Arisaig   Sunday   22 August

So far so good - kayak, spray deck, buoyancy - well done Dave, water
and paddle are on their way. Memorable day - sea otters, seals, knowing that there had been basking sharks in the area was good enough for us. The forecast was pretty bad - we in fact had fabulous weather.

Kelly Kettle Adventures
Open canoeing down the River Spey (in northern Scotland for those of you who don’t know your haggis geography ..) was a great chance for extended time with KK (Kelly kettle). And if you have not encountered one of these, it is a nifty water heater where you build a fire in the base and the water sits in the skin of the chimney.. hey presto, a few minutes later you have hot water ..and all your backcountry and Ray Mears desires met in one hot brew. Mike is not smoking it in this photo- just a helping mouth to get the fire going.


Our plan was to canoe in open boats from Aviemore to the mouth of the River Spey in the Moray Firth (just left of the north sea) – approx 60 miles in 4 days. Simon and Jude as one team and Mike and I as the other. Some of us (M&M) had anxieties we needed professional guides but Simon inspired us with enough confidence for us to believe we could do it under our own steam (and significantly cheaper). Only the lack of a boat stood in our way .. Brookbank Canoes hired us one – and a fine boat it was too We-no-ah Prospector – 16ft, 29Kg and great on moving water – for only £140 for the week. They kind of do as a demo to encourage you to buy – and it might just have worked!

So we packed up the boats with kit and camping gear – no real weight issues so for some reason lots of tins of chickpea curry as the main diet. We used barrels and dry bags – with more dry bags in side – water is tricky stuff and can find its way anywhere. Simon and Jude had amply demonstrated this,doing us all a favour on the Sunday when we had a day trip and they capsized. This meant we sorted out our rescue techniques. Simon did a grand job of recovering the boat from tree debris in the river. My years of rock climbing came in useful to belay Simon as he tackled the torrent and being a true Yorkshire man, went back in to dive for a fleece trapped under water – “well it is Patagonia” he was heard to say.

In the boat there are 2 seats - ladies go up front (we are lighter :) ) and as in life, take the full brunt of the waves and also provide the power. At the back the heavier guys do some steering with rudder paddle strokes … to be honest Jude and I were not quite certain what else given that neither of we could never see what they were up to! I recall Mike having a bit of a rant about wing mirrors at one point .....

The first two days were fairly gentle water – except on day 2 when it rained and was windy – canoeing in wind can be a challenge to say the least ... Mike was heard to say, “I’d swear we are going up hill” ....worrying for an environmental scientist.

Our accommodation was “wild” camping – first night in a builders yard with a field attached and permission for an open fire (Ray Mears unleashed - chopping and sawing with avengence we were). You are not allowed to camp on the banks as it is owned by the local lairds etc. and their clients pay up to £1200 a day to fish there hence they do not want campers messing up their manicured river banks. The other two nights were kind of public spaces – a village green with no village and a park – both with public toilets for facilities (even the builders yard had a hot tap!) – more public loos than George Michael became a trip phrase!
















En route we were treated to jumping fish – salmon a plenty – none landed in the boat. Lots of herons (presumably more successful at catching the fish than us) and a brief glimpse of an otter. The river is quite wide in places but there were a couple of days when the water got lively .. up to Grade 3 .. which if you don’t know, means white, foamy and wet - so the womenfolk got wetter from waves over the bow and the guys got to bail out at the back. Amazingly we did not capsize .. a few near misses and some nifty paddle work needed - there are not many times you get a guy urging you to “get your oar in” - (in this case it meant a stroke to give an instant change of direction) – thank goodness for the couple of days on a training course and much reading of the "Path of Paddle" in the YHA the night before we set off.

The route took us through Aberlour where genuine scottish shortbread is made – we smelt sugar cooking and down past numerous distilleries – whiffs of roasting barley. We had a great evening in the Highlander Inn at Craigellachie www.whiskyinn.com where after a fine dinner of Scottish food – salmon, lamb, haggis, we had a whiskey tasting. We were supplied with 6 shots of the finest Spey malts and a pen and paper. Pure nectar it was, honey flavours, warm notes so if you are looking for an good malt, let us know, we have recommendations! Auchroisk was a favourite all round – so mellow can’t even describe it. If you want a whiskey trip – this is THE place. Spey malts are much softer and rounder than the Islay / Skye ones.















A total high was arriving at the mouth of the river to see the waves rolling in – there were anxious moments as to at what point we would get out and thoughts of we had not quite anticipated going to Norway. Fortunately there was a shingle beach just before the sea proper and we were back on dry land. The Moray Firth is famous for whale and dolphin sightings and the WDPS – the Whale and Dolphin Preservation Society HQ has a fine café and we sat outside eating cakes as the sun also shone making it just a special end.














