A different approach to my blog writing this week as you'll see below. Whilst the words below have been edited for spelling, that's all I've done since I wrote them. So if bits don't make sense, it's because I was probably cold and wet when I wrote them. I think it's a more authentic take on my thoughts at the time to leave any grammar errors, tense, and context changes in place though.
Right, this is about the stupidest idea I've ever had, but here goes. It's Easter, which means Adventure time. I've got a full week off and whilst I'm not planning on spending the entire week adventuring, I'm not planning on spending it sitting at home either.
To that end, I came up with a brilliant plan to tie in a bit of walking, a bit of bivvying, and the chance to have a look at what will hopefully be a long run in the summer, all in one go, and walk the 77 mile Pewsey Vale Circular Way route. The only problem is, it's currently Thursday, which just happens to be the first day of my leave, and no one seems to have told the weather that it's supposed to be behaving. It's currently throwing it down with rain, which is forecast to continue for most of the day, and the winds going to pick up through the afternoon with gusts of 50MPH plus. I've never let the weather stop me before though, which is why it's currently 12:15 and I'm sat on a train heading for Hungerford. “The Emma” did offer to give me a lift all the way to the start, but starting an adventure from the car seems a bit rubbish, so I declined her kind offer, opting for the train instead, which seems a far more exciting and a far better way to set off. I'm going to try something new over the next few days if everything goes to plan, and have a go at writing my adventure up as I go. I've always written my days out up after the event, so this will hopefully be a bit different and might shed a different light on things. We'll see how we get on though, as I’m expecting this to be a difficult few days. As I've already mentioned, it's currently lashing it down, and the ground is already heavily waterlogged, so I'm expecting things to be cold, wet, and very muddy, which is going to be challenging. Even more so as my backpack weighs far more than I'm even remotely happy with, due to having to try and cater for every eventuality. Let's see how we get on then. Fingers crossed my knees will hold up with the extra weight, and the weather will improve. If I can just survive Thursday night into Friday morning then I think it'll be OK. But, as I said to “The Emma” when she dropped me off just now “I'll either see you tomorrow or Monday”. Right, the trains on the move, it's 12:22 on Thursday 28th March, let the adventure begin!
16:45 - Miles Covered 7
I've just stopped for a brew, 7 miles in, and it's all been kicking off in the last couple of hours. The wind is absolutely whistling through the trees, there's thunder rumbling around and its pretty grim. On the positive side, I stopped and watched a pair of Kites trying unsuccessfully to make progress against the wind, and I've seen a Hare and a couple of Deer braving the elements, so if they can do it, there's no reason why I can't.
19:00 - Miles Covered 12
I'm calling it a day at that, it's been pretty awful since my last update, with some really vicious, wind driven heavy rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning. Not long after my brew stop I got caught in a really exposed open section with the rain hammering down in sheets and thunder rumbling all around. Progress was almost impossible, and in the end I sought refuge on the Lee side of a handily abandoned water tank until the worst of it blew over. I stopped off briefly at the shop in Upper Bedwyn to pick up water to see me through the night (you wouldn't think that finding drinkable water would be such an issue would you), before pushing on up a heavily flooded woodland section, the top of which is where I've set up for the night. The wind is still roaring through the trees, but I've got my Hammock up and with the tarp set low overhead I'm dry, warm and hoping for a good night's sleep.
Friday 07:30 - Miles Covered 15.
Well that was a pretty good night all things considered. Being pitch dark and raining I was in bed for 20:00, which was nice. And although there was quite a lot more rain overnight I stayed dry and warm enough. It was still raining when the dawn chorus started, heralding the start of another day, but by 05:30 when it was light enough to see the rain had eased off, so I took the opportunity to pack up whilst it wasn't pissing it down and got on my way. It's continued to rain for the last hour or so, but it's currently stopped so I'm taking the opportunity to have a break and some breakfast, sitting just off the track overlooking the Kennet and Avon Canal, who's towpath I've followed for the last mile. It's a nice little spot too, sheltered from the wind with the birds singing. If it stays like this for a couple of hours I'll be more than happy.
10:15 - 19 Miles Covered
I've had to stop to pull a splinter out of my second toe. God knows how that got in there, but it's been annoying me for the last hour. While I'm stopped I'm treating myself to a bit of “The Emmas” home made flapjack that she made specially for me yesterday morning. There's no doubt about the fact that she's good to me. It's much needed calories too, as it's been a steady climb since I left the canal at Wooton Rivers, to get to 279m at Martinsell Hill. It's been worth the effort though as despite the overcast skies, the views are spectacular, with Marlborough on one side and Pewsey on the other. You can really get an appreciation of the route the canal takes from this vantage point as it threads its way along the flattest route.
14:00 - 27 Miles Covered
I've made steady progress through the morning, despite some heavy showers, one of which was more sleet than rain. This afternoon’s been pretty hilly, and had a fair bit of climbing, with the wind whistling round my walking poles and trying its best to push me off course. It's nearly always worth the effort of gaining height for the views that brings though, and this afternoon has been no exception. Between the squalls the sun's made the odd appearance, which has enhanced some lovely landscapes, and the wildlife seem to be making the most of the breaks in the rain too, including a large herd of deer busily munching their way across a field of crops which were clearly visible from my vantage point and worth wasting a few minutes of staring time on. I'm going to have a quick brew stop now before pushing on, with the aim being to get 20 miles today. The kettles on, I'm out the wind, my spare socks are hanging out to dry on my walking poles, there's a skylark flitting around just in front, and there's a lump of chocolate to accompany my brew. It doesn't get much better than this.
19:00 - Miles Covered 37.
Well that bit didn't quite go to plan. After my little brew stop the route came down off the highroad, which was really pleasant. The sun came out and as I got lower the wind wasn't quite so vicious, to the point that by late afternoon I was down to just a base layer and jumper for the first time since I'd set off. I'd set my sights on reaching All Cannings where according to Google there was a shop which was open until 18:30. My plan being to resupply the biscuit stash, top up the water and then find somewhere to stop for the night with a nice round 20 miles in my legs. Except, the shop didn't shut at 18:30 it shut at 16:00 and by the time I got there it was 16:30. Bollocks! I've mentioned before that the biggest problem when you're out and about is finding water. Biscuits I can live without, water on the other hand means no brews, no tea, no breakfast and bugger all else. I had a mooch around all the likely spots for a tap (Churchyard, village hall, school, etc) and whilst the church had a tap, it didn't have any water in it. Which left a dilemma. I either needed to knock on someone's door, which I'd rather not do as it inevitably leads to all the questions and instant suspicion that you're a crazed murderer (crazy yes, murderer no) or find a decent water supply that I could filter and boil. Looking at the map, there were a couple more small villages and then the route crossed the river Avon, which is fast flowing and normally clear and clean. So I pushed on, hoping to find a tap, but with the Avon as my backup. As expected, “Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink”. I was wading through the bloody stuff most of the time, but was any of it drinkable? Was it F***! The river Avon came to my salvation in the end, although it pushed the day's mileage up to 25 miles, and my feet were protesting by the time I did get there. Handily though, there was a nice little camp spot, right by the river, so I didn't have to go any further, and although the river looked a bit murky after all the rain, running it through my filter seems to have cleaned it up OK, and it's all getting boiled too, so I don't think that it'll kill me. So to that end, it's just after 20:00, I've had my tea and a brew, it's pitch dark and the stars are shining brightly, so I'm going to call it a day, and provided the river doesn't get any higher overnight, I'll see you in the morning.
10:00 Saturday - Miles Covered 42.
What a difference a day makes, I woke up this morning to a full orchestral recital courtesy of the dawn chorus. Peeking out from under my trusty tarp, the sky was just starting to lighten (not that it had been that dark overnight) and there was a light mist rising from the river in front of me. Venturing out from the warmth of my sleeping bag, it was a cold morning, not cold enough for a frost, but there was a definite chill in the air, but it held the promise of being a far better day than Thursday and Friday had been. By the time I’d had a brew and breakfast the sun was bright in the sky. A sight I don't seem to have seen in quite some time, and although the ground was still saturated and there was a heavy dew, things were looking good. A few easy miles to warm my legs up got things off to a good start, and by the time I started the long steady climb to take me up to the fringes of Salisbury Plain I was down to just my base layer and jumper and enjoying the feeling of the sun in my face. A further few miles along the Salisbury Plain perimeter track (it’s got a name but I’m blown if I can remember what it is), has got me to here, where I’m having a brew, second breakfast and doing my best tramp impression with all the wet gear billowing from a handy fence, making best use of the sun and wind to try and dry everything out.
14:00- Miles Covered 50.
