Happy New Year to all my readers (that’s about 5 of you then!)
Well, 2006 has been a bit of a strange one. However, I guess in many ways it was more straightforward than previous years as decisions were made and actions completed this time last year. Consequently I’ve been ‘on my own’ for the whole of the past 12 months. A Year! It was not exactly the long term battle plan to be marooned in a cheap rental place whilst forking out hand over fist for the other house, and also trying to do my best by the kids… But, hey ho, life is nothing if not unpredictable, eh?
Still, it’s been OK. Even if my Leeds social life has not taken off in the slightest I’m so glad of the opportunity to hook up again with the likes of Rachael (who has been a great friend), Rich Eatough and Sam. And I even got to see Bryan again! Scottie is next on the “catch up” list and hopefully we’ll remedy that in January. You never know I may even see Stef one of these days too... :-)
Other plusses from 2006:
- The kids seem to be dealing with the situation very well, and in many respects I’m dealing with them a lot better. The deal I made with myself was that when they are with me I am theirs and I am not allowed to be distracted. They come first, I concentrate on them 100%, and I’ve hopefully managed to stick to that particular rule. We’ve had some excellent weekends and hopefully next year I can organise some time ‘away’ with them: down south at least.
- The two cycle trips really were fabulous and there’s been some good weekends away for me. The 'free' time has been used wisely I reckon and I've not had many thumb twiddling bored weekend days.
- I’ve seen a few great concerts.
- My fitness seems to be at an all time high (as I have nothing else better to concentrate on!).
Minuses:
- It’s been rather lonely at times. But I have never been ‘down’ so to speak and still remain eternally optimistc.
- Money. Don’t speak to me about money.
2007. The plan:
As the All American Rejects so succinctly put it on their fine second album: “Move along“. I have events to do; bands to see; people to meet; places to go; finances to sort out.
I have to move house come February as (landlady) Fiona is selling up so that’s the first hurdle, and hopefully I can stay near where I am. Next door (it’s being done out to rent) would be ideal!
I want to enter a half Iron Man triathlon and see how that goes.
I’d like to do another bike trip and Spain is being discussed for May/June.
I should re-join the Leeds Mountaineering club and get out on their weekenders away.
Pack in drinking completely. (This may not happen - I'll likely just continue to drink minimally as I have been this year.)
See more live music.
Oh, and get some proper swim coaching from the tri club.
So, there you go. I supposed that is a New Year resolution or two. Good to get them down in black and white. Good to have aims. Move along.
Starting as I mean to go on as I am off to Edinburgh with Rachael and her mates for the Hogmanay at the weekend. It looks like a great (big) event. The weather forecast looks atrocious though so fingers crossed. I’ve never actually been to Edinburgh (as a grown up – see below) so it will be good to have a look around that city, as well as meet some new people and do the New Year in style.
I have been to Edinburgh. Once. On a train trip for the day from Liverpool with my dad, Uncle George and cousin Tim. I must have been in my teens I suppose. The only thing I can remember about the city is the castle being closed as the military tattoo was on, so we took a bus out to the Forth road bridge and walked across it to the middle. So my one great memory of my one and only previous Edinburgh trip is just how long it takes spit to get down to the river from the middle of the Forth road bridge. Who says us Liverpudlians aren’t cultured ...
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Status Quo freebie
I won tickets to see Quo in Nottingham. Not a band that I would say I would have ever bought tickets to see these days, but on a freebie they were quite an exciting prospect. I had seen them before, once, supporting Queen on that huge day in 1986 at Knebworth which sadly turned out to be Queen’s last show ever. Quo were just great and they are one of those bands which I think need to be seen live at least once in a music fan’s lifetime. The band seem to be getting some long overdue respect lately. It’s amazing what an appearance on Coronation Street will do for your career…
To win I had emailed into Planet Rock radio a flippant answer to a quiz question and amazingly I won a pair of tickets. For Nottingham Arena though – not exactly close to home, but never mind - it's a freebie.
So Tuesday night I (and mate Rich from work) chose to do some alleged technical support at the Sheffield office and drive down from there to make things a bit easier on the travel front. Once off the M1 we discovered that Nottingham is a rather big city centre with a nightmare onme way system and impossible to find car parks littered all over the place at the wrong end of one way streets. But we got in one eventually and fortunately found ourselves parked not too far from the arena.
Now, normally when there’s a concert on in a venue, come doors opening time there’s people milling about all over the place. I had expected to see an army of denim clad folk lining up to get in to the arena. But when we got there the place looked deserted which was most odd. We had a beer in a good but not too full pub next door and then walked to the arena entrance. And there were some people there, and amazingly the place looked like it was getting pretty full, but it was really quite strange the lack of people outside.
Once inside we found that our seats were great. Having previously checked the seating plan of the arena we were sure we’d be at the front of a block near the back of the arena floor. But we were at the front of the second block back from the stage i.e. good and close. Excellent.
We missed one of the support bands but the second one really were bloody awful. "The 27s" they were called and they were all the way from Australia. Why they’d actually bothered to come all this way I really don’t know. The Aussies may be good at cricket but they can keep their awful support bands. I’m not generally one for slagging off bands as most do have some redeeming qualities but this trio: no. A poor pub blues outfit is about the best I could decribe them as. Avoid at all costs - if you are ever in Australia. Luckily they weren’t on for long and the mighty Quo appeared at 9 pm.
The denim clad army of Quo fans of old has, inevitably, turned into a bunch of bearded, balding (some with pony tails...) middle aged blokes. People have grown old with this band, and that is quite an amazing thing. Just as I was part of the 'old' Rush followers at their shows in 2004 and felt such a part of the gigs because of my long history with the band, these folks were the same and I really felt the ... yes.. love ... from the audience when the band took to he stage. The front row were obviously the crowd who were following the tour and they got a good deal of recongnition from the band once they came on. There were lots of youngsters about too: kids of the old rockers. Dads and their favourite band showing junior just how it should be done.
Status Quo deliver exactly what you’d expect: great 12 bar Status Quo rock. Actually, it’s to their great credit that they’ve never become a caricature of themselves. They play loudly and look like they are having a lot of fun doing so. And (why should this suprise me?) it turns out that Francis Rossi is a very very good guitarist. This is the band don’t forget who can casually knock off the stunning trio of Down Down, Whatever You Want and Rockin’ All Over the World: amazing rock songs that you just KNOW (everyone knows) and cannot help but sing along to with a cheesy grin on your face. "Look - that's Status Quo up there...."
They played 2 hours of the boogie rock that they have made their own, with Rossi continuously mugging to the crowd whilst knocking off fabulous bluesy solos, or seriously noisy rhythm work while wandering all over the stage. And Rick Parfitt is his perfect stage foil, keeping out of the limelight and providing great rhythm work, and not to mention some of the most famous guitar intros ever.
All in all fabulous to see them in action, and best my ticket win of all time. I think to be honest it’s my second only ticket win of all time. The other I can remember was to see Bjork’s old band the Sugarcubes in Liverpool a long time a go.
A top night all round and it was about 90 mins back home up a for once deserted M1. Post gig ears ringing factor: 1 day.
So that's The Who and Status Quo both seen live in 2006. Look out: "old rocker" alert... I just need to grow that pony tail.
To win I had emailed into Planet Rock radio a flippant answer to a quiz question and amazingly I won a pair of tickets. For Nottingham Arena though – not exactly close to home, but never mind - it's a freebie.
So Tuesday night I (and mate Rich from work) chose to do some alleged technical support at the Sheffield office and drive down from there to make things a bit easier on the travel front. Once off the M1 we discovered that Nottingham is a rather big city centre with a nightmare onme way system and impossible to find car parks littered all over the place at the wrong end of one way streets. But we got in one eventually and fortunately found ourselves parked not too far from the arena.
Now, normally when there’s a concert on in a venue, come doors opening time there’s people milling about all over the place. I had expected to see an army of denim clad folk lining up to get in to the arena. But when we got there the place looked deserted which was most odd. We had a beer in a good but not too full pub next door and then walked to the arena entrance. And there were some people there, and amazingly the place looked like it was getting pretty full, but it was really quite strange the lack of people outside.
Once inside we found that our seats were great. Having previously checked the seating plan of the arena we were sure we’d be at the front of a block near the back of the arena floor. But we were at the front of the second block back from the stage i.e. good and close. Excellent.
We missed one of the support bands but the second one really were bloody awful. "The 27s" they were called and they were all the way from Australia. Why they’d actually bothered to come all this way I really don’t know. The Aussies may be good at cricket but they can keep their awful support bands. I’m not generally one for slagging off bands as most do have some redeeming qualities but this trio: no. A poor pub blues outfit is about the best I could decribe them as. Avoid at all costs - if you are ever in Australia. Luckily they weren’t on for long and the mighty Quo appeared at 9 pm.
The denim clad army of Quo fans of old has, inevitably, turned into a bunch of bearded, balding (some with pony tails...) middle aged blokes. People have grown old with this band, and that is quite an amazing thing. Just as I was part of the 'old' Rush followers at their shows in 2004 and felt such a part of the gigs because of my long history with the band, these folks were the same and I really felt the ... yes.. love ... from the audience when the band took to he stage. The front row were obviously the crowd who were following the tour and they got a good deal of recongnition from the band once they came on. There were lots of youngsters about too: kids of the old rockers. Dads and their favourite band showing junior just how it should be done.
Status Quo deliver exactly what you’d expect: great 12 bar Status Quo rock. Actually, it’s to their great credit that they’ve never become a caricature of themselves. They play loudly and look like they are having a lot of fun doing so. And (why should this suprise me?) it turns out that Francis Rossi is a very very good guitarist. This is the band don’t forget who can casually knock off the stunning trio of Down Down, Whatever You Want and Rockin’ All Over the World: amazing rock songs that you just KNOW (everyone knows) and cannot help but sing along to with a cheesy grin on your face. "Look - that's Status Quo up there...."
They played 2 hours of the boogie rock that they have made their own, with Rossi continuously mugging to the crowd whilst knocking off fabulous bluesy solos, or seriously noisy rhythm work while wandering all over the stage. And Rick Parfitt is his perfect stage foil, keeping out of the limelight and providing great rhythm work, and not to mention some of the most famous guitar intros ever.
All in all fabulous to see them in action, and best my ticket win of all time. I think to be honest it’s my second only ticket win of all time. The other I can remember was to see Bjork’s old band the Sugarcubes in Liverpool a long time a go.
A top night all round and it was about 90 mins back home up a for once deserted M1. Post gig ears ringing factor: 1 day.
So that's The Who and Status Quo both seen live in 2006. Look out: "old rocker" alert... I just need to grow that pony tail.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Volleyball, bikes and Brakes
Visitors this weekend. My old friend Rich from Reading. "Old friend" sounds like we go back many, many years. Well, I guess we do go back a few as we met whilst in the Cardiff Uni mountain bike club which was circa 1990. So that's 16 years ago, and I would think that qualifies us as being "old friends", although Rich would no doubt complain at the “old” label as he’s a mere slip of a lad. One important bond we have is that we are both graduates of not only Cardiff University but also of the "Ian Jeremiah Cardiff bike 'til you drop hard knock school of off road cycle training". Ian’s philosophy was a 30 miles of hills on a Saturday (and Sunday if you could make it to the museum steps for the meet up on a hangover) style of leadership with “everyone does everything” (ie no chickening on the downhills allowed) and absolutely no quarter was given for blowing up the other side of Caerphilly mountain. And blowing up the other side of Caerphilly was something that I personally did pretty much every Saturday for about 6 months until my legs got used to the, err, punishment. However, this experience I think gave us a really rather fabulous grounding in the high art of off road cyling, and we will always find ourselves grateful for Ian for his encouragement, leadership and, well, teaching.
Rich's girlfriend is the lovely Silvia who was playing volleyball with her team up north - one game in Manchester Saturday and the other at Leeds Uni today. They play at a high level and won both matches which was a great effort as they were the underdogs for each one. After the game Saturday I had a bit of a volleyball knock around with Rich (who also plays - the pair of them met up at their volleyball club) and I've not done any volleyball since I was at school - a LONG time ago! The result of this little knock about was a nice pair of bruised wrists and thumbs for yours truly, as digging a volleyball round with no proper technique proved to be a rather painful experience. One of those sports which looks so easy but ... it's not.
Rich and I had a look round Salford Quays down the road while the volleyball was going on in nearby Eccles. Now - on the subjest of LS Lowry. Personally I cannot really see what all the fuss is about with this guy and his silly matchstalk drawings. All very nice but not quite worthy of having a state of the art gallery (and not to mention a major retail outlet centre) built round them? But then again this is Manchester where there's not really all that much else to celebrate is there? So, only in Manchester would a bunch of any-child-could-do-better quality artwork end up being so extravagantly lauded.
Saturday night saw us back over the correct side of the Pennines in Leeds and out in town. Now Rich and I, when it comes to music, have a similar outlook in that we both like a diverse amount of stuff, but the overlap of our tastes could best be described as 'minimal'. Rich really likes his indie bands and I found out that one of these, indeed his current favourite, Brakes were playing at the Leeds Cockpit Saturday night. They did sound a bit weedy indie cack on CD but I have to say that live they were very very good, and post-gig their 2 cds 'make sense'. One of those facts of life is that bands only really come into full view after you’ve seen them live.
While Silvia was volleyballing again today Rich and I got on on the mountain bikes for a spin in the mud and wind. Yep – conditions were a bit harsh out on the trails it has to be said but Team Klein battled on manfully for a couple of hours round the Pudsey circuit and came back via the jetwash. Consequently Teams Klein’s bikes are now both spangly clean you’ll all be glad to hear.
So, now it’s Sunday evening and I was going to settle down and watch V is for Vendetta from the NTL “On Demand” service. However, it seems that I am short of a PIN number for such a service so, so much for that cunning plan. Best get on with the washing and ironing then….
Rich's girlfriend is the lovely Silvia who was playing volleyball with her team up north - one game in Manchester Saturday and the other at Leeds Uni today. They play at a high level and won both matches which was a great effort as they were the underdogs for each one. After the game Saturday I had a bit of a volleyball knock around with Rich (who also plays - the pair of them met up at their volleyball club) and I've not done any volleyball since I was at school - a LONG time ago! The result of this little knock about was a nice pair of bruised wrists and thumbs for yours truly, as digging a volleyball round with no proper technique proved to be a rather painful experience. One of those sports which looks so easy but ... it's not.
Rich and I had a look round Salford Quays down the road while the volleyball was going on in nearby Eccles. Now - on the subjest of LS Lowry. Personally I cannot really see what all the fuss is about with this guy and his silly matchstalk drawings. All very nice but not quite worthy of having a state of the art gallery (and not to mention a major retail outlet centre) built round them? But then again this is Manchester where there's not really all that much else to celebrate is there? So, only in Manchester would a bunch of any-child-could-do-better quality artwork end up being so extravagantly lauded.
Saturday night saw us back over the correct side of the Pennines in Leeds and out in town. Now Rich and I, when it comes to music, have a similar outlook in that we both like a diverse amount of stuff, but the overlap of our tastes could best be described as 'minimal'. Rich really likes his indie bands and I found out that one of these, indeed his current favourite, Brakes were playing at the Leeds Cockpit Saturday night. They did sound a bit weedy indie cack on CD but I have to say that live they were very very good, and post-gig their 2 cds 'make sense'. One of those facts of life is that bands only really come into full view after you’ve seen them live.
While Silvia was volleyballing again today Rich and I got on on the mountain bikes for a spin in the mud and wind. Yep – conditions were a bit harsh out on the trails it has to be said but Team Klein battled on manfully for a couple of hours round the Pudsey circuit and came back via the jetwash. Consequently Teams Klein’s bikes are now both spangly clean you’ll all be glad to hear.
So, now it’s Sunday evening and I was going to settle down and watch V is for Vendetta from the NTL “On Demand” service. However, it seems that I am short of a PIN number for such a service so, so much for that cunning plan. Best get on with the washing and ironing then….
Friday, November 10, 2006
Holly Art
It might not look much but I know just how much thought and effort went into this on Holly's part. This is one she prepared earlier: when she was in her 'many colours' phase!
Holly: Art Explained
Seriously, I reckon Holly is a very good artist. She loves drawing and seems to really put a great deal of thought into the pictures she does. Her disability may limit her freedom of movement but it doesn't seem to stop her (at five years old) really wanting to express herself in this way. She's always really pleased with the results of these drawing sessions.
How we do it is I sit with her and give her choice of all the crayons (I bought some plastic coated ones which are perfect for her and she cannot snap them - she's a bit heavy handed) for the colour. Then I hold her hand and assist while she does the actual drawing – basically keeping her from losing her grip on the crayon. I also ask her which bit of the paper she wants to aim for – or she tells me if I’m doing something wrong.
She obviously has a limited range of ability but she can do sqiggles, lines, small circles or long sweeps and she tends to do just one of these things per drawing. She finishes each colour quickly, often not having done much at all with it, and moves on to the next choice. She’ll use 3 or 4 colours maximum per drawing and does not just scrawl randomly – she tries for instance not to overlap the colours and obvioulsy has a specific pattern in mind for each new piece of paper. She was all purple and oranges on the last session, with the odd splash of red, brown or black. That was all she used out of 15 coloured crayons. She is very decisive about when each one is finished too and never goes back to it. Given a sheet of A4 she only ever does enough to fit the frame size we've been using which has been 5 x 7 inches, and this goes for painting too: When she has the opportunity to splash paint round a large sheet of paper she always keeps her efforts neatly confined to a relatively small area.
Though there are many things which make me think “what if …” with Holly, this activity is one where I know she gets a lot of satisfaction from, especially when she sees the pictures in the frames. It’s a “look what I can do” thing I reckon.
I've quite a few of her efforts framed now and they are really good bits of work. I love them.
How we do it is I sit with her and give her choice of all the crayons (I bought some plastic coated ones which are perfect for her and she cannot snap them - she's a bit heavy handed) for the colour. Then I hold her hand and assist while she does the actual drawing – basically keeping her from losing her grip on the crayon. I also ask her which bit of the paper she wants to aim for – or she tells me if I’m doing something wrong.
She obviously has a limited range of ability but she can do sqiggles, lines, small circles or long sweeps and she tends to do just one of these things per drawing. She finishes each colour quickly, often not having done much at all with it, and moves on to the next choice. She’ll use 3 or 4 colours maximum per drawing and does not just scrawl randomly – she tries for instance not to overlap the colours and obvioulsy has a specific pattern in mind for each new piece of paper. She was all purple and oranges on the last session, with the odd splash of red, brown or black. That was all she used out of 15 coloured crayons. She is very decisive about when each one is finished too and never goes back to it. Given a sheet of A4 she only ever does enough to fit the frame size we've been using which has been 5 x 7 inches, and this goes for painting too: When she has the opportunity to splash paint round a large sheet of paper she always keeps her efforts neatly confined to a relatively small area.
Though there are many things which make me think “what if …” with Holly, this activity is one where I know she gets a lot of satisfaction from, especially when she sees the pictures in the frames. It’s a “look what I can do” thing I reckon.
I've quite a few of her efforts framed now and they are really good bits of work. I love them.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Life in the old dog
I did a mountain bike race at the weekend. This is the first time I have entered an official race for years and I've only done two before now. The first one was when I was Cardiff Uni in what must have been about 1992 and was at a course near Port Talbot. Seemed like a good idea at the time (as everyone else was entered for it) but it was just grim. It was a horrible rainy day and involved three laps of a hard course - something for which I just was not a) prepared and b) fit enough. I did finish, but was completely blown and practically hypothermic by the end and vowed never to race again.
The next one was not long after we moved to Leeds (1997 I think), near Pudsey at Tong Hall. Some of the guys we'd met biking locally were entering so I had a go. That one was pretty good actually and I did OK, but I was fitter by then.
