Tuesday 20 December 2022

Camping in the Bleak Midwinter

I failed again to go camping in November.  But I had an excuse, or in fact a Reason.  I had fallen off my bike and cracked a rib, all my own fault, which made wriggling in and out of sleeping bags deeply undesirable.  Shame, because there were some gorgeous clear nights with a sky full of stars.
Tea cooking itself in the bag
Then came December's icy blast.  I would have been up for camping, but not cycling, especially on the sort of quiet tracks and lanes you need to find wild camping spots.  Eventually, a mini heatwave took temperatures up to unlikely double-digit highs and double-digit night-time lows, and I could not resist, despite the forecast rain.

I had some ideas of places around Esher-Oxshott-Claygate-Ashtead, so I packed for a one night stay and went exploring, in intermittent rain.  The ice had mainly been replaced by mud, so I slithered around near Esher Common, and then headed over to a good looking (on the map, anyway) hill near Claygate.  It was great until I came to a locked farm gate on the way.  Tried an alternative cow path: very churned up - I only succeeded in covering my tyres, mudguards, brake blocks and chain with sticky mud.

Warning:  distressing bike photos.  (This was after I'd "cleaned" the bike with a stick).

Mud
More mud
An alternative "straight up" walking route got me huffing and puffing to the summit with my muddy bike & full set of luggage.  It was very windy and exposed, and worse, there were cows in the field, or maybe bulls.  So it was a no go.

By now it was half an hour from sunset (3.52 today), so I decided to go back to a place I'd spotted earlier, when it was too early to set up camp.  Decided against pitching my tarp under the massive bough of an oak tree, in case it fell, and found a nice secluded spot nearby.  I put up the tarp and made tea, a dehydrated camping meal of Spicy Pork Noodles, very nice considering.  Washed it down with a mug of tea, lovely.  It was now just after 5pm, and it was dark.  There were a few heavy showers on and off, but I was warm and dry under the tarp.  I had forgotten to pack the TV, so it was time for bed.   Sunrise was at 8am so I looked forward to a long night's rest, with 16 hours of darkness.

My room for the night.
(camouflage bivi bag rather spoilt by the high-vis panniers)
Squally showers and strong wind continued through the long night, roaring through the trees and flapping the tarp, so it wasn't a quiet night.   The wind seemed to find its way under the tarp, and I couldn't get warm until I put on every item of warm clothing I'd bought: merino and fleece top and bottom and a down jacket on top.   Finally at about 3.30am I slept soundly and didn't wake till 7.30, when the dog walkers were already out.   Luckily they were mostly glued to their phones and I'm not sure I was spotted while I brewed tea, packed up and tried to dry the tarp.  It was now calm and sunny and still around 10 degrees.   Away by 9 am, just missing the rush hour for the short run back home and the long bike cleaning.

Thursday 1 December 2022

Sue Bellamy's journey through diagnosis, treatment and recovery from breast cancer

When Sue decided recently to leave a gift to the Royal Marsden in her will they invited her to write an article to describe her journey through diagnosis, her successful treatment, and the life she lives now.

See her story here

~ Tim

 

Thursday 24 November 2022

Paul and Ken Days CTC tour to Nepal and Tibet Autumn 2006

I did quite a bit of cycle touring in my younger years but always self-organised, and typically no more than four in the group, as ‘the buy a ticket and a map, follow the wind and find places to sleep day by day style’, suits a small number. My enthusiasm for cycle touring was rekindled when Paul expressed an interest in touring, and we started with a week in Ireland. From there we toured in France, Belgium, Germany and then found the empty roads and lack of commercialisation of Eastern Europe delightful. We were ready for a challenge when Paul and I went to a CTC birthday rides weekend at Bala and saw a slideshow of a CTC tour to the Himalayas and were impressed. So, we decided that we would join the CTC tour to Nepal and Tibet despite my concern over being organised.