Afternoon brew time, and the miles are fairly flying along, helped along by the sun beating down. In fact at times, mostly when I’ve been toiling up yet another hill, it’s been almost too warm, but I’m certainly not complaining about that. I’m sat here waiting for the water to boil with my boots off, a dry pair of socks on, courtesy of the wind and sun, and having a whale of a time. It’s surprising how different the world looks when it’s not raining. The fields to the side of the track’s which yesterday looked drab and waterlogged, look far better today, and this afternoon I’ve seen a couple of farmers working Oil Seed Rape fields which are just starting to come into blossom. I’ve also seen 3 different types of Butterfly today, which are the first ones I’ve seen this year. As I’ve already said, it’s amazing the difference a little bit of sun makes.
18:45 - Miles Covered 57
That’s going to do for today, after yesterday's near marathon effort, I’m going to call it quits at 20 miles and chill out for a bit. Plus I’ve found a nice little spot for the night, and having just lugged an extra 2Kg of water up a massive hill, to see me through the night, it’s time for a break. It’s been a far better day today and I’ve really enjoyed the walking. It’s been lovely to be able to look across the Kennet valley to where I was yesterday, heading in the other direction and see the White Horse cut into the hillside that I passed within meters off yesterday lunchtime, and to pick out the hills and landscape that I slowly traversed, in the distance. The landscape has been different today as I’ve worked my way around the edges of Salisbury plain. More rolling and arable farmland than the canals and steep sided hills from yesterday, which has been pleasant in the spring sunshine. I’m going to have to leave it there for today as my tea’s ready, and it’s too dark to type. But the blue sky is being replaced with the black of night, the first stars are just making an appearance and I’ve just seen my first bat of the year, so that’s another first. I must remember that the clocks change tonight, not that it makes any difference when you go to bed when it gets dark and get up at dawn, but time still has some meaning, no matter how much I wish it didn't!
Sunday 11:30 (New time) - Miles covered 66
Brew time with 9 miles under my belt already. The miles seem to have come easily this morning. The weather’s not so good with the wind back to haunt me, although it's not as bad as Thursday/Friday, and it's overcast with a forecast of rain for later, but we'll see what happens. I had a great night's sleep last night, tucked away on the edge of some woods. With no rain forecast I took the risk of not putting the tarp up, and there's something absolutely magical about laying in the Hammock, swinging gently in the breeze and looking up through the trees to the stars above. Even when you wake up in the night (which isn't unusual) and you can make out the outline of the trees silhouetted by the moonlight and hear the barking of deer in the distance and the closer call of owls above and scurrying of the little critters in the scub below your Hammock, it's something to relish, and makes me realise how lucky I am to be able to do the things that I do. Whilst I'm talking about realising things. It's been fascinating to pick up on the landscape around me and realise how it interlinks. There's been a few occasions over the last couple of days when I've thought, “I've been here before on some adventure or another'' or popped out at a road crossing and thought “Ahh, I come along here on my bike quite often”. Which is exactly what happened a mile or so back when I popped out at Oxenwood with its Manor house and Chapel with a funny tower thing. Geography has never been my strong suit, but the lay of the land fascinates me, and is a topic which I'll come back to if I get time. On a similar note, I've just been listening to a pod cast (The Adventure Podcast - Jon Gower - Why Words Matter) with Jon Gower who talks about the Welsh language and how place names are descriptive. It's a fascinating listen if you've got a spare hour (and if you haven't got a spare hour, try to make one, because I think he's an engaging character and a terrific storyteller). Right, I need to push on, but whilst I've been sat here I've seen my first ladybird of the year (That's Bats, Butterfly's, and now Ladybirds in the last 3 days) and there's been a Wren hopping about in the trees and a couple of rabbits going about their business less than 10 meters away, and totally unfazed by my sitting here quietly.
14:00 - Miles Covered 70.5
Result. I'd been a bit worried about this section as I knew there were no shops (and definitely no shops as its Easter Sunday) and the options for getting water were slim to none. In fact there's not even a handy river between my last overnight stop and the end, which should, if all goes to plan, come tomorrow. In the back of my mind though was the outdoor centre which is just off the route, and if anywhere's going to have an accessible water supply, even when they're shut, it'll be an outdoor centre or a youth hostel type place. So, as you've no doubt guessed, my hunch was right, and I'm currently stopped, doing my best camel impression, and making super noodles as a late lunch, whilst sitting on the floor with my boots off, and watching a Red Kite and Crow perform some spectacular aerobatics. (I keep telling you, it's a glamorous life I lead). That's a massive result though, and a weight off my mind, and means I can crack on, safe in the knowledge that I've got enough water to see me through the night. What's not a result, is that I know the terrain that's in front of me for the next few miles, and lugging the extra weight of water up the hill that's in front of me is going to be no joke. I think though, that I might have an extra brew here, knock the climb out and then think about calling it a day if I can find somewhere decent to pitch up for the night (Which might be problematic in its own right, as the next few miles are quite scenic and within car parking distance for most people, so it'll be busy, although I think there's some more heavy weather due in the next few hours which might send them home). If I stop early, that'll just leave another morning’s walking tomorrow, to get me back to the start and the train home. (I could probably push it out today, but I'm not sure of the train situation, it'll be a long day, and more importantly, where's the fun in that!)
16:00 - Miles Covered 73
Sometimes you slog up a viciously steep slope and when you get to the top, sweaty and breathless, you just drop off the other side again, despite being able to see the place you're heading too directly in front. And you think to yourself “What the F*** is this all about, it's the wrong way, why the hell are we going this way”. And then you get to the bottom of the next viciously steep slope, knees screaming, calves aching from going downhill, and you catch sight of the 15th Century Church nestled in the valley, and you realise why the routes gone this way. Yes I've got to slog back up that steep, uneven, unforgiving hillside. Yes, it's added miles to the day. But, yes, sometimes it's worth the extra effort. And besides, a couple more biscuits sitting quietly in the sun in the Churchyard will give me the energy to get back up that hill. And sometimes, despite the fact that I'm not a religious man, it's worth stopping for a few minutes to say thank you for all that's around us. Now, let's get back up that sodding hill!
18:00 - 76 Miles Covered.
That'll do for today. I've covered enough miles, and I've found what will hopefully be a corking bivvy spot, so it's Hammock up, kettle on, and feet up time, and well deserved I think it is too. It's been another corking day too. When I looked at the weather yesterday, it was forecast for rain this afternoon, which hasn't materialised, although I suspect it will overnight. I can cope with that though, it can rain all it wants when I'm asleep. I just wish it wouldn't insist on doing it when I'm awake! This morning started off clear and sunny, but by the time I'd had breakfast and got going a cold mist had rolled in, and I was actually cold for the first hour or so, despite working hard. It got better as the day wore on though, and despite a cold wind and the sun only rarely breaking through the clouds, it's been a nice enough day. It's been a mixed day terrain wise too. The first few hours were pretty much downhill, whilst the last few hours have seen some sharp climbs and descents to take me up to Inkpen hill at 291 meters (I think this is the highest point in Hampshire) where I'm camped, hopefully well hidden, in a few scrubby trees just off the trail. Considering that I'm almost on the ridge, the trees are doing an excellent job as a windbreak, as I can hear the wind whipping around, but it's calm and still, tucked away in here. In less interesting news, I made the mistake of making a hot chocolate in my mug earlier and now my tea tastes faintly of chocolate, just as I made pasta with pesto in my flask for my tea last night, and despite giving it a good clean out, this mornings porridge tasted vaguely of Pesto, more of the glamorous life hey! Also of no interest, I had a long chat with a guy on a mountain bike earlier in the day, who was very chatty, and mentioned that he'd done the Isle of Wight coast path last year (on his mountain bike, but camping on the way). The Isle of Wight coast path has been on my radar for quite some time, either as a run or walk, but he said it was good, so maybe I need to look into the logistics of making that happen sooner rather than later. I keep saying that I need to do more walking, as I love the slower pace of life walking brings. I suppose there's only one way that's going to happen though, and that's down to me making it happen! On that note, I'm going to love you and leave you for the night. I can hear thunder rumbling around, and I need to get some tea made and the tarp up and sort my kit out before it starts raining, which isn't happening all the time I'm sat here in the Hammock gently rocking and writing waffle. 07:00 Monday - Miles covered 76.5 Well that was a rookie mistake. When I left you I was gently swaying in my Hammock, extolling the virtues of my camp spot and singing my own praises. As predicted the rain arrived just after I'd turned in for the night just before 21:00, and I drifted off to sleep to the sound of rain bouncing off the Tarp, inches above my head. I'm not sure what time the rain stopped, but about 02:00 the temperature dropped and the wind changed direction. Instead of being sheltered by the trees they were now acting like a funnel, and my Tarp set up wasn't helping matters, directing the full force of the icy blast straight onto my tired body. I snuggled down further into my sleeping bag and pulled a down jacket round me, in an attempt to keep warm, but despite dozing fitfully for another couple of hours, by 04:00 I was getting really cold. Cold to the point where I couldn't sleep. A situation. not helped by the tarp flapping, where it was now facing into wind, and my needing a wee! I managed to lay still with my eyes shut, in the hope I'd doze back off until 05:00 when I finally gave in to the need for a wee, before diving back into my sleeping bag to wait out the dawn. As soon as it was light enough to see I was up, and with all my layers on got packed up as fast as possible, before making a break for the edge of the hill and a respite from the icy fingers of the bitterly cold wind. I'm sat here now, less than half a mile from my camp spot, at the bottom of the ridge, with a brew on, waiting for the porridge to cook, wondering what all the fuss was about, as it must be a good 10 degrees warmer out of the wind. I guess that'll teach me not to check the wind direction before bed, and I should know better by now not to camp on the top of a hill, as it's bound to be windy. Although, thinking about it, the bottoms of hills tend to be cold, as the cold air sinks, the middle of hills are too steep for camping, rivers are prone to flooding and cold traps, woods risk trees falling on you in the night and tend to be damp, farmers fields are full of crops and scary horses, so they're out too, which just leaves? Oh for F****s sake, where the hell are you supposed to camp!
