Good news everyone, apparently, it’s the start of Spring, both meteorologicaly and calendar wise, which means things will continue getting better on a daily basis from here on in. Obviously, that’s ignoring the almost traditional snow at Easter, April’s torrential showers, the endless gales that tend to blow through April which strip all the fruit blossom off my fruit trees, and a last-minute late frost in May which will kill everything that’s trying to grow on the allotment.
No of course not, it’s all going to be plain sailing from here on in, and to that end this weekend I’ve managed to sun burn the bald bits on my head and enjoy some unseasonably warm moments on the allotment. OK I’ll admit that it was only really warm in the greenhouse, but why let the truth overshadow a good news story. So, what have I been up too this weekend then? Well, for a start as I mentioned above, I had a few hours on the allotment on Saturday afternoon, mainly spent in the greenhouse alternating between hiding from the showers and slowly roasting when the sun came out. It’s all or nothing this time of the year! A couple of hours pottering around saw the greenhouse staging re-erected, although if I’m honest I’m not sure how much longer it’s going to last. I made this set of staging when I got my first greenhouse back in 2002 and considering that it spends all summer outside and the rest of the year in a damp greenhouse it’s lasted pretty well. It’s getting a bit rickety now though and I think it’s time that I made a new set before this lot totally collapses and takes everything else with it, that’s not going to happen any time soon though. Maybe a job for next winter! Anyway, staging aside, those couple of hours were pretty productive and I managed to sow, Sweet Peas, Cabbages, Sprouts, Kale, early Carrots, early Peas, Nicotonia and Broad Beans in trays in the greenhouse and get some Shallot sets into the ground outside too, all of which join the Chillies, Geraniums and Petunias that got started in a propagator on a warm windowsill at home midweek. There’s still a long way to go until the hazy days of summer, but those first signs of new growth are coming thick and fast. The new Rhubarb crowns and Raspberry plants that I bought and planted at the back end of last year are all showing signs of new growth, although the Blackberries that I got at the same time don’t seem to be up to much. All of the established fruit bushes have lots of buds on them, and I noticed that the fruit trees at home look like they’re about to burst back into life too. Likewise, the daffodils are in full bloom and the Polyanthus are adding their splash of colour to the gardens along with the Crocuses, although the wallflowers seem to have succumbed to the really cold spell we had earlier in the year which is unusual. You can’t win them all though and that’s part of the fun of gardening (allegedly).
Odd jobs, bike cleaning and the misery of shopping wrapped up, along with getting things off to a start on the allotment, left the rest of the weekend to the main event. The Cerne Giant 30 Mile Challenge event, another of the LDWA’s showcase challenge events, starting and finishing in the picturesque village of Cerne Abbas, deep in the Dorset countryside.
Before I get into the roots of the event itself, I just need to comment on the dark! Having taken the van down on Saturday night ready for an early start on Sunday, I found a nice quiet little spot in the middle of nowhere for the night. The rain had cleared leaving a clear sky and without the light pollution that I’m used to coming from the metropolis of Basingstoke, I was treated to an almost idyllic night sky. Warm enough to sit outside with a brew, I spent a good few minutes gazing up in awe at the brightness and clarity of the night sky. I’m no star gazer, but without the light pollution we normally live with there were stars aplenty to admire, it’s just such a shame that we can’t normally see them against the background of streetlights! Sunday morning, just as the sun started to brighten the night sky, I was treated to the sound of new born lambs coming from the field opposite my parking spot, and birdsong from the trees behind, as I lay in bed thinking about waking up. Idyllic! Peering outside once I’d had a brew, it looked pretty idyllic too, the sun was shining, the ground was wet from yesterday’s rain, the lambs were frolicking in the fields, Daffodils shone brightly in the morning sun, and everything looked good with the world. With the sun quickly warming the morning it wasn’t hard to make the decision to abandon the running tights and thermal top that have been my faithful companion through the long winter days in favour of shorts and a lighter top, thin gloves, and not much else. Walking down to the start with the fresh air blowing round my ankles which have been hidden for so long was refreshing and reminded me of those summer days still to come, although I carefully packed some long trousers and a jacket into my running pack just in case. Better to lug extra clothes round for 30 miles then get caught out and suffer!
Booking in and collecting my route card was a slickly organised affair and after a few minutes making final adjustments to my kit, then doing it again once I’d realised that I was still wearing my glasses which needed packing too, I was ready for the off at just after 08:30.
I’ve probably mentioned before that LDWA challenge events are a bit like Audax in that you have to prove proof of passing through the relevant checkpoints within a certain time frame. As we all walk at different speeds (it is supposed to be a walking event at the end of the day) checkpoints open and close to suit the pace of fast and slower walkers, and as such, as a runner it’s possible to get in front of the checkpoint opening times, resulting in standing around waiting to get timestamped for your proof of passage. To that end it makes sense to depart towards the end of the start time window, giving the walkers a head start and slowly catching them up as the day progresses. A final few words with the lovely volunteer checking us out, and I was off into the unknown. Unusually, nervous butterflies played with my mind as I set off. Having not run all week due to my knees being sore and painful, there’s always the feeling that today might not be my day and should I actually start? (Not that a week’s rest made any difference, but I set off regardless knowing that I could always pull out or cut the day short if needed). The weeks rain had left the first few miles along well-trodden footpaths, muddy and slippery underfoot, but with the sun shining and the route soon climbing steeply away from the valley floor onto drier ground I was in my element. Within the first few miles any worries about my knees had rescinded to the back of my mind (although running probably wasn’t the best idea as they’re stiff and sore today) and I soon settled into an easy pace, taking the time to ensure my head was up taking in the views.
