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Ice Cold in Peebles

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Tue, 06 Apr 2010 11:44:00 +0000

The video clip in the previous post was rather closer to the truth than I had anticipated. After a magnificent Friday evening in Moffat we met Mike Knipe and his mate, Tony Bennett, on Saturday morning and trundled over to Peebles in the Knipemobile for the trek back. This was to be a high level walk planned by Mike as a two and a half day daunder over magnificent walking country.

The planned route - click for enlarged views

On arrival at Peebles we were met by Humphrey Weightman who provided us with some of his special turkish coffee whilst we acclimatised in the Bridge Inn - and then it was time for a quick butty and on to the hill.

Progress was fine along the old drovers' road, then we were in a bit of snow - nothing much though. We met a couple coming down. "Lots of snow up there lads" said the man. He and his wife were wearing ordinary shoes, so I guessed that his idea of "lots" might be different from ours.

Wrong. Alan was the first to plunge through the snow up to his knees, and shortly we were all ploughing through it, occasionally diverting onto stretches where the wind had scoured the snow off the heather.

Despite the heavy going, the views were superb - and all the better for the snow which transformed the hills into a magnificent winter landscape. The great thing about fine scenery, apart from the aesthetic qualities, is that it provides the perfect excuse for stopping for a breather under the pretext of 'taking in the view'. I took in the view quite a few times.

But progress was slow, and it soon became obvious that we were not going to cover the planned eight miles this afternoon, so around 6.30 we searched out some (not ideal) pitches for the night. As darkness fell the sunset lit up distant snow covered hills, and the lights of Peebles twinkled far below. We settled down for a crisp sub zero night.

In the morning it was obvious that the tops were going to be out of the question, as we had foolishly omitted snowshoes and skis from our spring kit list, so alternative plans were made to drop down to lower level and join the Southern Upland Way to Tibbie Shiels Inn. This was accomplished without mishap, and there we were met by David Albon and Ian Shiel who had given David a lift, and who gave us all a lift by distributing some bottles of great scottish real ales (thanks again Ian. McEwan's Champion 7.3% - and very drinkable!). There was also a bottle of 'Black Douglas'. Coincidentally we had walked through a glen which Mike said was one of the lairs of the Douglas's, where cattle that had been liberated from their english owners were kept. There were cattle. There was a house. Mike contemplated knocking on the door and asking if we could have them back, but there didn't seem to be anyone at home. This was possibly a Good Thing.

From Tibbie Shiels to Moffat is a 22 mile trek. We decided on an early start - up at 5.30 to be on our way by 7.00am. During the night, though, the still cold clear conditions gave way to tent rattling wind and shrapnel-like volleys of rain, eventually settling into a a steady, depressing downpour that seemed (and indeed was) set for the rest of the day. So we had breakfast in the Inn, packed up and used a local cab to go and retrieve the Knipemobile. Then we all went home.

Here are a few more pictures:

Heading for the first camp

Tony contemplates the next snowfield.

The way ahead - my, that looks deep!

Down through the forest

Despite the early bail out, it was a great walk, and the Sunday plunge across deep snow and down through silent, snow filled forest, was terrific fun enjoyed by all - especially by my 'mates' when I managed to plummet through the crust into a 4 foot deep hole. Oh how they laughed.

Ha ha.

It really was a pretty good walk in the end, if somewhat shorter than planned; although poor David Albon joined us at just the wrong time and didn't get a walk at all! Still, at least he could relax from his weekend labours with a night in an excellent little inn.

Next time, and there will be a next time, we'll do the whole thing!

Pilgrimage

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Thu, 01 Apr 2010 19:49:00 +0000

Whan that Aprille with his shoures sote

The droghte of Marche hath perced to the rote,

And bathed every veyne in swich licour

Of which vertu engendred is the flour,

Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his half cours y-ronne

And smale foweles maken melodye,

That slepen al the nyght with open yë

(So priketh hem nature in hir corages),

Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages

Well, it is April, and I am off on a sort of pilgrimage, but contrary to doom-mongering global warming theorists, it seems that the climate was a little kinder in Chaucer's day. It's almost two years since I last did the TGO Challenge - a combination of ill health and sloth has kept me away from long distance walks of late - so the chance to stretch the sinews and fettle the kit with a 'real walk' prior to our traditional Daunder seemed a great idea. Especially in the gentle spring month of April.