It was an awesome trip– can’t recommend both the Spey and open canoeing enough! Everything I love – journeying, fire making, great company, whiskey, wilderness – we had it all and more. Thanks team!

Manchester 100
Another 'first' ticked off for Jo, as Liz and Glynis made it not only to Wythenshawe Park but then a whole 100+ miles round Cheshire. Timing went out the window when we discovered that it was such a beautiful day and asked ourselves 'why hurry?'. The day was then declared Liz and Jo's Hen Party and got even better. It was probably a little remiss of me in terms of hen party protocol - no sashes in sight (guess the Bike Right tops sufficed), only carbo drinks at the bar and I didn't get off with either of the brides to be (not for the want of trying). No one was sick although judging from the one picture I have two of us don't look great.   There can't be many folk two weeks away from a wedding that spend a precious Sunday in this fashion.
Partnership of the Century.

Lynn gets the award for most fashionable goggles.......following on from trend setter and Mallorcan comedienne Martine.

From goal setting to training, from carbo loading to air in the tyres here we have it ................the best in the North West.....

and the winner was Liz with 1:10:41 followed by Jo with 1:11:12, then Karen with 1:13:27 and Lynn with 1:17:34.

Fantastic effort on probably the hottest day of 2010. Jo did a sterling ride coming only 18 secs after limitless Liz. Liz worried that Jo had beaten her on the ride then ran her socks off beating Jo by a whole 2 minutes!!!

Spot the difference...

....what happened to J and S and Milo?......and their map!!!!

Here we have the kit commissar and I don't think Paula is taking this very seriously.

Group cycling has improved as has the level of photography.

Here's Jude making out with some of the new comers......

a place at the table for absent friends....

and the rest of us making do with old timers ...happy birthday Michael....same cakes, same time same place next year?

we went to mallorca and had a cracking time ...

The Harvey Nichols of Padiham mixes it with Saga backpacking world......... so much to learn and so little time to learn it in.......31 days left! Camping wild at Angle tarn - memorable because the platypus froze overnight....Sue forgot her mug and matches...we cursed our much loved Trangia for its inefficiencies....it was so cold the tent was dry and the sun shone.

4 women, 2 men, 67 miles, 4300 ft of climbing, lots of bananas, jelly babies, rocky roads, pies, pasties and not enough money to buy a photo to prove it.

Big achievement for D and G was riding up the Killer Mile....D with style and G in the saddle.

Early preparation for Mallorca.........hard days cycling followed by relaxing in the pool (wishful thinking) and whiskey solo and tapas....oh and a few friends to share it.

Winter Hill Fell Race 14th Feb 2010
A couple of weeks ago we bumped into our neighbour Tony who lives 2 houses down. After a brief chat and him stating this was the last year he would be organising the race, his parting words were "I'll look forward to receiving your entry then". That sealed my fate.
The day dawned bright, still and cold and a short drive down to Rivington Hall top barn for registration ensured I had plenty of time to drink hot tea in the truck whilst I watched fellow competitors swigging brightly coloured sickly sports drinks. It washed my breakfast porridge down a treat and I was now all set.

Up to the start line where we all congregated, the atmosphere was abuzz. Tony brought us all back in line and stated "to be careful as its abit slippy in places out there". He then shouted out 5 or 6 race numbers at random to do kit checks and guess whose number was called - yes, yours truly! Just as well I had the full kit requirements in the bum bag(waterproof jacket, trousers, hat, gloves, compass, whistle, food).

The conditions were fantastic for fell running and off we all went up through Rivington over to the shooting huts, up and down Winter Hill 3 times and then back over from Georges lane through Rivi and back to the barn.


Thankfully I had great team support with Martine giving me much needed encouragement and drink on top of Winter Hill. For much of the race I ran with a guy called Albert who had his Horwich Harriers vest on, and I figured he would know his way round. He did, and I hung on as best as I could which was scary especially on the downhills as he was quick!

Now the stats:

11 miles
2700 feet ascent
62nd out of 196
Time 1hour 58 minutes 33 seconds

A grand day out involving a lot of sweating and heavy breathing - after all, it was Valentines day.

New Years Day ... Kentmere ... 4 and a dog went off to start the new year expecting snow covered hills and blue sky's ... it started like that but as Milo the dog's mood degenerated so did the weather .. and nav skills were put to the test in the ensuing white out (did no one get a GPS for Christmas?..). Sinking in to knee deep snow with a friable crust (technical term), Christmas chocs and stollen raised moral. The end the cold ordeal made Milo's tail wag once more. Finished the day with head torch lit walk back to Kentmere. Martine (Mike, Jude, Simon, ... Milo)

Milo against the snow


















The ghost of Simon!

