July 2016 Microadventure - Return to Brecon

Sometimes inspiration for a Microadventure can come from something as simple as someone simply asking you to join them.  Last months paddle on the canal in the Brecon Beacons was that simple.  Thanks Carl!
That trip really whetted my appetite to explore the Eastern Beacons further.
By the first week in July however the phone hadn't rung so I was looking for some inspiration for myself.  It started with simply looking at the Ordnance Survey map.  Initially looking to see what other camp sites there were to use as a base with safe parking and a tap.  I found a couple and idly looked them up on Google.  One, Llanthony Priory caught my eye thanks to its price (£3) and its apparently beautiful location right next to a ruined priory.
Funny how things slowly build.  I pulled out the map again and slowly opportunities started to present.  The Priory is in the Vale of Ewyas.  Offas Dyke long distance path runs along a ridge on the North East side of the valley and another good looking ridge parallels it to the South West.  In seconds two good days walking leapt out.  The site was also close to Waun Fach and Grwyne Fawr reservoir.  Both places I had a yearning to overnight at.
Having started with not much in mind I had swiftly found a weekends exploring to do with the opportunity to scout out places for the future.

Setting off on Friday morning the weekend forecast looked poor with the best of the weather likely to be that afternoon.  I made good time and decided to bring the days ridge walk I'd planned for Saturday to the Friday afternoon and evening.  The long, light summer evenings give that flexibility.
Climbing out of the Valley on to Offas Dyke gave a stunning view of the priory and campsite field.

The weather was fine and clear giving glorious views in to England.

Arriving at Hay Bluff in the early evening I was reminded that I was following the national border!

The walk out had been accompanied by a constant and strong wind that was bringing the weather front in.  Rather than stay exposed I opted to walk back from Gospel Pass (I love place names like this) down the valley.  Out of the wind and with the evening sun out I had a carefree couple of hours walk back to camp arriving just as the sun was setting for a late dinner.

Day 2 was a poor excuse for a July day with low cloud and squalls of rain.  My plan was to follow the ridge on the other side of the valley North West to check out the reservoir and high ground I wanted to visit later in the year.  However, coming out of the valley the wind got stronger and the rain got harder. Coming to the ridge I looked towards my intended route to see the high ground obscured by racing, claggy fog.  A soaking pair of walkers approached and gave their opinion - 'It will be horrible mate!'.  I was not going to see much of anything going that way so followed the ridge line South past a high Cairn and wind break towards Cwyn y Gaer an ancient hill fort marked on the map. With the weather still pretty grim I opted to drop down in to the Valley for my return trip.

Day 3 dawned with the weather brightening.  I took advantage of an early start to check out the priory ruins before anyone arrived.

I took my time packing to give everything a chance to dry out.  With a long drive home I took a quick detour to check out The Skirrid.  A lump of a hill standing alone which gave yet more glorious views.

So,  in the absence of any other inspiration an hour with a map and a willingness to be flexible and just have a nose about can deliver a cracking weekend.

Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible

Six months ago I wasn't sure when I would be writing another blog.

The year began with a plan to continue my monthly adventures and try and get a few mates involved where possible.  First week of the year I made a conscious effort to reserve a weekend a month and got some positive responses to a plan to get to the Keswick Mountain Festival (booked tickets), a trip to Brecon etc.

I was chuffed when the year started with a get together with some like minded people in the woods on the second weekend in January  Arrived with tarp and hammock and lots of good intent.  Pushing a tent peg in to the ground my hands slipped and I jarred my back badly.  It hurt.  Over the next couple of hours it started to hurt more.  Then it hurt so badly I made the tough decision to go home.  After a pretty sleepless night on the living room floor with no position relieving the pain I realised I had hurt my back quite badly.   The next couple of months are a bit of a blur of very strong pain killers, MRI scans showing a badly prolapsed disc, lengthy waits to see consultants and hardly being able to sleep let alone walk further than the local shops.

I have to confess to feeling a bit of a fraud.  A lot of online research highlighted how many people endure long term chronic pain.  When you see others much worse off than you there is a temptation to dismiss your own discomfort.  I did that, soldiered on like there wasn't any issue and set myself back a couple of times as a result.  Only after being in absolute agony after pushing myself too hard did I get to a point where I accepted that whilst not as bad as many I still had a serious injury, had to give it time to heal and live life accordingly.  In the early stages not knowing how long that would take was really frustrating.  However once I'd accepted I could take things easy and accept some ambiguity on when I would be fully fit things got easier.  Part of that involved accepting advice and support from others, including some very capable physios.