10:15 - Miles Covered 82
Time for one last brew before I get back to the Kennet and Avon Canal and my start point. Not because I particularly want a brew (That's a lie, I always want a brew), but more because I don't want my little adventure to end. The sun's shining again today and it's already pleasantly warm as I wander along. The going's been a bit boggy in parts, but it's been easy walking, as I've made my way back towards Hungerford for the train home. I've just said that I'll be sad to see the end of this one, and if it wasn't for the fact that I need to be at home on Wednesday morning for a delivery, I'd be quite happy to resupply in Hungerford and just push on and go round again. I've other plans for the rest of the week though and there's other things that need my time. So I'm just going to have to enjoy this last brew sat in the sun, listen to the birds singing and the wind whistling through the bare trees one more time and then head for the station and a return to reality.
12:00 - Miles covered 85
That's it then, all over and done with bar the shouting. A few final miles back along the canal, which looks significantly different today in the glorious spring sun than it did Thursday afternoon in the midst of a torrential downpour, saw me back in Hungerford with just enough time to get a train ticket before the train arrived to whisk me swiftly back to normality. Whilst I said at the start of this little adventure that the train is the best way to start any adventure, I'm not so sure about it being the best way to end one. When your dirty, sweaty, tired, and faced with the 2 mile walk back home at the other end because “The Emma's” gone out playing trains for the day, it's not quite such an attractive prospect. Oh well, I'm sure another 2 miles won't kill me.
Postscript
Tuesday morning and I’m back home again with the post adventure blues. I’d been planning this little outing for a while, and when I saw the weather forecast in the days leading up to last Thursday it filled my heart with dread and I almost canned the whole idea. I could have just moved it back a few days as I’m off work this week. But, as I mentioned earlier, I need to be at home for a metal delivery on Wednesday morning that’s too big for “The Emma” to deal with, and I’ve got plans for next weekend too, so if it wasn’t Thursday I couldn't slip it much further. In fact though, I’m really glad I went when I did. Yes, the conditions on Thursday afternoon and Friday morning were testing, to say the least. But, and it’s a big but, I coped fine. My feet got wet, but that was it, and that’s to be expected, and the least of my worries. And anyway, as soon as the sun came out, I managed to dry my socks, and by Saturday afternoon, I had dry feet again and everything was fine. More importantly, my sleeping system worked fine and I stayed dry overnight and slept well (a bit cold on Sunday night but that was my own fault). Likewise I knew that finding water may be a problem at certain points, but again, that wasn’t the issue that I thought it might be. And most importantly, despite carrying more weight than I was really comfortable with, my knees and back held up fine. In fact both feel better today, having walked 85 miles with a heavy backpack, than they normally do after a day sitting behind my desk at work, which tells us a lot! The big thing to take away from this little adventure though is that I’ve learned a little bit more about myself. I took on some testing conditions, and came out the other side with a massive smile on my face. There’s a post-it note stuck on my desk at work that says something like “How do you know how tall you are if you can always touch the bottom”. I don’t know where I got it from, but I take that to mean that all of the time you're operating within your comfort zone, you're not going to grow as a person, and if you stay within that comfort zone, you're never going to find out what you're truly capable of. Using that analogy, having spent quite a lot of time operating outside of my comfort zone (often well out of my depth) I’d like to think that I’ve got a reasonable idea of how tall I am. But, having yet again taken myself outside of my comfort zone on Thursday / Friday morning, it would appear that I’m actually a bit taller than I thought I was. I’ve learned a bit more about myself, and what I’m actually capable of doing, and I’ve learned a bit more about what works and what doesn't when I’m out and about. Maybe, knowing how to spend the night outside when it’s pissing it down and blowing a gale isn’t a particularly useful skill to have in the modern day, where we spend most of our time sitting on comfortable chairs, in heated homes and sleeping in nice warm beds. And you’d probably be right. But the mental fortitude, and resilience, that comes from taking on those conditions and not only surviving, but thriving, is. No matter what the world throws at me on a daily basis, that mental resilience and strength of character is going to stand me in good stead. And you know what. I still don’t know how tall I am, so I guess that I’m just going to have to keep on getting out there, testing my boundaries and seeing what’s possible, until I do find out. Which takes us into an entirely different conversation regarding failure, because there’s no harm in failing as long as you learn from it, and when you're playing around on the boundaries of what you're capable of doing, then occasionally there’s going to be failures, but they’re all part of the growing process too. And just in case you're wondering, I’m about 6ft 1” in height, but I’ve got no idea how tall I am, and I’m not going to find out all the time my feet can touch the bottom! Double Postscript (Is that even a thing?) Having been side tracked by how tall I am. It’s interesting to note how my writing changes and my subject of conversation changes over the days of my Easter adventure. There’s two things of note that change over the days. Firstly the weather improves, so I’m more willing to stop, stare, and take in my surroundings, and then think about my feelings and put them into words. But secondly, I get into my stride, my brain has the time to process all the rubbish of the week before and clear itself of random thoughts, and the walking becomes more therapeutic, meditative almost, which again leads to taking more of an interest in my surroundings. Both of which I think are probably reflected in my words above.
