How to ramble .....

I've recently read a really funny article about rambling and laughed out loud at some of the comments - thought you might like to share it ..... (it's quite scary how true some of this is .....)

One of the unintended consequences of cutbacks in rail services has been the relentless rise in rambling. When there are few trains to spot, dull people start walking around aimlessly and inevitably start rambling.

Ramblers have boiled sweets in flavours so repulsive you'd rather eat your own leg in an emergency situation. They wear high tech anoraks that wick heat and moisture away from their bodies and release it into the noses of other ramblers. Ramblers have big boots. This is to stop them falling over when they've had their second pint of real ale at the end of their epic four mile ramble.

Ramblers travel in packs and are always led by a man or woman with a beard and a big knobbly stick. He's known as Ramblo. Ramblers have maps in perspex holders (so they won't get soaked by all the moisture being wicked away from their bodies). With these detailed maps and large compasses, they can work out that they're three hundred yards from the car park.

Ramblers engage in conversation when they walk, and it's no surprise that they tend to ramble. In any pack of ramblers you'll have someone who knows a bit about birds, someone who knows a bit about plants, and someone who knows a bit about soils. The upshot of this is that you can't move five yards without one of them piping up with a half hour lecture on the fascinating clays that everyone's big boots are currently sinking into.

Ramblers love unspoilt countryside, and sometimes you can spot great packs of brightly coloured ramblers grinding through the country getting the maximum enjoyment from it. Ramblers think that the best way of seeing the country is to walk directly behind some achingly dull cagouled idiot for six hours.

You can always tell a rambler because they're dressed for the Himalayas. They're the ones carrying the emergency bivouac, Primus stove and distress flares on the Thames towpath. Long distance paths do a great service to society by keeping ramblers in remote parts of the country for extended periods and well away from normal people.

Defeated by the Angles Way .....

Finn and I were having a day on the Angles Way today from Earsham (near Bungay) to Harleston - only eleven miles and flat - lovely, just how we like it!

As we walked through a meadow alongside a river, we were soon thwarted though after only three miles to discover the bridge that we needed to cross was no longer there :-( We retraced our steps and tried to find another path to link up with the footpath so that we could carry on, but were out of luck there also - the field was criss crossed with electric fences and was just too much of an obstacle. Added to this, Finn had by now rolled in at least four cowpats so I couldn't imagine that any bus/taxi driver would let us within fifty yards of their vehicle. Time to call it a day and head back to the car.

So the day's plan was then redrawn and a diversion was made via a garden centre for compost and a fun afternoon ensued in the garden building more brick walls and planting out shrubs.

And, although the walk was aborted, I still maintain I DID my eleven miles today, most of them chasing Finn around the garden to give him a bath. Bloody dog!

Yorkshire 3 peaks - The walkers tale

Finally the long awaited day had come, the drive up to the Dales for the the Yorkshire 3 peaks challenge. Late afternoon 3 cars descended onto Kearstwick and our base camp. OK will come clean, nothing like Everest Base Camp but a rather posh 5 bedroom cottage, but the trepidation was there for some! After a gossip catch up with Rachel about the Lotus F1 team a walk down to the Orange Tree to satisfy rumbling tummies was next on the agenda and arrival of Amanda and Marti. Their late departure saw them stuck in traffic and had tried to contact us on 3 separate mobiles, but all went to voice mail for various reasons. My voice mail went something along the lines of we are passing Maidstone, going to be late, will introduce myself properly when I see you but I am sensible, followed by which button do I press to stop this message? Yes we had our first taste of Marti, a new addition to the "Tears for Bears" family. The girls duly arrived (via Aberdeen apparently) and tucked in to some decent grub. We must of cleared the pub out of Gammon Steaks? Once again Jocky didn't clear his plate, his reputation is fading fast!

So Saturday morning dawned to a frost and by 7am where up and out and on the road to Horton. Amanda and Karren as support crew, the rest starting the walk. Met up with Ian and Rob and at 7.50am passed the Cafe, we were off! Ian had done this several times before although as it turned out there were loads of people, obviously a popular challenge, so as long as the others knew where they were going we could be sheep and follow them! Our challenge was to do the 3 peaks which entailed a 24.5 mile circuit in under 12 hours.