Except we're off to the Borders, under the guidance of Mike Knipe, for a wee walk from Peebles to Moffat (and some of the party are walking back again). It's been snowing for the past two days, with gale force winds. No "shoures sote" for us, just wind blown, skin flailing, sleet and snow. Thankfully for me and Al, it's just one way for us, as it's Miss W's birthday on Tuesday, an event that I miss at my peril.

Would I rather stay at home? Not sure about that. There are "jobs that need doing". The cat (Doodlecat) has just been roundly berated by Miss W for "lolling around" and his piteous mewing as he tried to clamber into my rucksack to come with me seems to indicate that the rigours of home life over a Bank Holiday might involve more effort and hard work than trekking over the snowy wastes of Galloway.

So the pilgrimage it is. Tales will be told ...

And two of the storytellers are Mike Knipe and Alan Sloman, and of course Doodlecat will be reporting on the weekend too.

In the meantime, here is a video clip that I think captures the spirit of the expedition.

Happy Easter!!!

Stealth Warning

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Sun, 28 Mar 2010 17:24:00 +0000

Readers of Alan Sloman's blog will be aware that he has purchased a new jacket, described as his "newly acquired 'stealth' jacket" from Paramo.

One might imagine from the description that this is of a sober hue, blending with the subtle shades of nature - not a bit of it. The chromatically challenged designers at Paramo have come up with an absolute corker with this one - those with aesthetic sensibilities should look away now.

The fabled 'man in black' has at last emerged from his monochrome chrysalis in a burst of gorgeous technicolor. Spring is here.

The Hill Track Campaign

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Mon, 22 Mar 2010 20:44:00 +0000

There have always been paths and tracks in Scotland - and, whether for trade, social or sporting use, we who enjoy the odd stravaig have benefited greatly from the labours of those who constructed them. The bold 'rover roads' of the forties, the ingeniously engineered victorian stalkers' paths, or the old drovers' routes such as the Minigaig or the Mounth Roads - all have added to the accessibility and the delight of walking in the Highlands.

But you can have too much of a good thing ... and when tracks are bulldozed through virgin land for no good reason other than to save the legs of a few pampered bankers (I chose my words very carefully there!) then someone has to call a halt.

Having run my own business (before the weight of regulation, taxation, and interfering busybodies made me see sense and stop) I am not in favour of people with no investment and exposed to nil risk poking their noses into someone else's affairs. Especially the affairs of hill farmers and the like who have a genuine and pressing need for vehicular access to the hillsides, and without whom many of the areas we love would be much poorer.

However, when someone's business activities are liable to mar or destroy large tracts of fragile land for decades to come, then at the very least they should be called to account to justify the activity before the bulldozers rip in to the hillside.

So please do pop over to the Hill Tracks Campaign where you will be able to find out more - and, most importantly, sign the petition for greater regulation of the construction of vehicular hill tracks.

Mexico to Canada

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 10:52:00 +0000

Owing to the demand for tickets, John Manning's illustrated talk has been reconvened at a larger venue. This message just received from John:

Hi all,

Please note that the venue for my "2700 Miles" talk about the Pacific Crest Trail on March 26 has changed. It will now be held at St Peter's Church, Stainforth, which is just that little bit closer to the car park and the campsite than the village hall, as well as being equidistant from the pub. It's also warmer, drier, is easier to find and has a larger capacity - which means tickets are back on sale, and there should be entry on the door also.

Very best wishes all, and many thanks for your support,

John

John Manning

So there's still time to get your ticket! You can ring John on OI729 822547 to reserve tickets (only two quid a a shot!) or email at john(at)outdoorsmanning(dot)com.

A kick in the Googles Pt 2

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 17:56:00 +0000

Things have not been going well with the changes necessitated by Blogger's withdrawal of FTP support. Creating a Wordpress theme that accurately mimics Doodlecat's existing design seems to be beyond my (limited) abilities. Thus I have a choice between these three options:

Choose an existing Wordpress theme and modify it a bit. Trouble is, I cannot export the ftp Blogger posts directly into Wordpress, so I'd have to move it all over to Blogger first. And I'd need to work carefully on the CSS to make sure all the static pages worked properly. There's an awful lot of them!
Create a new index page for the site and have just this page hosted by Blogger as the Doodlecat Blog or whatever. Clunky and possibly slow - but easy to do.
Just stop blogging altogether - it was only ever embedded in the home page to allow multiple users to add content to Doodlecat. We no longer do that, so this is now just an amusing pastime. I could go and do something more useful instead.

Right now I feel a bit like this chap - and I have to confess that my initial reaction to the news was similar!