0 Comments
Having said last week, that I was going up North with “The Emma” this weekend, a slight confusion on “The Emma's” part (Saturdays party, turned out to be afternoon tea on Sunday) lead to a bit of a change of plan and I've been at home all weekend instead. I'm still not feeling particularly energetic or enthused, so I've spent most of the weekend pottering around and catching up on odd jobs, instead of partying the night away. With the weekend free, the thought of a cheeky overnight "Bivvy" on the bike did cross my mind. But when push came to shove, I just couldn't be bothered, and you know what, having spent the weekend taking it easy I feel considerably better for it. There's no doubt that sometimes a change is as good as a rest, and I often find that spending a few days pottering around, making stuff and generally being productive, is incredibly invigorating and goes a long way towards resetting my batteries. To that end, Saturday morning I crept out early, leaving “The Emma” in bed sleeping off a night shift and spent the morning walking around one of my local off road running routes. I've probably mentioned before that sometimes it makes a refreshing change to walk, and it's surprising what you see that you don't notice when your running. Back home in time for a late lunch, I spent the afternoon, cleaning and servicing more bikes than is strictly normal. My commuting bike tends to take a bit of a hammering, being used and abused in all weathers, and I've finally got round to building a new rear wheel and swapping them over (the free hub on the old one has been on it's last legs for the best part of 6 months and like most things is now a discontinued item, so it was easier to just build a new wheel with a new hub etc than mess around trying to find bits to keep it going). While I had the bike stand and tools out it made sense to give my Audax bike a bit of a clean after it's recent epic outing, and whilst I was at it, the touring bikes been sat looking sad and lonely since my 500K weekend at the end of July, so that's had a bit of TLC too! That's the problem with having multiple steeds (although I suspect that there's plenty of people with more toys than me), they all seem to get dirty together and I'm a firm believer in regular cleaning, maintenance, and lubrication. A clean and oily bike's a happy bike as far as I'm concerned! Sunday morning, I meandered up to the allotment with a flask of tea and packet of biscuits and had a lovely, productive morning, tidying up, pricking out Sweet William seeds and generally pottering around. The Sweet Williams will join the Hollyhocks and Foxgloves in the cold frame for another few weeks, before being planted out into the borders at home ready for some spring and early summer colour next year, joining the Wallflowers that have been sitting patiently on the allotment all summer. The bit of rain we had last week has worked wonders on the allotment too, with everything already looking greener and healthier than it has for a long time. No matter how much watering you do, it's never enough, but a good few hours of rain makes a massive difference. Another bucketful of Tomatoes, a few more Chillies and another Cucumber from the greenhouse and a couple of punnets of Blackberries to join the ones already in the freezer followed me home after my productive morning, and even if I do say so myself, the plots looking really good at the moment! The glut of greenhouse produce needs using whilst we've got it and too that end I made a large batch of Pizza / Pasta sauce last weekend, and this weekends haul turned into roast vegetable soup. Onions, Peppers, Courgettes, Garlic, Chillies and Tomatoes got roasted with a bit of Olive oil and Balsamic vinegar, before getting whizzed down with a bit of Vegetable stock. Delicious! Whilst the oven was on it seemed rude to waste all that heat, so a lemon drizzle cake found it's way in when the veg came out. Delicious too! And whilst that little lot was cooking, the Blackberries got added to the ones from the freezer and a couple of cooking apples to make a few jars of jam. Although I think it's actually a jelly as it's been sieved to remove all those pesky Blackberry pips which get stuck in your teeth. Whatever it is, I know that it's going to be delicious in my morning porridge! Bank Holiday Monday I actually dragged my lazy backside out for a few leg stretching miles on the bike. Nothing too serious, just a local 50 mile loop that takes you around the outside of Basingstoke, picking up a few of the outlaying villages on the way. But I must say that it was lovely to finally get back out again. The late summer sun worked it's magic and rapidly drove the chilly early morning away, and whilst the first signs of Autumn are definitely on their way, it was still more than warm enough. Back home in plenty of time for lunch I spent a few productive hours baking bread to join yesterdays soup for tea, whilst having a bit of a tidy up in the gardens and cutting back the overgrown Honeysuckle that adorns the back fence (wall). And that's it, another weekend gone in a flash. I must say though, that I feel a million times better than I did at the end of last week and I'm really looking forward to getting back to a bit of running and cycling again. It's quite amazing the restorative effects a productive weekend pottering around and making stuff can have.
Roll on next weekend, there's running to do!
You've gone to far this time, has been said to me on more than one occasion, and likewise, sometimes you chomp off more than you can chew, and I think that this weekend was one of those occasions.
Back in the winter, when it was dark and grey and I had a few spare minutes, (alright I was supposed to be working), one of my endless searches for new adventures threw up the Warwickshire ring canal race. 111 miles of scenic (and not so) canal running, through the heart of the Midlands. Handily, being a ring, it also started and finished from Coventry, meaning logistically for a long race, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. So, before you could say "Bob's your uncle" or "isn't that a stupid idea?" I'd added my name to the start list. Fast forward 6 months and I'm sat in the van in Coventry on Friday night, thinking "What the hell am I doing here", not only has most of my training been on the bike this year, with just a bit of running thrown in to keep the legs going, but I hate running on Canals. They're too flat, too hard on the feet, and apart from the odd scenic bit, tend to be a bit like running down a tunnel, enclosed by either trees or buildings, meaning there's not even anything to look at. Oh' well, too late to back out now.
And so it was, that I found myself stood in Coventry Canal Basin, slap bang in the heart of the city, on what looked like a pleasant morning, (with a forecast of rain later, how does that work, that's 2 weekends on the trot when it's been gorgeous all week and then rained on Saturday!), with 70 or so other like minded idiots, getting ready for what was undoubtable going to be a long day out.
Bang on 08:00, the nice man from the Canal and River Trust, who was acting as honorary starter, said go, and we were off. Ok, what actually happened is he said "ready, steady" and then had to start again as the photographer had accidently closed his phone down. And when he did finally say "Go" we all did that strange thing that only seems to happen at the start of long races and Audax's, where everyone just stands looking at each other, waiting for someone else to go first. Eventually though we got going, heading out of the city, along the Coventry Canal Towpath, past the remnants of this once industrial city. Now, like so much of the UK, turned over to flats, coffee shops and wasteland. The tarmacked path, led to a faster pace than I would have liked considering the distance to be covered, but once the front runners disappeared into the distance, never to be seen again, I settled into what felt like an easy, and manageable pace, although considering the distance, still probably rather too fast.
Plodding effortlessly along on the pan flat, smooth tarmac, made a real change from my normal route choices, and the first few miles passed amicably enough, sociably chatting to those around me and generally taking in what there was to see. The Coventry Canal, and indeed all of the canals that make up the ring, are significantly different to my normal haunt on the Basingstoke Canal, being far more built up, industrialised and open, and whilst I may be somewhat biased, in my opinion nowhere near as picturesque.
There was still more than enough to keep things interesting though. The pretty canal boats that now act as pleasure craft, their original purpose and important role in the industrial revolution long lost in the mists of time. A Heron stood patiently waiting for it's breakfast to arrive in the shallows, the odd fisherman, eagerly watching the float in front of him, just like the Heron, and a plethora of other little things that catch your attention as you move silently through the landscape.
A touch over 4 hours since setting off, and just in time to enjoy the full force of a heavy rain shower, I arrived at the first checkpoint at 26.5 miles. As I said, way to fast for what was planned to be the first of 4 marathons today, and a time that most people would be over the moon with if they could achieve it just once. Oh well, no point dwelling, I was still feeling good and felt the the pace was easy enough on the flat, hard, ground, so I wasn't too worried.
A quick stop for water, a brief chat with the marvellous marshals, and off again, bound for Birmingham, or the Venice of the North as I've often heard it referred to due to the number of canals that run through it. By now the sun was shining and the temperatures had steadily risen throughout the morning, despite the rain shower earlier doing it's best to put a dampener on proceedings, and I was conscious of making sure to be getting enough water on board to stave of the dreaded cramp, which seems to be the first sign of dehydration in my case.
Eat, drink, plod, became the mantra for the next couple of hours as I made my way steadily towards Birmingham. The tower blocks and old gasometers, visible on the skyline for many miles, providing an indication of progress. Typically, having said drinking needs to be a priority in the heat, I'd not seen a tap for a while to refill my bottles and just as I reached the outskirts of Birmingham my water ran out. Not to worry though, there's bound to be a tap at the next set of locks or a canal side shop to solve that problem.
Wrong! No taps and no shops, just mile after mile of enclosed concrete pathway, with industrial units to either side, all adorned with graffiti (although I must admit that some of it is very good, and a group of youths working on a wall as I passed looked to be doing an admirable job, and said a very polite hello!). With cramp twinging in my calves and a mouth like a camels backside (dry) I was starting to wonder how much longer I could hold out, when wonder of wonders, I spotted a shop on the other side of the railings. A quick bit of mountaineering later to get off the towpath and my problem was solved, at least for the time being. Which brings me neatly on to the next issue, constantly throwing water down your throat to avoid dehydration, pretty soon starts to make you feel sick. Or it does me anyway, and by this time I must have got through at least 4 or 5 litres. The majority of which had sloshed around in my belly for a while, before disappearing back out again as sweat, leaving a nice salty crust on my face and shirt. On a long hot day it becomes quite a game of drinking as much as I can to avoid the dreaded cramps, without making myself sick. Not the best game ever, I will admit, but if nothing else it helps to pass the time. It's not all sunshine and flowers this running lark I can tell you!
Onward though, through the 40 mile mark and heading steadily towards 50 and the next checkpoint, which arrived before the 10 hour mark. This certainly wasn't going to plan, 2 marathons through the heat of the day in under 10 hours, possibly not the best move on my part, but I still felt pretty good, considering the distance covered.
Another quick stop (only the second time I'd actually stopped all day, if you don't include running into the shop in Birmingham, which hardly counts). A clean pair of socks, refill the water bottles again, replenish my snack supply and scoff a slice of Quiche with beans, which had prepared to near fine dining standards, whilst I did other stuff, by the lovely marshals who couldn't have been more helpful and waited on my every need. And then off again, heading out into the evening sun less than 20 minutes later, for the start of the 3rd marathon of the day
Unsurprisingly, by now my pace was dropping off significantly. The first 10 miles of this leg, managed at a steady jog, didn't seem to bad, but coming to a long downhill flight of locks was a different matter and muscles, unused for most of the day, instantly started screaming in protest. Slow to a walk and struggle down the hill, then back on the flat sections resume the slow jog.