This weekend's jaunt at Lightwater near Ripon looked like a decent event, the weather has been great, so I thought what the hell, turned up and entered on the day. There were a few others from the North Leeds group also signed up so it was a bit of a team atmosphere.
The course was 17 miles (3 laps) round the park grounds, undulating more than hilly. Lots of hardpack; a bit of tarmac; some great bits of quick singletrack; into and out of a quarry, and some grassy fields to cross. One or two cheeky technicalities and some short sharp drops and climbs gave it all some interest. 17 miles is maybe 90 minutes so therefore basically a continuous burn - an exercise in who's legs can last the longest?!
I was really pleased that I paced it well. I thought I'd gone off too hard on the first lap but settled in comfortably, stuck at my pace and just about managed to hold it until the end. I clocked 1:24:30 which put me 13th in the 80 strong Vets category, so I was pretty pleased with that.
Not bad at all. There's life in this old dog yet!
The next one was not long after we moved to Leeds (1997 I think), near Pudsey at Tong Hall. Some of the guys we'd met biking locally were entering so I had a go. That one was pretty good actually and I did OK, but I was fitter by then.
This weekend's jaunt at Lightwater near Ripon looked like a decent event, the weather has been great, so I thought what the hell, turned up and entered on the day. There were a few others from the North Leeds group also signed up so it was a bit of a team atmosphere.
The course was 17 miles (3 laps) round the park grounds, undulating more than hilly. Lots of hardpack; a bit of tarmac; some great bits of quick singletrack; into and out of a quarry, and some grassy fields to cross. One or two cheeky technicalities and some short sharp drops and climbs gave it all some interest. 17 miles is maybe 90 minutes so therefore basically a continuous burn - an exercise in who's legs can last the longest?!
I was really pleased that I paced it well. I thought I'd gone off too hard on the first lap but settled in comfortably, stuck at my pace and just about managed to hold it until the end. I clocked 1:24:30 which put me 13th in the 80 strong Vets category, so I was pretty pleased with that.
Not bad at all. There's life in this old dog yet!
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Pet Sounds
Current musical favourites chez (and voiture and iPod) Andy
The Feeling: Twelve Stops and Home. I bought this in HMV after hearing them play one track from it over the PA, and what a good decision it’s proved to be as it’s a very fine album indeed. I do like a band who can write good songs, and this is a whole CD full of great quality. It's very contemporary sounding, but there’s lots of old school references too: 10cc in particular, but definitely shades of Supertramp and I can almost hear Paul McCartney singing a couple of the tracks. Great stuff, and I am most pleased with my impulse buy.
Red Hot Chilli Peppers: Stadium Arcadium. Two Cds; 28 songs, which to be honest is a bit too much to take in so I’ve only really played disk one in the couple of weeks since I bought it. I’ve always enjoyed their stuff and with their last couple of albums they’ve settled down into writing great, catchy, loud, funky rock music and Stadium Arcadium is just that. More than anything these guys are a great BAND. Four musicians who gel as a unit in a unique fashion (rather like U2 in that way). Guitarist John Frusciante I think is a genius, both technically and as a song writer. To think that not so long ago this bloke had done so much drug taking that, amongst other things, all his teeth fell out it’s quite astonishing that he’s come back into the band and remained focused for them to produce their most successful string of albums to date. The Chilli Peppers are a band who are right on top of their game and who are an absolute pleasure to listen to.
The Tragically Hip: World Container. The Hip have been at this business 20 years now and still remain a wondrous Canadian secret. Canada’s most beloved band. I got to see them again in London in July and they as ever produced an electrifying performance, led by the verging on insane stage persona of singer Gord Downie. They have always been guaranteed live dynamite whilst I think some of their studio output I think has been a bit patchy of late. With World Container, however, they’ve produced their most accessible, straightforward (commercial?)album for a long time. It is absolutely bloody fantastic. Top marks to them then for choosing Bob Rock as producer on this one. Rock’s name was openly cursed by the Hip’s internet fanbase when they heard he had got the chair for the new CD as it seems he’s “ruined” other bands he’s got hold of in the studio (eg Metallica). But he’s obviously gelled big time with The Hip as they’ve produced a storming, heads down belter of a CD. Rock has said in interviews that he’s always wanted to do the “classic” Canadian album (he’s a Cannuck himself) and perhaps this is it. I just wish they’d release it outside North America, but there are ways and means of getting hold of such things… Best song title ever as well on this one too: Luv (sic). Genius. It’s a real thrill when one of your favourite bands releases a new album, and when it turns out to be as good as this one is then it really is a treat.
Barenaked Ladies: Barenaked Ladies are Me. More from Canada, but the other side of the Canadian musical coin perhaps as BNL made the transition from ‘just known in Canada’ to huge world success with their excellent Stunt album and ‘One Week’ single a few years back. That was 3 albums ago though now, and they’ve continued on since then with a lesser degree of platinum sales perhaps but with a consistent ability to write whole albums full of great songs. And also with a massive, hugely loyal fanbase. I really rated their last one “Everything to Everybody” but with BLAM they’ve surpassed themselves once again on the writing front. Having fulfilled their big label recording contract they’ve now gone independent and this enables them to do pretty much what they like, so this is another double CD fest (if you go for the full download version) release. 27 songs of ridiculously high standard: no filler apparent at all. Great stuff. As with the Hip BNL seem to love playing over here so we get to see them live on a regular basis in the UK. Get your tickets for their British dates next March as they are a live outfit not to be missed. A band who have a supreme ability to not take themselves seriously in any way (they mess about quite a bit on stage, often improvising whole songs), but at the same time produce some of the most spine tinglingly great live renditions of their ever growing catalogue. I’ll never forget being sat front and centre of the balcony in the Manchester Apollo while they rattled off a string of four or five album tracks and I just could not believe how ‘perfect’ they were at that moment: the band, the performance, the sound, the songs, everything. Stunning, in a word. One of those times when your spine just tingles with the experience and you feel forever indebted to the band for doing such a thing for you.
Anyway: Barenaked Ladies are Me: a top album from a great band.
The Feeling: Twelve Stops and Home. I bought this in HMV after hearing them play one track from it over the PA, and what a good decision it’s proved to be as it’s a very fine album indeed. I do like a band who can write good songs, and this is a whole CD full of great quality. It's very contemporary sounding, but there’s lots of old school references too: 10cc in particular, but definitely shades of Supertramp and I can almost hear Paul McCartney singing a couple of the tracks. Great stuff, and I am most pleased with my impulse buy.
Red Hot Chilli Peppers: Stadium Arcadium. Two Cds; 28 songs, which to be honest is a bit too much to take in so I’ve only really played disk one in the couple of weeks since I bought it. I’ve always enjoyed their stuff and with their last couple of albums they’ve settled down into writing great, catchy, loud, funky rock music and Stadium Arcadium is just that. More than anything these guys are a great BAND. Four musicians who gel as a unit in a unique fashion (rather like U2 in that way). Guitarist John Frusciante I think is a genius, both technically and as a song writer. To think that not so long ago this bloke had done so much drug taking that, amongst other things, all his teeth fell out it’s quite astonishing that he’s come back into the band and remained focused for them to produce their most successful string of albums to date. The Chilli Peppers are a band who are right on top of their game and who are an absolute pleasure to listen to.
The Tragically Hip: World Container. The Hip have been at this business 20 years now and still remain a wondrous Canadian secret. Canada’s most beloved band. I got to see them again in London in July and they as ever produced an electrifying performance, led by the verging on insane stage persona of singer Gord Downie. They have always been guaranteed live dynamite whilst I think some of their studio output I think has been a bit patchy of late. With World Container, however, they’ve produced their most accessible, straightforward (commercial?)album for a long time. It is absolutely bloody fantastic. Top marks to them then for choosing Bob Rock as producer on this one. Rock’s name was openly cursed by the Hip’s internet fanbase when they heard he had got the chair for the new CD as it seems he’s “ruined” other bands he’s got hold of in the studio (eg Metallica). But he’s obviously gelled big time with The Hip as they’ve produced a storming, heads down belter of a CD. Rock has said in interviews that he’s always wanted to do the “classic” Canadian album (he’s a Cannuck himself) and perhaps this is it. I just wish they’d release it outside North America, but there are ways and means of getting hold of such things… Best song title ever as well on this one too: Luv (sic). Genius. It’s a real thrill when one of your favourite bands releases a new album, and when it turns out to be as good as this one is then it really is a treat.
Barenaked Ladies: Barenaked Ladies are Me. More from Canada, but the other side of the Canadian musical coin perhaps as BNL made the transition from ‘just known in Canada’ to huge world success with their excellent Stunt album and ‘One Week’ single a few years back. That was 3 albums ago though now, and they’ve continued on since then with a lesser degree of platinum sales perhaps but with a consistent ability to write whole albums full of great songs. And also with a massive, hugely loyal fanbase. I really rated their last one “Everything to Everybody” but with BLAM they’ve surpassed themselves once again on the writing front. Having fulfilled their big label recording contract they’ve now gone independent and this enables them to do pretty much what they like, so this is another double CD fest (if you go for the full download version) release. 27 songs of ridiculously high standard: no filler apparent at all. Great stuff. As with the Hip BNL seem to love playing over here so we get to see them live on a regular basis in the UK. Get your tickets for their British dates next March as they are a live outfit not to be missed. A band who have a supreme ability to not take themselves seriously in any way (they mess about quite a bit on stage, often improvising whole songs), but at the same time produce some of the most spine tinglingly great live renditions of their ever growing catalogue. I’ll never forget being sat front and centre of the balcony in the Manchester Apollo while they rattled off a string of four or five album tracks and I just could not believe how ‘perfect’ they were at that moment: the band, the performance, the sound, the songs, everything. Stunning, in a word. One of those times when your spine just tingles with the experience and you feel forever indebted to the band for doing such a thing for you.
Anyway: Barenaked Ladies are Me: a top album from a great band.
Ramble On
I have an annoying cold. It's not quite enough of a cold to be properly (miserably) ill, but just enough to keep me waking up with a sore throat and then being sneezy and snotty for half the day, every day. It's also enough to prevent swimming. Ever tried swimming with a snotty nose? Not good - drowning is a distinct possibility - so I haven't been for 2 weeks. Must pick it up again next week, if this fucking cold disappears.
Anyway - still doing the running and have been commuting on the bike as ever. Snot dispersal is easy when running and cycling. Especially cycling as that's what cycle mitts are for.
Hey, what's with the weather anyhow? It's mid October and still no sign of the bike leggings going on as yet. Indeed it's still pretty much shorts and a single top on the way home. It's been a mixed bag of showers and sun all week, and when it's sunny it's proper warm. I noticed there's new nettles out on the running trails - even the plants are getting confused.
Hey - my new bike light is excellent. This week has been the first where lights are needed on the roads of a morning so it is being used in earnest as dawn is now between half 7 and 8 o'clock. OK, so I paid £13o for a bike light but it's a great bike light and makes me feel safe on the road, even in the twilight hours. Well, when I say 'safe' I mean 'more visible'. 'Safe' is not a state of mind which can be in any way connected with cycle commuting. I caught myself daydreaming whilst cycling the other night. Not a wise thing to do as when you daydream the eyes in the back of your head go asleep, and you lose your periferal vison. As everyone knows eyes in the back of your head are essential whilst bike commuting. Just like a £13o light.
Watching "Clerks" on DVD. A true classic and a steal at £6 in the current HMV sale. I never as a rule buy films on DVD as they generally get watched once and then shelved, but cold not resist this one... and the 3 disk edition of Memento for an utterly bargainesque £7. Hours of triple disk directors' commentaries, alternative endings; hilarious outtakes; original screen tests, actors' biographies; 'making of' documentaries; exclusive stills libraries and special web link DVD extras fun. So, I'll likely watch each one once and then shelve them.
Right - must prepare for the weekend.... Ok. That's that done.
It's one of those rare occasions where I can actually have a lie in tomorrow. Of course I won't have a lie in because I'll be wide awake at half 7. Do you grow out of lie ins I wonder? Or maybe we just grow through lie in phases in life. Mind you some people (you ladies in particular) seem to be able to muster a monster lie in at any opportunity. Lie ins are a gender thing? Discuss.
Anyway - still doing the running and have been commuting on the bike as ever. Snot dispersal is easy when running and cycling. Especially cycling as that's what cycle mitts are for.
Hey, what's with the weather anyhow? It's mid October and still no sign of the bike leggings going on as yet. Indeed it's still pretty much shorts and a single top on the way home. It's been a mixed bag of showers and sun all week, and when it's sunny it's proper warm. I noticed there's new nettles out on the running trails - even the plants are getting confused.
Hey - my new bike light is excellent. This week has been the first where lights are needed on the roads of a morning so it is being used in earnest as dawn is now between half 7 and 8 o'clock. OK, so I paid £13o for a bike light but it's a great bike light and makes me feel safe on the road, even in the twilight hours. Well, when I say 'safe' I mean 'more visible'. 'Safe' is not a state of mind which can be in any way connected with cycle commuting. I caught myself daydreaming whilst cycling the other night. Not a wise thing to do as when you daydream the eyes in the back of your head go asleep, and you lose your periferal vison. As everyone knows eyes in the back of your head are essential whilst bike commuting. Just like a £13o light.
Watching "Clerks" on DVD. A true classic and a steal at £6 in the current HMV sale. I never as a rule buy films on DVD as they generally get watched once and then shelved, but cold not resist this one... and the 3 disk edition of Memento for an utterly bargainesque £7. Hours of triple disk directors' commentaries, alternative endings; hilarious outtakes; original screen tests, actors' biographies; 'making of' documentaries; exclusive stills libraries and special web link DVD extras fun. So, I'll likely watch each one once and then shelve them.
Right - must prepare for the weekend.... Ok. That's that done.
It's one of those rare occasions where I can actually have a lie in tomorrow. Of course I won't have a lie in because I'll be wide awake at half 7. Do you grow out of lie ins I wonder? Or maybe we just grow through lie in phases in life. Mind you some people (you ladies in particular) seem to be able to muster a monster lie in at any opportunity. Lie ins are a gender thing? Discuss.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Friday, October 13, 2006
Book it and they will come...
A weekend away mountain biking is often easier said than done when it comes to getting a big group of people together. Best thing is to just pick a weekend, book the accomodation and then invite all and sundry along. And so it was for the Coed y Brenin mountain biking trip this weekend.
Coed y Brenin is near Dolgellau which is south North Wales or north Mid Wales. One of the two. Probably both. North Wales we all know about with Snowdonia and all that but I personally think that the Mid Wales area is criminally overlooked as a tourist area in Britain given that it is uniformly stunning. A couple of years ago I did a work thing at Aberystwyth which is two towns further on down into Wales and the drive was just amazing. Mountain bikers tend to know the secrets of Mid Wales as Rhayader for instance is a well trodden biking area with it’s proximity to the wonderful Elan Valley. Follow the A470: just down from Dolgellau there’s Machynlleth, sat in a quite beautiful valley and its Dyfi Forest is full of mountain biking. Onto lovely Llanidloes,(or nip over the top between these two via Staylittle and the inmpressive Clwedog reservoir); through Rhayader to Builth Wells and head down to Brecon and it’s mighty Beacons. Absolutely glorious, the lot of it. Oh, and then there’s the coastline of Cardigan Bay: Barmouth, Aberystwyth etc and points in between. Take a walk to the top of Cader Idris and you can see most of it. Actually – on second thoughts don’t go: stay away and leave the place to us mountain bikers and climbers.
I digress, back to Coed y Brenin. This place was the first ‘made’ mountain bike venue I think in the UK and I’ve visited it maybe 5 or 6 times now over the last 10 years. The absolute joy/madness of it’s flagship short and sweet “Red Bull” trail has never failed to reduce me to an endorphin fuelled, giggling wreck by the time I was racing round it’s bermed conclusion. Then there’s an afternoon out on the sprawling Karrimor trail round 40k of scenic, single tracked or fire roaded forestry, plus the more recent, more technical MBR route. A weekend at CyB involved doing all of them with the Red Bull at least twice.
The visitor centre/café was also top drawer with Sian (ex Wales champion MTB girlie) and her partner Dafydd serving up wondrous big snacks such as cheese or beans on toast (or indeed both), accompanied by huge mugs of tea. Exactly the thing hungry mountain bikers crave. There was also an excellent bike shop at the site. So, when news filtered through early this year that Sian and Dafydd had given up the center and that the place was undergoing a serious make over with new trails and shifting the visitor centre to the other side of the A470, it was difficult to know whether to be pleased or worried. Best thing really was to go a try the place out again, so that’s what we did last weekend.
Our booked accomodation was an excellent 10 berth bungalow at Ferndale (www.coedybrenin.com) within the forest iteslf, which meant we could ride from the house straight onto the trails (the visitor centre was about 10 minutes away round the easy ‘blue’ route). The house had tons of room, an Aga in the kitchen, wood burning stove in the lounge, "pet" mice on the loose, kayaking quailty river flowing next to it – all very ‘countryside’. Everyone turned up late Friday evening after their long drives – the others were the Reading bike crew, most of whom I’d met before. Rich had bought about 4 tons of food so we would certainly not go hungry and Saturday morning we tucked into eggs, bacon and beans done on the Aga. I think we were out by half 10 which is not bad considering there was 9 bikes worth of faffing to be done. Two inexperienced girls in the group sensibly opted for the easy routes so there were seven of us out on the serious trails for the day. We launched into “The Beast” and the old Red Bull now renamed “Tarw” (which is ’Bull’ in Welsh – see what they did there?). About 50k of great riding, and more for some (Rich C, Dean and Annie) as they finished off The Beast – in the dark at about 7pm.
The new and improved visitors' centre …Well, even though it's a lovely wood building and LOOKS great the old one was so good at catering for us cyclists with basic, big food that this one has a lot to live up to. They now seem to be catering for everyone (walkers and families on days out included – ciabatas anyone?) with waitress service. We ordered and then waitied nearly an hour for our food early afternoon, and they messed up the order when we did get it. Rather than complain we (well, Annie) offered some constructive criticism to the owner who was good about it actually. They were just mobbed - busier than August Bank Holiday apparently. 8 weeks it's been open and they are still struggling. But, they are going to have a re-think over the winter and hopefully get it right for next year. Fair enough. They'll get a lot of bad bress in the biking magazines and web sites for sure which is a pity. The bike shop there is actually smaller than the old one which is madness.
My fears about the trail improvments however proved to be unfounded as the new and improved routes really are amazing. Lots of technicalities though and a place only for the experienced. I think everyone came off over the bars on Saturday with some fairing better than others. Rich E (knee/ankle) and Paul (seriously onto his head and knee) were the worst injured with Warwick also putting a good effort in resulting in a neat hole in his elbow.
Saturday night after a marvellous pasta bolognaise cooked by Sue and Sylivia there was much wine and beer drunk in front of the cozy fire in the lounge. Party games materialised, such as the wicked card game “spoons” and the now legendary “team butts”, which was eventually ‘won’ by team jaundice. I think.
Sunday those intrepid souls who could still ride (Rich E and Paul retired due to their injuries) did the MBR route which for me was the best one as it was just pretty much continuous technicalities. We finished off with a flourish round the bits we’d missed out and the finale was part of the ‘blue’ route back down to our house which was an amazing rollercoaster downhill of a singletrack, blasting through the forest at stupid speeds: possibly the best bit of the whole two days. The weather by the way was excellent. One shower Sarturday and other than that lovely with little of the forecast winds in evidence. Sunday was especially good.
Then it was bikes washed; showers; the remains of the bolognaise to finish off; a quick tidy up; pack the cars; scavenge the left over food and then, sadly, it was time to break up the group and go home.
One of those perfect weekends really and hopefully we’ll do it again sometime. Ah, the joy of mountain biking: book somewhere to stay, all turn up and just get out there and ride.