New boots & panties

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 17:15:00 +0000

But so far – just the new boots! The old Asolos have hiked their last hike and will see out their twilight years in gentle retirement around the garden. Although the soles are worn almost flat (through to the spongy stuff underneath in places) and the fabric uppers are a bit ragged, amazingly they remain watertight and astonishingly comfortable.

But they won’t do another year, and this model is now looooong discontinued.

Anticipating the old Asolos’ demise, I tried a pair of AKUs a while back, but didn’t like them, and none of the current crop from Asolo seem to fit as well. Readers with long memories might recall that I have “issues” with boot fitting.

But not this time – no sir!

Bury St Edmunds, miles from the nearest hill, is strangely well provided with shops selling outdoor gear, but I always go first to the independent outdoor emporium. Outdoor shops come & go, but 'Stepping Out' keeps on adapting and surviving, diving into any niche not covered by the big boys. In the face of competition from the new Cotswold and Blacks stores they are currently re-inventing themselves again. I browsed the footwear. Nothing much that I fancied, but the Meindl Softline Ultra GTX looked pretty good. Despite knowing that the narrower Italian lasts suit me better, after a chat with the owner I was persuaded to give them a try. My size wasn’t in stock, but it was ordered straightaway and yesterday a phone call confirmed that they were in.

Absolute astonishment. They laced up easily to give a firm snug fit. A stroll up and down – no appreciable heel lift, and plenty of room in the toe box too (the Asolos tended to taper in a bit at the end). Either my feet have got wider, or the Meindl Softline is narrower than their traditional boots, or maybe the new design and lacing system is much more flexible. Whatever – the fit is excellent.

Even better, this is a fairly stiff boot with a high ankle cuff. OK, unlike some of the softer lightweight boots they will take a few miles to bed in. The benefit is that over rough, steep ground edging won’t be a problem and that higher cuff means that maybe there is less chance of water pouring over the top in the ultra boggy ground that Scotland promises after this winter.

To sum up. Not the lightest boot on the market, but light enough, and very well made apart from the usual rubbish insole, which I’ll replace with my Superfeet. I think I’ll get a lot of miles out of them. So if you think that the regular Meindl boot is too wide or has too much volume, these are well worth a try.

Letting the train take the strain.

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 21:05:00 +0000

There is one part of the TGO Challenge that I hate - getting there. Scotland is so inconveniently placed for those of us in the south.

This is the pre-chally Thursday routine. Up far too early, drive to Alan's place, take a ludicrously expensive taxi to the airport, and then suffer the mounting anxiety as the rucksack with all my worldly goods for the next two weeks is swallowed by the baggage handlers' dark satanic mechanism. Herded like cattle onto the plane by tired and fedup cabin staff. Then maybe, just maybe, we take off on time and arrive at the correct destination. We once ended up at Lossiemouth on a flight to Inverness owing to fog. For 'security reasons' we then had to wait sweating on an airless plane until a few scruffy coaches came to collect us. The cabin crew, who had already done Geneva and Paris wilted too. Easyjet? Queasyjet I'd say.

Then all this stress is followed by the mad rush to try to buy gas or meths ( forbidden on aircraft) and still be in time for the train or bus to our final destination. No wonder we're driven to drink by the time we stagger in.

This is meant to be a fun holiday. There has to be a better way...

On average the trip from home in East Anglia to the chosen start point has worked out to around £85 each in the past, taking into account the air fare, taxi, and ancillary buses and trains etc. Can we have a more relaxed time for the same price?

Given a little forward planning, yes indeed!

In times gone by we used to nip up to Scotland using the sleeper service to Rannoch, Corrour, Blair Atholl or Kingussie on cheap Apex fares, but as these became scarcer than hens' teeth, this habit died away in recent years. Time for a little reappraisal we thought - and we guessed that a midweek train near midnight would be more likely to have a bargain fare or two. The FirstScotrail website was monitored closely.

And we came up trumps! The three fenboys have secured two bargain berths and one Apex fare on the Caledonian sleeper from London Euston to Glasgow central - AND pre booked seats on the little rattly train to Lochailort all for total cost per head of £78.24 (plus a cheapo ticket down to London).The cheapest sleeper ticket was £49.00. Not bad for a 400 mile trip that includes bed & breakfast (if a cup of tea & a muffin counts as breakfast).

So for once we'll be able to stay in bed long after our compatriots have set off, and have loads of time when we arrive to amble across the platform to take a leisurely shave & shower before setting out to see a bit more of Glasgow than the run from Tiso's to Queen Street.