Another mile and I'm back to walking pace for a couple of meters, just to give the legs a break. Then back to the slow jog again, but as the miles slowly increase so do the frequency of the walking breaks. Until by mile 67, I'm just walking and just maintaining 3 MPH. It's not a problem as I'm well ahead of the cut off times, with plenty of time in hand, but walking's hard, it uses different muscles to running and my legs don't like it. Whilst I'm walking, I take the opportunity to get the last of the snacks I'm carrying down me. I've got to be into a significant calorie deficit by now and as the miles slowly increase, so does my fatigue levels, probably not helped by last weekends 400Km Audax, and those of the weekends before! By mile 70 I'm really struggling, I'm down to 2 MPH now, I feel sick and dizzy and my right Quadricep (that muscle at the top of your leg) is really hurting and I'm starting to limp. Hobbling on, I'm in a bad way, I should have been at the next checkpoint before 22:00 at the pace I was going so I didn't pick up my torch, and now it's starting to get dark too. I stop a few times and try to stretch my legs off, but it's to no avail, I'm done, totally spent and barely functioning. Eventually, a couple of runners catch up from behind. The first I've seen for most of the day, and it's taken them a while, so there must have been quite a gap. A few quick words as they pass and I'm back wallowing in my own misery and self doubt. At mile 73 the tow path is closed and we have to divert off onto the road for a mile or so. At this point I'm totally broken as I hobble up the short incline to gain the road and start along the tarmac. It's dark now and I'm conscious of being on the road with no lights, but luckily it's a deserted county road. I say luckily as I'm struggling to walk in a straight line, having to stop and take a knee a couple of time before I fall down, too tired, fatigued and weak to stay upright. I know I'm done, I know I won't be getting to the end today, but I've got to cover those last couple of miles to the next checkpoint before I can stop, and I push slowly, ever so slowly, on. The clock in the village is striking 23:00 as I stand dry retching by the roadside as my body tries ot get rid of the invisible toxins that it thinks it's been poisoned with. So tired, so Hungry, so Fatigued. Push on. Those last 2 miles take an eternity (I'm guessing 40+ minutes) but eventually I arrive at the checkpoint where the same volunteer crew, sit me down, cover me with a blanket, grab my bag and get me some food, whilst trying to convince me that once I've eaten I'll be good to go again. And there probably right, but deep down my hearts not in it, I know that if I push on it will be 35 miles at walking pace and that's likely to lead to some serious injuries, injuries that I can't afford right now, with a packed running and cycling schedule and this isn't a priority race for me this year, there's bigger things still to come. They're right too, by the time I've sat down for 30 minutes, had a couple of cups of tea with extra sugar and a bacon sandwich, I feel considerably better. But I still know that my hearts not in it now, and stopping here is a better option than injury or having to stop out on the course, so I make the sensible decision and join the other 22 retirements from the day.
With some warm, dry clothes on, and some food inside me, I felt considerably better and sat watching the dawn slowly break, as those still out running come and go, whilst I waited for the checkpoint to close, so I could get a lift back to the start with a couple of other retirees.
Back at the van for 06:00, after my second Saturday in a row without sleep, I had a brew and reflected on the day. I felt awful, and still do, as I sit here writing this on Sunday afternoon, having had some sleep, multiple brews, at least 3 breakfasts and 2 lunches. I've done a 600, 300 and 400 Km Audax's on consecutive weekends, and I just think that this one was one step to far. I ran well until 65'ish miles, but when it started to fall apart, it fell apart fast, and it fell apart big time, and my body just couldn't cope with that. Likewise my legs suffered on the hard, flat, unforgiving tarmac, for mile after mile. I also know that I went out too fast, 4 and 5 hour marathons aren't the way to cover 100 miles and I know that, but for those first 50 miles it felt good, the pace felt easy and I didn't feel like I was working particularly hard. In fact before my watch died and I couldn't get it to charge again I'd covered 54.85 miles in 9:44 (including the two checkpoint stops) which to be honest is just stupid! For those last few miles (and on plenty of other occasions throughout the day) I swore that I was never going to try this distance, over this type of route again. But, you know how it is, in the cold light of day, having had some sleep. There's unfinished business here. It's not going to be any time soon, that's for sure, as most of this year is already full. But maybe I'll get some good miles in along the Basingstoke canal over the winter, take what I learned Saturday (which was a lot) and come back next year for another go. Who knows? Oh, and as a postscript, 22 of the original 68 starters failed to finish. That's nearly a third, which I would think is a pretty high drop out rate, so maybe I don't feel quite so bad about my performance after all! Surprisingly, after a good nights sleep and a good stretch, my legs didn't feel too bad on Tuesday morning. There was a time when 40 miles would have finished me off for a week, so I must be getting better at this running lark as the years go by. Mind you, there was a time when running 50 yards to catch a bus seemed like a stupid idea, let alone a marathon or more! Amongst other things though, the whole point of being down in Welsh Wales was to take advantage of the scenery, and today's plan involved Pen y Fan amongst other things. There's a nice route that takes you up to the summit the long way from the less visited side, and also picks up Corn Du and a couple of other peaks whilst it's at it, making for a good day out, and adding a few more miles to my legs (as if they need that!) Another early start and a short drive, saw me ready to go just before 9, on what looked to be a changeable sort of day, with a strong, cold, wind blowing down the valley as I set off. Cold and windy on the valley floor, never bodes well for the higher ground and I doubled back to grab an extra couple of layers from the van, just in case, before setting off proper. An easy mile along the valley floor to warm my legs up and then it's straight up the side of the valley to gain the ridge for the ascent up to Pen y Fan. That certainly woke my legs up and reminded me that those 40 miles yesterday weren't for free, no matter how good my legs felt! A couple of pauses on the way up to take in the view, and keeping a steady (slow) pace, soon saw the top hove into view, and with it the first of many opportunities to stand, mouth agape, and take in the majesty of the views around me. Gaining the valley top, sees the gradient level off and with it the full force of that cold wind came into play, whipping across the rim, whistling round my walking poles and sending the sheep looking for cover behind anything they could find on the windswept barren landscape. A brief stop on the summit of Corn Du, where a few T shirt wearing day trippers stood shivering in the full force of the wind, having made their way up the more direct approach, showed how easy it could be to get caught out in these unforgiving landscapes if your not fully prepared! Dropping back off the summit, heading for Pen y Fan, provided a sharp reminder of how much easier going uphill is to downhill, as muscles still tired from yesterdays efforts, screamed in protest. A quick reminder to my legs that they could moan all they want, “at some point we were going to have to go down hill", and "it only hurts for a bit anyway", soon did the trick, and with frequent stops to take in the never ending vista's I made my way along the steep escarpment to pick up the opposite valley side and head back towards the van. A brief rain shower did little to dampen my spirits as I climbed the final ascent for the day, although it did delay my lunch stop for a few minutes. There's not many things in life worse than trying to eat your sandwiches when the winds trying to whip the filling out of the middle and the rains filling your flask back up with cold water faster than you can drink the hot tea out of it! Eventually though, like all good things the days adventures had to draw to a close, and with one final glance at the view I turned to put the wind on my back and head back towards the van, where a hot brew and a chance to sit in the sun for a couple of hours beckoned. Not a bad day out then and another 11 miles added to the years meagre walking total. I'm going to have to come back at some point in the future and run this route though, as it's a cracker and I must admit that a runner coming past and heading off down the steep North side on his own adventure had me staring wistfully after him and considering throwing off my walking boots and joining him. Tired legs and sore knees or not, there's something magical about running that you just can't replicate with walking!