Coed y Brenin is near Dolgellau which is south North Wales or north Mid Wales. One of the two. Probably both. North Wales we all know about with Snowdonia and all that but I personally think that the Mid Wales area is criminally overlooked as a tourist area in Britain given that it is uniformly stunning. A couple of years ago I did a work thing at Aberystwyth which is two towns further on down into Wales and the drive was just amazing. Mountain bikers tend to know the secrets of Mid Wales as Rhayader for instance is a well trodden biking area with it’s proximity to the wonderful Elan Valley. Follow the A470: just down from Dolgellau there’s Machynlleth, sat in a quite beautiful valley and its Dyfi Forest is full of mountain biking. Onto lovely Llanidloes,(or nip over the top between these two via Staylittle and the inmpressive Clwedog reservoir); through Rhayader to Builth Wells and head down to Brecon and it’s mighty Beacons. Absolutely glorious, the lot of it. Oh, and then there’s the coastline of Cardigan Bay: Barmouth, Aberystwyth etc and points in between. Take a walk to the top of Cader Idris and you can see most of it. Actually – on second thoughts don’t go: stay away and leave the place to us mountain bikers and climbers.
I digress, back to Coed y Brenin. This place was the first ‘made’ mountain bike venue I think in the UK and I’ve visited it maybe 5 or 6 times now over the last 10 years. The absolute joy/madness of it’s flagship short and sweet “Red Bull” trail has never failed to reduce me to an endorphin fuelled, giggling wreck by the time I was racing round it’s bermed conclusion. Then there’s an afternoon out on the sprawling Karrimor trail round 40k of scenic, single tracked or fire roaded forestry, plus the more recent, more technical MBR route. A weekend at CyB involved doing all of them with the Red Bull at least twice.
The visitor centre/café was also top drawer with Sian (ex Wales champion MTB girlie) and her partner Dafydd serving up wondrous big snacks such as cheese or beans on toast (or indeed both), accompanied by huge mugs of tea. Exactly the thing hungry mountain bikers crave. There was also an excellent bike shop at the site. So, when news filtered through early this year that Sian and Dafydd had given up the center and that the place was undergoing a serious make over with new trails and shifting the visitor centre to the other side of the A470, it was difficult to know whether to be pleased or worried. Best thing really was to go a try the place out again, so that’s what we did last weekend.
Our booked accomodation was an excellent 10 berth bungalow at Ferndale (www.coedybrenin.com) within the forest iteslf, which meant we could ride from the house straight onto the trails (the visitor centre was about 10 minutes away round the easy ‘blue’ route). The house had tons of room, an Aga in the kitchen, wood burning stove in the lounge, "pet" mice on the loose, kayaking quailty river flowing next to it – all very ‘countryside’. Everyone turned up late Friday evening after their long drives – the others were the Reading bike crew, most of whom I’d met before. Rich had bought about 4 tons of food so we would certainly not go hungry and Saturday morning we tucked into eggs, bacon and beans done on the Aga. I think we were out by half 10 which is not bad considering there was 9 bikes worth of faffing to be done. Two inexperienced girls in the group sensibly opted for the easy routes so there were seven of us out on the serious trails for the day. We launched into “The Beast” and the old Red Bull now renamed “Tarw” (which is ’Bull’ in Welsh – see what they did there?). About 50k of great riding, and more for some (Rich C, Dean and Annie) as they finished off The Beast – in the dark at about 7pm.
The new and improved visitors' centre …Well, even though it's a lovely wood building and LOOKS great the old one was so good at catering for us cyclists with basic, big food that this one has a lot to live up to. They now seem to be catering for everyone (walkers and families on days out included – ciabatas anyone?) with waitress service. We ordered and then waitied nearly an hour for our food early afternoon, and they messed up the order when we did get it. Rather than complain we (well, Annie) offered some constructive criticism to the owner who was good about it actually. They were just mobbed - busier than August Bank Holiday apparently. 8 weeks it's been open and they are still struggling. But, they are going to have a re-think over the winter and hopefully get it right for next year. Fair enough. They'll get a lot of bad bress in the biking magazines and web sites for sure which is a pity. The bike shop there is actually smaller than the old one which is madness.
My fears about the trail improvments however proved to be unfounded as the new and improved routes really are amazing. Lots of technicalities though and a place only for the experienced. I think everyone came off over the bars on Saturday with some fairing better than others. Rich E (knee/ankle) and Paul (seriously onto his head and knee) were the worst injured with Warwick also putting a good effort in resulting in a neat hole in his elbow.
Saturday night after a marvellous pasta bolognaise cooked by Sue and Sylivia there was much wine and beer drunk in front of the cozy fire in the lounge. Party games materialised, such as the wicked card game “spoons” and the now legendary “team butts”, which was eventually ‘won’ by team jaundice. I think.
Sunday those intrepid souls who could still ride (Rich E and Paul retired due to their injuries) did the MBR route which for me was the best one as it was just pretty much continuous technicalities. We finished off with a flourish round the bits we’d missed out and the finale was part of the ‘blue’ route back down to our house which was an amazing rollercoaster downhill of a singletrack, blasting through the forest at stupid speeds: possibly the best bit of the whole two days. The weather by the way was excellent. One shower Sarturday and other than that lovely with little of the forecast winds in evidence. Sunday was especially good.
Then it was bikes washed; showers; the remains of the bolognaise to finish off; a quick tidy up; pack the cars; scavenge the left over food and then, sadly, it was time to break up the group and go home.
One of those perfect weekends really and hopefully we’ll do it again sometime. Ah, the joy of mountain biking: book somewhere to stay, all turn up and just get out there and ride.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Driving
I was listening to Radio 4 this morning in the car (as you do) and there was a feature on the proposed new driving laws which are currently being researched. During this feature a lady read out a "victim statement" which she had written to read to the court just before the judge passed sentence on a 19 year old driver who had killed her daughter. Said daughter was 26; had just graduated from Oxford; seemed like one of life's beautiful people and was brutally slain by some unrepentant young fucking scumbag driver. If they want a deterrent for young people and a real warning of the damage they can do in their cars then perhaps a tape of this desperately sad message should be played to them a few times over the course of their lessons.
Of course it's likely that nothing can be done about the hardcore unrepentant delinquents who use the public roads as racetracks with scant regard for their own or anyone else's safety. Except maybe when one of them is caught in the act - such a the fat former boxer Nasseem whatsisname - they should be made an example of. Letting them out after serving half a short sentence is no deterrent.
Anyway - I hope this investigation does come up with some good new measures for lowering the body count of young drivers and the innocent victims of their ineptitude/recklessness on the roads.
Of course it's likely that nothing can be done about the hardcore unrepentant delinquents who use the public roads as racetracks with scant regard for their own or anyone else's safety. Except maybe when one of them is caught in the act - such a the fat former boxer Nasseem whatsisname - they should be made an example of. Letting them out after serving half a short sentence is no deterrent.
Anyway - I hope this investigation does come up with some good new measures for lowering the body count of young drivers and the innocent victims of their ineptitude/recklessness on the roads.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Steve Irwin
RIP fella.
"What kind of man was Steve Irwin? He stopped Australian Government plans to allow rich tourists into the Northern Territory to kill crocodiles for sport. He brought the beauty of nature back to millions through his documentaries. And he showed that if you love doing something, then you should put all your passion into doing it. Nothing less. He was a nice man. He was a kind man. Perhaps, the last real man... gone."
Alan, Brisbane, Australia
"What kind of man was Steve Irwin? He stopped Australian Government plans to allow rich tourists into the Northern Territory to kill crocodiles for sport. He brought the beauty of nature back to millions through his documentaries. And he showed that if you love doing something, then you should put all your passion into doing it. Nothing less. He was a nice man. He was a kind man. Perhaps, the last real man... gone."
Alan, Brisbane, Australia
Friday, September 01, 2006
Jane Tomlinson
Go visit here and be humbled. This lady is a national hero. She will be dead soon and to use what little time you have left for the benefit of others in such a way... words fail me. The phrase "We are not worthy" comes to mind.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
All quiet
Nowt much happening at the moment. Not much at all this week as Liz has taken the kids on holiday (to Blackpool) . Due to having to fork out on car tax, MOT and servicing I am a bit broke this month until pay day so am having a real quiet week stopping in. Actually, it's quite disturbing that I can just disappear for a week and no one really notices. Ho hum - the joys of being single. At least I know that if I did make the effort there are things I could arrange quite easily, so it's not a doom and gloom week. In fact it's rather pleasant.
Me old mate Scottie is due up for a visit this weekend. I briefly saw him at the Tragically Hip show in London the other month. We had a quick "hello" before disappearing into the thick of the crowd, and promised to do a weekend together soon.
Also on the near horizon is a trip to the Coed y Brenin mountain bike centre at lovely Dolgellau- somewhere I've not been to for ages and somewhere I have great memories of from previous visits. Recently upgraded this place is the original (and arguably best?) "made" set of bike trails in the UK. It was amazing before the recent overhaul so we are hoping it will be just as good now. I have arranged to meet Rich from Reading and his crowd there at the beginning of next month. The northerners were invited but so far none have taken up the gauntlet - and I thought it was the southerners who were meant to be the softies...
Exercise -wise I'm still commuting on the bike each day (about 70 miles a week), runnning (three to four approx 10ks a week) and swimming (two or three times a week). So, you know - I'm just keeping me hand in... The swimming is going particularly well as the stroke improvement program seems to be getting me progress, but the leg work is really knackering, and it's tempting to just revert back to the 'old' stroke and bang out easy lengths for the whole session. The aim is to get the all important stroke count (per length) down and therefore in theory use less energy. (Or to just go faster and use more!) My stroke count was originally around 30 in a 25m pool and I got it to 28 before the Triathlon with the stretching out thing. Kicking from the hips I can do 25 - for about two lengths so far. It's amazing when it works as I feel literally turbo charged and it really would be incredible to be able to swim at that speed for a distance. It's hard work but a good challenge and I live in hope of making this serious leg power swimming thing a permanent arrangement.
With this here broadband I have discovered bit torrenting too. What a joy to get whole series of West Wing and 24 that I missed on the TV. When I'll watch them I don't actually know but it's good to know that I can get hold of this stuff, and for free. TheTragically Hip also have an unbelievably brilliant fan run live show download site - the Hip Tracker. From here I've taken a load of great old live shows, and have been able to seed them back as well so I can get more in the future. Marvellous.
The footy season has started again - it's amazng how quickly it comes round. Oh, the 'joy' of supporting Liverpool ... ho hum. And it's 9 pm and dark outside. Winter's coming!
Me old mate Scottie is due up for a visit this weekend. I briefly saw him at the Tragically Hip show in London the other month. We had a quick "hello" before disappearing into the thick of the crowd, and promised to do a weekend together soon.
Also on the near horizon is a trip to the Coed y Brenin mountain bike centre at lovely Dolgellau- somewhere I've not been to for ages and somewhere I have great memories of from previous visits. Recently upgraded this place is the original (and arguably best?) "made" set of bike trails in the UK. It was amazing before the recent overhaul so we are hoping it will be just as good now. I have arranged to meet Rich from Reading and his crowd there at the beginning of next month. The northerners were invited but so far none have taken up the gauntlet - and I thought it was the southerners who were meant to be the softies...
Exercise -wise I'm still commuting on the bike each day (about 70 miles a week), runnning (three to four approx 10ks a week) and swimming (two or three times a week). So, you know - I'm just keeping me hand in... The swimming is going particularly well as the stroke improvement program seems to be getting me progress, but the leg work is really knackering, and it's tempting to just revert back to the 'old' stroke and bang out easy lengths for the whole session. The aim is to get the all important stroke count (per length) down and therefore in theory use less energy. (Or to just go faster and use more!) My stroke count was originally around 30 in a 25m pool and I got it to 28 before the Triathlon with the stretching out thing. Kicking from the hips I can do 25 - for about two lengths so far. It's amazing when it works as I feel literally turbo charged and it really would be incredible to be able to swim at that speed for a distance. It's hard work but a good challenge and I live in hope of making this serious leg power swimming thing a permanent arrangement.
With this here broadband I have discovered bit torrenting too. What a joy to get whole series of West Wing and 24 that I missed on the TV. When I'll watch them I don't actually know but it's good to know that I can get hold of this stuff, and for free. TheTragically Hip also have an unbelievably brilliant fan run live show download site - the Hip Tracker. From here I've taken a load of great old live shows, and have been able to seed them back as well so I can get more in the future. Marvellous.
The footy season has started again - it's amazng how quickly it comes round. Oh, the 'joy' of supporting Liverpool ... ho hum. And it's 9 pm and dark outside. Winter's coming!
Monday, July 31, 2006
New email
I have now signed up for NTL broadband at home. My email address is
andygolborne(at)ntlworld.com
Julia - if you are still reading this from NZ then please get in touch again!
My MS Messenger ID is
andygolborne(at)hotmail.co.uk
andygolborne(at)ntlworld.com
Julia - if you are still reading this from NZ then please get in touch again!
My MS Messenger ID is
andygolborne(at)hotmail.co.uk
The Salford Triathlon
So, I did it. And it was ace.
Here's my result
Position: 235 Category position: 53
No 367 Golborne Andrew, Male M40-49
Swim: 0:35:55
Transition 1 : 0:00:32
Bike: 1:13:10
Transition 2: 02:54
Run: 0:51:11
Total 2:43:41
Under 2:45 is ace. I think so anyhow as before the start I would have been pleased to get under 3 hours.
At best I was thinking 40 minutes for the swim, 1hr 15mins for the cycle and anything up to an hour for the run, plus the transitions - say 5 minutes each. Going into the run and the end of all this was unknown territory. In fact most of it was unknown territory! So looking at the split times I think I did everything about as good as I thought I could do. Still only 53rd though which I am amazed to find myself a bit annoyed about! Seeing as I did so well by my own standards it seems that all of a sudden I have become rather competitive about my position. I’ll aim for 2hrs 30 next time!
Anyhow, there were lots of nice folk in the transition around me before the start and the guy next to me was offering sound advice and helped me zip up the wet suit etc. Top chap. I’d also had a good look around the day before, including a ride round most of the bike course. Consequently I did actually feel pretty relaxed by the time we were called to the dockside for the swim.The swim: Tell you what - I was right about not doing that the second practice trip to the lake as I was fine in the end. No real nerves amazingly. We all got in, jumping off the low pontoon and it was good to get a feel of being in there for a few minutes before the off. The water was warm enough so you didn't actually notice it - the elite groups didn't bother with wet suits. And it was very clean too. Lots of chatting while we were floating about and nice that everyone wished everyone around them 'good 'luck' as we were about to go. Well, they did where I was floating at least.
Here we go then … They got us behind the 'line', did a countdown and away we went. I didn't get into the same state as I had done in the lake at all and managed to keep my breathing under control. It was all a bit frantic and I did faff for about quarter of a lap, getting my head together and finding some open water of my own where I wasn't being swam on, or swimming on top of anyone else. It was incredibly difficult to see where I was going and I had one float on my back and get calmed session not long after the start but quickly got going again. After the first turn I settled down properly and actually enjoyed it, just plodding along trying to concentrate on my stroke. The second of the two laps was easier as I'd picked out landmarks along the dock side and so roughly knew where I was. There was a large bridge right across about two thirds of the was down which was a good marker to get set for the turn at the end, and at the other there was the Lowry buildings. There were also huge inflatable buoys right round the inside of the turns so navigation was Ok there, even if it did get a bit crowded, but the straight bits were easy and pretty soon I was on the last straight towards the transition. At the end I was a bit all over the place looking up to find the exit, but there were friendly marshalls guiding us in and offering advice about when to stop swimming and start staggering out of the water.
I was wobbly as hell coming out of the water, and weaved my way to the transition, but did manage to get my wet suit off down to my waist as I ran no problem which was satisfying. It seemed a long way to my bike though.Once there it was do that alternate foot stamp down on the wet suit thing to get it off your legs and feet ... a big drink and a squeeze a gel bar down. Get socks, shoes and hat on, unrack bike and then leg it to the mounting point ... All pretty smooth and once on the bike I found I was really giving it plenty, mainly as I was happy to have done the swim!
The bike time I was chuffed about as I averaged 20+ mph for 25 miles and there were a lot of sharp bends on the 8 lap course. It felt good and I enjoyed it. There was one big long drag of a hill which was into what breeze there was which was killing off people - I did lots of passing on that bit. I indulged in target orientated cycling: seeing people ahead and estimating how long it would take to get past them. This kept me amused for an hour anyhow, as I have to admit did the fit girls in swimsuits who were now with us, having started half an hour earlier. The mountain bike corners noticeably better than the tri bikes that most of the others were using so I was just lashing round the bends and slingshotting it past people in doing so. Great fun. There was one particular corner on the fastest bit of the course with furniture positioned awkwardly but I found after lap two that if I took a really wide line into it I could just get round at full tilt whereas loads of people were braking hard and losing all their hard earned momentum. As I said – there were a few things which kept me amused around my eight laps.
Transition 2: It again seemed a long way to the back of the transition area running with my bike after the dismount. Rack the bike and just the shoe change this time, and I knocked back another gel feed thing and some fluid, just as I'd done in the first transition. The start for the run timing was a good few hundred metres away by the Lowry, hence T2 being seemingly a lot longer than T1.
The run: Christ my legs felt like jelly coming out of transition, so I plodded - as I had no choice. The up and over the Lowry bridge at the start was just plain painful and I was a bit worried, but soon settled down into a decent rhythm. I was just not sure though how much I had left in the tank and didn't want to do too much and cramp up. Plus I had indigestion from that stupid gel bar thing as it would not go down. It felt like hard work, seemed to drag on and I didn't really manage to relax until the fourth and final lap - knowing that the end was in site. I could see my time too at the end of each lap by the finish line. I seemed to be doing OK which was a boost. The last bit on the last lap eventually came round and that was the up and over the footbridge and down to the front of the Lowry, only to go straight through the finish this time. The reception was tea and medals. Well, just medals. Alasdair Campbell finished just after me by the way. There were a few celebs out on the running course including several of the Emmerdale cast and by the time I finished the sprint and the relay races were on the course. Consequently there were loads of people round the finish arena which was good – I did feel I got a reception at least, even if there was no one there shouting for me in particular… maybe next time. Then it was a wander down to the transition through the crowds, absolutely made up that I'd actually done the thing. Had a chat again with the guys who were near me, we said our goodbuys, packed up and I walked, stiff legged, back to the car to pack up for the drive home. Job done. Now, when's the next one...?
Here's my result
Position: 235 Category position: 53
No 367 Golborne Andrew, Male M40-49
Swim: 0:35:55
Transition 1 : 0:00:32
Bike: 1:13:10
Transition 2: 02:54
Run: 0:51:11
Total 2:43:41
Under 2:45 is ace. I think so anyhow as before the start I would have been pleased to get under 3 hours.
At best I was thinking 40 minutes for the swim, 1hr 15mins for the cycle and anything up to an hour for the run, plus the transitions - say 5 minutes each. Going into the run and the end of all this was unknown territory. In fact most of it was unknown territory! So looking at the split times I think I did everything about as good as I thought I could do. Still only 53rd though which I am amazed to find myself a bit annoyed about! Seeing as I did so well by my own standards it seems that all of a sudden I have become rather competitive about my position. I’ll aim for 2hrs 30 next time!
Anyhow, there were lots of nice folk in the transition around me before the start and the guy next to me was offering sound advice and helped me zip up the wet suit etc. Top chap. I’d also had a good look around the day before, including a ride round most of the bike course. Consequently I did actually feel pretty relaxed by the time we were called to the dockside for the swim.The swim: Tell you what - I was right about not doing that the second practice trip to the lake as I was fine in the end. No real nerves amazingly. We all got in, jumping off the low pontoon and it was good to get a feel of being in there for a few minutes before the off. The water was warm enough so you didn't actually notice it - the elite groups didn't bother with wet suits. And it was very clean too. Lots of chatting while we were floating about and nice that everyone wished everyone around them 'good 'luck' as we were about to go. Well, they did where I was floating at least.
