my days sat in a windowless office. Obviously that was too good to be true and by the time I got home it was back to raining with a rapidly strengthening wind! Not to be disheartened though it looked like there might be a gap in the rain early evening, it looked dry further North and the wind was going to be behind me on the way out, so that was it, decision made, bike packed and as soon as the rain eased go for it! Unusually that worked a treat and I managed to get away dry and stay dry. A couple of hours of enjoyable cycling later and I was sat in the square in Watlington enjoying a portion of chips for my tea and watching the world go by, there's defiantly worse ways than this to spend a Friday evening. Fed, watered and dressed for the rapidly decreasing temperatures I knocked off another couple of hours along dark country lanes, before finding a nice quiet spot to get my head down. The sky was totally clear and as always it was an amazing feeling laying in my Bivvy, looking out at the stars, listening to the odd rustle as the little creatures went about their business, probably wondering what this impostor was doing in the middle of their patch, seeing the long grass silhouetted by the moon and feeling the chill air on my face whilst snug and warm in my sleeping bag. Saturday dawned cold and clear and once packed up, with a hot cup of tea inside me, I was on the road by 07:00. A stop for breakfast sitting in the sun and an extra stop for a brew and biscuit on the way home still saw me back home for lunch time, leaving the afternoon clear for chores and other domestic bliss (A.K.A the hell of Tesco). And whats not to like about that, an ideal way to get a few bike miles in when most people are sat watching TV or laying in bed thinking about getting up. A beautiful night sky, great sunrise and an extra few hours on quiet roads before everyone gets up to go shopping, chips for tea, porridge in the sun for breakfast and a great Friday night mini adventure. Not a bad use of my time! Sunday morning was all about running, with a cheeky 20 mile off road loop from Kingsclere planned (part of the route I'd been to have a look at last weekend). In order to get an early start and make the most of the day I'd taken the van up to my planned start point Saturday night after tea and was up and raring to go well before 08:00. Despite clear skys at bedtime it had clouded over in the night and whilst still dry, it was a cold and grey typical Autumn morning by the time I got going. It's surprising how far 20 miles actually is once you get going and whilst nearly all off road the route regularly crossed bits of road I often travel on my bike, giving brief moments of "I know where I am" before dropping back onto footpaths, rough tracks and byways before popping out at a high spot and another go of "I know where I am", all pleasant stuff and helps to make the time go by. It's a nice little run this one, dropping slowly downhill for the first 10 miles from the high point at White hill down to a low at Ashe before a final 10 miles back up and an evil leg killer of a climb at 19.5 miles, just what you need to finish off tired legs. 20 easy miles then, in a smidgen over 3 hours, not a bad mornings work, with plenty of muddy bits, some lovely views and Autumn colours on display and a few cheeky hills to make it fun. And the best bit, getting up and out early not only gives you the best bit of the day but I was back home in time for a very pleasant lunch with the lovely Emma. Everyone's a winner! A couple of easy hours on the allotment Sunday afternoon saw the last of the tomatoes picked and the plants composted, Squashes picked and moved into the cold frame to hopefully harden off and broad beans planted to over winter. I've planted 2 rows of dwarf broad beans this year, one under a cloche and one not as a bit of an experiment, so watch this space in 7 or 8 months for the results. I seem to think that there's an old wives tale about lots of berries = a hard winter. If the ones below are anything to go by then we had better watch out, I can't recall seeing sloes loaded on a bush like these very often!