After a few years of despairing of getting affordable fares on the Caledonian Sleeper, it seems that the right route at the right time can still produce the odd bargain.

Fellow challengers will easily recognise us at Queen Street. We'll be the relaxed, clean shaven, fragrant chaps at the bar, casting a sardonic eye over frazzled latecomers. Ah ... sweet schadenfreude...

But now, with the real work done (planning the route!) however you choose to get there, here's to a great TGO Challenge 2010. After my forced withdrawal from last year's event, I'm looking forward to renewing old friendships and making new ones.

So to all challengers, old & new, have a great time, and I'll see you for a dram or several in Montrose!

A kick in the Googles.

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 20:50:00 +0000

Yes, and it hurts!

Most readers who have commented on the home page will know that this part uses Blogger for the posts and comments - and it works brilliantly. But not for much longer, simply because this is my site, hosted on server space that I pay for. It seems that this makes me persona non grata as far as Blogger/ Google are concerned. They are turning off their FTP service, which means that Doodlecat's home page will cease to function from March 26th.

No, I didn't think it was sufficent notice either.

Blogger say that they will have a "migration tool" available from 22nd February to allow me to move the blog section of Doodlecat to a so-called "custom domain" hosted on (you guessed it) their servers.

Is it a good idea to have all my eggs in Google's basket?

I think not. I pay for my domain, and my web space. Therefore it is mine, and no-one can interfere with or censor it.

And Blogger's hosting is pretty thin anyway - allowing just ten static pages. Doodlecat has, well, I don't know how many, but it's a lot! That means I would have this bit hosted with Blogger, leaving the rest where it is and cobble it together. And I'm no techy. I chose this system precisely because I wanted something simple.

Maybe it's churlish to complain about the withdrawal of a 'free' service, but the manner in which this has been done (announcement first - tools to deal with it following weeks later - virtually no notice) demonstrates a high handed and contemptuous attitude to the users that I find pretty repellent.

I would have willingly paid for this service to continue - and I suspect that most of the FTP users would too. But with only around 1¹/₂ million of us I guess that would be chicken feed to Google.

Free services are fine, but independence is more important. So, thanks, Google, Blogger or whoever you are these days, but no thanks. I'm off to have a look at Wordpress before I resort to a book on PHP scripts and try to write my own bloggy bit.

Now, that would be a disaster :)

Mexico to Canada with John Manning

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 20:25:00 +0000

Just caught up with this on John Manning's Blog. John was TGO's deputy editor (Deppity Dawg) and is a fine outdoors journalist.

John is giving a talk on his epic Pacific Crest Trail walk on March 26th in Stainforth - details below. And it's in the middle of stupendous walking country, so we'll be toddling along. Hope to see you there!

It's Snow Joke!

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 12:04:00 +0000

I received the little piece below in an email this morning. This is for every southerner who has been lured by the delights of living in the north :-)

THE DIARY OF A LONDONER LIVING IN SCOTLAND

'MY FIRST WINTER '

DEC 20th It's starting to snow. The first of the season and the first we've seen for years. The wife and I took out our hot toddies and sat on the porch watching the fluffy soft flakes drift gently down clinging to the trees and covering the ground. It's so beautiful and peaceful.

DEC 24th We awoke to a lovely blanket of crystal white glistening snow covering as far as the eye could see. What a fantastic sight, every tree and bush covered with a beautiful white mantle. I shovelled snow for the first time ever and loved it. I did both our driveway and the pavement. Later that day a snowplough came along and accidentally covered up our driveway with compacted snow from the street. The driver smiled and waved. I waved back and shovelled it away again. The children next door built a snowman with coal for eyes and a carrot for a nose, and had a snowball fight, a couple just missed me and hit the car so I threw a couple back and joined in their fun.

DEC 26th It snowed an additional 5 inches last night and the temperature dropped to around minus 8 degrees. Several branches on our trees and bushes snapped due to the weight of the snow. I shovelled our driveway again. Shortly afterwards the snowplough came by and did his trick again. Much of the snow is now a brownish - grey.

JAN 1st Warmed up enough during the day to create some slush which soon became ice when the temperature dropped again. Bought snow tyres for both our cars £500. Fell on my arse in the driveway. £100 to a physio but nothing was broken.

JAN 5th Still cold. Sold the wife's car and bought her a 4x4 to get her to work. She slid into a wall and did considerable damage to the right wing - £200. Had another 8 inches of white shite last night. Both vehicles are covered in salt and iced up slush - that bastard snowplough came by twice today. Where's that bloody shovel.