Here we go then … They got us behind the 'line', did a countdown and away we went. I didn't get into the same state as I had done in the lake at all and managed to keep my breathing under control. It was all a bit frantic and I did faff for about quarter of a lap, getting my head together and finding some open water of my own where I wasn't being swam on, or swimming on top of anyone else. It was incredibly difficult to see where I was going and I had one float on my back and get calmed session not long after the start but quickly got going again. After the first turn I settled down properly and actually enjoyed it, just plodding along trying to concentrate on my stroke. The second of the two laps was easier as I'd picked out landmarks along the dock side and so roughly knew where I was. There was a large bridge right across about two thirds of the was down which was a good marker to get set for the turn at the end, and at the other there was the Lowry buildings. There were also huge inflatable buoys right round the inside of the turns so navigation was Ok there, even if it did get a bit crowded, but the straight bits were easy and pretty soon I was on the last straight towards the transition. At the end I was a bit all over the place looking up to find the exit, but there were friendly marshalls guiding us in and offering advice about when to stop swimming and start staggering out of the water.
I was wobbly as hell coming out of the water, and weaved my way to the transition, but did manage to get my wet suit off down to my waist as I ran no problem which was satisfying. It seemed a long way to my bike though.Once there it was do that alternate foot stamp down on the wet suit thing to get it off your legs and feet ... a big drink and a squeeze a gel bar down. Get socks, shoes and hat on, unrack bike and then leg it to the mounting point ... All pretty smooth and once on the bike I found I was really giving it plenty, mainly as I was happy to have done the swim!
The bike time I was chuffed about as I averaged 20+ mph for 25 miles and there were a lot of sharp bends on the 8 lap course. It felt good and I enjoyed it. There was one big long drag of a hill which was into what breeze there was which was killing off people - I did lots of passing on that bit. I indulged in target orientated cycling: seeing people ahead and estimating how long it would take to get past them. This kept me amused for an hour anyhow, as I have to admit did the fit girls in swimsuits who were now with us, having started half an hour earlier. The mountain bike corners noticeably better than the tri bikes that most of the others were using so I was just lashing round the bends and slingshotting it past people in doing so. Great fun. There was one particular corner on the fastest bit of the course with furniture positioned awkwardly but I found after lap two that if I took a really wide line into it I could just get round at full tilt whereas loads of people were braking hard and losing all their hard earned momentum. As I said – there were a few things which kept me amused around my eight laps.
Transition 2: It again seemed a long way to the back of the transition area running with my bike after the dismount. Rack the bike and just the shoe change this time, and I knocked back another gel feed thing and some fluid, just as I'd done in the first transition. The start for the run timing was a good few hundred metres away by the Lowry, hence T2 being seemingly a lot longer than T1.
The run: Christ my legs felt like jelly coming out of transition, so I plodded - as I had no choice. The up and over the Lowry bridge at the start was just plain painful and I was a bit worried, but soon settled down into a decent rhythm. I was just not sure though how much I had left in the tank and didn't want to do too much and cramp up. Plus I had indigestion from that stupid gel bar thing as it would not go down. It felt like hard work, seemed to drag on and I didn't really manage to relax until the fourth and final lap - knowing that the end was in site. I could see my time too at the end of each lap by the finish line. I seemed to be doing OK which was a boost. The last bit on the last lap eventually came round and that was the up and over the footbridge and down to the front of the Lowry, only to go straight through the finish this time. The reception was tea and medals. Well, just medals. Alasdair Campbell finished just after me by the way. There were a few celebs out on the running course including several of the Emmerdale cast and by the time I finished the sprint and the relay races were on the course. Consequently there were loads of people round the finish arena which was good – I did feel I got a reception at least, even if there was no one there shouting for me in particular… maybe next time. Then it was a wander down to the transition through the crowds, absolutely made up that I'd actually done the thing. Had a chat again with the guys who were near me, we said our goodbuys, packed up and I walked, stiff legged, back to the car to pack up for the drive home. Job done. Now, when's the next one...?
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Second open water swim
Err, yes, so I chickened out. I get a Tuesday evening free and all of a sudden there's the opportunity to go biking with the North Leeds Tuesday nighters around Ilkley Moor in utterly glorious weather. It's either that or a swim in a dank lake, full of weeds and stuff.
I managed to convince myself that another horrible lake experience would do more harm than good, and make me more nervous about the race swim. Hmmm. We shall see eh?
The biking was great by the way. LOADS of great singletrack round the moor on footpaths. There's apparently a Bradford council ruling which gives bikers permissive rights to all the Ilkley moor trails, which is handy. As long as we don't 'cause damage' ie churn it up in the mud. And there's no sign of any mud up there at the moment as we continue to bake in the heat. A brilliant ride. Nice pub up there too to finish off in - The Cow and Calf.
I managed to convince myself that another horrible lake experience would do more harm than good, and make me more nervous about the race swim. Hmmm. We shall see eh?
The biking was great by the way. LOADS of great singletrack round the moor on footpaths. There's apparently a Bradford council ruling which gives bikers permissive rights to all the Ilkley moor trails, which is handy. As long as we don't 'cause damage' ie churn it up in the mud. And there's no sign of any mud up there at the moment as we continue to bake in the heat. A brilliant ride. Nice pub up there too to finish off in - The Cow and Calf.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
First open water swim
“How hard can it be swimming in a lake (and) in a wet suit?” I thought. I’ve spent the best part of 18 months getting to the point where I can front crawl the requisite 1500m comfortably, and am pleased to say that this is now the case – in a swimming pool. So, with less than 2 weeks to go before the event I made use of the local (Leeds/Bradford) triathlon club’s open water swim sessions at a sailing club lake in Otley.
My borrowed wet suit I’d already tried on a couple of times and it had seemed to fit fine. But donning it at the sailing club all of a sudden it felt small and uncomfortable. Too tight. Everyone else seemed to look the part in theirs – they all looked like triathletes – while I just felt awkward in mine. Mind you it was about 30 degrees in the shade and I was too warm stood about in it waiting for the off. My new goggles though would do the trick – ‘proper’ Tri goggles. Cool. The guy in the shop assured me they would be the best thing for open water swimming. I’d tested these in the pool a few times and they gave me much more vision than the old smaller ones.
I got chatting to a bloke who’s first time had been the week before and his one comment was that he’d had trouble breathing. Eh? As I said – how hard can this be?
A couple of safety announcements – us newbies were wearing white hats so we could be spotted – and we walked down to the water. OK then so here we go…
And… I can’t see. Anything. How do you look up to see where you are going? I try this and my breathing is all over the place. And I can’t breathe. And my suit’s too tight. And I’m getting a bit of a panic on here. Ok, on my back and calm down a bit. It’s only swimming. There’s the safety bloke in his kayak – I’ll flag him down and seek advice. “Calm down.” He says. Yeah? Cheers. Try again. Same thing – no vision at all and a real issue trying to re-organise stroke and breathing to try to be able to get my bearings. Breathing all over once again and I’m on my back .. calming down. “Get some water into your suit to take the pressure from round your chest.” He suggests. Good idea, and this does work. Amazing how warm the water is by the way. Goddammit now my fancy new goggles are leaking. Bloody things. On my back to sort these out. Breathing to both sides is no good as the sun is low and on the clubhouse side I cannot see a thing. The other side points of reference are trees and an island so I am all over the place and also not balancing right for some reason. Breathe to one side and count strokes to take my mind off everything else. Better. Ok, one (450m) lap done in a really useless stop and start fashion. Take a break. Get my shit together. Deep breaths. Right, back in and try again. Relax. Better. Breathe to the one side only and doggy paddle a couple of strokes to look up if needs be. Follow someone? No good as they disappear once they get about a foot away from you in the water. Is that a marker buoy ahead or someone’s hat? No idea. Whatever – head for it. Yuck – weeds and stuff in the water when it gets shallow – not too keen on that. It was a buoy. More water in goggles – I could fucking strangle that guy in the shop. More faffing. More disorientation. Some actual swimming. Is that another buoy ahead? I think so. The last one. Ok, two laps done and the second was better. Another? Err, no thanks - I’m out of here. And then there's getting the wet suit off - I can see that's going to be fun under competition conditions...
At least the other guys are really good to chat to and very understanding – I seem to pretty typical for a first timer, if a bit more useless than most. Lots of good advice, and I’ll be back next week for my what will be my last practice before the race. Gulp. A dock has to be better than a lake right?
My borrowed wet suit I’d already tried on a couple of times and it had seemed to fit fine. But donning it at the sailing club all of a sudden it felt small and uncomfortable. Too tight. Everyone else seemed to look the part in theirs – they all looked like triathletes – while I just felt awkward in mine. Mind you it was about 30 degrees in the shade and I was too warm stood about in it waiting for the off. My new goggles though would do the trick – ‘proper’ Tri goggles. Cool. The guy in the shop assured me they would be the best thing for open water swimming. I’d tested these in the pool a few times and they gave me much more vision than the old smaller ones.
I got chatting to a bloke who’s first time had been the week before and his one comment was that he’d had trouble breathing. Eh? As I said – how hard can this be?
A couple of safety announcements – us newbies were wearing white hats so we could be spotted – and we walked down to the water. OK then so here we go…
And… I can’t see. Anything. How do you look up to see where you are going? I try this and my breathing is all over the place. And I can’t breathe. And my suit’s too tight. And I’m getting a bit of a panic on here. Ok, on my back and calm down a bit. It’s only swimming. There’s the safety bloke in his kayak – I’ll flag him down and seek advice. “Calm down.” He says. Yeah? Cheers. Try again. Same thing – no vision at all and a real issue trying to re-organise stroke and breathing to try to be able to get my bearings. Breathing all over once again and I’m on my back .. calming down. “Get some water into your suit to take the pressure from round your chest.” He suggests. Good idea, and this does work. Amazing how warm the water is by the way. Goddammit now my fancy new goggles are leaking. Bloody things. On my back to sort these out. Breathing to both sides is no good as the sun is low and on the clubhouse side I cannot see a thing. The other side points of reference are trees and an island so I am all over the place and also not balancing right for some reason. Breathe to one side and count strokes to take my mind off everything else. Better. Ok, one (450m) lap done in a really useless stop and start fashion. Take a break. Get my shit together. Deep breaths. Right, back in and try again. Relax. Better. Breathe to the one side only and doggy paddle a couple of strokes to look up if needs be. Follow someone? No good as they disappear once they get about a foot away from you in the water. Is that a marker buoy ahead or someone’s hat? No idea. Whatever – head for it. Yuck – weeds and stuff in the water when it gets shallow – not too keen on that. It was a buoy. More water in goggles – I could fucking strangle that guy in the shop. More faffing. More disorientation. Some actual swimming. Is that another buoy ahead? I think so. The last one. Ok, two laps done and the second was better. Another? Err, no thanks - I’m out of here. And then there's getting the wet suit off - I can see that's going to be fun under competition conditions...
At least the other guys are really good to chat to and very understanding – I seem to pretty typical for a first timer, if a bit more useless than most. Lots of good advice, and I’ll be back next week for my what will be my last practice before the race. Gulp. A dock has to be better than a lake right?
Monday, July 17, 2006
Descent into Swaledale
Another great descent, down into Swaledale. Always nice to be back in Yorkshire.
Grasmere from Loughrigg Terrace
A late afternoon traverse of Loughrigg Terrace gave us this stunning view over Grasmere and the prospect of yet more spanking downhilling along this amazingly elevated bridleway.
Coast to Coast (Part 1)
DAY ONE
Saturday 10th June
St Bees Head, Cumbria
Well, here I am on tour #2. The lads (and girl) have arrived at the starting gate, are under orders and are raring to go.
Actually Ben S is fast asleep. He’s no doubt in recovery from the sad loss of his BRAND NEW sunglasses during our swim in the sea. Yes folks, the weather is boiling hot. It’s about 80F and the sun really is burning, so much so that we did have a proper swim in the sea.
The B&B we are at (Stonehouse Farm) is lovely and the temptation is most definitely to stop here for a week and make the whole trip up in posts to the North Leeds thread on BikeMagic.
No chance. We have seven days of off road mayhem ahead of us – err, how fab is that?!
We arrived here at St Bees almost exactly to the minute that Christian’s Tom Tom had forecast we would when we left Leeds. Spooky, Or clever.
There’s been some sort of football match today. England apparently are playing in the finals of some tournament, and this was their first game. They won 1-0 against the mighty Paraguay. We watched it at one of the three local pubs within about 50 yards of the B&B. We are, ts has to be said, a tad spoilt for choice.
After the footy we changed into swimming gear, walked the mile or so down to the beach and had a swim in the lovely Irish Sea. The sea, OK, was quite cold but it honestly was fine once you were in.
It was at this juncture that the aforementioned sunglasses loss occurred when Ben dived under a wave whilst still wearing them.
Jo didn’t quite “swim” and to be honest was heard to girlie scream quite a bit whilst avoiding getting properly wet. More an advanced paddle I would call it, but she is a girl.
We returned from swimming (and a round of ice creams at a conveniently positioned beach-side ice cream van) to get the G&Ts in on the veranda. This amounted to a half bottle of G from the local shop; 2 bottles of T; plus a lemon and a lime. Actually, two limes as Christian stole a second one the pikey twat.
So now it’s showers all round and then I think we are off to the pub for more food. So far today we’ve polished off (in the car) Jo’s fine selection of fruit (pineapple and apples) and a large packet of crisps. Then there was serious sandwiches for lunch at the pub and then the round of ice creams.
We are all HUNGRY now, again. Ben S and John are in room 1 here. Chris, Ben F and myself are in room 2, while Jo is upstairs in room 4.
DAY TWO
Sunday. Pennyhill Farm B&B Eskdale, Lakes
The day started from St Bees with the compulsory “dip” in the sea. Except we didn’t quite dip as the tide was out – we just rode onto the pebbles and then got our picture taken on the prom by some “old ladies” (as John called them – they were likely in their 50s) who were doing half of the walking coast to coast.
The Serious Six then started out on their trek with great gusto and enthusiasm for the mighty task ahead and were all knackered after the first (road) climb out of St Bees.
Stonehouse Farm did a marvellous breakfast it has to be said. There is an ongoing debate as to whether it scores a 7 or 8 out of 10. We need some more full English offerings down us so we can compare, and then maybe recalibrate the scoring system. [In the end no breakfasts were deemed better than this one. And it ended up rating an 8. Or was it a 7?]
The Ride: 34 miles or so was the task set today (23 off road). At least half of that total distance was done on the easy trails of the Sustrans C2C route from the coast, and then on the long fire trail down the lakeside and into the end of the valley.
The weather was warm, humid and mainly cloudy all day but when the sun did come out it was roasting hot.
[Mention should be made here of the lake-side bench under the trees lunch sandwich stop, which was wonderful for about 5 minutes until clouds of midges found us and got a serious biting thing going on. We quickly moved off and sat just out of the trees, amusing ourselves by throwing stones into the lake. Just then a disabled guy on an electric scooter and his partner rolled slowly passed us on the lakeside track. They too spotted the inviting looking bench in the trees and the bloke totally went for the off road option, banging his in no way off road equipped scooter over roots and stuff to get to the bench. Perhaps, yes, we should have intervened at this point and warned them about the marauding insect life, but no – his off roading antics were too fascinating to interrupt. Unfortunately for him his escape from the subsequent midge mauling was impeded by the fact that he couldn’t walk unaided and his heavy scooter was now grounded. His missus was no use as he was a big bloke so Ben S and I went to his rescue, dragging this guy and the equally weighty scooter out back onto the path. I dread to think what kind of state those two would have been in if we’d not intervened as they were pretty much stuck there. Bloody disabled day trippers eh?]
Fortunately we were not baked in the sun on the monster carry up Black Sail Pass. It was extremely hard work but to be honest the severe gradient at least meant it didn’t last too long.
Once at the top we waited while Jo walked for miles to find a suitable toilet spot which was out of the view of the walkers coming down from Kirk Fell. Then we were able to set off on the steep descent into Mosedale. This was mainly a further carry/push at the top as the surface was either a very steep rocky path or loose chossy shale, and rather risky to ride, this only being the first day of the tour. Ben F however rode it until he came off over the bars, and we thought he’d miraculously managed to get away without body or bike damage. The bottom half of the descent however was great – rideable, technical, fast and excellent fun all the way down into the valley.
As we rolled into the Wasdale Head Inn the sun was shining so we were able to sink pints of shandy etc sunning ourselves just outside the toilets. Nice. A sheep dog type dog added to the beer garden fun with it’s endless stick chasing enthusiasm. By this time we’d covered the best part of 30 miles including a big (1000ft) carry and we were knackered. However, onwards and upwards and we reluctantly rolled out into Wasdale past the camp site (and completely dry river bed) and up onto the tops again towards Burnmoor Tarn. Another [600ft] big pull and this time in the sunshine and it was hot. Once at the top we knew we had a load of descent to look forward to, right down to our destination: Eskdale. However, just before we got to the tarn, Ben F pulled up with a major technical – his rear mech hanger snapped off. This was likely a result of the Black Sail off he had. No amount of technical expertise from Ben S could salvage the situation properly so that was pretty much the end of Ben F’s riding for the day (and for tomorrow as he’ll have to bike shop it to get it fixed).
There was more to come as just past the tarn Christian had an off which resulted in him seriously twisting his ankle to the point where he could not put any weight on it. Serious stuff by the looks of things
We limped on (down a brilliant descent for those who could manage it )and eventually stopped at a pub at Boot where we were able to simutaneously ice Chris’s damaged foot and have a beer. We then pushed Chris on his bike the couple of miles up the road to the B&B here. The lady owner kindly drove Chris back to the pub so we could get some food (the pub in Boot I should add, as the one right near the B&B was insisting we eat “now” as they were busy) and also drove him back. John and I cycled both ways.
Decent food at the pub although there was some debate as to whether Ben S’s steak was in any way rare as he’d ordered it.
A beautiful clear evening – gorgeous weather really. Forecast is for some rain tomorrow though. Ben F and Chris are going to try and get a lift from the Packhorse baggage man to Ambleside (with their bikes). Chris needs to rest his foot and Ben needs to get his bike fixed.
So, that’s day one over and we have a 33% casualty rate so far!
[Cute lambs at the B&B by the way. It was a working farm and our bikes were locked up in the sheep shed.]
DAY THREE
Monday. High Close Youth Hostel, just outside Windermere.
The Ride:
Farm. Bridleway to Boot (for a shop stop) and a wade in the river. Hardknott Pass start. Harter Fell climb/carry. (Clouds lift after slightly drizzly start). Woods, boggy. Forestry descent (past crazy tree chopping monster machine); added bridleway fun; descended through Wallowbarrow; beautiful cheeky footpath option (bridge and river – Jo’s dad’s painting). Road at Seathwaite. Walna Scar Road ascent (bastard. “c” word). Met girlie walkers and dog. Descent of a lifetime into Coniston. Lunch (curly chips). Sunny. Tilberthwaite road climb out of valley and never ending descent into Little Langdale. Elterwater. Crossed Great Langdale and climbed road to (eventually) Loughrigg Terrace: stunning view & shit. More foul words. Amazing descent to Ambleside: everyone getting giddy. Jo giggling (this was possibly earlier). Climbed (via several wrong turns) to Jenkin Crag. Beautiful views of Windermere in the sun. Lots more ups and downs and finally arrived at Hostel at 6:45pm.
What a fucking fabulous day, frankly.
Christian was then picked up from hostel by his mate who’d driven out to get him, so now we are five.
Ben F had a bit of a nightmare in the shop with his bike: real arsey staff.
John has serious bum chafing issues: he needs arse lard and lycra.