I have summarised my recollections of the tour, which was memorable, and challenging, and unforgettable. I think Paul’s videos sum up the holiday more than words.
We flew to Kathmandu and stayed a few days whilst paperwork and visas were organised. Kathmandu was a fun place for a short stay, full of ancient buildings, places to eat, people of all nationality, monkeys, buddhas, motorbikes, tuk tuks and shops all selling North Pole walking and climbing gear, haggling compulsory. Paul and I rode through Kathmandu on our return leg and despite the honking and manoeuvring and lack of lane discipline we felt much safer than riding in London, as speed was low, and people were not hostile. Goats on top of buses? Ladders on motorbikes? We saw it all.

From Kathmandu we flew to Lhasa with a flight path over Everest giving us incredible mountain views. It was Paul’s birthday, and he was given the best seat for views.
Lhasa is 3656 m above sea level and the strange sensation of weakness was an indication of what was to come. We spent 3 days at Lhasa to acclimatize before cycling. Some members of our party suffered for a few days, but all recovered in time to start the cycling 
Lhasa, the capital of the Tibet Autonomous Region, lies on the Lhasa River's north bank in a valley of the Himalayas. Rising atop Red Mountain at an altitude of 3,700m, the red-and-white Potala Palace once served as the winter home of the Dalai Lama. The palace’s rooms, numbering around 1,000, include the Dalai Lama’s living quarters, as well as murals, chapels and tombs. The amount of gold plating is obscene – the 5th Dalai Lama stupa is coated with 3700 kg of gold alone. We were told that the Chinese general, who occupied the Potala when China annexed Tibet, used his personal army to defend the palace against looters. His objective was personal gain, but the Potala was not ransacked and is now a tourist gem.
Once on the bikes we realised that we would find the quite modest daily distances a challenge. I cannot remember the actual route, but we cycled across Tibet to Mount Everest Base Camp on the northern side and returned to Kathmandu down the claimed world’s longest downhill.

The scenery was stunning and every day the blue sky overhead contrasted the arid brown Tibetan plateau, surrounded by the snow-capped mountains .
We visited several monasteries and began to get used to the smell of Yak butter candles and the chanting of the monks and the clatter of the prayer wheels. The local Tibetans were so devout that I hope that it gave them strength to survive in such an austere and challenging country and climate, and the monks used the money donated wisely.

Our group was supported by a Nepalese and Tibetan team who drove the support vehicles, pitched our tents and cooked for us. We stayed in some hotels but mostly camped in the remote areas. The support team were fantastic and produced amazing cuisine as everything was prepared from local produce - vegetables, eggs, rice, flour – meat infrequently. All of our campsites were selected to be near a stream to provide water for washing – not drinking. 
Once the sun went down the temperature just plummeted, so we had a mess tent for communal evening and breakfast sessions. The group contained some real characters, so the banter was great fun. Tiger beer was always available from the crew.
When we camped, we were often near a village, so we were invaded by the village kids. We had to keep our eyes on them as they would nick anything. The support crew always did enough food for them as they were all skinny. The kids were dirty by our standards but most of the villages did not have running water.

The support vehicles were battered Toyota land cruisers and a Chinese lorry which had a canvas top and huge wheels. The nights were very cold and in the mornings the crew lit a fire under the oil sump of the lorry to get the oil fluid enough to get it started.
The initial riding was on freshly tarmacked roads as the Chinese were improving the Tibetan road network to encourage tourism, but after a few days we were on dirt roads. 
The route was planned to slowly increase the altitude by climbing and then dropping a little way, if possible, to get a reasonable night’s sleep. As we increased our elevation towards 5000 metres, I found my sleeping was intermittent as shortage of oxygen caused me to breath fast and wake up.