So, with time, proper professional support and a positive but sensible mindset late May saw me fit (and confident) enough to have the first, somewhat delayed, multi person adventure of the year.  Well, less of an  adventure and more of a really pleasant weekend away at the Keswick Mountain Festival.   This was great long weekend with the opportunity to try new activities, get some walking and have access to a site with lots of adventure travel and advice and music in the evening.  All set in a magnificent environment.

Build your own canoe with ORCA

Lakeside Art

The best festival backdrop in the UK

Castlerigg Stone Circle

'Moonlit' canoeing

Dust on the lens - makes a good pic though!

June has seen a two day Canoe trip exploring a bit of the Brecon and Monmouthshire canal.  Camping near Crickhowell we got to see some beautiful scenery and had a bit of a taste of what else the area had to offer.  I suspect Ill be updating on other adventures in the area soon!

Not the busiest waterway in the world

Civilised lunch

A bit of history

The year began with a degree of uncertainty.  Things are now back on track.  If I can reflect on anything from the last six months its that when things go wrong they will probably get better and sometimes you have to roll with the punches.  Also that there is always a risk that normal service will not be resumed soon or sometimes at all.  So make the most of now.

November night time canoe Microadventure

"You're not phoning up to cancel are you? Ive got things planned!"

These were my wifes words when Carl rang Friday night to discuss our planned weekend canoeing Microadventure down the Thames.  We'd been looking at the weather all week and it was looking more and more like heavy rain.  We had decided to have a final chat the night before to see if it was still worth going.  The beauty of committing to something and then telling people is that it makes it very difficult to pull out.  Especially when so many people are relying on you not being about in order to have a good time!

The weather forecast looked pretty grim for the day with heavy rain, clearing a little later and high winds the following day.  However that gave us a bit of a weather window and an opportunity to spice up a sedate trip down the river by doing a chunk of it at night.

 Our original plan was to canoe from Wallingford to Pangbourne during the day but we met later than originally planned at Goring in the hope that most of the rain would have passed.  It hadn't and loading up took place in that lovely November drizzle that gets down the back of your neck and slowly saps morale.

 Carl as a conscientious canoe owner had proper dry bags to store his kit, I was making do with my usual rucksack with kit in dry bags inside and a bin liner for insurance.  Emergency beer supplies and biscuits were kept ready to hand in a nice pink carrier bag just in case we were looking a bit too professional.

 Loading complete we set off.

In summer this stretch of the river, in the 'prosperous South East', is probably alive with Gin Palaces and pleasure boats.  In early November we had the river to ourselves.
As the rain slowly fell we could appreciate the river as its meant to be.
Clearly others had built with the same aim and we passed this cracking summer house.
 


I always reflect that when you take the route less travelled at a steadier pace you come across things, natural and man made that you just never really see from a car on the motorway.

 ...A railway bridge built by Brunel when functionality and design held equal weight...

 ...a vista of the Thames Valley that probably hasn't changed much in hundreds of years...

Having more time than we needed we decided to moor up for tea and biscuits just after four.  The grey day was bringing evening on quicker than we expected and by the time we set off again we were losing the light.

A leisurely river trip now started to feel a little edgier.  The River was black, the horizon only vaguely visible through the overhanging trees.  Running lights on the boat.  There was no sound save our paddles in the water and the occasionally river bird.  

At one point in the gloom I could see what looked like lumps of rock across the water.  As we got closer they turned out to be a flock of geese settled on the water for the night.

 It really did feel like the world had gone to sleep and there we were gently gliding through it in our canoe.

It was properly dark as we approached Pangbourne.  We passed under the road bridge quietly as people walked over.  None of them appeared to notice us which only increased the sense of other worldliness that was starting to creep in to my Psyche.
Negotiating the lock in the dark we moored up on the other side and brought ourselves back to reality with some excellent Fish and Chips eaten out of the drizzle under the balcony of a riverside building.



Our planned stop for the night was in the field of an activity centre.  Carl had a friend who worked there who had given us the nod to to pitch for the night.  This avoided the potential for ending up in someones back garden in the dark.
Knowing where you are going and finding it from a dark river are two different things.  The river was clearly flowing faster than we thought after the heavy rain of the previous couple of days and we nearly missed our landing point.  However after a quick back track we sorted out where we were pitching tents for the night and sorted ourselves out.