JAN 9th More f####g snow. Not a tree or bush on our property that hasn't been damaged. Power was off most of the night. Tried to keep from freezing to death with candles and a paraffin heater which tipped over and nearly torched the house. I managed to put the flames out but suffered 2nd Degree burns on my hands. Lost all my eyebrows and eyelashes. Car hit a flipping deer on the way to casualty and was written off.

JAN 13th F****g bastard white shite just keeps on coming down. Have to put on every article of clothing just to go to the post box. The little buggers next door ambushed me with snowballs on the way back - I'll shove that carrot so far up the little @#*#ks arse it'll take good surgeon 6 hours to find it. If I ever catch the arsehole that drives the snowplough I'll chew open his chest and rip out his heart with my teeth. I think the bastard hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shovelling and then he accelerates down the street
like Michael 'f*****g' Schumacher and buries the f*****g driveway again.

JAN 17th 16 more sodding inches of f****g snow and f*****g ice and f*****g sleet and god knows what other white shite fell last night. I am in court in 3 months time for assaulting the snowplough driver with an ice - pick. Can' t move my f******g toes. Haven't seen the sun for 5 weeks. Minus 20 and more f*****g snow forecast!!!

F*** THIS, I'M MOVING BACK TO LONDON !!!
(original author unknown)

Free Digital Mapping in the UK?

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 20:23:00 +0000

In November Gordon Brown, our esteemed leader, announced that the Government wished to make some Ordnance Survey data and some products free to the end-user.

Following this announcement, in December last year a consultation document confirmed that the 1:50,000 ‘Landranger’ and 1:25,000 ‘Explorer’ maps would be included. The proposal is for these datasets to be released with few restrictions on re-use. Maybe none at all.

Why?

Well, the real objective has nothing at all to do with us, the outdoor enthusiasts. Our benefit is a welcome side effect. It is to make the mapping freely available to organisations that might use it for mapping crime statistics, house prices, recycling targets, flooding reports or any other of a multitude of uses.

Much of the OS revenue stream will remain, and may become more expensive to compensate. The proposal is for the withdrawal of the least detailed mapping, so the sort of large scale mapping for property registration, developers, builders, surveyors etc will remain as paid-for data. However, the so-called "low resolution" data happily includes the 1:50000 and the 1:25000 scales, which is about as detailed as we're ever likely to need outside a street map.

The digital mapping publishers must be quaking in their virtual boots, and one wonders how they will justify the cost of their software without the highly lucrative sales of OS licensed product. Paper map publishers, less so maybe. A Harveys map is still the bees knees.

Obviously, to preserve the excellent paper maps and fund future mapping, the OS will require a considerable subsidy from the government (i.e the taxpayers of this fair land) to compensate for the loss of revenue. That's you and me, but, wonderfully, everyone else and every business and banker in the land as well, so only pence per head.

It's not often that I find myself the recipient of government largesse - in fact most of my business life seems to have been spent funding folly after folly by our commercially inept politicos - so in this case I'm prepared to put my capitalist principles to one side. Bring it on!

So well done to Grough Route for being at the forefront of free digital mapping. Right now it's a bargain £1.50 per month for the whole of the UK at 1:50000 AND 1:25000. If the proposals for free access to this dataset go through, then it will be free.

What now for Anquet, Memory Map, Quo etc?

The Mournes in Winter

noreply@blogger.com (michael gray) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 23:15:00 +0000

The wall which the stile crosses is around 5¹/₂ foot in height

With almost 2 weeks of a continuous freeze & with one abandoned trip to the hills already. Due to the roads being impassable around the 2 relative hills we wanted to climb on the Tyrone Donegal border, we were keen to get out.

Crossing the Mourne wall, where even the stile is buried

As we drove up towards the Ott Mountain car park, we were met by a road closed sign, due to the snow & icy on the road. Luckily we were in a 4 wheel drive vehicle - though this had not helped the week before - and we made the car park fine, with the only other vehicle in the car park being a land rover. We geared up whilst watching a few other drivers appear out of the mist & struggle with the icy conditions.

Snow & Rime sculptures around the gaps in the wall still showing

We made the Mourne wall in good time, despite the mist and snow conditions under foot, with the pacer poles helping to pull ourselves out of the deeper drifts.

We decide to follow the Mourne wall, well what little of it was actually showing above the snow, to Slieve Muck via the minor top of Carn Mountain.