Climbing was hard and each dirt road hairpin was a hill climb in its own right but the scenery was exquisite. Punctures were frequent in the group as the roads were flinty. Paul and I had been advised by SJS cycles to fit Specialised Armadillos and we were puncture free.
The final approach to the Everest Base Camp was very demanding as the unmade surface was badly rippled by water runoff. The basecamp camp site was grotty, and the night-time temperature dipped below -10C and water bottles froze. However, in the morning we had a perfect view of Everest, an unforgettable sight.

The tour itinerary allowed 2 nights at Everest base camp, but we all voted to move on. The guides suggested using an alternative route using a dirt track which bypassed several sections of the major access route. The track followed a valley and passed through several remote villages with spectacular scenery in every direction. The route forded a river and Paul was offered the dry way across - on horseback with his bike on his shoulder - for which I had to pay. I got wet feet and did not even get a picture. The support vehicles had to take an alternative route as the track was too rocky, but the Chinese lorry with its huge wheels just rolled on surrounded by a cloud of dust.

Our last night in Tibet was at a town called Nyalam. We finished that day’s ride in blizzard conditions and shared our campsite with Yaks who kept licking the snow off the tents. We started the day in full winter cycling gear and finished the day in shorts and t-shirts.
The next day we dropped 8500 feet through the barren snowy mountains and the surrounding scenery turned slowly to lush vegetation. Our water bottles were squashed with the pressure difference as we descended. That night we camped in a tented hotel – not quite meeting the promise of luxury and hot water - but so warm we left the tent door open.

Our route took us through picturesque Nepalese villages back to Kathmandu. The riding was easy as the muscles suddenly began to work again at the low altitude.
A tour to remember and a tour taken at the right time as development will have changed Tibet.


Sunday 9 October 2022

Return to Marlborough

From Malmesbury there were hills.  I was on top of one most of the way to Wootton Bassett, or Royal Wootton Bassett,  as I  corrected by a local cyclist (who also felt it necessary to brief me on all the hills between RWB and Marlborough).
 

It was time to have a proper lunch, instead of all the café meals or meal deals, so I stopped at The Cross Keys for a proper Sunday lunch before tackling the aforementioned hills.

 
Royal Wootton Bassett 
For John

The final fifteen miles from Royal Wootton Bassett can be summed up as hills. Three ridges to be climbed, fairly steep up, and gentle, long and lovely on the way down. I think much of it was the route we rode to the Cheam & Morden Easter Tour in 2017, but in reverse. In sunny, cool weather with a brisk headwind, it was invigorating and enjoyable.
 
Climbing over the Ridge Way,
with white horse

Sweeping back into sunny Marlborough was most unlike my last frozen visit in January.  I had completed the loop after ten months.  I've very much enjoyed cycling in Wiltshire.  A combination of the open rolling hills and great views in the east, sand smaller scale, intimate valleys and woods to the west.  Plenty of beautiful towns, and masses of grand manor houses and stately homes.  And hippos.  Add a bit of seaside, and it would be nearly perfect!
 
Marlborough: lovely place,
huge market place spoiled by a car park

But that's the beauty of cycling in different areas.  Every part has different geography and so the terrain, the roads, the hills, the towns and the views are different from cycling near home.  Every county seems to have its own cycle routes, so it's easy to plan a route.

Home from Marlborough involved a ride to Hungerford to get a train.  Not the A4 this time (which was perfectly OK last time, but a planned route on small roads to the north of the canal, much quieter and scenic.  It may have been the predecessor to the A4.

At Reading, I discovered that there were no trains from Ascot, only buses.  I didn't  fancy a ride from Ascot, so I caught the Elizabeth line to Ealing Broadway,  which worked out fine.

Home by 7pm: nearly 200 miles and 3,000 metres of climbing on the clock; 7% left in the Garmin, 17% in the phone  and 3% in the legs.  Roll on next time.