You know that old problem, where you've filled up all your weekends, and allocated all your leave, but there's still things that you want to do? Well there's a solution to that conundrum. Weekday adventures. To be honest my weekdays are already pretty full. What with working full time, cycling and running to work, tending the allotment and gardens, route planning and preparing for whatever I'm up to at the weekend, Oh, and writing these masterpieces every week (although if I didn't that, I wouldn't have the faintest idea what I had done last weekend, let alone 6 months ago). In fact It's a good job that I've got “The Emma” to look after me, and make sure I have some tea occasionally, or I'd find something else better to do in that half hour too. You can always find time for a bit more though, and that's exactly what I've done this weekend. Having already filled up Saturday and Sunday (more of which later), I thought that I might be able to squeeze a bit more into Friday, in the form of a bit of running fun. Although if I'm honest this weeks stupidity isn't my favourite form of running fun, but needs must when you need to get some miles in. In a fit of idiocy, I signed up to a long running event with a difference a few months ago, and the time to put my money where my mouth is, is fast approaching. The big difference between this one and the stupidity that's gone before, is this ones all along Canal tow paths, and previous experience along the Basingstoke Canal has proven that tow paths make surprisingly hard running. It's surprising, because, as everyone knows, canals tend to be flat, which should make it easier, but somehow that doesn't follow. Not only does the endless flat terrain mean that your muscles never get a rest, but the tow-paths tend to be well surfaced, and are often either gravelled, or tarmacked, to prevent erosion, which is pretty hard going on the old toes! So, what's that got to do with this weekend then? Well, having decided that getting a few tow-path miles under my feet before the big event might be a good idea, but having run out of spare days to do it, whilst running home from work the other day I realised that if I just went the other way (the opposite direction to home) I could pick up the Basingstoke Canal, run to the end and then get the train back home again. Not only a brilliant idea, but I could probably fit it into Friday afternoon too. There was one small problem with my brilliant plan though. I'd either have to drive to work and leave the “Bangernomics” Peugot there, collecting it next week, which messes with next weeks running (I need the Van Friday night so I can't use that). Or leave my bike at work and run back in on Monday, that's not ideal either though. Or, wait for it, - - - - the canal's only 30 miles long, so how about I run to work on Friday morning too, making it a 40 mile day? Problem solved, and every thing's still in the right place for Monday morning, brilliant! We'll just ignore the fact that I've already done 36 miles this week, making this another 76 mile running week! Plan settled then, I'll run in to the office Friday morning, get out of work ASAP, run the length of the canal, get the train home, have a shower, say hello to “The Emma” and then head straight back out again for a night in the van, ready for an early start Saturday and Sunday. Genius! I'll admit that it didn't seem like quite such a genius idea when the alarm went off at 04:45 Friday morning, reminding me that I needed to get a shift on and get out of the door by 06:00, if I was going to get to work in time! I've said before that “there will be plenty of time for sleeping when I'm dead”, and to be honest, with the sun just coming up, the birds singing their hearts out outside, and the promise of another beautiful day to look forward too, it wasn't actually that hard to drag myself out of bed, have a brew, scoff a bit of breakfast, and slip my running shoes on, ready for the 10 miles in to work. There's also the added bonus that now the grounds dried out a bit I can take my run to work almost all off road. Which is significantly better than the 10 miles of road running drudgery I'm faced with in the winter, when the paths are just too churned up and muddy to contemplate in the dark before work. 7 of the 10 miles of off road trail is a far better proposition, and with the sun shining, the fields covered in moisture from the nights rain and the grass wet with dew, is a real treat in the mornings and really set's you up for a day stuck in the office! Just under an hour and a half later and the first bit of the days fun is complete. Now just a few hours of pretending to be interested in work and looking busy and I can get back out there again. “You Boy. Stop staring out the window” as they said at school a million times, “and don't exaggerate”! Morning satisfactorily wasted, and a lunch time finish beckons. But what's this? Just as I'm getting ready to leave, the heavens open, rain, Nooooooo! Now what? Sit at work for a bit longer and hope it stops, change my plans and go home instead, or just man up, get out there and get wet. Obviously the latter, and it's actually quite refreshing as I step out of the office into the rain which seems to be alternating between, torrential and monsoon strength. Oh well, I'm wet now and I don't seem to have dissolved, so lets go legs! It's a mile and ¾ from work to the canal. I know, because, I've run it enough times to know every pot hole, uneven paving stone and divot off by heart, and by the time I get there, the rain has subsided to more of a gentle shower, which is much better. It gets better still, as I pick up the tow-path, with it's familiar marker posts every ½ Km to remind me how much further I've got to go, as the overhanging tree cover keeps most of the rain off. Just leaving the patter of drops as the leaves above my head get saturated and release their cargo, and the explosions on the canal surface off to my right, as the rain lands with a splash, slowly adding to the water level. It doesn't take long to settle into a steady rhythm on the flat surface, and I quickly pass a couple of Kayakers, out having their own fun in the rain and a few dog walkers making their way back to towards their cars in the opposite direction. And then that's it, until I reach Fleet some 7 miles later, not a single person, just me, the beat of my heart and the fall of my feet for company, as I make my way steadily along, lost in my own thoughts, totally engrossed in the landscape, unchanged since the canal was dug all those years ago. As Fleet approaches, so does the number of people around, and with them so the landscape changes. That's pretty much it for the open countryside, as the towns which the canal once served, come thick and fast from here on. Fleet, Aldershot, Ash, where I stop for a much needed water resupply, and on towards Mychett where I stop again at the Canal centre to take on more water and grab a sandwich from my pack. The rains been stopped for a while by this point, and the sun's come back out to play, raising the temperature and humidity considerably, and despite having drunk 2 and 1/2 litres of water over the preceding 18 miles I'm starting to struggle with cramp in my calf's, a sure sign that I'm still dehydrated! Yet more water and a packet of salty pretzels seems to do the trick for a while and I push on, counting down those pesky marker posts as I go. Eventually, Deepcut arrives and with it another change of scenery. Since I picked up the Canal in Odiham we've been following the contour line on the map. But now, for the first time since our departure, the tow-path starts to descend. Ever so gradually, but enough to call for the occasional lock, bringing the canal level down to follow the lay of the land and giving me something new to look at. Past the 16 Km marker post, just 10 more miles to go, but my legs are starting to feel the effort now. Long gone are the easy miles from the start of the day. With 30 miles in my legs since I left home the pace is dropping off and the hard surface is starting to tell on my feet. Things don't get much better as I reach the outskirts of Woking and the gravel is replaced by Tarmac! I have a choice to make as I approach Woking though. I can either call it a day at Woking and get a fast train back home, with a regular timetable. Or, push on for the final 3 miles (plus another mile to the train station) and be lumbered with a slow stopping train all the way back and possibly a long wait for a train, adding at least another hour to the journey. It's an easy choice today, I've got plenty of miles in the bag and I need to get back home in order to get back out again! Swinging off the tow-path for one final time, I head for the station, arriving with minutes to spare for the direct train back home. The trains packed with London commuters heading home for the weekend and it's standing room only. But, as I balance precariously on my tired legs and look round at the glum faces surrounding me. I reflect on the adventure I've had this afternoon. Whilst my travelling companions were still sat at their desks, I was running in the rain. Slowly crossing the landscape crafted by a thousand farmers, engineers and Navvies, over hundreds of years. Running atop embankments created from the spoils of the hand cut canal off to my side. Spoil that was dug by hand, moved by wheel barrow and compacted by the feet of hard working men. Men, that shovel by shovel permanently changed the landscape, to make it what we see today! A landscape that almost returned to it's original state, as the canal was abandoned, in favour of first the train which runs alongside for much of it's length, following the same flat contours, and more latterly the motor car. A landscape which was restored to much of it's original beauty, leaving the amazing leisure opportunity and wildlife haven we have today, by a bunch of dedicated volunteers in the 80's and 90's, using much the same techniques as the original builders 200 years before. Oh yes, there's a lot to be said for grabbing the opportunity of a weekday adventure. I'll tell you something else too. It's surprising how long it takes to cover 40 miles on the train, even at 70 MPH. Maybe those 40 miles I covered on foot today is further than I think it is! Saturday, was an opportunity to give a bit back for a change, and I'd agreed to act as a marshaller for The Chawton Challenge. An LDWA event with 20 or 30 mile walk/run options, being organised by my local LDWA group. I'm always incredibly grateful for those that give up their own time to arrange and run any of the events that I do, so it's nice to get involved when I can and do my bit in return. Compared to many, my allocated duties for the day were pretty meagre, just having to man a busy road crossing for a few hours, ensuring safe passage and being a welcome face to those out taking on their own weekend challenge. It did however, give me the opportunity to spend the morning chatting to a few like minded people, all of whom had plenty of tales from their own adventures to share. And interestingly, a long talk with an old fellow who's car had broken down round the corner and had nothing better to do than talk to me while he waited for the AA who had lots of tales from a long and varied life, and who'd had a very interesting career in engineering. In fact, as interesting mornings stood in the late spring sunshine go, it couldn't have been much better, and was well worth getting up early for. It's quite surprising the number of people who will stand and chat to you if you show a bit of interest and engage with them. And you can almost guarantee, that those that do stop and chat, will have something interesting to tell you about. Listening is something we probably don't do enough of in today's busy world. And even as someone who would rather listen than talk, (as that means I don't have to talk about myself, which surprisingly I really hate) I'm as guilty of as the next man. In fact, thinking about it now, I should have stopped on Friday, when the little old lady walking her dog along the canal spoke to me as I was running past. But you know how it is, I was too busy, rushing along to get nowhere! High Viz jacket returned and duties completed by early afternoon, I still had plenty of time for a leisurely lunch, before heading down to the New Forest ready for Sundays Audax fun. Where, finding a quite spot away from the normal tourist activities, I had a very enjoyable afternoon mooching through the forest and generally chilling out. Not something I do very often, but when occasionally the opportunity presents itself, one that should be grasped with both hands. At the end of the day, a change is as good as a rest, so they say! Sunday saw a return to Audax in the shape of The New Forest Excersion 200Km. I say that as if I've not been out for years! Somehow though, the Blowingstone -White Horse Audax, just 2 short weeks ago, seems like a lifetime ago, and as I sat in the van Saturday night, I was actually excited about Sundays ride. New roads, new faces amongst the more familiar regulars, new things to see, new places to go, and another challenge. How can that not set you mind alight and inspire you? Sunday dawned clear and bright, with the promise of another beautiful day hanging in the still morning air as we assembled in a non de-script car park in Lymington, to collect our Brevet cards and be released into the wilds of the New Forest. 08:00 sharp and the nice man said “go” and off we went, or rather as per usual everyone just stood there looking at each other waiting for someone else to go first. You don't get that at a race, but it often seems to happen at an Audax. I know I never want to be first, what if I go the wrong way and everyone else follows me? Eventually though, someone took the initiative and we actually departed, a long slow snake of cyclists, slowly making their way out of the car park and off for an adventure on the open road. With the sun quickly warming the air and highlighting the verges, all of which are alive with spring flowers, and the bright green fresh trees and fields alongside the road, those early miles more than lived up to expectation. Moving out of town and into the New Forest proper, ponies, many with young foals in tow, crowded the roadsides, gently grazing the fresh grass growth, lifting their heads in curiosity as we passed, not bothered by the swish of wheels on the tarmac. And speeding past I was. With flat, well surfaced roads and a slight tail wind for the first leg, the miles were flying past. A very brief pause at the first checkpoint to grab a sticker for my brevet card and a turn to start retracing our steps back across the forest, bought the wind to the front and slowed progress slightly. Not enough to hamper progress or cause problems but enough to be noticeable. With the sun shining, plenty still to look at and smooth, traffic free roads, a bit of wind wasn't going to take the smile off my face today, and as I made my way back towards the coast I was in my element. By lunchtime I'd been both ways across the forest and was back at the coast. A quick stop for a photo or two, a glimpse of the Isle of Wight off across the sea, and a few minutes admiring the hoards of sun worshipers thronging the beach and off again. Heading North again for a second loop around the forest roads.