RIDING IN THE RAIN! what excuse have we got for not riding in the rain? Learn from our dutch friends ....

The OMM - after a week+ of planning, lists, packing (6.5kg sacks), repacking and repacking again - - (mike took 3 hats after all that!) we were off to the OMM or the Original Mountain Marathon - this year the Elan Valley (where?) - Wales, somewhere north of Builth Wells with reservoirs. After last years disaster the organisers were taking no chances and had hired the Welsh Show Ground as race H&Q plus satellite phones - and with 3000 people to marshall .........

We went soft on the Friday night and had b&b in Builth - set us up for the day with porridge and full English .. the fish and chips the night before were pretty darn good too. We were in for the short score - 5 hrs / 4 hrs to collect as many points as you can from a selection of check points - challenging with lots of variables to consider - route, time vs. progress (penalty for lateness is 2 points a min). We finished with 15 mins spare both days.

The area is not particularly mountainous (more like our beloved West Pennine Moors) but it is almost entirely covered in rough tussocks (larger than your english tussock) many of which appear to be floating in water. Where there are no tussocks it’s either bracken, bog or crag and just to add to the excitement, there are few tracks or footpaths. If we fell over once it must have been a dozen times and more. I lost count of the times I made facial contact with a tussock, bending a finger or two back in the process. Mike's time at a rugby school was useful when he let go at of the map in high winds. I was downwind contemplating decapitation (this is a large laminated map with sharp edges) and he spectacularly launched himself thru the air to pin the map down. I followed that by a knee deep plunge in to a bog with the splash effect of a facial rinse in peaty water ....... lovely.

There were no real features to navigate by - we kind of just set the compass and ran/marched/fell over. It worked all but one time and in the end with nothing to relocate ourselves with, we passed on that check point. Don't we love re-entrants! .. the fact that the clag was not down is probably the reason we are not still out there. More nav practice i needed ..... On the Sat afternoon the autumn sun came out and the times I raised my head from the map and the tussocks, saw a beautiful wild landscape with autumn trees turning colour - only for it to turn cold and wet as we headed in to camp.

We ended day 1 with 14 hours ahead in a small tent in some high winds - tucking in to succession of treats .. could organic (yes, organic) tom & basil soup ever taste better? then on to habas frittas (salted broad beans), bean & veg curry, veg tikka, custard & apple, a chocolate treat, cups of tea .. no wonder our sacs were heavy! The evening was punctuated with some loud bangs .. there goes another balloon bed exploding ..we were not bitter ... just jealous given the paultry size of our sleeping mats - about 24sq inch. Sunday was dry and after a long night in the tent we emerged from yummy ready break to almost miss our day 2 start ... dozy or what!. We forgot is was a 10 min walk to the start .. doh! We had the wind behind us and the tussocks not too deep & had a good day if you don't count the re-entrant episode ("a narrow valley closed at one end, separating two spurs" seemingly).

Finished in one piece .. I tired a downhill belly slide to draw to a halt a couple of cm short of a rock - fine but winded .. and over the finish line. We came 68 out of about 187 starting teams (we think we covered about 35km over the 2 days) .. with a score of 245 (which gives us a silver certificate amazingly). The winning team had 570 points. We looked out their route on the OMM website - routegadget - clever tool that lets you map your route- how did they do that? . Wings on their fell shoes? ... balloons? .....

This is truly a wild area with large parts of desolate moorland with very few features. I don't think it makes for a fantastic walking area (take a look at this site - he does a backpack in the area) but would definitely recommend it if you require solitude - we have the maps for loan.... That said, it would be a nice area to re-visit on a cycle tour (National Cycle Route 8 passes through).

National FRA Relays: Oct 18th Ennerdale

A long drive round to Ennerdale on Saturday but in the glorious sunshine warming the autumn leaves. Time for a route recce which was well worth it, especially as my leg changed late last night. I'd even worked out the bearings for leg 2 but was now on leg 4 - it was shorter and I was running alone, last. 

Interesting evening at a lovely inn but without cook, cleaner or receptionist.  So it was DIY! the plus was I paid myself for cleaning the bathroom.

The next day (after the cold shower) the clag was down and got further down throughout the day and the drizzle turned to rain.  I stood around cheering people in and out and trying to keep warm and fed.  

Fell running is very friendly and inclusive.  I watched Alistair Brownlee leg it down the last fell and come panting beside me.  What other sport could I  be competing alongside the elite. He just won the world Tri championships. I was doing the same leg as him but needless to say he was back before I set off (most people were).  