So up to Pen-y-ghent (694 metres - 2,276 feet) we went, quickly the layers started to be removed and the first emergency of the day. Marti needed a hair band! But thanks to Jocky's TA training, a toggle off the rucksack was used to manufacture a solution, sorted! With Finn leading the way we soon reached the base of the scramble. Ian by now was convinced I was a Japanese Tourist (taking pictures), but as the rest know, I do have fun playing with the results! So up we went, peak one, time for Rachel to exorcise her demons. On trail trekkers the words of "never again" were uttered. Didn't seem as bad this time or maybe it was because we hadn't been walking 10 hours beforehand? Finally we where there, all present and correct. With Blue skies, you could see for miles, truly breath taking thanks to the views and the wind!!! Gazing across to Whernside (peak number 2), it seems absolute miles, but the Viaduct could be seen and would be our first support crew stop.

So down Pen-y-ghent we go across a boggy bit and a good pace in glorious sunshine with all in good spirits. Pace was good, actually very good so a text sent to say we would arrive early. But mobile reception was soon lost again and on arrival at Ribblehead (midday), no sign of the support crew. But Jocky and his full size rucksack which had everything bar the kitchen sink produced some goodies. The sight if the Princess Elizabeth steam train crossing the viaduct got the boys dashing for there camera's and a reminder that I had a thigh strain and shouldn't of done that! The arrival of the girls and grub saw Ian and Rob look flabbergasted, they obviously hadn't heard about our feasts but didn't turn down the opportunity to replenish the spent calories. Rachel decided to give her knee a rest and join us for the third peak so the girls retired to the pub and rest of us set off.

Along the railway, past a small waterfall and then up a long constant incline to the Whernside ridge, the highest point of Yorkshire (736 metres - 2,415 feet). Many found this hard going, looking up ahead, people looked like ants but bit by bit up we went. Finn was going strong and got the impression was taking Susan for a walk, not the other way around, while Steve had a family reunion! Eventually we reach the top, it was 2.15pm, Pen-y-ghent was on the horizon. Seemed difficult to believe we had waked all that way. Reaching this point raised the spirit and looking across to Ingleborough, we had a real purpose in our step. But when ever you go up, you have to go down, unless you have an helicopter ( But as Rachel had pointed out earlier, we should be careful as the rescue helicopter was grounded, thats thinking ahead for you!!!) so had no choice and as many found this the worst bit. The next pub stop was reached and surprise surprise inside was the support crew who didn't move an inch and bunged us the car keys to resupply!

So to the final stage, Susan's knee's where not happy so decided to call it a day as did Rachel. Marti who had never walked more than 16 miles and thought she would do one peak, possibly two at a push, now had a decision? But this was helped along by the announcement by Amanda there was now no room left in the car for anyone else! So after declaring Marti an honorary boy much to her dismay. Ian, Rob, Steve, Tristan, Jocky and Marti set off for the final peak, it was now 4.10pm, 3 hours 40 minutes left.

In many ways Ingleborough looks the most imposing. At 723 metres 2,372 feet its only 44 feet lower and there is no obvious way up. But as you got nearer most of us took a gulp as we could just make out the zigzag path up, if Rachel had seen that, that would of been an instant 180 degree's turn! But we hadn't come all this way to turn back now and up close it wasn't so daunting although a number of brief stops on the way up helped and actually scaled it in 14 minutes. We were there, on the top plateau, looking like a lunar landscape. A last climb saw us to a wind break and the trig point, We had done it! Although for one member this didn't sink in for several minutes!!! Of course by now we had become cocky, no peak was too high and we demanded a 4th! But looking at the watch needed to get back to Horton.

The decent was a tricky at first but became easier with Jocky suddenly demanding that we opened out our legs further! By this time of the day, the team joke was that Marti, how can we put it, has something to say about everything! But determined to prove this was untrue went on a silence which would last until we got to the pub, an hour away. Difficult to convey in a Blog but we had great fun trying to make Marti say something be it via phantom phone calls demanding her attention to sudden off the cuff remarks. But as hard as we tried, we kept failing. Steve treated us to one if his Happy Dances, so asked Marti if she had one. A dead fly impression in silence prevailed and had us in stitches plus the walkers following us! So through the Limestone pavement we went, still trying to get Marti to speak as well as trying to give Jocky the run around and before we knew it Horton was in sight. We had hit the village and reached the cafe at 11 hours and 35 minutes. Ha, no problem, call that a challenge!