The Cotswolds

Devizes

I got to my chosen camping spot by the locks about 30 mins before sunset.  Too early.  It was still busy with dog walkers.  I sat on a bench, looking innocent, to eat my tea, a Chicken Tikka Slice, with a giveaway apple for pudding.  Several houses have "help yourself" boxes of apples outside at this time of year.
Catching a Pike
 

My chosen spot was under an oak tree by one of the lakes that feeds water to the staircase of locks.  But I realised it was visible from a walk from a car park to the top of the locks, so found a more secluded spot further down.

Another cold night, but not uncomfortable this time.  No tarp, as no rain was forecast, but a full moon made it difficult to get to sleep, despite the fact that it was gone 8pm.
 
Camping spot before dawn

I woke at 6.15 and decided to get up although it was still dark.  Got under way in the first light of dawn, misty locks looking coldly beautiful, as I regretted not bringing full finger gloves.  4 degrees according to Garmin.


The pretty town of Melksham was my first stop, except  I didn't  stop, as it was closed and I was too cold.  Leaving along Forest Road, after a few miles I turned onto Forest Lane for another few miles.  I never got to see the forest.    [Edit:  I discovered later that there is a village called Forest.  Also a place called Tiddleywink very near my route a bit further on!] I was on a vast plain dotted with a few lumpy hills, easy cycling.  Lacock came up next, beautiful and dominated by Lacock Abbey (National Trust).
Lacock Abbey

Now I crossed the A4, going north, and entered the Cotswolds AONB.   Breakfast at 8.30, at The White Horse at Biddlestone, well, outside, as it was closed, so I ate my meal deal from last night: a sort of yoghurty, oaty, chocolatey thing, followed by a ham sandwich. Saw a few cyclists going through on their Sunday rides.
 
Breakfast at Biddlestone 



A few more flattish miles northwards, including a stretch on the Fosse Way, a few more stately home type places, and it was time for elevenses at Malmesbury,  a bigger town with an Abbey, plenty of shops, and hills.  It was nearly ten o'clock; would anywhere be open?  In the market square I saw hordes of cyclists, and I knew I'd come to the right place.
More wildlife



Elevenses

To be continued...

Saturday 8 October 2022

I Rode the Rode Road (and the Rode Road Won)

After my amazing start to the day, the rest of the morning was a bit of a let-down.  Just lovely countryside, quiet roads, a few hills, a castle or two.  Not a single ride through an epic country estate.  
 
The Rode Road

I stopped for elevenses at Westbury, and headed north, where I rode the Rode road (to Rode), met a few cyclists, and a nervous horse whose rider asked me to say "Hi Trojan".  Funny name for a woman, I thought.
 
What is this?


Farleigh Hungerford Castle

I was planning on lunch at Bradford on Avon, but got side-tracked by a nice pub just before.  This demoted Bradford on Avon to simply a tourist stop, which it excels at.  It's on the Avon, and to the south is flat, but to the north is a near-cliff where a lot of the town is built.  I mainly explored the south side.  A very picturesque place and well worth a longer visit, perhaps on foot.



From there, ten miles of Kennet & Avon canal towpath led to Devizes for tea, well, refreshments and tea shopping.  What can I say about the towpath?  It's nice.  Fairly flat, at first.  Decent surface although not tarmac.  Good views. Sunny.  A few boats moving about, and lots moored.  And I saw a kingfisher.

Near Devizes, there's a hill, Caen Hill, hence a staircase of 25 locks, going up to Devizes.  I'm going to try to camp near there tonight.
Caen Hill locks


From a field near Gillingham . to an autumn safari..

I arrived to an audience of very suspicious cows in the next field.  The rain shower had passed quickly to a nice evening with gentle winds.   It's due to be cold tonight - 6°C, so I have a three season sleeping bag and two sleeping mats, one for warmth and one for comfort, plus bivi bag and tarp in case it rains.  And some warm clothes, just in case.


I had a leisurely evening meal, after pitching the tarp to avoid cowpats (I hope).  Cornish Pasty and Dorset Apple Cake from the café in Broad Chalke.  It was delicious.   There were midges about but they weren't biting - maybe too late in the season.  A bit later on a bat or two were flitting over the tarp, feasting on the midges.  Lights out by 7.30 pm.