Pubs ALL stopped food at 8:30: just before we arrived at them.
Nice taxi driver man eventually got us to a pub in Windermere where they played drum and bass but did excellent meals.
The boys are now playing giant Connect 4 here in the hostel lounge.
A strange woman is interrupting our conversations. Jo has to sleep with her. Oh dear.
Now we are posting on BikeMagic.
BIKE, EAT, SLEEP. C to C 2006.
Ben F:
Back to first thing… (Ben & Christian)
My day began with witnessing Christian once more crawl over the hall to the toilet. Then, having got ready the ritual breakfast grading began.
Once this was over it was time to watch the helmets pass the window as Christian and I settled down to watch “Homes Under the Hammer”. (Ahem, enough said.)
But then, our saviour Simon the Packhorse driver arrived and our 4 hour guided tour of The Lakes began. We toured much, including the infamous midgey patch at … [?]
My trip ended with a drop off at Biketrax in Ambleside. Having obtained the necessary replacement parts off a rather unhelpful bunch of later coined cock weasels (by Ben S aka Tin Tin) and Christian who continued to the YHA.
I journeyed (walking) riding my now single speed for 2 hours before meeting Christian at the hostel. Finally the rest of the guys rolled up at around 7, and I’m sure their day has been well documented.
Ben S (Tin Tin!) :
Some of the best riding I’ve ever had the pleasure of ascending and descending. Awesome views, big country! Today’s trip well described. Longest day to come tomorrow though. Walna Scar ascent will be ridden in 1 next year!
(We are now in the kitchen.)
BREAKFAST RATING (Penny Hill Farm):
V.Good sausage, poor bacon; v.poor fried bread. No beans. Good eggs.
General consensus = 6. Possibly 5.5. (Much arguments about sausages. Much arguments about eggs. Much argument about mushrooms.)
Oh, yes. Got tuna sarny with curly chips for lunch in Coniston but it was expensive. There was egg and chips consumed as well. Everything is expensive – it’s an expensive trip!
This hostel, although a bit piss poor in facilities, is in a fabulous spot overlooking Windermere.
BREAKFAST RATING (Windermere):
NOTE: Full English only visited by Jo and Ben.
Poor. Jo’s verdict: scrapes a 3. Ben’s verdict: 4. Ben got Porridge. Though, which has perhaps skewed his verdict. Ben F & John had “cracking” continental option with a croissant. Softies.
Saturday 10th June
St Bees Head, Cumbria
Well, here I am on tour #2. The lads (and girl) have arrived at the starting gate, are under orders and are raring to go.
Actually Ben S is fast asleep. He’s no doubt in recovery from the sad loss of his BRAND NEW sunglasses during our swim in the sea. Yes folks, the weather is boiling hot. It’s about 80F and the sun really is burning, so much so that we did have a proper swim in the sea.
The B&B we are at (Stonehouse Farm) is lovely and the temptation is most definitely to stop here for a week and make the whole trip up in posts to the North Leeds thread on BikeMagic.
No chance. We have seven days of off road mayhem ahead of us – err, how fab is that?!
We arrived here at St Bees almost exactly to the minute that Christian’s Tom Tom had forecast we would when we left Leeds. Spooky, Or clever.
There’s been some sort of football match today. England apparently are playing in the finals of some tournament, and this was their first game. They won 1-0 against the mighty Paraguay. We watched it at one of the three local pubs within about 50 yards of the B&B. We are, ts has to be said, a tad spoilt for choice.
After the footy we changed into swimming gear, walked the mile or so down to the beach and had a swim in the lovely Irish Sea. The sea, OK, was quite cold but it honestly was fine once you were in.
It was at this juncture that the aforementioned sunglasses loss occurred when Ben dived under a wave whilst still wearing them.
Jo didn’t quite “swim” and to be honest was heard to girlie scream quite a bit whilst avoiding getting properly wet. More an advanced paddle I would call it, but she is a girl.
We returned from swimming (and a round of ice creams at a conveniently positioned beach-side ice cream van) to get the G&Ts in on the veranda. This amounted to a half bottle of G from the local shop; 2 bottles of T; plus a lemon and a lime. Actually, two limes as Christian stole a second one the pikey twat.
So now it’s showers all round and then I think we are off to the pub for more food. So far today we’ve polished off (in the car) Jo’s fine selection of fruit (pineapple and apples) and a large packet of crisps. Then there was serious sandwiches for lunch at the pub and then the round of ice creams.
We are all HUNGRY now, again. Ben S and John are in room 1 here. Chris, Ben F and myself are in room 2, while Jo is upstairs in room 4.
DAY TWO
Sunday. Pennyhill Farm B&B Eskdale, Lakes
The day started from St Bees with the compulsory “dip” in the sea. Except we didn’t quite dip as the tide was out – we just rode onto the pebbles and then got our picture taken on the prom by some “old ladies” (as John called them – they were likely in their 50s) who were doing half of the walking coast to coast.
The Serious Six then started out on their trek with great gusto and enthusiasm for the mighty task ahead and were all knackered after the first (road) climb out of St Bees.
Stonehouse Farm did a marvellous breakfast it has to be said. There is an ongoing debate as to whether it scores a 7 or 8 out of 10. We need some more full English offerings down us so we can compare, and then maybe recalibrate the scoring system. [In the end no breakfasts were deemed better than this one. And it ended up rating an 8. Or was it a 7?]
The Ride: 34 miles or so was the task set today (23 off road). At least half of that total distance was done on the easy trails of the Sustrans C2C route from the coast, and then on the long fire trail down the lakeside and into the end of the valley.
The weather was warm, humid and mainly cloudy all day but when the sun did come out it was roasting hot.
[Mention should be made here of the lake-side bench under the trees lunch sandwich stop, which was wonderful for about 5 minutes until clouds of midges found us and got a serious biting thing going on. We quickly moved off and sat just out of the trees, amusing ourselves by throwing stones into the lake. Just then a disabled guy on an electric scooter and his partner rolled slowly passed us on the lakeside track. They too spotted the inviting looking bench in the trees and the bloke totally went for the off road option, banging his in no way off road equipped scooter over roots and stuff to get to the bench. Perhaps, yes, we should have intervened at this point and warned them about the marauding insect life, but no – his off roading antics were too fascinating to interrupt. Unfortunately for him his escape from the subsequent midge mauling was impeded by the fact that he couldn’t walk unaided and his heavy scooter was now grounded. His missus was no use as he was a big bloke so Ben S and I went to his rescue, dragging this guy and the equally weighty scooter out back onto the path. I dread to think what kind of state those two would have been in if we’d not intervened as they were pretty much stuck there. Bloody disabled day trippers eh?]
Fortunately we were not baked in the sun on the monster carry up Black Sail Pass. It was extremely hard work but to be honest the severe gradient at least meant it didn’t last too long.
Once at the top we waited while Jo walked for miles to find a suitable toilet spot which was out of the view of the walkers coming down from Kirk Fell. Then we were able to set off on the steep descent into Mosedale. This was mainly a further carry/push at the top as the surface was either a very steep rocky path or loose chossy shale, and rather risky to ride, this only being the first day of the tour. Ben F however rode it until he came off over the bars, and we thought he’d miraculously managed to get away without body or bike damage. The bottom half of the descent however was great – rideable, technical, fast and excellent fun all the way down into the valley.
As we rolled into the Wasdale Head Inn the sun was shining so we were able to sink pints of shandy etc sunning ourselves just outside the toilets. Nice. A sheep dog type dog added to the beer garden fun with it’s endless stick chasing enthusiasm. By this time we’d covered the best part of 30 miles including a big (1000ft) carry and we were knackered. However, onwards and upwards and we reluctantly rolled out into Wasdale past the camp site (and completely dry river bed) and up onto the tops again towards Burnmoor Tarn. Another [600ft] big pull and this time in the sunshine and it was hot. Once at the top we knew we had a load of descent to look forward to, right down to our destination: Eskdale. However, just before we got to the tarn, Ben F pulled up with a major technical – his rear mech hanger snapped off. This was likely a result of the Black Sail off he had. No amount of technical expertise from Ben S could salvage the situation properly so that was pretty much the end of Ben F’s riding for the day (and for tomorrow as he’ll have to bike shop it to get it fixed).
There was more to come as just past the tarn Christian had an off which resulted in him seriously twisting his ankle to the point where he could not put any weight on it. Serious stuff by the looks of things
We limped on (down a brilliant descent for those who could manage it )and eventually stopped at a pub at Boot where we were able to simutaneously ice Chris’s damaged foot and have a beer. We then pushed Chris on his bike the couple of miles up the road to the B&B here. The lady owner kindly drove Chris back to the pub so we could get some food (the pub in Boot I should add, as the one right near the B&B was insisting we eat “now” as they were busy) and also drove him back. John and I cycled both ways.
Decent food at the pub although there was some debate as to whether Ben S’s steak was in any way rare as he’d ordered it.
A beautiful clear evening – gorgeous weather really. Forecast is for some rain tomorrow though. Ben F and Chris are going to try and get a lift from the Packhorse baggage man to Ambleside (with their bikes). Chris needs to rest his foot and Ben needs to get his bike fixed.
So, that’s day one over and we have a 33% casualty rate so far!
[Cute lambs at the B&B by the way. It was a working farm and our bikes were locked up in the sheep shed.]
DAY THREE
Monday. High Close Youth Hostel, just outside Windermere.
The Ride:
Farm. Bridleway to Boot (for a shop stop) and a wade in the river. Hardknott Pass start. Harter Fell climb/carry. (Clouds lift after slightly drizzly start). Woods, boggy. Forestry descent (past crazy tree chopping monster machine); added bridleway fun; descended through Wallowbarrow; beautiful cheeky footpath option (bridge and river – Jo’s dad’s painting). Road at Seathwaite. Walna Scar Road ascent (bastard. “c” word). Met girlie walkers and dog. Descent of a lifetime into Coniston. Lunch (curly chips). Sunny. Tilberthwaite road climb out of valley and never ending descent into Little Langdale. Elterwater. Crossed Great Langdale and climbed road to (eventually) Loughrigg Terrace: stunning view & shit. More foul words. Amazing descent to Ambleside: everyone getting giddy. Jo giggling (this was possibly earlier). Climbed (via several wrong turns) to Jenkin Crag. Beautiful views of Windermere in the sun. Lots more ups and downs and finally arrived at Hostel at 6:45pm.
What a fucking fabulous day, frankly.
Christian was then picked up from hostel by his mate who’d driven out to get him, so now we are five.
Ben F had a bit of a nightmare in the shop with his bike: real arsey staff.
John has serious bum chafing issues: he needs arse lard and lycra.
Pubs ALL stopped food at 8:30: just before we arrived at them.
Nice taxi driver man eventually got us to a pub in Windermere where they played drum and bass but did excellent meals.
The boys are now playing giant Connect 4 here in the hostel lounge.
A strange woman is interrupting our conversations. Jo has to sleep with her. Oh dear.
Now we are posting on BikeMagic.
BIKE, EAT, SLEEP. C to C 2006.
Ben F:
Back to first thing… (Ben & Christian)
My day began with witnessing Christian once more crawl over the hall to the toilet. Then, having got ready the ritual breakfast grading began.
Once this was over it was time to watch the helmets pass the window as Christian and I settled down to watch “Homes Under the Hammer”. (Ahem, enough said.)
But then, our saviour Simon the Packhorse driver arrived and our 4 hour guided tour of The Lakes began. We toured much, including the infamous midgey patch at … [?]
My trip ended with a drop off at Biketrax in Ambleside. Having obtained the necessary replacement parts off a rather unhelpful bunch of later coined cock weasels (by Ben S aka Tin Tin) and Christian who continued to the YHA.
I journeyed (walking) riding my now single speed for 2 hours before meeting Christian at the hostel. Finally the rest of the guys rolled up at around 7, and I’m sure their day has been well documented.
Ben S (Tin Tin!) :
Some of the best riding I’ve ever had the pleasure of ascending and descending. Awesome views, big country! Today’s trip well described. Longest day to come tomorrow though. Walna Scar ascent will be ridden in 1 next year!
(We are now in the kitchen.)
BREAKFAST RATING (Penny Hill Farm):
V.Good sausage, poor bacon; v.poor fried bread. No beans. Good eggs.
General consensus = 6. Possibly 5.5. (Much arguments about sausages. Much arguments about eggs. Much argument about mushrooms.)
Oh, yes. Got tuna sarny with curly chips for lunch in Coniston but it was expensive. There was egg and chips consumed as well. Everything is expensive – it’s an expensive trip!
This hostel, although a bit piss poor in facilities, is in a fabulous spot overlooking Windermere.
BREAKFAST RATING (Windermere):
NOTE: Full English only visited by Jo and Ben.
Poor. Jo’s verdict: scrapes a 3. Ben’s verdict: 4. Ben got Porridge. Though, which has perhaps skewed his verdict. Ben F & John had “cracking” continental option with a croissant. Softies.
Coast to Coast (Part 2)
DAY FOUR
Tuesday. Kirby Stephen Youth Hostel.
We are at the very excellent Kirby Stephen youth hostel. It’s “mint” as Ben F stated. Why? Firstly it’s an old church and I am now sat in the chapel with pews for seats for eating, and the area under the balcony is a kitchen. It’s quite wonderful. The landlady Clare is lovely too. What a pity this place is one of those closing in October.
We are also in the middle of the town, and right opposite a Co-op, so we’ve been able to get over there to buy food (and beer) for dinner.
Ben S is being team cook and we are having spag bog with extras. Marvellous.
Our journey here:
Town End to Kirby Stephen (36 miles: 19 off road).
Passes: Garburn, 1475 feet. Verdict: excellent. Good climb – mostly rideable and (yet)another rocky horror high excitement descent. Stile End: Short and sweet, nice descent again, and thus took us into Longsleddale which looked stunning but the track turned into a real monster ascent. Ben S amused himself by nailing parts of it, but mostly it was a ‘too steep to think about riding’ job. Stunning situation, mind.
This took us up to Brownhowe Bottom and a traverse across some boggy moorland towards Mosedale. This was extremely hard work and despite best efforts we all ended up with wet feet. Ben F managed to go over his bars again but this time landed safely in a bog.
[We did see a large bird of prey disappear into some trees in front of us at one point along here and I’m convinced it was a red kite.]
Eventually we arrived at the supremely isolated Mosedale cottage where luncheon was taken (we had bought packed lunches from Windermere hostel which were great).
Then we had a seemingly endless undulating yomp across another fucking great moor…. did a bit of road and at some point landed at Shap – all absolutely knackered.
We found a top newsagent which provided excellent take away teas which we were able to down whilst lounging in the grass in a park just opposite. We were all, as one, wishing that we’d finished for the day, but we still had 18 miles to go! Jo was begging for drugs: EPO in particular, but had to make do with Nurofen for her knackered knees (body in general). 2:30 we arrived there and 3:15 we left.
Fortunately the remaining mileage was mainly on minor roads and we were able to crack it off in a couple of hours, with some undulation once again. One real off road drag up a big field up to Bank Moor, some seriously fast road descents and a lot of tired legs.
A complete change of scenery as we went though – from the rocks and crag of the Lakes to the fields and meadows of the Vale of Eden once we’d crossed the M6. But, we rode triumphantly into K.Stephen at about 5:30pm.
Jo’s “mad woman” slept with her suitcase apparently. The lads mucked about loudly in their dorm – much more loudly than the 40 school kids it has to be said. It was too hot and no one slept well at all.
Jo states that the Windermere hostel is extremely poor: v.small rooms for instance; expensive for what you got (especially when you are paying extra for breakfast) and generally not very good.
Mention should be made of just how HARD this C2C route is. Technically very demanding and physically it’s just plain bloody hard work with long days in the saddle. Great stuff though.
This Youth Hostel, would you believe, has a full Park bike tool kit for our use – and most of it brand new: still in it’s packets. There is also a Park bike stand in the shed: hundreds of quid’s worth of premium quality tech kit – not being used. Except by us. The bikes are all stabled after having had a much needed thorough clean and Park tooled maintenance session.
Suntans and white bits are being compared. Looks like everyone will end up with the standard cyclist’s tan which starts just above the sock line and ends half way up one’s thigh where the lycra starts.
Jon:
Jon’s arse trouble got slightly better today with the use of Andy’s lycra shorts and minty arse lard – which required Jon to drop his pants mid-ride and re-apply. Managed to find some new cream in the Coop over the road. [Note a £2.50 tub of kids’ Sudocream does the job just as well as a £12 tube of specialist cyclists’ stuff.]
There’s a chap staying here who’s WALKING Land’s End to John O’Groats. How come, when you are doing these things which you reckon are personal epics there’s always some twat who’s doing so much more and manages to put your efforts in the shade. Git.
Yesterday in the Lakes was an utterly fabulous day out biking. The trouble is we do SO much each day that it’s impossible to remember it all. The climbs [in the Lakes] are long and hard (often carries/pushes – “grunts”) and the downhills are rock strewn, chossy, steep, fast, dangerous and wildly fun. And there’s just loads of them. Yesterday seemed like a mountain bike perfection day. A ‘best of’ the Lakes and all done in fantastic weather with no technicals – not even a puncture. I guess we (bikers) aim for those big ‘moments’ where it’s just sheer joy/lunacy - a mountain biking high - “endorphin city”. There’s been a lot of that on this trip already. There’s also the team element where the experience is multiplied by the knowledge that everyone else is going through exactly the same thing and you are all in this madness together. Difficult to put into words to be honest but whatever it is it’s incredible and a day like yesterday really is what makes us all do this thing.
Oh, by the way, Christian’s ankle isn’t broken – just badly sprained and will take a mere 2 weeks to heal up. He’s been on the phone and texted a few times. He must be absolutely gutted, the poor sod.
DAY FIVE
Wednesday. Springfield House B&B Reeth, Swaledale
Another monster day on the bikes, but I guess that goes without saying really. The welcome here at the B&B – tea and scones with home made jam – was brilliant. Jo is just down the road in a different place and without tea and scones.
There’s a double and a twin so we drew straws for the beds – or rather (in fine mountain biker stylee) we drew sunglasses lenses out of a waste paper bin. Ben S and I got the clear ones so we get the twin room, leaving the other guys the double bed.
We are just off to see if Jo is ready to come out to play – we are off to the pub.
Black Bull Pub
No one has had the “Grunt & Granny” sandwich (hot pork and apple sauce). This obviously would have been the entirely appropriate option, but we’ve gone en masse instead for the more filling looking giant Yorkshire pud with beef casserole and chips. Yum.
The Ride:
Cheeky footpath out of KS and then 6 miles v.quick on road. Then some bridleway, followed by “The Field of Doom” or “Bog of Tufty Doom” on a none existent bridleway over tall grassy, shitey, hugely uneven moorland. As usual for that type of terrain it was very hard work, but at least it was dry.
Next up was a road grunt up to the famous (“Highest Pub in Britain”) and remarkable Tan Hill Inn where there was a St George’s Cross painted pet sheep called “Tan” who lounged by the fire and let people stroke him. Honest. Tan is usually a scrounging pest by all accounts, but he was on good behaviour today and therefore allowed to stay indoors. Great pub: ridiculous location.
Met a couple of roadie tourers doing a coast to coast from Barrow to Sunderland and swapped a few tales over a cup of tea, shandies, soup etc. Most pleasant.
Next up was the Pennine Way with a distinct lack of downhill and two punctures. Eventually we got some excellent downhill and a fabulous track into Swaledale (Gunnerside) along the valley where we passed some walkers in fine speedy style, and then had the indignity of them walking past us while we fixed a puncture. “Hair and tortoise” comments were heard from them as they smugly sauntered past. All manner of threats were then heard from us by way of nasty physical and verbal revenge after they’d got out of ear shot – but we didn’t lower ourselves in the end.