There's not much else I can add about the afternoon efforts. With the flat roads providing some easy miles, progress was good throughout the afternoon, and with nothing much to slow down proceedings I was back at the start before 17:00 enjoying a well deserved brew and a slice of cake as reward for the days efforts. Not that a reward was required. In fact the views, the wildlife, the constant sunshine and the miles rolling effortlessly along under my wheels had been more than enough of a reward for any efforts I may have had to make through the day! Here's a top jape for you all. If you've got a dashboard warning light on, an acceptable fix is not covering up the light. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not still on. I'm pretty sure that you figured out that when you close you eye's, you don't become invisible, when you were about 2 years old, well the same applies here. What am I on about now, I hear you say. Well, the Bangernomics Peugot went for it's first MOT under my ownership last week, and to be honest I was expecting it to fail, probably on emissions if I'm honest. At the end of the day it's had a hard life, I'm the 7th owner and probably the only one that's ever changed the oil! It's been a runabout all it's life, and it's getting on now. I don't know how car years equate to people years, but if it's anything like a cat, it would be the equivalent of 119, so it's an old lady really, and an old lady that had a hard paper round and then spent her working life as a hod carrier at that. Anyway, what it actually failed on was no ABS light. What should happen is the ABS light comes on with the ignition to tell you it's working, runs through it's self test and then goes out. Or in this case, never comes on, hence the fail. Now, seeing as I'm too tight to pay someone else to fix it, I thought I'd best have a look myself, after all I'm supposed to be an engineer of some sort or another, and imagine what I found. Yep, you got it, some cheeky monkey has covered the light in question up with sticky tape and seeing as it failed the last MOT because the light was on, we could probably hazard a guess at which professional outfit did that can't we! So, now that I've fixed one problem, I just need to get the light to go back out again like it should. Hence a bit of head scratching and a lot of swearing over the last few evenings whilst I've tried to figure out how an ABS system works. A task that would be a lot easier, if any of the wiring diagrams that I've found matched the system in the car, and if it hadn't been played with before, by persons unknown. So far, I've found all the screws missing out of the fuse panel, the main plug on the ABS module broken and the Left rear brake shoe lining detached from the shoe. But not the source of the problem. I'll get there though, if nothing else I'm a persistent fellow and I'm learning at every step which is always a plus! Whilst I'm wittering on about making and fixing things, "The Emma's" been on a mission over the last couple of years to fatten up all the little birds in the vicinity and it seems to be working as she's got a right little bird restaurant going in the front garden. Since the completion of Project Patio there's been an increase in bird life out the back too, which when you consider that for the first 9 years that we lived here I don't think I ever saw a single bird out there has to be a good thing. Saturday morning whilst we were having a brew we stood and watched some Blue Tit's picking bits of the Apple Tree and "The Emma" said "If I got one of those stand things, like a shepherds crook, I could put a feeder out there for them too". Well, thought I, I've probably got just the thing in my treasure collection. So, one quick wander out to the workshop of wonders for a bit of ReBar left over from the allotment fruit net, start a couple of bend off using the plumbing pipe bender (not recommended as it chews up the formers) followed by a good heaving on with a bit of pipe in the vice, and would you believe it! Apparently, it's just the thing. Total cost probably less than a £5 for the bit of ReBar, or free if you consider it's left over from another job. Total time, probably less than 10 minutes, and I didn't even need to leave the house. Brownie points, 100, and another tool I never knew I needed, added to the list as it would have been even quicker with a proper bender. Now, that's a result in my books! I had planned on getting away in the Van Friday night, ready for a bit of cycling on Saturday, followed by a shorter trip up to Wendover for the weekends main event of the Wendover Woods Marathon. However, having pulled the Peugot apart Friday afternoon in an attempt to fidentify the ABS problem and then ended up replacing the rear brake shoes amongst other things, I'd sort of run out of time, and couldn't really leave the Peugot as it was. So, in true tradition, plans had to change. They didn't change that much though. As by the time "The Emma" dragged herself out of bed on Saturday morning (just before 9), I'd been up, had breakfast, stripped the back wheel hubs back off the Peugot to check that my efforts in the dark the night before were right, bled the brakes, adjusted the handbrake, put the centre console back in, tidied up, put all the tools away, washed my hands and was just brewing up, leaving the rest of the day for playing out. On the downside it was a bit of a grey and damp day, certainly not ideal for my planned cycling route which covered a lot of windy, hilly roads which in the damp conditions and covered in leaves would have been a bit of a slippery mess. So, plan B, or as I like to call it "quick, think of something else to do" was called into action and I grabbed the van and headed up to Wallingford for a few miles of walking on the Ridgeway path. And lovely it was too. The views from the top of Wallingford hill were as spectacular as ever, with the Red Kites soaring majestically over the surrounding countryside as majestic as they always are. The Autumn leaves lay thick underfoot in the wooded areas, bringing back memories of Conker hunting and childhood walks as I shuffled through them. The few trees that hung on to the last of their leaves, yellow and golden in the subdued afternoon light and the damp Autumn air bringing a stillness to the world at large. I always enjoy the Autumn, despite being the end of summer, the shorter days and the feeling of decay and lethargy that it brings. On a day like today, when it's still warm enough to be out without getting cold, it's not raining and there's no wind, it's still pretty special! Just on the off chance that anyone's waded through the drivel above and is still actually interested (or still awake), I suppose I'd better mention the weekends main event, the Wendover Woods trail Marathon. A cheeky wee number, consisting of 4 laps around Wendover Woods which sit on the edge of the Chiltern Hills and unsurprisingly for the area is a bit hilly! Now, I've got some memories of being forced to run up this very hill during my initial RAF Trade Training, at nearby RAF Halton and I can tell you that they're not particularly fond memories. The thing that really sticks in my mind is it being very steep and spending most of my time blowing out my arse whilst the PTI berated us all for being too slow! If nothing else, today proved that my memories are correct and some of todays route was pretty steep. I've obviously got better at running, and fitter than I was when I was 18 though, because there was significantly less blowing from my nether regions today than back then, which can only be a positive thing. Now, as I mentioned at the start, todays course consisted of 4 10Km loops, with some pretty steep climbing and descent . The Marathon started at 08:30 and after an excellent nights sleep in the van I was ready and raring to go. Oh, Ok, I was stood shivering in the cold morning air, wishing we could just get it over and done with! I didn't have to shiver for long though, as after a quick race briefing we were off, and off pretty fast too! There was no messing around today and the guys on the front set off at a fair old pace, too fast for me, but not to worry, it's still a long way to go and lets see what happens over the first few miles. As often seems to be the case, once I'd warmed up a bit and the pace had settled down a bit, I started picking up a few places and by the time we finished the first lap I was up to 7th or 8th and seemed to be holding my position without too much effort. One lap down, 3 too go and as I started the second lap, so the half marathon runners were released right behind me. Within seconds any sense of position was gone, as the faster 1/2 runners started coming past. This could end in tears if I start trying to keep up with these guy's, they're only going 1/2 the distance and trying too keep up is a sure hiding to nothing. Run your own race and ignore everyone else, was the mantra of the day and by the time I'd completed my second lap I hadn't noticed any of the other Marathon runners come past, so had to assume I was still holding my position. Lap 3 then and I'm feeling pretty good considering this is my second Marathon in 8 days, possibly not the best race planning, but it's not all about winning, it's more about having fun as far as I'm concerned! By the end of lap 3 I'd started catching the first of the Marathon back markers and was settled into a steady and sustainable pace. Last lap then and a chance to thank the marshals for their efforts and encouragement over the previous laps as I went past. Without their giving up their time to marshal, none of this would be possible, so a few words of thanks is the least I can do. Steadily pushing on, focus on the next backmarker, close the distance, a few words of encouragement as I pass and onto the next one. If nothing else it gives me something to focus on. Coming up to the 23 mile mark, I catch sight of someone starting to close the gap behind me. That's not good, I'm pretty sure that I've not slowed down, but maybe I have? Within seconds they're lost in the twisty turns and trees behind me, all I can do is keep pushing on and hope they don't catch me at this late stage. Mile 24 and it's all up hill from here, but not far to go now. Drop the pace on the steepest bit's. but keep pushing on, I can't let the guy behind catch me now. At mile 25 I get a bit of a surprise when I spot a runner wearing a 100 Marathon top in front of me, they're unlikely to be a back marker, could it be that I'm going to catch someone in front instead of being caught? As the hill flattens slightly, I pick the pace up a bit, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, the gap is closing. I'm not sure if there's enough time to catch them before that finish line now though. 