Having plenty oof time we resolved to try and get a fire going to dispel some of the cold and damp.  If I'm honest I had my doubts about being successful with everything being so wet.

However, Carl came up trumps.  We spent time making sure we had lots of tinder and kindling.  With only one match and some cotton wool Carl got things started.  Before long we had a blazing fire being kept stoked by the increasingly strong wind blowing off the river.

Sometimes having the basics is enough.  With a good fire, a beer and a dry place to sleep for the night I was so glad we had decided to brave the elements and get out.

 After a really windy night (thank heavens for ear plugs!) we slept in as we only had less than an hours paddling to our get out point.

Id brought some porridge and coffee for the morning.  However Carls friend had let slip that we were going to be there to the local Scout group.


They apparently were practicing for an out door cooking competition so Carl had agreed they could come and practice on us.

Having had our first breakfast we were joined just after nine by a gang (is that the collective noun?) of Scouts. 

In short order they built a fire, engaged in organised chaos, which a short time later resulted in breakfasts fit for kings!

By mid morning we were back on the river and at our get out point an hour later.
 
In less than 24 hours we had canoed a river, entered another world which is the river at night, made a fire against the odds and enjoyed the best of breakfasts,  Winter Microadventures can sometimes be short but never let the lack of daylight or time get in the way of having fun!

October 2015 Microadventure. Autumn, a season of mists.........

I find that my Microadventure plans evolve over time.  The date usually gets sorted in advance to fit in with work and family.  However what I'm actually going to do often emerges as much by chance as by design. My October Microadventure was a case in point.
I'm in the habit of picking up some sort of out doors type magazine now and again.  Often they are filled with tales of people climbing stupidly high mountains in remote places.  Nice to read but for a man with a fear of heights not always achievable!
A couple of months ago though I came across a Brecon Beacions walk in 'The Great Outdoors'.  It involved a sensible distance, some sensible(ish) terrain with nice views and an overnight by a Lake.  Sounded good.  I also went and bought the OS map for the area, as much to give some ideas for future adventures as for navigation on the walk.  Its funny how the time spent poring over a map starts to whet your appetite and cement a hitherto slightly ambiguous set of ambitions.  Something I'm not sure I get from checking things out on line.

My plan was to park in Glyntawe.  Walk West from the National Show caves for a few kilometers before turning North on to the long ridge running East - West on the Black Mountain.  Ridge walk for a bit before dropping off the ridge to Llyn Fawr lake where I'd camp before heading back in the morning.  Classic Microadventure stuff!

So, the last weekend of October arrived.  I'd taken Friday off with a view to having the hills a little quieter than a Saturday.  I don't think I need have worried!  Arriving at about mid day my plan continued to evolve. Rather than a walk through pretty featureless terrain I opted for a straight climb up to Fan Hir to give enough time to get to my planned overnight spot without having to route march!

From the bottom everything looked calm and inviting.













A stiff walk got me up on to the beginning of the ridge with pretty views already beginning to appear.  Both down to the valley I'd started.....

...and up the impressive Fan Hir ridge.










As I began the steady ascent to the main ridge it struck me how quickly you start to relax walking in the hills. Fresh air, a bit of exercise and the only mental pressure being checking the map you soon start to get a sense of perspective on life.
I also started to get a perspective on the weather.
The gentle fog I'd seen higher up the ridge soon began to close in accompanied by stronger winds than I was expecting.  The path also started to get much closer to the edge of the ridge.  One I knew had a fairly stiff drop.



I was looking for the path which drops off the ridge down to the lake.  However, visibility was getting poor, the ground was getting very slippery and my sense of adventure was starting to be overcome by my sense of self preservation.  I have no shame in stating that I lost my bottle and decided to turn back rather than risk an accident on my own even though I had left my planned route and alternatives with family!



So.  Staying flexible and allowing my adventure to take its natural course I changed plans and decided to head off the ridge and approach the lake from its base rather than its summit.

Time however was passing.  Sharing a cheery hello with a ridiculously young man in camouflage who clearly had no concerns about heading over a misty hill I reached the base of the ridge.  The time was now 1630 and I was not sure I was going to get to the lake in day light.  Yes, I could have cracked on but the whole point of my trips is to have fun rather than wear my self out and get lost!