The snow drifts by the Mourne wall were deep enough for the construction of snow shelters, with several of differing quality being passed on our way to Carn Mountains summit. Visibility was not the best and at a couple of points started to turn into a white out accompanied with the ubiquitous wind driven snow. A Quality day then!

We descended from Carn Mountain in deep snow, before turning a small out crop on the ascent of Slieve Muck. Anywhere ground which had been blasted clear by the wind, was covered in thick water ice, the gullies on Slieve Commedgah must have been in fine condition for ice climbing. Or indeed anywhere in the mournes was for those wishing to practice their crampon work.

We crossed the wall and walked the short distance to the summit Trig Point, just as the snow started again. Ski shades on, we walked into the wind and snow, returned over the wall and descended back to Carn Mountain, only stopping for a quick lunch break, before descending over Ott Mountain, back to the car park, passing ski tracks on our way down.

On the Summit of Slieve Muck in an incoming snow shower

Lake District Floods

noreply@blogger.com (michael gray) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 02:42:00 +0000

Here's a few pic's of the floods in Lake District this November, all are from around Derwent Water and Keswick

Ashness gill, where it entry's the the grounds of Derwent Water YHA

Ashness Gill from Ashness Bridge

The lane way at The Ings

The River Greta starting to flow over the wall by the bridge near the pencil museum

The Greta

The Borrowdale Road by the Derwent Water YH

The Talented Mr Smith

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 17:35:00 +0000

I had an email from Steve Smith yesterday, author of the Munro Diaries in Random Doodles.

Writing is Steve's hobby, and this email was to announce his bright shiny new website, where he has gathered many of his outdoor writings, poetry and humour under one roof. They're always interesting and Steve has a gift for involving the reader as he recounts his experiences.

Here are a few of the 'outdoor' titles to whet your appetite:

"Welsh 2000s" - The story of walking all the Welsh 2000ft mountains
"English 2000s" - The English 2000ft mountains I've walked so far.
"Scottish 2000s" - The Scottish 2000ft to 3000ft mountains I've walked so far.
"Footsteps" - a 32 mile walk I did on Boxing Day 2008 (re-creating a walk my Grandfather did 70 years to the day)
"Glenmore Lodge" - Diary of an outdoor skills course I did in February
"Walking Home" - a 24 mile walk across the Wiltshire Downs

There's lots more, so why not pop over to www.meip.co.uk and enjoy Steve's excellent writing ... and the occasional terrible joke.

Recommended.

She's Snow Angel!

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 16:21:00 +0000

After spending the last couple of days confined to barracks (redecorating kitchen for a few GBPs) today was the first day since the blanket of snow descended to actually go out and enjoy it.

We were having a great walk through the Kings Forest, with snow depth averaging a comfortable 5", and nice and cold too, so it stayed light and powdery, when Miss W suddenly shouted "Let's make angels!"

This is an activity missing from my childhood memory. It's probably more of a girly thing, so not actively promoted at Dotheboys Hall, or wherever it was that I was confined during the 'growing up' phase. Anyway, I was unfamiliar with both the concept and the procedure. A demonstration, with instruction, was duly given.

"Lie on your back and swing your legs out sideways and wave your arms up and down - now roll your head from side to side - now get up".

Results below.

Miss W (above in the blue jacket) and Lord E (right) begin the creative process. Below: The finished creations.

It has to be said that the process is far less wearying than creating a snowman - or would have been had Miss W not been so delighted with the results that we had to repeat the procedure at every level area of snow that we came across.

Very level, this part of Suffolk.

There are many, many angels in the forest.

I have a frostbitten bum.

Walking poles - who needs them?

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 20:50:00 +0000

Browsing the excellent Grough recently, I read a piece about medical emergencies in the hills, and followed the link to the medical section of the BMC website. All good stuff of course, but being curious I dug further, and came across a download for a piece on the use of walking poles.

A key sentence stood out: "During load carriage on moderate grade, they reduce the perception of physical exertion."

Did you see what caught my attention? Yes, the telling phrase "the perception of physical exertion". Not, please note, the actual physical exertion.

It's quite interesting, especially when considering that "Long-term use of sticks may reduce balance and coordinative ability of the subject. This disadvantage is becoming more and more evident and can lead to certain balancing problems, especially in difficult mountain areas... "

My recent walks have been without the use of poles - mainly because I find they just get in the way when you want to use a compass, have a drink, smoke a fag etc. But the balance thing is undoubtedly true - you can become overly reliant on the sticks in difficult terrain, to the detriment of your natural balance and rhythm.