300m to go and I'm almost with them, there's nothing to lose now, I might as well throw caution to the wind and give anything that's left. 200m to go and I'm right behind them. I can't bring myself to just blow past though, and as I come up behind I say "come on buddy, don't let me get you at the line, push"! and the race is on. As soon as he hears me, he picks up the pace and I have to give it all I've got to keep up and slowly pass. I'm still not sure If I can hold him off for the final 100m though and I'm pushing as hard as I can, with 26 miles in my legs. I can hear him, pushing equally as hard just over my shoulder, but with only a handful of meters still to go I know I've got him! Coming over the line in 3:39:37 was good enough for 6th place from the 90 finishers, beating my last minute competitor by a whole 3 seconds in the end! That's a pretty good result as far as I'm concerned, my second marathon in 8 days after last Saturdays 40 mile Ultra and a total of 120 miles of running in the last 15 days certainly gives your legs something to think about.
Yep, I'm more than happy with that!
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"! 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 Unusually I got a bit lost while I was out running on Sunday morning. Well, I say unusually, it’s actually quite a common occurrence as navigation certainly isn’t one of my strong points. “The Emma” will quite happily tell you that I never know where I am and although I’ve got better over the years, I’m certainly no Captain Cook. What’s me being lost got to do with anything though, I hear you ask? And why has this week’s exciting blog post started off on such a tangent? Well, whilst being where I shouldn’t have been, I stumbled across a strategically placed information board telling the tale of 3 Spitfire pilots who had come to an unfortunate end in the fields below, during the Second World War. (Link) Pausing to reflect on the loss of 3 brave young men and take in the picturesque view of their last resting place, my thoughts turned to how many of these little placards and information boards there are scattered around our countryside and just how much history there is around us. We notice on a regular basis how every village, no matter how small, has a war memorial marking the sacrifice of their parishioners, but until we take the time to look, we miss the smaller intricacies and history of the countryside around us. I commented in a blog post back in September 2020 about Gilberts story (another unfortunate tale from the First World War) and mentioned in August how easy it is to miss the little things around us, as we tear through life at a million miles an hour, safely enclosed in our steel cocoons. It’s not just memorials to those that fell in the 2 wars that abound in our countryside either. Within a couple of miles of home there’s a plaque commemorating the part the Railway Navvies played in creating our modern railway network. Laboriously digging thousands of miles of tunnels, cuttings and embankments by hand, putting in place the network we still rely on today. The Basingstoke canal, picturesque running location and beauty spot that it is now, was built in the same manner a few years earlier and likewise carries a memorial to those that suffered and toiled to create what was the motorway network of the day. In our brave new world of automation, computerisation and endless free time it’s almost impossible to imagine the back breaking graft that went into digging these outstanding civil engineering projects by hand. But dig them by hand they did, and often faster than we can manage now with all our mechanisation. They also took the time to add a beauty and craftsman ship to the structures they constructed along the way, something which is sorely missing in our modern drive for speed, low cost and simplicity. Surely, the additional costs are worthwhile if we can create a beautiful, yet functional space, instead of a tin shack, which, whilst functional does nothing to enhance the area around it and will be just another eyesore in a few years time. No matter where we look human hands have had some part in shaping the countryside we inhabit today. Whether that be prehistoric man moving massive stones to build their Henge's and burial mounds, or middle age castles, with their impressive fortifications and earthworks, to more modern times, with the introduction of mechanised farming and the creation of larger fields and massive transport and infrastructure projects. A lot of these things go unnoticed as we rush around trying to fit as much into each day as we can. Something I’m as guilty of as the next man. The joy of running, walking and cycling though is that you’re out in the countryside and by travelling at a slower pace you have plenty of time on your hands to look around, take in the world around you and spot those little intricacies. Even travelling at cycling and running speed it’s amazing how much you miss compared to walking. I’ve cycled the same routes many times and not noticed things until I’ve laced up my walking boots and plodded slowly along the same piece of road. Back roads and county lanes often have small plaques and strategically placed benches (ideal for a lunch stop) placed in memory of some local character or noteworthy occurrence, details we miss as we speed past in the car. Likewise, Churchyards carry a wealth of history from times when the church was the focal point of village life and often offer a secluded and sheltered spot for the weary traveler to rest awhile and contemplate their journey. As we fly through life at a million miles an hour, cramming more and more into each day, maybe we are missing out on some of the more important things in life. Trapped in our cars and centrally heated houses we can’t hear the birds singing or feel the bite of the cold North wind on our face as we struggle into it. Sitting at a computer all day we don’t feel the tiredness and aches that come from having put in a solid days toil. Moving bit’s of paper from one pile to another we miss out on the satisfaction of standing back at the end of the day to admire our handiwork with a sense of pride, or being able to say to your grandchildren in years to come “I made that”. I’m not suggesting for one second that we go back to “the old days”, progress is progress and should be embraced, but I think that there’s a lot to be said for getting outside, enjoying the world around us and slowing down a bit. I suspect some sage or philosopher will have uttered the immortal words “the slower you go the more you see” at some point, and if we slow down and look around it’s amazing what we will see! In other (actual) news, you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve finally made some more progress on “Project Patio”, turning my attentions to the final area (for now). The plan for this bottom bit is a row of slabs around the periphery with a gravel infill. Originally the whole area was slabbed over but I think it needs something to break up the monotony of just slabs and as there’s a drain cover right in the middle which needs to be accessible (don’t get me started on that one previous builders!) I think gravels the best bet. The paved perimeter will still provide plenty of hard standing for some plant pots for a bit of summer colour and give easy access to the washing line and shed so that’s the current plan. You’ll also be pleased to know that the cabbage seeds I sowed a couple of weeks ago have finally broken through the surface of the compost. There’s no sign of the Sweet Peas or Broad Beans yet but I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Looking back at this time last year we seemed to be a few weeks ahead on the growing front, so I guess that this year’s been a bit colder than 2020 was. By 24 Feb last year I had sweet peas and cabbages sprouted in the greenhouse which is a good 2 weeks earlier. My fingers and toes certainly think it’s been chilly when I’ve been out and about on the bike and I’m not going to argue with that! One to share just because! I stopped here for a brew when I was out on my bike Saturday morning. With the early Spring sunshine glinting through the trees it was just stunning. Looking at the photo now just makes me want to pull on my running or walking shoes and get out there and investigate where this path goes to! |
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
March 2024
Categories
All
|