Said good bye to Ian and Rob (Marti was still in silence and felt a bit embarrassed) so made our way to the pub. A freelander passed and thinking it was them (Ian/Rob), we all waved, but it wasn't, the occupants must of been well confused? So to the door Marti sprints, challenge completed, words of joy followed by the dead fly impression with full sound affects surrounded by loads of walkers, classic!

Suitably refreshed and no "Tristans" having taken place back to the cottage to find the girls had run out of wine, so all in all an excellent time was had by all! The following day it has to said, Jocky was doing a good impression of John Wayne and Marti had found a way to go down stairs side ways quite elegantly. Such are the sacrifices on a Tears for Beers weekend. Another classic which for me, will remember for ever... :o)

Yorkshire Three Peaks Weekend

The weekend started for Marti and I after an early shift at work where I learnt a new nursing skill I was desperate to practice on the walking team - enemas!!!!

The journey north was fairly eventful, punctuated by Marti forgetting to tell me where to come off the motorway because she had climbed into the backseat to liberate her chipsticks from the boot because they were taunting her, and several near misses due to being unable to find the directions, the map, Steve's email instructions and finally my phone. Eventually this was found under the passenger seat and we left several voicemail messages for the team informing them of our progress which for some reason caused a certain amount of hysteria on our part. Finally at around 9pm we arrived at the pub following a detour via Aberdeen and Maidstone.

Saturday morning saw us all up bright and early and on our way to the starting point. In order to foster team spirit, the walkers all travelled together in Jocky's car and Karran and I (aka support crew extraordinaire) followed in mine, desperately trying to keep up. I'm sure Jocky sees himself as Emerson Fitipaldi!

At first Karran and I were nervous about spending the day together as we had nothing really in common - apart from being born 3 days apart; being mothers of twins; working in social/healthcare settings; having not the slightest intention of walking this (or any other) weekend; not paying any attention to Jocky when he is telling us where to go or following his directions..... In fact, neither of us could actually remember how we got to the starting point because we were too busy nattering and not paying attention to the route!

After a fond farewell (!) Karran and I breathed a sigh of relief and returned to the cottage (which we would never have found without purloining Jocky's SatNav) to make the sandwiches and pasta salads and to pack my car with sustenance. We also decorated the cottage with (pink) balloons and banner for Rachel's surprise birthday party later that evening.

Good progress was made over Pen-y-Ghent and Karran and I were summonsed 90 minutes early, so after a quick pit stop in Kirby to buy batteries, jelly babies, deep heat and drugs, we travelled to the meeting point at the Ribblehead Viaduct. This journey was not pleasant and ended with me falling out with the SatNav because the snarky bitch kept telling me to 'turn round immediately' and to 'learn to drive'. I'm not kidding.

After a quick refuel, the walkers continued on to Peak No 2 minus Rachel who had been medically retired from taking any further part in the proceedings. Karran, Rachel and I made the executive decision to wait in the pub rather than return to the cottage where we spent a pleasant couple of hours in front of the fire waiting for Whernside to be conquered. (Well I think it was Whernside - I did check with one of the walkers and was told ' I think it was Whernside but you better check with someone who gives a sh1t. All I know is that I didn't like it!)

Susan was medically retired at the next pit stop and so Karran and I did our St John's Ambulance bit and took Rachel, Susan and Finn back to the cottage to rest and recuperate. As a nurse I was extremely worried about their hydration levels and not wanting another 'Tristan' incident, I immediately prescribed them 5 bottles of wine to be consumed before Steve, Jocky, Tristan and Marti returned to base camp, triumphant at having conquered all 3 peaks in under 12 hours.

Following a raucous dinner of steak cobblers, followed by spotted dick and birthday cake we all eventually retired to bed. All in all a fantastic weekend!

Over to one of the walkers for their perspective......

Barcelona!

After Susan's week of Arctic survival training back in February in Yorkshire. It was my time to do something slightly different so to keep the "Tears for Beers" tradition going! This time in the shape of the Barcelona Marathon, OK I did one back in September, but believe me it gets no easier for number two, as you know what's coming!

