Before I start this week, you might have picked up on a bit of a theme running through the last few weeks blog posts. That theme being the fact that it's been a bit damp recently. You might also recall that I commented a few weeks ago about the bucket that's in the garden that was half full of rain.
Well, you'll all be pleased to know that when I looked on Saturday morning it was no longer half full, it was fully full. Now, I mentioned the other week that I know for a fact that the bucket in question was empty on the 17th December, because I used it to wash my bike and emptied it out afterwards. So from that I can confidently deduce that we have had at least 8 1/2 inches of rain in the last 28 days, most of which is in my shoes!
Now I’ve finished moaning about the weather. Sunday saw a return to muddy running fun in the form of The Winter Tanners. A 30 mile circular route from Leatherhead taking in some of the highlights of the Surrey Hills and surrounding environs. Organised, (superbly as always) by our friends at the LDWA.
The real joy of The Winter Tanners, apart from the fact its running and when is that not fun, is that it takes a different route every year, so it’s always new and exciting, and as such I’d been looking forward to this one for a while. Luckily, the weather forecast for Sunday appeared to show that we might be getting a break in the monsoon, before a colder spell next week, so I’d packed up the van Saturday afternoon, complete with options for just about every weather outcome I could think of, and set off for the start after tea, ready for an early night and an early(ish) start on Sunday morning. Obviously, the weather Gods look down favourably on the LDWA. As, just like last year, Sunday dawned dry but chilly. Having sensibly pre-empted just such a situation, chilly wasn’t going to be an issue and after a leisurely breakfast I headed down to the start, complete with multiple layers, Down jacket and some spare dry gloves and other assorted extra clothes, just in case. As the name suggests, LDWA events are set up for walkers, not us silly runners, and as such there’s no rush to get started. Like Audax, arrival times at the checkpoints are controlled (within a set time window) and as a runner it’s fairly easy to get ahead of the first control opening times if you’re not careful, which results in standing around getting cold whilst waiting for the checkpoint to open before you can get checked in. As such there’s no point departing too early, and there’s no point going hell for leather. It’s all about getting out in the open air, enjoying the day and taking in the majesty of what are always amazingly scenic routes. Today was not exception, and I set off at 08:30, still dressed for the arctic, complete with Down jacket, gloves, arm warmers, hat, scarf and kitchen sink, planning on having a steady plod and leisurely day.
A few easy miles in the early morning sunshine alongside the flooded River Mole, gave me a chance to warm up, and within a couple of miles I was stopped removing my jacket and rearranging my layers for some more sensible running attire. An idea which soon proved sensible, as within the next couple of miles things went sharply uphill as we crossed the A24 and started the ascent of Box hill.
Climbing steadily upwards along tracks familiar from The knacker Cracker the views over Dorking and the surrounding countryside slowly opened out as we crawled steadily skywards, both rewarding the effort and providing a justifiable excuse to pause for a while to both get your breath back and take in the view.
Don’t pause for too long though, the view might be magnificent but there’s still work to be done and what goes up must come back down again. So, over the top and start the long descent back down again. Reach the bottom via the unevenly spaced steps, cross the A25 and were on to flatter ground as we skirt around Brockham.
The flatter ground brings challenges of its own though, in the form of waterlogged and muddy paths. Slip Sliding along, we pass the traffic chaos caused by families trying to get parked for a children’s football tournament. Rather them than me and I’ll bet that there were a few Chelsea tractors stuck on the muddy field at the end of the day. Not my problem though, it’s shank’s pony for me today and I’m making steady progress as I continue on towards Checkpoint one, still trying to dodge the puddles and the worst of the muddy bits. A situation which won’t last much longer, but it’s nice to have dry feet whilst you can.
8.5 miles done and the first checkpoint appears. Present my card to the marshals to register my arrival and then refill my water bottle and grab a hot cross bun from the fine spread on offer, before heading back out again. Minimal stop time and push on. Just like on an Audax, stopping is where all the time gets lost. Grab and go, and sort yourself out once you’re moving again is the best and most efficient option in my opinion.