Unusually, or maybe not for September, which is often quite nice, the weather was predicted to be good again at the weekend, and as my latest acquisition had arrived in the week it seemed a shame not to get out and give it a trial. Knowing that we've probably not got many more warm days or nights left this year, I'd remortgaged the house, tried to sell "The Emma" and splashed out in the week on a new Sleeping mat. Allegedly this was going to be the end of cold nights and offer the best sleeping experience ever, although that's not hard compared to a good old foam roll mat, which is all the military think you will ever need, but we shall see and I'm not holding my breath! I'd come up with what I hoped would be a nice little route for a Friday night and Saturday cycling mini adventure, so I was out of work like the proverbial whatsit through a goose, bike already packed and on the road for 17:00 on a glorious early autumn evening. Plodding along at a steady pace, stopping only to sort out a puncture (unusually the inner tube split along the join), grab a brew and eat my tea, (left over pasta from the night before if you must know). All of which, helpfully, coincided nicely with putting on a few more layers and sitting out the bit of twilight that I always think is the most hazardous "Sorry mate I didn't see you with your multiple lights and bright clothes in the not quite dark", the evening turned into a beautiful, still and clear night. As it gets dark, the world is transformed around you, the road narrows to the area you can see in your lights, you begin to hear the calls of the owl's replacing the daytime birds, and become aware of the rustle of other unseen creatures in the hedgerows. You soon notice the considerable temperature difference between the high and low ground and feel the chilled air coming from rivers and streams, all things you would never notice from a car, cocooned inside your warm sphere with the radio on and the engine noise drowning out the passing world. Pushing on until about 22:00 I found an out of the way spot to spend the night and with the new Sleeping mat inflated and waiting to welcome me, was tucked up in my Bivvy by 23:00. To say it was a beautiful night though would be an understatement, the moon was full and with a clear sky lit the world in a beautiful pale light, silhouetting the trees against the sky and casting long dark shadows. laying watching the stars, snug in my sleeping bag, I would struggle to think of somewhere I would rather be, better in my opinion that the finest hotels. Up again at first light and on my way again soon after, there was a definite chill in the air, half an hour or so on the road to warm up and a breakfast of porridge by the roadside set me up well for the push back home though. Slowly loosing the layers as the morning progressed I was soon back to shorts and a T shirt, cruising sedately through the countryside, breathing in the smells of the approaching autumn and admiring the slowly changing colours of the trees, for an uneventful ride towards home. I paused for a while towards the top of the Devils Punch Bowl to chat with a delightful fellow Audaxer. You can normally tell the long distance cyclists, they're the ones that look like tramps on a bike, with a mix of well worn and heavily faded high end kit, matched with things from the pound shop. Probably riding a bike from a manufacturer that no one else will ever have heard of, fitted with a totally random set of bits (Aero bars on your touring bike sir?). Everything though will be focused on comfort and will have been worked out during many long miles sat on their leather saddle. If you ask where they are off too, you'll probably get a non committal answer that could mean anything from, I'm just off to the shops (despite the fact the nearest shops are 30 miles away) to I'm just back from riding around the world. Despite stopping talking, stopping for brews, stopping to pick blackberries, stopping for biscuits, stopping to look at random stuff and just stopping because my legs weren't really feeling it, I was back home putting the kettle on ("The Emma's" gone away for a reunion so I had to make my own tea) in time for a late lunch. Not a bad day out if I do say so myself, and better than sitting at home, watching repeats on the magic picture box. After an afternoon catching up on a few odd jobs around the house and with no Emma to amuse me, I was soon back to pacing around like a caged gibbon. With there being nothing to keep me at home it was pretty easy to make a last minute decision to grab some running kit and the van and head up to Kingsclere to watch the sun go down and get in a few miles running along the Wayfarers walk in the morning. Being a clear night and with a better vantage point than Friday night, I was treated to not only a stupendous sunset, but getting to see the moon rising over the hill from the other direction, slowly getting bigger and brighter and fading the stars out with its extreme luminescence. A great nights sleep and back up in time to watch the sun doing the same trick as the moon had managed the night before, brew in hand, a smile on my face and a great start to the day, it doesn't get much better than that. After another brew and breakfast sat in the early morning sun I was good to go by 08:00, well before it got too warm and all the dog botherer's with their mile long extendable leads, perfectly designed to trip you up, and out of control hounds arrived. It was a beautiful morning for running and with some stunning scenery to look at and E.L.O playing quietly in my ears (Mr Blue Sky anyone) the 15 mile target for the day was quickly knocked off and I was back at the van by 10:15, cooling down sat in the sun, with a brew on, big smile on my face and feet up. More importantly though, my dodgy left ankle seemed to hold up fairly well, although Monday morning will be the telling point once it's had a chance to stiffen up, but hopefully, 16 weeks (not that I'm counting) after finally admitting it was bolloxed, I seem to be getting somewhere. Not a bad weekend out and about then, and by being the early bird I still had time to catch the worm. Although not fancying worms for tea, I opted to spend the afternoon on the allotment, creosoting the shed and pottering about. Oh, and the Sleeping mat, well it felt pretty good, very comfortable considering its only 6.5cm thick and weighs 700g, it wasn't actually that cold though, so we will have to wait and see how well insulated it actually is.
And my new Audax friend, well, he told me all about a couple of people he was friends with that had walked lands from End to John-o-Groats. Now if I had a bucket list and a couple of months spare! |
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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