Those first few miles fairly flew by, and bar a short diversion where I missed a turning and everyone behind followed me, it wasn’t long before the first checkpoint at Lyscombe hove into view. This is the real beauty of these LDWA events, I’d never in a million years have found this idyllic little spot with its 12th century chapel and ruined cottages. But the local knowledge of the organisers had ensured its inclusion for today’s route and all of the LDWA events which I’ve been to have done a fabulous job of showcasing the hidden gems in their locality, which makes travelling just that little bit further than I normally would worthwhile.
I can’t stand around sightseeing all day though, there’s still a lot of miles to cover before the day is done and it’s straight back up hill as the route climbs back out from the shelter of the valley.
Steep sided valleys, with picturesque villages sheltering from the wind and weather at the bottom provide a welcome distraction from the miles ahead. The long steep climbs are rewarded by outstanding views across miles of countryside from the high points. Sheep, some with lambs in tow graze on the grassland as they have since man first tamed this wild countryside, shaping the terrain and vegetation with their endless grazing. Crystal clear streams transport rainwater from the hill tops on its way to the sea. Bird song fills the wooded areas where Catkins adorn the trees and signs of new life are starting to burst from the undergrowth. Yet the winds still got an icy edge to it when it catches you on the hilltops, or as it whistles down the valleys, reminding us that winters not quite done with us yet. Taking no notice of that chilly wind, Skylarks sing from the grassland, competing with the sound of farmers going about their business, ploughing, seeding, and checking on their sheep, making ready for the start of another productive year. And slowly the miles tick down. Proof of passage in the form of a self-administered clip mark on my route card at Binghams Melcombe. The marker hanging neatly from the post-box as the route sheet said it would, accompanied by a polite note informing the inquisitive of its purpose and requesting it remain in place to be collected at days end by the tail marker. And then onwards to the next stop at Buckland Newton. And what a stop it is, the lovely volunteers have outdone themselves. Trestle tables groan under the weight of homemade sandwiches and delicious cakes, whilst a friendly voice asks if they can get you anything, water, tea, squash, cake, biscuits, nothing is too much trouble, and it’s with a heavy heart and full stomach that I have to tear myself away from this little haven of British hospitality and generosity, to push on.
Moving on as the morning turns towards afternoon, the sun continues to shine slowly burning my exposed head, and all remains good in the world. Despite the mounting miles my knees seem to be holding up, and I feel like I’m still moving fairly well. In fact, I must be doing OK as when we re-join the 20-mile route I’m steadily catching and slowly passing those in front that have taken the shorter of the day’s options.
Slowly the miles tick down until I approach the final checkpoint at Sydling St Nicholas where the GPS route that I’ve been following takes me away from the quiet stretch of road that had been leading the way into town and onto a footpath beside a stream, which then becomes a dead end. At which point my GPS indicates that I’m off route? Retracing my steps, whilst looking confusingly at the little screen, I come across the two runners who were just behind, who are also looking confusedly at various GPS implements. Retracing our steps back to the road it looks like the road will take us to the next checkpoint anyway, so we set off that way. A few minutes lost, but that’s not a major problem in the big scheme of things, and a nice lady, busy tending her front garden, soon confirms that the village hall we are aiming for is indeed just down the road, so we push slowly on to the final checkpoint and another warm welcome. Cards scanned and clipped, confirming attendance and proof of passage, I refill my water bottle, grab a slice of cake from the delightful spread and a handful of salty crisps and push on, devouring my tasty treats as I work my way back up the next climb, as the guys I’d arrived at the checkpoint with slowly extended their lead as they pull away up the hill.
It shouldn’t be much further now and that’s confirmed as I slog up another steep incline with rapidly tiring legs and come up behind a smartly dressed gentleman, complete with Tyrolean hat and walking poles out making the most of the spring sunshine. Slowing my ascent to say “good afternoon”, he enquires after my destination and then informs me that it’s almost all downhill from here.
It’s with a lightened heart at that bit of good news that I bid him farewell and push on, ready to enjoy those last few miles of glorious downhill which he’s promised me. 20 minutes and 2 miles later and I’m still slogging uphill. Granted it’s not that steep, but with 28 miles in my legs it’s hard work. Why - oh – why did I believe that nice gentleman with his promise of it being all downhill! There’s even a great big aerial which I can see at the top signifying that the next turning point must be the highest point around! Eventually, I arrive at the top and instantly start the promised descent. This isn’t much better through as my tired leg muscles scream in protest at having to try and slow my descent down the steep slope and my feet struggle for grip on the greasy, muddy, slippery, surface.
One more small climb, and then around the next corner, confirmation that the ends not far away, as the Cerne Giant, looking resplendent in the sunshine, fills the view, with the village of Cerne Abbas and the days final destination nestled in the valley off to the Right hand side.
And that’s it, another mile and the days done. I’m back at the start with 31.8 miles covered in 6 hours and 15 minutes, to a warm welcome, a plate of delicious bean stew and a bowl of rice pudding. As far as I’m concerned you can keep you medals, commemorative T shirts, route marked courses and goody bags. I’ll take a beautiful route, a warm welcome, a slice of home-made cake and a bowl of rice pudding any day thank you. There’s no doubt about it the LDWA certainly know how to put on an event, and I can’t wait to come back and do this one again!
And just before I go, it was "The Emmas" birthday last week. Can you guess how old she is?
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Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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