On the other hand, it is considered that for those of advanced age, with excess bodyweight, arthritis, and / or carrying heavy backpacks the use of sticks, especially downhill, may be beneficial. So I'll probably take mine on the TGO Challenge then ;-)

But, for the more lightweight hiker - given that the weight of your pack and footwear has probably reduced by 15lbs or more over the past few years, do you need those poles? Especially if you carry them most of the time. And even of you do clack clack along all the time, is it really neccessary? Or have we all fallen for marketing spin and truly believe that without these talismans we'll be carrying hundreds of elephants (or whatever the ad man's pachyderm of choice might be) up every hill we encounter? Are they more of a security blanket than a real benefit?

The consensus of the UIAA medical committee seems to be that, unless diseased, overloaded and infirm, most of us don't need them, and might even be better off without them.

Just a thought.

How to drink beer.

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 17:33:00 +0000

In the last post about pork pies (my next project is a Melton Mowbray variant) I touched on the subject of beer. One aspect of english cuisine that has enjoyed a welcome revival over the last couple of decades is craft brewing, and even the big brewers are producing new and reviving old ales to tickle the palate.

In a recent newspaper article I saw an old tip for serving fine ales to accompany food. Serve them in a large wine glass. It sounds a bit odd, but it works really well, and allows your guests to sample a range of ales as an integral part of a meal, just as they would expect with fine wines. And the shape of the wine glass encourages the aromas from the beer to be appreciated.

Try it. It really does add to the experience. Plus your guests won't get overwhelmed with the volume. I first came across this in the seventies when invited to Sunday lunch with a chap from work. I was doing a night shift at the Goodmans loudspeaker factory in Havant at the time - one of many short lived jobs in my early career.

I was used to drinking Gales HSB in pint pots, and thought this chap serving his family peculiar brews in tiddly glasses was a) a bit eccentric and b) a bit miserly. How wrong can you be? A wealth of top beers from England, Belgium and Germany graced the table, and we finally finished with five year old Thomas Hardy's Ale from Eldridge Pope with the pudding and cheeses. With an ABV of almost 12% we are talking of something with the same strength as wine. Sadly, Eldridge Pope went bust a few years ago, and although there have been random efforts to recreate it, I'm not sure how successful they have been.

Down at the pub, of course, a pint glass is the thing - and a fine session ale in quantity makes for a great evening. But the next time you're having a supper with friends, instead of a bottle or two of Kangarouge or Billablanc, why not try serving a range of interesting beers in your guests' wine glasses; and maybe, just maybe, see committed wine lovers seduced by the delights of good ale.

Cheers!!

Ethnic Cuisine

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 21:26:00 +0000

'Ethnic' as used in this country generally means 'not british', and 'ethnic cuisine' has become just another way of saying 'foreign food'.

But why? Do we have no ethnicity?

Perhaps it was the industrial revolution that began the process of killing off our food heritage. As the first industrialised nation, the british, and in particular the english, suffered a divorce from their regional dishes and food culture as the vast industrial conurbations sucked in labour from the countryside, and farming became increasingly mechanised to produce basic foodstuffs to feed the new towns. Industrialised food processing followed, and by the mid 20th century mass produced 'bread', canned and frozen foodstuffs gradually became the mainstay of the british diet.

The Empire too played its part. Returning emigres and new immigrants brought us new foods and flavours eventually leading to the ubiquitous indian and chinese restaurants, and many more exotic tastes. But as well as exploring these new flavours, something was lost. Whilst sampling peasant cookery from across the world, we forgot our own heritage. Whilst other countries slowly absorbed new foods into their own cuisine, we replaced ours. Now the simple pizza has spread across the world; Pan Haggerty languishes in obscurity.

In my own neck of the woods local East Anglian dishes include the scrumptious Huntingdon Fidget Pie and the rather curious Bedfordshire Clanger (a suet pudding with savoury meat & onions at one end, fruit or jam at the other; it made an easily transportable meal for a man in the fields). It also gave us the expression "drop a clanger". If the child carrying them "dropped a clanger" this would be a disaster, as someone would go hungry.

I like a well prepared curry as much as the next man, and chinese, thai and japanese food is great, as is west indian and a whole host of imported dishes. I love a good french restaurant, and even here in the depths of Suffolk we have 'Maison Bleue' in Bury St Edmunds.