Training was suppose to be 15 week training program starting in December tailored for a 3 Hour 30 finish time, but thanks to work, missed the first two weeks, followed by another 10 days over Xmas/new year thanks to the snow and ice. But got stuck in as best I could. This was harder than last time as included efforts. I consider it all as an effort, but to the club runners it's silly things like running up and down hills multiple times, doing stop start circuits all stuff to improve your speed. I'm not a club runner so headed off by myself in my own MP3 world. For January all it seemed to do is make my legs continually ache and was a test on motivation, training on cold, dark, icy nights is not fun. But February saw the benefits and smashing 4 minutes off my half marathon time on a training run. Maybe 3.30 would be feasible although I boycotted the last few training runs as felt continually tired this couldn't be right?

So there I stood at the Placa Espanya, Barcelona at 8.25 on Sunday the 7th March with just 5 minutes to go. Some 12 thousand runners but as I had a previous time could start further down the start grid. The previous 3 days had seen 12 hours days exploring what is a wondrous city with so much on offer, probably walked a marathon in those days, just couldn't miss out.

Decision time, I had made the discovery a couple of weeks before that if I got 3Hr 15 would have a good chance to get a "good for age" entry into the London marathon so bypassing the ballot and probable future disappointment. That was a different training plan, but what the hell, what did I have to lose?

So the gun went off, this time was over the start after 3 minutes, a little quicker than the 14 minutes at Berlin and looking at the stat's was in 3012 position wise. Still congested for the first few minutes, but a good pace as we headed off to towards the Nou Camp stadium (Barcelona FC). Was trying to catch the 3.15 pace maker so made my way through the masses getting to 2129 by 5km, caught and past the 3.45 pace maker then the 3.30 pace maker by the 10km mark. Feeling fine, no clocks on the course so hadn't a clue how fast I was going but still overtaking. By 15km was up to 1859. I could now see the 3.30 pace maker and his attached balloon ahead and was slowly closing in. By this time we had rounded the Nou Camp and were almost coming back on ourselves and yes passed the roundabout which we went around at the start, that isn't that motivating! The course now headed into the new Barcelona past Gaudi's La Pedrera although I didn't notice it, concentrating on the running to much, but couldn't help but gaze at the unfinished cathedral (Sagrada Familla) on the way past. Was now the furthest point away from the start and the half marathon point and a long walk back if I gave up now! But was only some 10 seconds behind the pacemaker and half way on 1.34.31, wow still felt good, if I kept this on would be sub 3.10!

So down we went towards the shore but just couldn't catch that extra 10 seconds to get to the Pacemaker. But I started 3 minutes after him so had this in hand. I could do this. The 30Km point came (18 miles) and feeling a bit tired but not bad and was in the 1758 which was going to be my best position. Suddenly the 3.15 pace maker stopped for a loo stop, I was ahead of him! But five minutes later he sprinted past and caught his balloon on a traffic light and burst, I couldn't identify him now in the crowd. But then it happened, I slowed a bit and tried to pick up the pace but I couldn't, however hard I tired. OK, hang in there I have 3 minutes in hand. Then a board only 10km to go, that 6 miles, thats just a local circuit at home. I was now tracking 30 seconds a km slower. Past the Port Olimpic we go through the Arc de Triomf and down the La Rambla the most famous street in Barcelona. Just 5km now. But what happened at Berlin with 1km to go hit me at 5km, this was the runners wall! Its different for everyone, but for me was running but falling asleep at the same time. The eye lids were very heavy, guess it was the body shutting down. Some people were walking, but I mustn't, I would never get going again. It seemed l I was running backwards as people over took. This was hell! looking at the stat's the last 5km took 8 minutes longer than the other 5km segments and dropped 300 places, I had a dread that that the 3.30 pacemaker would pass me any time. But then the finish, I had made it 3.23, 27 minutes better than last time.