Beautiful Swaledale bridleway by the river and then… a bastard long climb of 1000ft or so up to Apedale. We were all utterly wasted, especially our Jo, but heroics won through and she got top the top. Then there was an exiting downhill … another big climb. Ben F and Jo were right out at their limit by this point, but Kendal Mint Cake this time was our saviour – that and some Eccles cakes.
We arrived in lovely Reeth about 6 pm, almost minus Ben S who was So close to hitting a BMW on the final narrow road descent into the village – down which we were all really motoring it has to be said.
Oh, the food... Lovely but done and dusted in about 15 minutes. Extra potatoes demanded by all. It should be noted that for the morning John has ordered a half arsed breakfast. While the rest of the boys go for the full English J opts for an, ahem, bacon fucking sandwich. Mr B&B, it should be said, was not impressed by this – insulted, even.
Technical report: Ben F’s rear hub fixed by myself: bearings replaced. His rear brake is still rubbing a bit though.
Maps of next couple of days being scrutinised. Tomorrow looks like a relative rest day – handy as we just HAVE to get to Osmotherly for a 4pm kick off for some England game or other. The day after in the N.Yorks Moors however looks like an utter twat.
9:50 Black Bull Pub. Still.
The darts in the pub are broken but we have showed Swaledale how to play pool. Sort of. Germany have just dumped Poland out of the World Cup. Pool table and juke box to ourselves and “Perfect Day” plays on the jukey.
DAY 6
Thursday Osmotherley. Pub 4:30 PM.
England’s second World Cup finals match is due to start in half an hour.
Bit of a rest day today as it was mainly roadie-ing across the flat bit between the Pennines and the North Yorks Moors. Osmotherley is not far from the A19, nestled just under the west side of the latter set of hills.
We arrived about an hour ago and almost made it here without much incident. But, there’s a very shallow (and mossy) ford on the road about half a mile from the village and Ben S managed to off going across it and hit the road in the water very hard indeed. No real harm done luckily – just a few bruises and a hold in the back of his shorts. But it was a painful one.
Oh, and we also had a puncture-fest a few miles back after having done a bit of ‘extra’ bridle path across the edge of a field, which resulted in everyone bar John getting at least one puncture. The annoying thing was we’d done the field and all sat down in the sun for a break and discovered a couple of flats when we went to get back on the bikes. Then everyone checked their tyres to find all manner of enormous thorns in them. So, team puncture fixing ensued and we almost got run down by a miserable post van driver. Twice.
We did do some off roading this morning, out of Swaledale and round the side of a valley down into Richmond. A rare pit stop in civilisation enabled the use of cash points, Greggs and a grocers. It should be noted the Jo is done in after the excesses of yesterday’s gradients – she missed out the off road bit this morning and took the road option into Richmond, heading straight for a tea shop. She was most pleased that it was an easy day, but is threatening to dip out again tomorrow over some of the tops. We hope she manages to keep to The Route [She did].
Our mantra: The Route is the Way, and the Way is the Route.
We have an influx of intruders on the tour this evening: Jenny and Ed are coming up from Leeds for the evening, and these two it seems are seeing Ben and Jo respectively. Which is nice.
Osmotherley is another lovely village. Reeth was beautiful too – real picture postcard locations. We have seen a lot of these lovely little places on this trip.
Weather today: Very hot: a lot of sun. Good job we weren’t in the hills really.
6:55 and England have just won 2-0. They were not entirely convincing it has to be said.
Tuesday. Kirby Stephen Youth Hostel.
We are at the very excellent Kirby Stephen youth hostel. It’s “mint” as Ben F stated. Why? Firstly it’s an old church and I am now sat in the chapel with pews for seats for eating, and the area under the balcony is a kitchen. It’s quite wonderful. The landlady Clare is lovely too. What a pity this place is one of those closing in October.
We are also in the middle of the town, and right opposite a Co-op, so we’ve been able to get over there to buy food (and beer) for dinner.
Ben S is being team cook and we are having spag bog with extras. Marvellous.
Our journey here:
Town End to Kirby Stephen (36 miles: 19 off road).
Passes: Garburn, 1475 feet. Verdict: excellent. Good climb – mostly rideable and (yet)another rocky horror high excitement descent. Stile End: Short and sweet, nice descent again, and thus took us into Longsleddale which looked stunning but the track turned into a real monster ascent. Ben S amused himself by nailing parts of it, but mostly it was a ‘too steep to think about riding’ job. Stunning situation, mind.
This took us up to Brownhowe Bottom and a traverse across some boggy moorland towards Mosedale. This was extremely hard work and despite best efforts we all ended up with wet feet. Ben F managed to go over his bars again but this time landed safely in a bog.
[We did see a large bird of prey disappear into some trees in front of us at one point along here and I’m convinced it was a red kite.]
Eventually we arrived at the supremely isolated Mosedale cottage where luncheon was taken (we had bought packed lunches from Windermere hostel which were great).
Then we had a seemingly endless undulating yomp across another fucking great moor…. did a bit of road and at some point landed at Shap – all absolutely knackered.
We found a top newsagent which provided excellent take away teas which we were able to down whilst lounging in the grass in a park just opposite. We were all, as one, wishing that we’d finished for the day, but we still had 18 miles to go! Jo was begging for drugs: EPO in particular, but had to make do with Nurofen for her knackered knees (body in general). 2:30 we arrived there and 3:15 we left.
Fortunately the remaining mileage was mainly on minor roads and we were able to crack it off in a couple of hours, with some undulation once again. One real off road drag up a big field up to Bank Moor, some seriously fast road descents and a lot of tired legs.
A complete change of scenery as we went though – from the rocks and crag of the Lakes to the fields and meadows of the Vale of Eden once we’d crossed the M6. But, we rode triumphantly into K.Stephen at about 5:30pm.
Jo’s “mad woman” slept with her suitcase apparently. The lads mucked about loudly in their dorm – much more loudly than the 40 school kids it has to be said. It was too hot and no one slept well at all.
Jo states that the Windermere hostel is extremely poor: v.small rooms for instance; expensive for what you got (especially when you are paying extra for breakfast) and generally not very good.
Mention should be made of just how HARD this C2C route is. Technically very demanding and physically it’s just plain bloody hard work with long days in the saddle. Great stuff though.
This Youth Hostel, would you believe, has a full Park bike tool kit for our use – and most of it brand new: still in it’s packets. There is also a Park bike stand in the shed: hundreds of quid’s worth of premium quality tech kit – not being used. Except by us. The bikes are all stabled after having had a much needed thorough clean and Park tooled maintenance session.
Suntans and white bits are being compared. Looks like everyone will end up with the standard cyclist’s tan which starts just above the sock line and ends half way up one’s thigh where the lycra starts.
Jon:
Jon’s arse trouble got slightly better today with the use of Andy’s lycra shorts and minty arse lard – which required Jon to drop his pants mid-ride and re-apply. Managed to find some new cream in the Coop over the road. [Note a £2.50 tub of kids’ Sudocream does the job just as well as a £12 tube of specialist cyclists’ stuff.]
There’s a chap staying here who’s WALKING Land’s End to John O’Groats. How come, when you are doing these things which you reckon are personal epics there’s always some twat who’s doing so much more and manages to put your efforts in the shade. Git.
Yesterday in the Lakes was an utterly fabulous day out biking. The trouble is we do SO much each day that it’s impossible to remember it all. The climbs [in the Lakes] are long and hard (often carries/pushes – “grunts”) and the downhills are rock strewn, chossy, steep, fast, dangerous and wildly fun. And there’s just loads of them. Yesterday seemed like a mountain bike perfection day. A ‘best of’ the Lakes and all done in fantastic weather with no technicals – not even a puncture. I guess we (bikers) aim for those big ‘moments’ where it’s just sheer joy/lunacy - a mountain biking high - “endorphin city”. There’s been a lot of that on this trip already. There’s also the team element where the experience is multiplied by the knowledge that everyone else is going through exactly the same thing and you are all in this madness together. Difficult to put into words to be honest but whatever it is it’s incredible and a day like yesterday really is what makes us all do this thing.
Oh, by the way, Christian’s ankle isn’t broken – just badly sprained and will take a mere 2 weeks to heal up. He’s been on the phone and texted a few times. He must be absolutely gutted, the poor sod.
DAY FIVE
Wednesday. Springfield House B&B Reeth, Swaledale
Another monster day on the bikes, but I guess that goes without saying really. The welcome here at the B&B – tea and scones with home made jam – was brilliant. Jo is just down the road in a different place and without tea and scones.
There’s a double and a twin so we drew straws for the beds – or rather (in fine mountain biker stylee) we drew sunglasses lenses out of a waste paper bin. Ben S and I got the clear ones so we get the twin room, leaving the other guys the double bed.
We are just off to see if Jo is ready to come out to play – we are off to the pub.
Black Bull Pub
No one has had the “Grunt & Granny” sandwich (hot pork and apple sauce). This obviously would have been the entirely appropriate option, but we’ve gone en masse instead for the more filling looking giant Yorkshire pud with beef casserole and chips. Yum.
The Ride:
Cheeky footpath out of KS and then 6 miles v.quick on road. Then some bridleway, followed by “The Field of Doom” or “Bog of Tufty Doom” on a none existent bridleway over tall grassy, shitey, hugely uneven moorland. As usual for that type of terrain it was very hard work, but at least it was dry.
Next up was a road grunt up to the famous (“Highest Pub in Britain”) and remarkable Tan Hill Inn where there was a St George’s Cross painted pet sheep called “Tan” who lounged by the fire and let people stroke him. Honest. Tan is usually a scrounging pest by all accounts, but he was on good behaviour today and therefore allowed to stay indoors. Great pub: ridiculous location.
Met a couple of roadie tourers doing a coast to coast from Barrow to Sunderland and swapped a few tales over a cup of tea, shandies, soup etc. Most pleasant.
Next up was the Pennine Way with a distinct lack of downhill and two punctures. Eventually we got some excellent downhill and a fabulous track into Swaledale (Gunnerside) along the valley where we passed some walkers in fine speedy style, and then had the indignity of them walking past us while we fixed a puncture. “Hair and tortoise” comments were heard from them as they smugly sauntered past. All manner of threats were then heard from us by way of nasty physical and verbal revenge after they’d got out of ear shot – but we didn’t lower ourselves in the end.
Beautiful Swaledale bridleway by the river and then… a bastard long climb of 1000ft or so up to Apedale. We were all utterly wasted, especially our Jo, but heroics won through and she got top the top. Then there was an exiting downhill … another big climb. Ben F and Jo were right out at their limit by this point, but Kendal Mint Cake this time was our saviour – that and some Eccles cakes.
We arrived in lovely Reeth about 6 pm, almost minus Ben S who was So close to hitting a BMW on the final narrow road descent into the village – down which we were all really motoring it has to be said.
Oh, the food... Lovely but done and dusted in about 15 minutes. Extra potatoes demanded by all. It should be noted that for the morning John has ordered a half arsed breakfast. While the rest of the boys go for the full English J opts for an, ahem, bacon fucking sandwich. Mr B&B, it should be said, was not impressed by this – insulted, even.
Technical report: Ben F’s rear hub fixed by myself: bearings replaced. His rear brake is still rubbing a bit though.
Maps of next couple of days being scrutinised. Tomorrow looks like a relative rest day – handy as we just HAVE to get to Osmotherly for a 4pm kick off for some England game or other. The day after in the N.Yorks Moors however looks like an utter twat.
9:50 Black Bull Pub. Still.
The darts in the pub are broken but we have showed Swaledale how to play pool. Sort of. Germany have just dumped Poland out of the World Cup. Pool table and juke box to ourselves and “Perfect Day” plays on the jukey.
DAY 6
Thursday Osmotherley. Pub 4:30 PM.
England’s second World Cup finals match is due to start in half an hour.
Bit of a rest day today as it was mainly roadie-ing across the flat bit between the Pennines and the North Yorks Moors. Osmotherley is not far from the A19, nestled just under the west side of the latter set of hills.
We arrived about an hour ago and almost made it here without much incident. But, there’s a very shallow (and mossy) ford on the road about half a mile from the village and Ben S managed to off going across it and hit the road in the water very hard indeed. No real harm done luckily – just a few bruises and a hold in the back of his shorts. But it was a painful one.
Oh, and we also had a puncture-fest a few miles back after having done a bit of ‘extra’ bridle path across the edge of a field, which resulted in everyone bar John getting at least one puncture. The annoying thing was we’d done the field and all sat down in the sun for a break and discovered a couple of flats when we went to get back on the bikes. Then everyone checked their tyres to find all manner of enormous thorns in them. So, team puncture fixing ensued and we almost got run down by a miserable post van driver. Twice.
We did do some off roading this morning, out of Swaledale and round the side of a valley down into Richmond. A rare pit stop in civilisation enabled the use of cash points, Greggs and a grocers. It should be noted the Jo is done in after the excesses of yesterday’s gradients – she missed out the off road bit this morning and took the road option into Richmond, heading straight for a tea shop. She was most pleased that it was an easy day, but is threatening to dip out again tomorrow over some of the tops. We hope she manages to keep to The Route [She did].
Our mantra: The Route is the Way, and the Way is the Route.
We have an influx of intruders on the tour this evening: Jenny and Ed are coming up from Leeds for the evening, and these two it seems are seeing Ben and Jo respectively. Which is nice.
Osmotherley is another lovely village. Reeth was beautiful too – real picture postcard locations. We have seen a lot of these lovely little places on this trip.
Weather today: Very hot: a lot of sun. Good job we weren’t in the hills really.
6:55 and England have just won 2-0. They were not entirely convincing it has to be said.
Coast to Coast (Part 3)
DAY SEVEN
Friday. Greenhow B&B Glasedale, North Yorks (and later in the Glasedale pub).
A BIG day for the tour in the hills today, and all of it in the North Yorkshire Moors. This is not a place that we were really familiar with – until today. Personally I really, really enjoyed it out there today. There were loads of fabulous trails: some very hard ups, but all rideable, and the downhills were just amazing on the tracks across the tops (riggs) of the moors. Miles and miles and miles of it. Brilliant stuff. I managed to nail the toughest climb of the day, which I was chuffed about, but then fell off over the bars on a fairly technical descent. No real harm done (cuts and scrapes) but I do have a worryingly sore wrist.
Then I also became “Cock of the Day” with a comedy (show) off after a kids’ skid stop right near the end. I got stuck in my spds and tipped off sideways right in front of everyone. Cock.
Breakfast marks for Osmotherly B&B: Points lost for hard bacon and crap sausage. But, decent eggs and fried potatoes. All in all a six. Maybe 5.5.
[Trailspeak: During the duration of the trip a group vocabulary evolved out of the expletives uttered at the top of the brutal climbs. We amused each other by seeing who could come out with the most outrageously foul description to go with the outrageous effort we had put into getting up these monster hills. All this was done extremely loudly, in the great wide open, way out of earshot of anyone, for a whole week. So, you can imagine the level things dropped to towards the end. It had been pretty low at the start mind…]
The use of the ‘c’ word has become standard practice (after Ben S’s wonderful story relayed to us on Loughrigg Terrace of a friend of his who would publicly complain about he lack of “c**ting bacon” etc in ASDA) and is now commonly used in it’s adjective form before some of the more usual four letter words. For instance: “c**ting walkers”.
“Cockweasle” was another Ben S classic – initially used to decribe the bike shop people in Ambleside and their attitude towards Ben F.
Jo (the Queen of foul language) today came out with “c**ting knob cheese” at the top of one particularly difficult ascent, and there was even discussion of a “c**ting scale” (up to 10) for things which just went way over the top.
The trail language is choice. But very funny.
Jo is going to produce and market MINGE cloths. The name came first and we were then tasked with coming up with the acronym and so the Multi Integrated Natural Grease Elimination System was born. Squares of cotton for wiping things, basically.Genius idea and a great name. She’ll make millions.
A big day for punctures. We started at he B&B with three. John had a couple; the Bens both had two and I finished with one. Consequently there was a seriously high faff quotient to the day’s events.
We started at 10:20 and finished at 6:30. 35 miles with a lot of that off road. It was a hard one. Great though.
Jo (we have decided) needs some non-creamy honorary balls. The lady is a star, and was upset about not being able to be part of the arse larding ritual which occurs each day, often more than once. But she has taken a picture of us all in arse larding action. For her, err, collection.
The swapping of bike shoes so Ben S, John and myself could ride each others bikes for trial purposes has been described as “very gay”. Bollocks. How else do we try each others bikes. Bib shorts are admittedly very gay. The swapping of bike shoes is not.
Glasedale is a strangely shaped village. It’s set on a very steep hill and our B&B is right at the top (which was handy, as that’s the way we came in and we spotted the place almost straight away), and this pub is about 2 miles down the road. We don’t want to walk 2 miles back up the bloody great hill so the B&B people are coming down to pick us up at 10, “for a small contribution” – whatever that may be. 50p we reckon.
We have just been served up THE most excellent meals of the tour so far. Hands down the best food we’ve had all week. Really great home cooked stuff: my steak pie was just delicious and there was tons of it – and a pile of chips as well. And veg. The menu is unreal – what a place to eat. The food has been officially quoted by the tour as being “good shit”.
However, Ben STILL has not found a pub which serves any lamb. Lamb shank was actually offered up last night (and most of us ordered it!) but it turned out to be off the menu and we just had to settle for less. His torture is magnified by the fact that there are lambs everywhere in the fields and Ben may go and catch one to eat raw at some point soon.
Weather today: Cloudy and warm. No sun which was perfect. Also perfect was the fact that there was absolutely no wind at all on the tops of the moors which was a bit unreal to be honest. It did try to rain for half an hour or so late afternoon but it never quite got in precipitation gear – just a few drops - and we remained rain-free.
We passed by “Great Fryup” today. A place which in any other travelling situation has to be worthy of a detour to go visit.
DAY EIGHT
Saturday. Boggle Hole Youth Hostel, Robin Hoods Bay
Another pretty big day out for our last one. Lots of great trails again over more, err, moors. We started off with a monster of a road climb out of Grosmont – where there is a steam railway and it all looks very quaintly Yorkshire touristy.
Just previous to this village we’d bumped into this quite odd bloke who actually swore more than we did. He also had a real plumb in his mouth. His accent was still there but somewhat watered down and we deduced he was a proper upper class type who’d moved to the sticks (and probably bought the sticks).
Anyway, he was cycling along with two young lads when we initially passed him and they then caught us up as we were doing a map check. He was maybe in his mid thirties and nattered on about his road cycling and stuff, and then invited us to cross the road and check out the local BMX track, which just happened to be there. Pretty cool it was too and there was a lap or two completed by the tour members. Our bloke’s two mates were young lads (about 10 years old at a guess) and it looked like the kind of situation where this bloke would call round at these kids’ houses and see if they wanted to come out and play on their bikes.
We left him effing and blinding merrily away while we cracked on, and up a 1 in 3 real monster fucker (and many further expletives) rated road climb out of said railway town. But, this was a cheap way to gain serious height and get back up onto the moors. Then, funnily enough, there was a series of continual ups and downs to do – for most of the day. No change there then. I kept expecting the view to suddenly open up and reveal the coast, but there always seemed to be another moor between us and our destination.
[Ben S offed twice in the closing stages. The first one was when his front wheel was grasped by a pool of the stickiest mud ever, and he went straight over his bars. No major harm done there really. He saved his second and most serious off of the day until the absolute last bit of technical downhill. We’d had a long desecnt on an excellent chalky track which was full of deeply rutted but now dried up water channels. Mostly there was a line but sometimes drop offs were encountered and jumps were in order to get over some obstacle or other. That kind of thing. It was technical, fast, fun and dusty. Ben was at the front, unfortunately missed the very last jump and hit the dirt hard. Luckily he was protected from serious damage by his hip… Ouch.]