It was a long, cold night.  I put on every bit of watm clothing, and that kept nearly merely cool until about 6.15, when dawn was stealing over the landscape and the cows came over to say good moo-rning, a noisy form of alarm clock.  The tarp was dripping with dew but I was dry underneath: a success.  I took a long time wiping the tarp dry, and by the end I had freezing hands.



Then followed a magical fifteen miles of cycling, on NCN25.  The mist was lying in the valleys, with scarlet and gold trees emerging in the morning sun.  After visiting Zeals (famous from its road sign on the A303), I climbed a valley to Stourton, an estate or possibly a National Trust village with extensive gardens.  Worth a visit, I would say.  NCN25 ignores the signs saying Only Estate Vehicles, and draws up in state outside the Palladian mansion.  There were also two cafes, in case you were wondering.
Stourton






Up along the top of the ridge for quite a way, enjoying the views, before turning into Longleat.  More signs; Ticket Holders Only Past This Gate (more like a triumphal arch), which NCN25 also ignores, taking you right to the house itself, which may or may not be Palladian, but was all done up for Halloween and Christmas visitors.

View

Longleat


Past the house, a sign said " Danger: Wild Animals". I sniggered, thinking perhaps there were some wild sheep or horses. Then I saw the hippos. Through another No Entry sign (you have to be either confident, or desperate) and I went past the Safari Park, with a distant view of a herd of giraffe. ?giraffes?

Hippos


Thousands of spiders' webs

Giraffes

The best thing: since I planned thevroute in January, and was riding it in reverse, I had no idea that there treats were in store for me.  Brilliant.

Friday 7 October 2022

Wiltshire reboot

Leaving home at 5.30 to catch the first train heightens the adventure.  Sharing the road with a few buses, foxes and the odd car, you make fast progress through a series of green traffic lights and empty junctions.  Already at 6am, a dozen or more commuters were at Surbiton on their way to the daily grind.  My daily grind would involve the rolling hills of Wiltshire, as I headed south from Andover and west to Salisbury and then towards Gillingham.

My first, memorable,  wild camping trip was to Wiltshire, in January.  I abandoned it after one day and night, principally due to very icy roads and short daylight hours.  It's time to return.

Originally planned for the end of September, but postponed by workmen causing a gas leak in our house, it had to be delayed to early October.  The original plan to continue where I left off at Marlborough isn't possible because of train strikes, so I'm doing it in the reverse direction,  starting at Andover again, as I did on that freezing January day when temperatures rarely got above freezing all day.

Quickly out of Andover into the lanes, threaded between the vast skies and the vast fields, with an occasional patch of woodland for variety.  It was lovely cycling with almost no traffic, through pretty villages.  Every hill had a wonderful view.  I arrived at Salisbury just in time for elevenses, after just over thirty miles.
Monxton

Nether Wallop

View

Autumn colours

Old Sarum Castle, outer fortifications 



Inner fortifications 
The afternoon was more straightforward. I joined the valley of the river Chalke, and followed a gradually rising road for maybe 12 miles, stopping at a community cafe in one of the villages, Broad Chalke, for lunch. At the head of the valley neay Shaftesbury, the landscape became decidedly lumpy - the Blackfown Hills? - and a tea stop was necessary to refuel. It was warmer but not so sunny, so there are fewer pictures.

There seem to be plenty of large estates and manor houses round here, so there is a bit of money around.  After tea and a few more hills, I was in Blackmore Vale, flatter farming country.   I started looking for a camping spot, but all the fields seemed to be very well secured.  Eventually I found a dead end road, just into Dorset near Gillingham, with several good options.  It was too early to camp (needs to be nearly dark for wild camping), so I went to Gillingham in search of refreshment, in a brief and heavy rain shower.

A successful first day.