As expected, the legs seized straight away, got the medal, gulped down 3 cups of energy drink and lots of fruit. By the time I got to the bag storage, walking was a challenge. But there you go, done and despite thinking "why am I doing this to myself" at the time, look back at it with some pride. After a marathon you are absolutely starving (having burnt 4000+ calories) so headed off and after months of healthy eating indulged in Kentucky Fried Chicken! So after getting back to my room for a shower and rest, yes did venture back down, it would of been a waste not to? Despite some strange looks regards my walking technique! To be honest it the next day which is the worst.

So will I do another another, I suspect so, London is my aim, but won't decide for a while, got a Yorkshire 3 peaks and Coast to Coast to keep me fit in the mean time. That will do for now :o)

Pennine Way on Ice

Well, I have now thawed out enough to write the blog for my latest day on the Pennine Way. Finn and I spent a week in Yorkshire in January with our friends Shiriin and Galey, and Maria. Quite why we decided to go and spend a week in north Yorkshire during the coldest winter in thirty years is beyond me. But go to Yorkshire we did.

We did a number of circular walks during the week – mostly in ice, snow and mud – around Swaledale – Gunnerside, Richmond, Barnard Castle, Reeth and Grinton – but Finn and I decided to be antisocial one day and take ourselves off for a Pennine Way jaunt, while Maria went and did some forest walking to collect pine cones for the cottage fire.

We drove from our cottage just outside Richmond the twenty odd miles to Middleton in Teesdale where I went to the local MOT garage to book our places on the minibus back from Langdon Beck later in the day – how very civilised! Once we’d got the admin done, we were free to spend the whole day if necessary walking the eight miles to our destination.

The path was very muddy on the low level and very icy on the higher level – we walked alongside the Tees all day practically, past a few waterfalls – most notably Low Force and High Force – to head steadily uphill towards Langdon. The sound of the waterfalls was very evident before we could see them – the sound was deafening at High Force, due to all the extra water because of the thawing snow.

As we headed away from the river and uphill, the path became very hazardous, although Finn loved rolling in all the ice and snow. I had to haul him out of a couple of snowdrifts where he fell in – sadly he couldn’t do the same for me, I had to extricate myself on my own! The really tricky bit was having to come down off the hills towards the road and Langdon – the path was basically in a gully which had become really muddy and of course I fell over and ended up on my bum, which has quite a lot of padding so it wasn’t too bad. However, when I then fell forwards onto my knees on ice and a cattle grid, there were definitely tears then, and dizziness and I saw stars. Time to call it a day.

So, we headed out to the road to wait for our bus – the cloud was really low at this time and it was freezing. The bus was on time and Finn immediately jumped up onto the seat but the lady bus driver wasn’t too bothered. Apparently that’s what “all sheepdogs do”. Hmmmm. It wasn’t long though before he got on the floor which was very warm and fell asleep, so the journey back to Middleton was punctuated by some very gentle snoring down by my feet! Sadly, I have no photos as evidence of our day though as my camera froze (and still hasn’t thawed out, three weeks later!)

A good day – despite the cold – but it makes life a bit easier later in the year when I’m due to come back and do the next bit. Roll on May …..

Walking in a winter wonderland ….. Sunday 3 January 2010

Six walkers and two dogs braved icy conditions to drive to Burnham Overy Staithe on the North Norfolk coast for the first walk of the new year – Steve and Ruth, Pam and Andy, Tristan and Sasha, and Susan and Finn. The first adventure was getting the coasthopper bus to Holme to the coastal path where we started our thirteen mile walk back to the cars at Burnham.

The walk started with a slippery scramble on the icy road down to the golf course and then followed a lovely walk along the boardwalk at the back of the sand dunes. The weather was gorgeous – blue skies and slightly warmer than we’d anticipated, which meant that layers were stripped off and put back on again all day. The boardwalk eventually gave way to a wooded area and a carpet of pine cones before we headed out to very muddy paths skirting the water’s edge.

Our catering corps were very well organised with Christmas cake and mulled wine breaks and the day passed by without incident.

This walk was intended to get us back into the swing of things because we had planned to complete a twenty-five mile challenge walk in the Brecon Beacons the following weekend. However, because of the weather warnings across Britain, it was decided mid week that we would cancel – we weren’t sure of our chances of reaching Wales and, even if we had, we were even less sure of our chances of ever leaving there again!

So disappointment with regard to Wales, but a brilliant day in North Norfolk instead.