Eventually we were found to be climbing the very last ascent up to a mast and and to our well deserved viewpoint over Robin Hood’s Bay. And there it was – the other coast. Our destination. And after a sit and gawp at the scenery (and some shit) we were able to roll triumphantly down the old railway track right into town…. Except we missed a turning and ended up traipsing through some bloke’s field of a back garden carrying the bikes back up a steep hill, then following a footpath for a while until we found the correct track.
And THEN we were indeed able to roll triumphantly through the village past the hordes of tourists; straight out onto the beach, out across the sand (the tide was ouit) and dip wheels in the water. The Bens and John valiantly stripped off, donned swim shorts and dipped themselves into the cold North Sea. I waded a bit and Jo bravely dipped her toes in.
Pebbles from St Bees were duly dispatched in time honoured coast to coast fashion into said sea by those who had carried them across (Jo and myself that would be) .. and that was it. Job done. We had completed the Coast to Coast by mountain bike. The trek was over.
Err, not quite. There was the getting to the Boggle Hole Youth Hostel to do, but that could wait until after a couple of pints at the Wainwright’s pub on the harbour and some marvellous fish and chips. [Note should be made here that we have no end of trip team photo as the only chap to whom we gave a camera to get it, outside the pub- beers in hand, fucked it up and failed to take our picture. Twice. The twat.] We then had a rather fun traverse of the beach for a mile or so in the sand and through the odd stream to get to the youth hostel.
Boggle Hole Youth Hostel. Lovely position almost on the beach, in a beautiful part of the world. It’s an oasis of comfort. Or, it should be… they’ve put us in some side shack with an internal temperature today of about 50 degrees. There was much consternation within the team but at least Jo managed to get herself out of the boys’ dorm and into a girls’ one. Likely a lot less smelly and let’s hope the weirdo woman from Windermere with the suitcase is not in there with her. We are not really happy with this place.
Now we get ready to go out, back to the village, for some beers and hopefully some more food. Hungry again.
[That was it for the diary. That night was spent in three pubs amongst the it has to be said rather odd mix of folk who frequent Robin Hood’s Bay of a Saturday evening. Lots of walkers having finished their own coast to coast , but then there were the gypsy types for instance in one place who had two small yappy crap dogs which were encouraged to lick beer out of .. actually ‘share’ would be a better term for this… yes, the dogs shared beer glasses with their owners. Gross.
Ben rolled some serious fat ones on the balcony overlooking the sea outside one pub and we generally drank the evening away. We did manage to get some food in before they stopped serving it.
There was a mix of paths of return to the Youth Hostel with some of us braving the pitch dark and the path along the top (and dropping our phones under the wooden steps) whilst others braved the pitch dark and the water and returned along the beach. It should be noted that there was some shameful fridge raiding done by certain members of the team after we returned from the pub. How many packets of mini Jaffa cakes did those boys eat?
Christian’s car had been delivered to the youth hostel no problem and the keys left for us. Trouble is with that place though is that the car park is half a mile up the single track road which connects the hostel to civilisation, Our bags were dropped at said car park the evening before and we had to go up and wait for them..They are delivered by Packhorse to a local taxi firm who then charge for this service and then also charge to drop the bags off. Nice work if you can get it. We had to haul the bags down to the hostel and of course back up the fucking hill again the next morning, along with the bikes and full on hangovers, and no breakfast.
All this hauling of stuff, along with the awful accommodation (although it has to be said I did sleep well that night) did not endear Boggle Hole to the tour at all. Next time it’s a B&B in the village…
We eventually set off for home mid morning, stopping only for a final team meal on the A64: McDonalds. And guess what – it rained most of the way back. Ha-ha - could not have been more perfect timing.]
Friday. Greenhow B&B Glasedale, North Yorks (and later in the Glasedale pub).
A BIG day for the tour in the hills today, and all of it in the North Yorkshire Moors. This is not a place that we were really familiar with – until today. Personally I really, really enjoyed it out there today. There were loads of fabulous trails: some very hard ups, but all rideable, and the downhills were just amazing on the tracks across the tops (riggs) of the moors. Miles and miles and miles of it. Brilliant stuff. I managed to nail the toughest climb of the day, which I was chuffed about, but then fell off over the bars on a fairly technical descent. No real harm done (cuts and scrapes) but I do have a worryingly sore wrist.
Then I also became “Cock of the Day” with a comedy (show) off after a kids’ skid stop right near the end. I got stuck in my spds and tipped off sideways right in front of everyone. Cock.
Breakfast marks for Osmotherly B&B: Points lost for hard bacon and crap sausage. But, decent eggs and fried potatoes. All in all a six. Maybe 5.5.
[Trailspeak: During the duration of the trip a group vocabulary evolved out of the expletives uttered at the top of the brutal climbs. We amused each other by seeing who could come out with the most outrageously foul description to go with the outrageous effort we had put into getting up these monster hills. All this was done extremely loudly, in the great wide open, way out of earshot of anyone, for a whole week. So, you can imagine the level things dropped to towards the end. It had been pretty low at the start mind…]
The use of the ‘c’ word has become standard practice (after Ben S’s wonderful story relayed to us on Loughrigg Terrace of a friend of his who would publicly complain about he lack of “c**ting bacon” etc in ASDA) and is now commonly used in it’s adjective form before some of the more usual four letter words. For instance: “c**ting walkers”.
“Cockweasle” was another Ben S classic – initially used to decribe the bike shop people in Ambleside and their attitude towards Ben F.
Jo (the Queen of foul language) today came out with “c**ting knob cheese” at the top of one particularly difficult ascent, and there was even discussion of a “c**ting scale” (up to 10) for things which just went way over the top.
The trail language is choice. But very funny.
Jo is going to produce and market MINGE cloths. The name came first and we were then tasked with coming up with the acronym and so the Multi Integrated Natural Grease Elimination System was born. Squares of cotton for wiping things, basically.Genius idea and a great name. She’ll make millions.
A big day for punctures. We started at he B&B with three. John had a couple; the Bens both had two and I finished with one. Consequently there was a seriously high faff quotient to the day’s events.
We started at 10:20 and finished at 6:30. 35 miles with a lot of that off road. It was a hard one. Great though.
Jo (we have decided) needs some non-creamy honorary balls. The lady is a star, and was upset about not being able to be part of the arse larding ritual which occurs each day, often more than once. But she has taken a picture of us all in arse larding action. For her, err, collection.
The swapping of bike shoes so Ben S, John and myself could ride each others bikes for trial purposes has been described as “very gay”. Bollocks. How else do we try each others bikes. Bib shorts are admittedly very gay. The swapping of bike shoes is not.
Glasedale is a strangely shaped village. It’s set on a very steep hill and our B&B is right at the top (which was handy, as that’s the way we came in and we spotted the place almost straight away), and this pub is about 2 miles down the road. We don’t want to walk 2 miles back up the bloody great hill so the B&B people are coming down to pick us up at 10, “for a small contribution” – whatever that may be. 50p we reckon.
We have just been served up THE most excellent meals of the tour so far. Hands down the best food we’ve had all week. Really great home cooked stuff: my steak pie was just delicious and there was tons of it – and a pile of chips as well. And veg. The menu is unreal – what a place to eat. The food has been officially quoted by the tour as being “good shit”.
However, Ben STILL has not found a pub which serves any lamb. Lamb shank was actually offered up last night (and most of us ordered it!) but it turned out to be off the menu and we just had to settle for less. His torture is magnified by the fact that there are lambs everywhere in the fields and Ben may go and catch one to eat raw at some point soon.
Weather today: Cloudy and warm. No sun which was perfect. Also perfect was the fact that there was absolutely no wind at all on the tops of the moors which was a bit unreal to be honest. It did try to rain for half an hour or so late afternoon but it never quite got in precipitation gear – just a few drops - and we remained rain-free.
We passed by “Great Fryup” today. A place which in any other travelling situation has to be worthy of a detour to go visit.
DAY EIGHT
Saturday. Boggle Hole Youth Hostel, Robin Hoods Bay
Another pretty big day out for our last one. Lots of great trails again over more, err, moors. We started off with a monster of a road climb out of Grosmont – where there is a steam railway and it all looks very quaintly Yorkshire touristy.
Just previous to this village we’d bumped into this quite odd bloke who actually swore more than we did. He also had a real plumb in his mouth. His accent was still there but somewhat watered down and we deduced he was a proper upper class type who’d moved to the sticks (and probably bought the sticks).
Anyway, he was cycling along with two young lads when we initially passed him and they then caught us up as we were doing a map check. He was maybe in his mid thirties and nattered on about his road cycling and stuff, and then invited us to cross the road and check out the local BMX track, which just happened to be there. Pretty cool it was too and there was a lap or two completed by the tour members. Our bloke’s two mates were young lads (about 10 years old at a guess) and it looked like the kind of situation where this bloke would call round at these kids’ houses and see if they wanted to come out and play on their bikes.
We left him effing and blinding merrily away while we cracked on, and up a 1 in 3 real monster fucker (and many further expletives) rated road climb out of said railway town. But, this was a cheap way to gain serious height and get back up onto the moors. Then, funnily enough, there was a series of continual ups and downs to do – for most of the day. No change there then. I kept expecting the view to suddenly open up and reveal the coast, but there always seemed to be another moor between us and our destination.
[Ben S offed twice in the closing stages. The first one was when his front wheel was grasped by a pool of the stickiest mud ever, and he went straight over his bars. No major harm done there really. He saved his second and most serious off of the day until the absolute last bit of technical downhill. We’d had a long desecnt on an excellent chalky track which was full of deeply rutted but now dried up water channels. Mostly there was a line but sometimes drop offs were encountered and jumps were in order to get over some obstacle or other. That kind of thing. It was technical, fast, fun and dusty. Ben was at the front, unfortunately missed the very last jump and hit the dirt hard. Luckily he was protected from serious damage by his hip… Ouch.]
Eventually we were found to be climbing the very last ascent up to a mast and and to our well deserved viewpoint over Robin Hood’s Bay. And there it was – the other coast. Our destination. And after a sit and gawp at the scenery (and some shit) we were able to roll triumphantly down the old railway track right into town…. Except we missed a turning and ended up traipsing through some bloke’s field of a back garden carrying the bikes back up a steep hill, then following a footpath for a while until we found the correct track.
And THEN we were indeed able to roll triumphantly through the village past the hordes of tourists; straight out onto the beach, out across the sand (the tide was ouit) and dip wheels in the water. The Bens and John valiantly stripped off, donned swim shorts and dipped themselves into the cold North Sea. I waded a bit and Jo bravely dipped her toes in.
Pebbles from St Bees were duly dispatched in time honoured coast to coast fashion into said sea by those who had carried them across (Jo and myself that would be) .. and that was it. Job done. We had completed the Coast to Coast by mountain bike. The trek was over.
Err, not quite. There was the getting to the Boggle Hole Youth Hostel to do, but that could wait until after a couple of pints at the Wainwright’s pub on the harbour and some marvellous fish and chips. [Note should be made here that we have no end of trip team photo as the only chap to whom we gave a camera to get it, outside the pub- beers in hand, fucked it up and failed to take our picture. Twice. The twat.] We then had a rather fun traverse of the beach for a mile or so in the sand and through the odd stream to get to the youth hostel.
Boggle Hole Youth Hostel. Lovely position almost on the beach, in a beautiful part of the world. It’s an oasis of comfort. Or, it should be… they’ve put us in some side shack with an internal temperature today of about 50 degrees. There was much consternation within the team but at least Jo managed to get herself out of the boys’ dorm and into a girls’ one. Likely a lot less smelly and let’s hope the weirdo woman from Windermere with the suitcase is not in there with her. We are not really happy with this place.
Now we get ready to go out, back to the village, for some beers and hopefully some more food. Hungry again.
[That was it for the diary. That night was spent in three pubs amongst the it has to be said rather odd mix of folk who frequent Robin Hood’s Bay of a Saturday evening. Lots of walkers having finished their own coast to coast , but then there were the gypsy types for instance in one place who had two small yappy crap dogs which were encouraged to lick beer out of .. actually ‘share’ would be a better term for this… yes, the dogs shared beer glasses with their owners. Gross.
Ben rolled some serious fat ones on the balcony overlooking the sea outside one pub and we generally drank the evening away. We did manage to get some food in before they stopped serving it.
There was a mix of paths of return to the Youth Hostel with some of us braving the pitch dark and the path along the top (and dropping our phones under the wooden steps) whilst others braved the pitch dark and the water and returned along the beach. It should be noted that there was some shameful fridge raiding done by certain members of the team after we returned from the pub. How many packets of mini Jaffa cakes did those boys eat?
Christian’s car had been delivered to the youth hostel no problem and the keys left for us. Trouble is with that place though is that the car park is half a mile up the single track road which connects the hostel to civilisation, Our bags were dropped at said car park the evening before and we had to go up and wait for them..They are delivered by Packhorse to a local taxi firm who then charge for this service and then also charge to drop the bags off. Nice work if you can get it. We had to haul the bags down to the hostel and of course back up the fucking hill again the next morning, along with the bikes and full on hangovers, and no breakfast.
All this hauling of stuff, along with the awful accommodation (although it has to be said I did sleep well that night) did not endear Boggle Hole to the tour at all. Next time it’s a B&B in the village…
We eventually set off for home mid morning, stopping only for a final team meal on the A64: McDonalds. And guess what – it rained most of the way back. Ha-ha - could not have been more perfect timing.]
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Another right good do
Ok so none of you have ever heard of The Tragically Hip. Well, in a way that's great as when they do come over and play I get to see them in a small venue and witness a fantastic band play live at very close quarters.
The gig last Friday was amazing. It's the fourth time I've seen them in the Shepherd's Bush Empire as it's generally the only English venue they play when they come over to Europe.
These occasions happen about every three years so manage to really create a tangible fervour of expectation in the crowd. The Hip's stellar live reputation goes before them and they seem to be a band who really mean a great deal to their fans - one of these outfits who have a real die hard following and a massive amount of respect from people who have in many cases been fans for 15 years or more. And fortunately the respect goes both ways as the band do have a very real relationship with their fans, and I guess this is why they make the effort to get over here and play live every couple of years - something which is very unusual for a band who really do not sell many records outside of Canada.
My now 'usual' fellow Hip watchers Sam and Scottie were there; Rachael came over from Bristol and also ex workmate and recent Hip convert Nick, who drove us down the M1 for the show. We all got stuck in with the crowd downstairs and it was especially good to spend about half an hour front and centre singing (shouting!) along with Scottie.
The band really were on form and we got the best part of two hours' worth of Hipness. Lots of old, new and brand new including 3 tracks from their forthcoming album which is due out in October. Singer Gord Downie was his usual manic self. Whether he's singing, dancing, fighting with his microphone, ranting or just generally making faces and throwing shapes he is the absolute focus of the live show while the rest of the band just get on with the business of playing the songs. Downie was just soaked in sweat and exhausted by the end - much like his audience.
Great to see video cameras up by the sound desk, and it turns out that there's group of Canadian fans following these European dates and filming them all for unofficial distribution, sanctioned by the band. So we'll get some great live bootleg DVDs at some point: something I REALLY like to see :-)
So, all in all another fabulous evening's entertainment from our Canadian friends, and I spent the following day in Bristol with Rachael, which is a whole other story...
The gig last Friday was amazing. It's the fourth time I've seen them in the Shepherd's Bush Empire as it's generally the only English venue they play when they come over to Europe.
These occasions happen about every three years so manage to really create a tangible fervour of expectation in the crowd. The Hip's stellar live reputation goes before them and they seem to be a band who really mean a great deal to their fans - one of these outfits who have a real die hard following and a massive amount of respect from people who have in many cases been fans for 15 years or more. And fortunately the respect goes both ways as the band do have a very real relationship with their fans, and I guess this is why they make the effort to get over here and play live every couple of years - something which is very unusual for a band who really do not sell many records outside of Canada.
My now 'usual' fellow Hip watchers Sam and Scottie were there; Rachael came over from Bristol and also ex workmate and recent Hip convert Nick, who drove us down the M1 for the show. We all got stuck in with the crowd downstairs and it was especially good to spend about half an hour front and centre singing (shouting!) along with Scottie.
The band really were on form and we got the best part of two hours' worth of Hipness. Lots of old, new and brand new including 3 tracks from their forthcoming album which is due out in October. Singer Gord Downie was his usual manic self. Whether he's singing, dancing, fighting with his microphone, ranting or just generally making faces and throwing shapes he is the absolute focus of the live show while the rest of the band just get on with the business of playing the songs. Downie was just soaked in sweat and exhausted by the end - much like his audience.
Great to see video cameras up by the sound desk, and it turns out that there's group of Canadian fans following these European dates and filming them all for unofficial distribution, sanctioned by the band. So we'll get some great live bootleg DVDs at some point: something I REALLY like to see :-)
So, all in all another fabulous evening's entertainment from our Canadian friends, and I spent the following day in Bristol with Rachael, which is a whole other story...
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
A right good do
I had a last minute ticket offer (from Rachael - thanks SO much ) to see The Who in Hyde Park on Sunday. Always one of those bands who I felt I should see at least once: legendary stuff and all that, so I lashed it down on the train Sunday morning to London.
It's great to see that over the last few years Pete Towshend and Roger Daltrey seem to have made friends again, revived their band and found a love of playing those songs once more.
And what songs! Spine tingling stuff to hear stuff like Can't Explain, Who Are You, Baba O'Reilly, Behind Blue Eyes and Won't Get Fooled Again. The newer material was excellent too and Townshend's solo acoustic rendition of Drowned was, for me, stunning.
A great band with Zak Starkey giving it loads of Keith Moon behind the drums and Pino Palladino ably filling the equally giant shoes of John Entwhistle.
Lots of video on screens behind them throughout with the band paying their own resepcts to their long history and deceased colleagues.
Daltrey's kept himself and his voice in great shape and Pete Townshend obviously still enjoys being a very noisy arm windmilling guitar monster, although his days of wanton equipment trashing are thankfully behind him.
They may no longer be the angry young men of the 60s and 70s but I reckon they are a better live spectacle as content, energetic 'old' men simply enjoying what they do; respecting themselves, their history and their amazing catalogue of material, thus making The Who live an absolute joy to behold as a spectator.
Fantastic.
Great weather too: a beautiful hot summer's day and lovely warm evening. And great to be part of such a huge, well behaved crowd.
All in all right good do.
It's great to see that over the last few years Pete Towshend and Roger Daltrey seem to have made friends again, revived their band and found a love of playing those songs once more.
And what songs! Spine tingling stuff to hear stuff like Can't Explain, Who Are You, Baba O'Reilly, Behind Blue Eyes and Won't Get Fooled Again. The newer material was excellent too and Townshend's solo acoustic rendition of Drowned was, for me, stunning.
A great band with Zak Starkey giving it loads of Keith Moon behind the drums and Pino Palladino ably filling the equally giant shoes of John Entwhistle.
Lots of video on screens behind them throughout with the band paying their own resepcts to their long history and deceased colleagues.
Daltrey's kept himself and his voice in great shape and Pete Townshend obviously still enjoys being a very noisy arm windmilling guitar monster, although his days of wanton equipment trashing are thankfully behind him.
They may no longer be the angry young men of the 60s and 70s but I reckon they are a better live spectacle as content, energetic 'old' men simply enjoying what they do; respecting themselves, their history and their amazing catalogue of material, thus making The Who live an absolute joy to behold as a spectator.
Fantastic.
Great weather too: a beautiful hot summer's day and lovely warm evening. And great to be part of such a huge, well behaved crowd.
All in all right good do.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Scotland Part 3
DAY EIGHT
12:05 PM Thurs 25th
AROS visitor centre, Portree, Skye.