Any thoughts of dry feet were firmly dashed as soon as we departed checkpoint one. Gone are the nicely maintained, if muddy, paths, and were straight into flatter open countryside, hugging the hedge line of waterlogged fields, ankle deep in puddles and sticky, slippery, mud. I’ll admit that the next 9 miles was a bit of a slog, mile after mile of flat, muddy, waterlogged meadows and slippery, recently cultivated fields. It’s all part of the fun though, and you can’t have the high spots and stunning views without the transitional sections. Head down, concentrate on trying to place your feet and push on. With every step your feet sink ankle deep into the soft waterlogged earth and you have to pull them free again, the wet mud clinging to your shoes like icy fingers from below the surface, threatening to pull your shoes from your feet as you wrench them free, the cold muddy water seeping through your shoes and socks and puddling between your toes, before releasing its grip, allowing you to repeat the process with every step. Struggling for grip going uphill on the gentle inclines and struggling to stay on your feet as you slither down the other side again, it's like ice skating on mud, or a new born Giraffe trying to find its feet. Oh, what fun! I spent my childhood being told off for getting wet and muddy, now that there’s no one to tell me off and I’m doing it by choice, the novelty seems to have worn off a bit! Eventually though, legs caked in mud, muddy water squelching from soaked shoes and socks with every step, checkpoint 2 arrives and with it the friendly faces of the amazing volunteers who have given up their Sunday to provide a little bit of civilisation at the side of a barn in the middle of nowhere. Stop for a quick chat, refill my bottles, pick up a couple of salty crackers and rearrange my backpack for the next leg and then onwards before the cold starts to eat at my wet lower body and sweaty upper half.
Things get better for the next section as we make the turn to head back towards the start location.
Leaving behind the flatter waterlogged low laying areas we head back up hill. A mile or so of steady (and steep) climbing sees the top of Leith Hill with its familiar tower, dog walkers, mountain bikers, picnicking families and couples hoping for a romantic few minutes as they take in the stunning view towards the South Downs and the sea beyond. I’ve not seen a single person for the last few hours (apart from those running and walking alongside me) and now I know why, there all here queuing for a coffee from the little shop at the base of the tower. No time to join the Queue or take in the view today though, there’s a long slow descent to come as I head back towards the North Downs and the next checkpoint, the top of which is clearly visible off in the distance as I start to descend. It’s beautiful running this, gently downhill, along soft, sandy, well drained trails. The next few miles come easily despite tired legs, and I take the opportunity to get a few more calories on board as I plod along. Calories that are going to be desperately needed very soon, as I can see the North Downs with the steep climb that I know awaits, looming large ahead. All too soon that long climb arrives and with it some company, as we re-join the walkers on the 20-mile route who are themselves slowly plodding up the hill. Shared acknowledgment of the struggles and joys in hand are part of what makes these events special. It doesn’t even need a word on most occasions, just a shared glance as you pass like ships in the night, each enjoying the moment for what it is and each happy with their own thoughts, the joy of being outdoors on a fine winter’s day, and unspoken company.
Over the top again, through the final checkpoint and there’s only a few more miles of fairly easy running left now. Surprisingly, considering the distance and terrain already covered I’m still feeling pretty good. My slow start and steady pacing, have obviously paid dividends. Why can’t I do that when it really matters?
Those last few miles seem to pass in a blur and before I know it, I’m heading back into Leatherhead. The birdsong, peace and tranquillity of the open countryside, replaced by the noise of traffic as the “normal” people go about their Sunday afternoons. Muddy, wet, bedraggled, but happy, I pause at the roadside waiting for a gap in the traffic and when it finally comes cross, and gently jog the last few meters back to the start. 31 Miles in 6 hours and 7 minutes, not fast by any measure, but today wasn’t about times. It was about a beautiful route through some stunning countryside, it was about being outside in the fresh air and having a great time. And it more than lived up to that billing. There’s no better way to spend your weekend than with like minded people, all of whom are enjoying themselves and creating memories which will last a lifetime. Hopefully I’ve got plenty more running years ahead of me to keep on creating those memories, and all the time I can keep on running in the great outdoors I will, but when I’m too old and tired to run anymore? Well, I’ll just do what the LDWA was set up to do. I’ll walk!