I headed for the National Show Caves campsite where, for £7 I spent a very pleasant evening!

It rained hard during the night and, not for the first time that day I was glad I'd opted for a (pretty empty!) campsite.






The weather was still pretty grim but having turned back the previous day I felt I had unfinished business with a lake, (and no real urgency to be home).
Looking at the map I could see that there was a good looking three or four kilometer walk allowing access from a minor road to its East.

Being up in the hills again the weather had closed down to heavy rain and mist.  This meant walking on a bearing over marshy ground with no long view to check direction.  It struck me how easy it would be to get lost, even relatively close to roads and villages.  Again I was glad I'd invested in a paper map and left word.




A steady and increasingly wet walk had me doubting my direction at some points but then suddenly, after topping a small rise the dark waters of the lake emerged.  The photo doesn't really do it justice but it was incredibly atmospheric.  Coming upon it suddenly it looked like the lake in Lord of the Rings where the party enter Moria.  Thankfully no scary tentacled beasties appeared!

I used the opportunity to check out the surroundings for future visits.  Everywhere was several inches deep in water due to the heavy rain and the path down from the ridge looked precipitous and slippery.  I was really glad I'd changed my plans as a night in those conditions would not have been fun.

By now the rain was horizontal and visibility non existent.  I followed a back bearing for the car.  A river I'd crossed on stepping stones on the way up was now much deeper.  Wading it felt rather intrepid and I was soon back at the car and ready to head home satisfied.

I'm glad for all sorts of reasons that this microadventure evolved, both in the planning and the execution.  I found a region I want to visit again.  I found a secure place to use as a base.  I had the sense to recognise my (albeit self imposed) limitations and the confidence to develop alternative plans.  Sound like the basic principals for any adventure!

Kit list:
Worn;
Berghaus beanie
Gloves
Buffalo shirt (brilliant kit)
Lightweight walking trousers (dry quick)
Merinho wool socks and Alpkit merinho pants (try 'em.  Warm, dry quick and wearable multi day!)
Waterproof trousers (came in useful!)
Karrimor gaiters
Salomon boots

Carried;
Map, compass, whistle, penknife, head torch.  (All essential)
Berghaus 65l Rucksack
Terra Nova Zephyros 2 tent.  1.5Kg.  Light and fantastic protection from elements!
DD sleeping bag
Karrimor sleeping mat
Spare T shirt, microfleece, Ron Hill tracksuit bottoms, pants and socks
Tooth brush
Anti septic gel
MSR 750 ml cooking pot
Mug
Trangia triangle and burner (no weight at all and cooks like a, well, a Trangia!)
250ml fuel
2l Camelback
UCO candle lantern
Sawyer water filter
Spork
Spare batteries and mini charger
Phone and camera
Magazine to read!

Food;
Noodles, Dol mio sauce, home cooked sausages
Oatcakes and baby belles
Porridge and powdered milk and sugar ready mixed
coffee
Snickers bars, nuts and raisins

September Microadventure - The Mill at Grantchester

Hot on the heels (if you'll excuse the pun!) of my August Ridgeway walk the first weekend of September took me on another canoe Microadventure.

A day through Cambridge on the Cam and then a day on the Stour.






Having canoed through Cambridge with all the beauty of the City seen from the river...

...and the frustrations of maneuvering through punting congestion we ended up at Grantchester.


















Somewhere in the depths of my very un literary mind the place rang a bell so I looked up Rupert Brookes poem.  Somehow his words seemed to resonate......

'Grey heavens, the first bird’s drowsy calls,
The falling house that never falls'.












'Ah God! to see the branches stir
Across the moon at Grantchester!
To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten
Unforgettable, unforgotten
River-smell, and hear the breeze
Sobbing in the little trees.





Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand
Still guardians of that holy land?
The chestnuts shade, in reverend dream,
The yet unacademic stream?
Is dawn a secret shy and cold
Anadyomene, silver-gold?
And sunset still a golden sea

From Haslingfield to Madingley?









And after, ere the night is born,
Do hares come out about the corn?
Oh, is the water sweet and cool,
Gentle and brown, above the pool?






And laughs the immortal river still
Under the mill, under the mill?
Say, is there Beauty yet to find?
And Certainty? and Quiet kind?
Deep meadows yet, for to forget
The lies, and truths, and pain? . . . oh! yet








Stands the Church clock at ten to three?
And is there honey still for tea?'