Andy
Just a note to say that outside the windows here right now it’s hailstoning - big ones. We’ve ridden 25 miles or so in a mixed bag of sunshine and heavy rain showers – the frequency and fieceness of which have gradually increased as we have ridden along the coast road from staffin. We opted for the north (east?) coast road as it’s quieter and the views over to torridon etc plus those of the Trotternish (Storr etc) here on Skye itself are most impressive. The Black Cuillin themselves have not long come into proper view and loom menacingly now in the near distance. The big tops of it’s north end: Gillean, Bastier etc tower above the rest of the island over there and there’s a fair amount of snow still on them. They do live up to their BLACK title very much from here.
Anyway – I digress - it’s not been a bad day so far. Indeed the early traverse of the Trotternish from Uig to get over to Staffin really was wonderful, and we were pushed along uphill by a stiff tail wind. The drop down to Staffin was steep (1:7) and exhilarating, and the road along the coast has been undulatiing and pleasant, spoilt only by rain showers as we eventually approached Portree.
Rich has ordered food and is now off in the shop looking for souvenirs - in particular one of those little things you turn over in your hand and it goes “moo”.
Last night was quite good fun in the (3 Star) Uig Youth Hostel with it’s hippy lady warden. First order of the evening was that I raced on my bike to the shop which was a bastard 2 miles down the hill at the ferry pier…
Rich
.. in search of provision, and we ate a hearty meal made up of bangers, mash and beans which andy then went and spoiled by putting cheese on and coleslaw with (he should never open a restaurant).
We spent yesterday evening in the YHA chatting with folks: 2 cyclists from of all places, Calverley; an Aussie couple and two young midwives from Croyden. The latter two pairings were on road trips and came out to Skye on a bit of a whim. Fair enough.
The riding today has been most scenic… except when the hail came down of course. We are now lounging replete and slightly steamy: not an unpleasant experience for us, but I can’t speak for our fellow diners. But they all came here by car so they don’t count.
Andy
Cheese on baked beans is genius. And coleslaw is a nutritious addition to any meal.
I’ve just bought a couple more of the long postcards – good ‘arty’ ones to put in frames at home. Trouble is they are too big to go in the bar bag so I am going to have to diamantle one of my panniers to get them to where they are safe from getting folded and/or wet.
5:10 Youth Hostel, Broadford. Skye
Well, after the Portree stop the weather was fine and sunny all the way here so we made good time with the wind behind us virtually all the way.
Personally I was most distressed to find myself racing past the Sligachan Hotel without at least stopping to pay my respects! Just goes to underline that a biking holiday is a biking holiday and the whole point of it is to be on the road. But still, to pass by such an iconic place with only a swift gaze about at the ridiculous mountain scenery and a quiet salute is a bit off!
I did notice a bot of a wobble in Rich’s back wheel today and thought nothing much of it as I presumed that he would have noticed anything awry when he was braking. But he didn’t – and we spotted the reason for the wobble when we were unloading the bikes in the shed here – he had about 6 very loose spokes! Sorted now though, and just in time by the looks of things.
We had considered going on to the next Hostel at Kyleakin – another 10 miles down to the Kyle of Lochalsh – but we took one look at this place and opted to stop here. It’s very nice. Great spot on the side of the loch looking over at Applecross etc, and anyway apparently the Hostel at Kyleakin is a noisy backpackers hangout with a non-existent curfew. AND there’s pub quiz in one of the local pubs here tonight organised by one of the wardens at theis hostel. Cool.
DAY NINE
Glencarron Hotel 1:35 PM
En route back to Torridon
Andy
It’s Drowned Rats day today – a LOT of rain so far and we are about half way on a big day with a fair few climbs still to do. A sense of humour failure (our first one) was not far away from both of us earlier on in the rain. We are cold and wet.
On the plus side the scenery is as ever wondrous and this café is very good. Top drawer lentil soup and warming sweet hot chocolate. Yum.
Oh, and we won the quiz night last night accompanied by two lady Scottish coppers!
Torridon Youth Hostel
Later that day
Rich
Yeah, that was weird. Andy had stopped on the way to the pub quiz to throw “skimmers” into the sea (quite amusing if you are 12, that is) and these two ladies from the hostel were going our way, one swinging a wine bottle… They were a good laugh: Kirtsie and Leslie (a 2nd Dan black belt at karate) and did not take and shit from anyone, including the locals which was pretty useful when we won the quiz! We then proceeded to spend the (£20!) prize money at the bar…
We woke up with hangovers and rain, neither of which looked set to go away in a hurry so we set off anyhow. After an easy start [up until just after we got across the Skye bridge] we hit some bad weather. Things were not helped when I was temporarily blinded by road salt pouring off my head and into my eyes. Although I was in serious danger of looking like a middle-aged crisis ridden Harley Davidson fanatic I nevertheless accepted Andy’s kind offer of his bandana (next stop – an inappropriate tattoo…?).
After our tea and soup stop the weather cleared and it all became a lot more pleasant, although some big hills inexplicably sprang up in front of us. I got my ice-cream (eventually) in Lochcarron, and we greedily munched our Cornettos in the mizzle while the midges, in turn, greedily munched us.
Andy
I must just say one thing here – skimming stones is much more than “quite amusing” when you are 12 – it’s an art. One which should be practiced and honed at any given opportunity, and which Rich will never appreciate as, lets be honest, he throws like a girl.
Quite amusing that Rich also ended up wearing the bandana after he’d been taking the piss out of me all week for the Buff wearing. Still, it kept the salt out of his eyes which was most excellent.
Today has been hard graft - a LOT of hills on every stage, and in particular two or three nasty little climbs as we felt were were on the very last home stretch bit. Some glorious scenery though, as ever. Loch Carron I would wager is amazing in half decent conditions and the run down (some excellent new black top) into Glen Torridon really was beautiful. And we even had the sun out for a while there.
We prepared a “skyscraper of food” each on the tiny little hostel plates. You’d think they’d realise that people who come here have big appetites…
One thing I have noticed in this hostel is the prevelance of the wearing of socks with sandals and this is most distressing.
We bought some cornflakes: excellent. The omellete, bacon and beans routine will finally be broken!
We were pondering the fate of the “Old Lady” we met in Ullapool while we were cycling along in the shit weather today – how would she be coping in such adverse conditions? Rich reckons she’ll she’ll be on Orkney fuelled by a Finger of Fudge and a cherry
tomato.
The two Calverley guys are here – the did the Applecross circuit today on top of coming back from Skye and it half killed them. There’s cycling and enjoying it (which I reckon is what Rich and I have been doing) – knowing your limits and not doing stuff just because it’s there – and then there’s being plain stupid.
Rich
Agreed again. I don’t do this just to tell tall stories in the hostels in the evenings to try to impress total strangers. Jeez – get a life.
[And that was about it. Plans to go and do the Applecroft circuit by bike (or by car) were shelved as the weather was lousy and there wasn’t really much point withiout the views. So, we left a day early. Actually due to the shortened Outer Hebrides episode we were two days earlier than planned as our original intention was to drive back down on the Bank Holiday Monday. But it would be good to be back home with a day to spare and not having to go straight to work the next day etc. We had a bit of a lie in the next (Saturday) morning, eventually packed the car, said goodbye to the top warden chappie and set off on the long drive home. We did a pit stop in the Cairngorms at the ski place who’s name escapes me now as we were going that way and neither of had been there before. Looks a top town and we dined in a café above a climbing shop which did the most excellent food. We got talking to a couple of blokes, University lecturers, who were heading up to Assynt on a geology field trip, which was most pleasant.
It was here that we had our one and only technical of the trip – and it involved Rich’s car. It had been smelling of diesel a bit and when we returned to it in the climbing shop car park to find it sat in it’s own colourful pool of fuel. The leak was soon found - it was pissing diesel from a split rubber seal thingy. We fixed it using the glue from a puncture repair kit and sealed it good and proper with a zip tie. A truly marvellous bodge job.
Once diesel stench free we drove south, and we drove south some more. And some more until we reached England. Then some more south; east a bit and eventually arrived in Calverley on Saturday evening. Rich stopped over and he headed back to Reading on the Sunday.]
[A side story of note from the final day: On arrival at the hostel we encountered an example of the phenomenon that is the strange lone male cyclist. This particular one was called John and we initially met him just as we rolled down the valley towards the hostel. (We had seen him as he left Broadford that morning while we were faffing with the bikes in the shed.) Immediate conversation revealed that his 60+ miles that day was ‘disappointing’ for him as he usually averages about 90, or 100 preferably. This did look initially most implausable as this guy was riding an ancient Raleigh Randonneur tourer with trainers, jogging pants, no helmet and a seat adjusted to what looked to be exactly the wrong height for optimum pedalling power. The only thing that marked him out as an any way serious tourer was a pair of smart Ortlieb panniers. We noticed he was in our dorm that night too and it seemed only polite to offer him a seat with us while we were eating. Hmmm. He had a LOT of cycling tales to tell – tours in Africa and North West USA plus him owning a house in Africa somewhere and offering it up as accommodation for cycle tourists… etc etc. All very interesting, and to fair he seemed a nice bloke, but Christ he didn’t half go on. I think Rich at some point escaped to do the dishes and I ran away to the quiet room and read a book or something. By the time he found us again we’d been chatting to the Calverley lads for a while so we were able to bid our goodnights to them all just as John was starting his round of tales again!
We did our late start and caught up with John on the road as he’s headed for Inverness as well that day. Christ he’d really coverered a lot of miles by the time we saw him, and he’s probably still out there, cycling round somewhere – same as “Old lady”. There’s a lot of them out there folks so treat them with care should you pass them on the roads.]
TOUR STATS
430 odd miles in car each way (Calverley to Torridon); 315 of which is in Scotland.
294 recorded on bike computer (it cut out in heavy rain) + 25 (Harris) + 60 (last day)
Approx 375 miles cycled in total. Max single day: 93 miles.
Recorded average = 13.1 mph.
Recorded max speed = 42.3 mph (I think this was descending into Ullapool)
Touring satisfaction quotient: 100%
12:05 PM Thurs 25th
AROS visitor centre, Portree, Skye.
Andy
Just a note to say that outside the windows here right now it’s hailstoning - big ones. We’ve ridden 25 miles or so in a mixed bag of sunshine and heavy rain showers – the frequency and fieceness of which have gradually increased as we have ridden along the coast road from staffin. We opted for the north (east?) coast road as it’s quieter and the views over to torridon etc plus those of the Trotternish (Storr etc) here on Skye itself are most impressive. The Black Cuillin themselves have not long come into proper view and loom menacingly now in the near distance. The big tops of it’s north end: Gillean, Bastier etc tower above the rest of the island over there and there’s a fair amount of snow still on them. They do live up to their BLACK title very much from here.
Anyway – I digress - it’s not been a bad day so far. Indeed the early traverse of the Trotternish from Uig to get over to Staffin really was wonderful, and we were pushed along uphill by a stiff tail wind. The drop down to Staffin was steep (1:7) and exhilarating, and the road along the coast has been undulatiing and pleasant, spoilt only by rain showers as we eventually approached Portree.
Rich has ordered food and is now off in the shop looking for souvenirs - in particular one of those little things you turn over in your hand and it goes “moo”.
Last night was quite good fun in the (3 Star) Uig Youth Hostel with it’s hippy lady warden. First order of the evening was that I raced on my bike to the shop which was a bastard 2 miles down the hill at the ferry pier…
Rich
.. in search of provision, and we ate a hearty meal made up of bangers, mash and beans which andy then went and spoiled by putting cheese on and coleslaw with (he should never open a restaurant).
We spent yesterday evening in the YHA chatting with folks: 2 cyclists from of all places, Calverley; an Aussie couple and two young midwives from Croyden. The latter two pairings were on road trips and came out to Skye on a bit of a whim. Fair enough.
The riding today has been most scenic… except when the hail came down of course. We are now lounging replete and slightly steamy: not an unpleasant experience for us, but I can’t speak for our fellow diners. But they all came here by car so they don’t count.
Andy
Cheese on baked beans is genius. And coleslaw is a nutritious addition to any meal.
I’ve just bought a couple more of the long postcards – good ‘arty’ ones to put in frames at home. Trouble is they are too big to go in the bar bag so I am going to have to diamantle one of my panniers to get them to where they are safe from getting folded and/or wet.
5:10 Youth Hostel, Broadford. Skye
Well, after the Portree stop the weather was fine and sunny all the way here so we made good time with the wind behind us virtually all the way.
Personally I was most distressed to find myself racing past the Sligachan Hotel without at least stopping to pay my respects! Just goes to underline that a biking holiday is a biking holiday and the whole point of it is to be on the road. But still, to pass by such an iconic place with only a swift gaze about at the ridiculous mountain scenery and a quiet salute is a bit off!
I did notice a bot of a wobble in Rich’s back wheel today and thought nothing much of it as I presumed that he would have noticed anything awry when he was braking. But he didn’t – and we spotted the reason for the wobble when we were unloading the bikes in the shed here – he had about 6 very loose spokes! Sorted now though, and just in time by the looks of things.
We had considered going on to the next Hostel at Kyleakin – another 10 miles down to the Kyle of Lochalsh – but we took one look at this place and opted to stop here. It’s very nice. Great spot on the side of the loch looking over at Applecross etc, and anyway apparently the Hostel at Kyleakin is a noisy backpackers hangout with a non-existent curfew. AND there’s pub quiz in one of the local pubs here tonight organised by one of the wardens at theis hostel. Cool.
DAY NINE
Glencarron Hotel 1:35 PM
En route back to Torridon
Andy
It’s Drowned Rats day today – a LOT of rain so far and we are about half way on a big day with a fair few climbs still to do. A sense of humour failure (our first one) was not far away from both of us earlier on in the rain. We are cold and wet.
On the plus side the scenery is as ever wondrous and this café is very good. Top drawer lentil soup and warming sweet hot chocolate. Yum.
Oh, and we won the quiz night last night accompanied by two lady Scottish coppers!
Torridon Youth Hostel
Later that day
Rich
Yeah, that was weird. Andy had stopped on the way to the pub quiz to throw “skimmers” into the sea (quite amusing if you are 12, that is) and these two ladies from the hostel were going our way, one swinging a wine bottle… They were a good laugh: Kirtsie and Leslie (a 2nd Dan black belt at karate) and did not take and shit from anyone, including the locals which was pretty useful when we won the quiz! We then proceeded to spend the (£20!) prize money at the bar…
We woke up with hangovers and rain, neither of which looked set to go away in a hurry so we set off anyhow. After an easy start [up until just after we got across the Skye bridge] we hit some bad weather. Things were not helped when I was temporarily blinded by road salt pouring off my head and into my eyes. Although I was in serious danger of looking like a middle-aged crisis ridden Harley Davidson fanatic I nevertheless accepted Andy’s kind offer of his bandana (next stop – an inappropriate tattoo…?).
After our tea and soup stop the weather cleared and it all became a lot more pleasant, although some big hills inexplicably sprang up in front of us. I got my ice-cream (eventually) in Lochcarron, and we greedily munched our Cornettos in the mizzle while the midges, in turn, greedily munched us.
Andy
I must just say one thing here – skimming stones is much more than “quite amusing” when you are 12 – it’s an art. One which should be practiced and honed at any given opportunity, and which Rich will never appreciate as, lets be honest, he throws like a girl.
Quite amusing that Rich also ended up wearing the bandana after he’d been taking the piss out of me all week for the Buff wearing. Still, it kept the salt out of his eyes which was most excellent.
Today has been hard graft - a LOT of hills on every stage, and in particular two or three nasty little climbs as we felt were were on the very last home stretch bit. Some glorious scenery though, as ever. Loch Carron I would wager is amazing in half decent conditions and the run down (some excellent new black top) into Glen Torridon really was beautiful. And we even had the sun out for a while there.
We prepared a “skyscraper of food” each on the tiny little hostel plates. You’d think they’d realise that people who come here have big appetites…
One thing I have noticed in this hostel is the prevelance of the wearing of socks with sandals and this is most distressing.
We bought some cornflakes: excellent. The omellete, bacon and beans routine will finally be broken!
We were pondering the fate of the “Old Lady” we met in Ullapool while we were cycling along in the shit weather today – how would she be coping in such adverse conditions? Rich reckons she’ll she’ll be on Orkney fuelled by a Finger of Fudge and a cherry
tomato.
The two Calverley guys are here – the did the Applecross circuit today on top of coming back from Skye and it half killed them. There’s cycling and enjoying it (which I reckon is what Rich and I have been doing) – knowing your limits and not doing stuff just because it’s there – and then there’s being plain stupid.
Rich
Agreed again. I don’t do this just to tell tall stories in the hostels in the evenings to try to impress total strangers. Jeez – get a life.
[And that was about it. Plans to go and do the Applecroft circuit by bike (or by car) were shelved as the weather was lousy and there wasn’t really much point withiout the views. So, we left a day early. Actually due to the shortened Outer Hebrides episode we were two days earlier than planned as our original intention was to drive back down on the Bank Holiday Monday. But it would be good to be back home with a day to spare and not having to go straight to work the next day etc. We had a bit of a lie in the next (Saturday) morning, eventually packed the car, said goodbye to the top warden chappie and set off on the long drive home. We did a pit stop in the Cairngorms at the ski place who’s name escapes me now as we were going that way and neither of had been there before. Looks a top town and we dined in a café above a climbing shop which did the most excellent food. We got talking to a couple of blokes, University lecturers, who were heading up to Assynt on a geology field trip, which was most pleasant.
It was here that we had our one and only technical of the trip – and it involved Rich’s car. It had been smelling of diesel a bit and when we returned to it in the climbing shop car park to find it sat in it’s own colourful pool of fuel. The leak was soon found - it was pissing diesel from a split rubber seal thingy. We fixed it using the glue from a puncture repair kit and sealed it good and proper with a zip tie. A truly marvellous bodge job.
Once diesel stench free we drove south, and we drove south some more. And some more until we reached England. Then some more south; east a bit and eventually arrived in Calverley on Saturday evening. Rich stopped over and he headed back to Reading on the Sunday.]
[A side story of note from the final day: On arrival at the hostel we encountered an example of the phenomenon that is the strange lone male cyclist. This particular one was called John and we initially met him just as we rolled down the valley towards the hostel. (We had seen him as he left Broadford that morning while we were faffing with the bikes in the shed.) Immediate conversation revealed that his 60+ miles that day was ‘disappointing’ for him as he usually averages about 90, or 100 preferably. This did look initially most implausable as this guy was riding an ancient Raleigh Randonneur tourer with trainers, jogging pants, no helmet and a seat adjusted to what looked to be exactly the wrong height for optimum pedalling power. The only thing that marked him out as an any way serious tourer was a pair of smart Ortlieb panniers. We noticed he was in our dorm that night too and it seemed only polite to offer him a seat with us while we were eating. Hmmm. He had a LOT of cycling tales to tell – tours in Africa and North West USA plus him owning a house in Africa somewhere and offering it up as accommodation for cycle tourists… etc etc. All very interesting, and to fair he seemed a nice bloke, but Christ he didn’t half go on. I think Rich at some point escaped to do the dishes and I ran away to the quiet room and read a book or something. By the time he found us again we’d been chatting to the Calverley lads for a while so we were able to bid our goodnights to them all just as John was starting his round of tales again!
We did our late start and caught up with John on the road as he’s headed for Inverness as well that day. Christ he’d really coverered a lot of miles by the time we saw him, and he’s probably still out there, cycling round somewhere – same as “Old lady”. There’s a lot of them out there folks so treat them with care should you pass them on the roads.]
TOUR STATS
430 odd miles in car each way (Calverley to Torridon); 315 of which is in Scotland.
294 recorded on bike computer (it cut out in heavy rain) + 25 (Harris) + 60 (last day)
Approx 375 miles cycled in total. Max single day: 93 miles.
Recorded average = 13.1 mph.
Recorded max speed = 42.3 mph (I think this was descending into Ullapool)
Touring satisfaction quotient: 100%
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