Thank goodness for the recce. The clag was right down. I trotted up the first fell and managed to overtake 4 women.  One man overtook me.  Got to the first checkpoint then darted off across the rough and down under a summit along a trod, others were going over.  I could hear a bloke behind me all the way along and up to the next summit checkpoint.  Turned round then down the first gill.  I slipped on the wet grass and banged right down til my teeth rattled.  I let the guy overtake and decided not to follow him towards the waterfall. I went through the trees which was full of dead wood.  At one point I climbed over a large fallen trunk but fell right through it. I decided to get back in the clearing and luckily found the trod and took a steep descent to the track.  (another man behind me tried this and was later airlifted to hospital). 

I then enjoyed a stretch out along a forest track to the base of the last summit - crazily steep and by now a mud slide.  Hands on knees I kept going to the top, ran along to final check and did a good descent down that last hill to the showground.  A sprint in to finish and all my clubmates were still there to cheer - which was great.  I then watched several people who had been infront of me arrive in, even the first guy to pass me!  I then heard that Alistair Brownlee and the first 2 winners didnt even get checkpoint 1 - not only did i do the same course as them, I beat them! (technically).

My day ended with a chat to Joss Naylor.  Lovely.  I'd just finished reading his biography.  Like many fell runners, he is my inspiration. He's 73 and a few months ago marked his 50 years of fell running with a quick dash over 20 fells.  He set a record in 1975 with 72 peaks in 23 hours 11 mins.  But at aged 70 did 70 peaks in under 21 hours. Of course he is the greatest runner that ever lived. And there he was in his wellies turning up for the relays. And not many folk know him outside of Cumbria and fell running.  Last week at the BG dinner, Richard Askwith was there, having his book, Feet in the Clouds, made into a film so that might sell the magic, if it makes it out of Kendal Mountain Film Festival.

Fabulous, 

fit, 

fun, 

fifty 

and 

fell-runnin

sunshine & birthday wishes..

what a puff..or are those cheeks full of cake
a party complete with toy trainset
bubbles on the move

Happy 50th Birthday Martine...xxxx

Yorkshire ... hills and dales .. a clear, warm day with views to the Howgills and beyond. We clocked in at the cafe .. "will you be round quick?" they asked, "hopefully" we replied, "well we shut at 5:30, if you're late knock on the door..."

We were back in ample time for a pint pot of tea and crumpets plus membership of the "3 peaks of Yorkshire" club (exclusively for those sub 12 hrs - gents can sport a rather natty tie with the emblem... perhaps not)

• 3 peaks
• 6 hrs
• 23 miles
• 1608m/5200ft ascent
• 2500/3800 -hers/his
• 2 snickers bars; flapjacks; pbut sandwiches; 2 bananas ... and the rest

We did take photos of the start and all the 3 peaks but they get progressively less flattering. Here is one of us early on at Pen-y-gent early on with an alien in blue. Suffice to say were were totally bushed at the finish (and for the next 2 days!)

You can take the girl out of Yorkshire ..... but is the defection complete when you put her in LRC gear ?????

SEEING CORNWALL ON A FOLDING BIKE

26th June 2009

Pure leisure, plenty of pleasure on two 15-mile round trips. Resting the bikes against Philps pasty shop in Hayle (reputedly one of the best), passing children shout “Look at those bikes!”

The bikes are decent – Dahon and Dawes – so climbing long hills the back way from Hayle to St Ives is no problem. Negotiating the descent to the harbour is equally steady. The receptionist at the Tate Gallery won’t let us bring them in until we point out that they’re folders – she points us to the self-service cloakroom and we stow them next to a couple of wheelchairs.

Before that we’d sat in a harbour-side restaurant, our bikes leaning up on the pavement next to our table while we slurped mussels and mackerel.

Another day, another short trip, this time following off-road track and lanes on national cycle network route 3 from Hayle through St Erth to Marazion (my first view ever of St Michael’s Mount) and over to fog-shrouded Penzance.

This was the day of the pasty, and later a cream tea, with cream so deliciously clotted it was well on its way to becoming butter. The bikes sat in the café garden with us and – confessions now – got folded up later on as we sleepily bummed a lift off a friend. Whether it was the cream, the jam, the carbs or the sun, something set us off yawning and succumbing to the pleasure-combined-with-leisure aspect of our trip.

So unlike our other cycling experiences. No helmets, constant sunshine, seaside shorts and trainers, rolling gently between hedgerows, walking the bike up steep cobbled streets. The only problem was taking a topple over the handlebars in soft sand on a road behind the dunes. But we have to have some stories to tell.