In other news, I had a message from the person that has the allotment opposite mine one evening in the week, to say that all the sheds had been broken in to again. So I nipped up there in the rain, and yes indeed, some nice person had prised the lock off my shed door and all the others in our block.
It's not the first time and I'm sure that it wont be the last (it's actually at least the 4th time in the last 10 years) and for that reason the locks only held on with little screws and it's only a cheap padlock anyway. My thoughts being that if someone wants to get in to my shed then I'd rather they did it without doing any other damage, so the locks only a bit of lip service to a deterrent. Anyway, as with previous incursions, nothings missing from my shed (what does anyone think your going to have in an allotment shed that's worth nicking anyway?). But what's different this time, is the fact that whoever decided that our property should be theirs, came equipped for the job, as they've neatly cut through 2 layers of chain link fencing to get in. Why they thought that was necessary I've no idea, as they could have just climbed over the fence, but there you go. The council will eventually fix the fence, but don't hold your breath, so I've been up there this weekend and carried out a bit of a temporary repair using a pallet and some stakes from my side of the fence. It won't keep out the bolt cropper equipped idiot, but it might slow them down a bit. Oh, and I obviously don't want my pallet or stakes to get rotten, so it's had a liberal coating of old engine oil to preserve it too. I just hope no one tries to move it, because old engine oil is a right bugger to get out of your clothes!
And finally for this week, something completely different.
Last year, when my little run around Peugeot went for it's MOT, it had an advisory for uneven braking on the rear axle, and the tester said that although it was an advisory he had struggled to get a pass on it and it really needed looking at. Anyhow, being the conscientious person I am, I did indeed have a look at it, and replaced the brake shoes, hardware and cylinders and bled through all the old brake fluid. However, whilst I've done all that work, I never actually found anything wrong with it, so I've no idea if it's fixed or not. Which left me with a bit of a problem. Do I just put it in for it's MOT this year and hope my previous work fixed the issue? Or do I do a bit more investigation while I've got the time, and try to prove where the problem may be? Well, I decided that the latter is probably the best approach and the next logical step would be to see what brake pressure we are actually getting at the rear wheels. If both sides are the same we can happily say it's probably fixed, and if not then it's a brake shoe issue. But if they're not both the same then the problem still exists and its something else. The easiest way to confirm what brake pressure we've got is to fit a couple of gauges into the system. The only problem being, the cheapest set of test gauges I could find were £150 and I wasn't paying that for a one off job! So, thinking hat on. All I needed to do was get from the brake cylinder bleed screw fitting, to the test gauge fitting, one of which was an M8 male thread, and the other of which is a female 1/4" BSP. Nothings ever simple is it! After a bit of thinking (running provides plenty of thinking time), I sourced a couple of gauges and a selection of fittings for less than £30 and set too. Now, in the interest of transparency and just to prove that my ideas don't always work, my first idea was to drill out a bleed nipple to fit a bit of brake pipe, solder the two together and then join everything up from there. Which I did last week. However whilst this seemed to work, I wasn't very happy with the soldering, and wasn't convinced that it would hold the pressure required. So I jiggled together a bit of a test set up, and as predicted, the first version started weeping at 500 PSI, and the second one held at 1000 PSI, but I still wasn't happy!
With version one a bit of a non success, I had 2 options. Either carry on down the same route, but the next step would be to braze the fittings which should hold (have you seen the price of brazing rod and flux though), or make a solid adaptor.
So a couple of hours in the shed whilst it was tipping it down on Saturday morning, and;
So now all I need, is for it to stop raining for long enough to actually get under the car without getting soaked and we should be able to see what we've got brake pressure wise, and all for considerably less than the cost of the cheapest off the shelf version I could find anywhere.
Granted I've used thousands of pounds worth of tools to do so, but we'll just ignore that little fact!
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
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
|