But wouldn't it be nice if our own cooking was as celebrated as much as that of starving french peasants reduced to grubbing around for snails? When did you last set out to an english restaurant? No, I mean a really English restaurant, without pretensions to be french, italian, greek or 'serbo croat fusion' or whatever. Mmmmmmm. Thought not.

Years ago, when we first moved to Suffolk, Maison Bleue used to be Mortimer's Fish Bar - a restaurant serving the very freshest of fresh fish from the coast, cooked on the premises (right in front of you if you sat at the eponymous bar). In Abbeygate street we had a butcher, fishmonger and game shop where you could even buy a hare and its blood to make a jugged hare (when did you last see that on a menu? Wymondham 1973 in my case).

And it's not just the absence of good game dealers and so on. English cuisine remains in decline, thanks in part to the ghastly trend of overstating the merits of foreign dishes that began after WW2 with Elizabeth David, despite a few brave chefs trying to stem the tide. Now my local shops sell yams, papayas, parrot fish, cous cous and and strawberries - in December. From May to November the finest celery in the world is grown in the fens around Ely, just up the road. Where do our shops get theirs? Spain. SPAIN!

Of course, there are some things we have to import such as spices and wines - for all the efforts of our Suffolk vineyards, I don't think the chatelains of the Medoc will be quaking in their bottes, although, to be fair, there are a few decent whites around these days. Good beers, though, are our real tour de force, with a range of character, strength and flavours to accompany all the best english fare.

OK, so where is this leading? This winter I have decided to explore traditional english cuisine, our own 'ethnic dishes', and try a few recipes suited to the season with local ingredients. And here's one for Boxing day to join the cold collation. It's an interesting variation on the traditional Pork Pie, and it is much closer to the Elizabethan and mediaeval pies of old, which usually contained fruit (apples, raisins and the like) along with the meat. Indeed, as most people know, the traditional mince pies that we eat at Christmas originally contained real minced meat (mutton or tongue, plus the suet of course) along with the fruit, alcohol and spices, making a pie that kept well, as well as tasting great. Now we just have the suet, and sadly that has become so-called 'vegetable suet', a vile concoction of palm oil, rice flour and starch - I mean, really, what's the point?

Anyway, I had a trial run with my Boxing day pie. It hails from the Midlands, Leicestershire to be precise, and I got the recipe from my mum last week. We all know Melton Mowbray, home of the Melton Mowbray pork pie (and also Pedigree Petfoods!). This one comes from twenty miles or so south of Melton, and the only cheat is with the stock - I didn't make the jellied stock from pork bones as a butcher would, because you only need cupful. I used a bit of home made chicken stock from the freezer, but any chicken or pork stock will do, with a bit of gelatine.

So, here we go - Market Harborough Pie (serves 8) - vegetarians, look away now.

For the hot water crust pastry

450g / 1lb plain flour
5ml / 1tsp salt
1 medium egg yolk
175g / 6oz lard
150ml / 5 fl oz water
Beaten egg for glazing

For the filling

1kg / 2¹/₄ lb coarsley minced pork
450g / 1lb cooking apples, peeled, cored & chopped
2 medium sized onions finely chopped
50g / 2oz caster sugar
2¹/₂ml / ¹/_{2 tsp dried sage}
_{5ml / 1tsp salt}
2¹/₂ml / ¹/_{2 tsp freshly ground black pepper}

For the jellied stock

5ml / 1tsp gelatine
150 ml / 5 fl oz strong chicken stock

To make the pastry, sift the flour and salt into a bowl & make a well in the centre. Drop in the egg yolk and cover with a liitle of the flour. Cut the lard into chunks and place in a pan with the water. Heat gently until the fat has melted, then bring to the boil and pour quickly into the dry ingredients, mixing with a wooden spoon until the dough is cool enough to handle.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured board and knead it until smooth & soft and no traces of egg remain. Return it to the warm mixing bowl & cover with a plate. Leave in a warm place for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, mix together the filling ingredients, and grease a 15cm / 6" loose bottomed cake tin
Take three quarters of the warm pastry and roll it out into a 25cm / 10" round. Fold and lift it into the tin and mould it carefully and evenly to the shape, raising the sides with your fingers until a little above the top of the tin. The pastry should be about 5mm /¹/₄" thick. Leave it to set slightly, then pack in the filling, mounding it slightly in the middle.
Heat the oven to 230C / 450F / Gas 8. Brush the pastry edges with beaten egg & roll out the rermainin pastry to make a lid. Place it on the pie and seal the edges and trim neatly. Brush the top with beaten egg and cut a small hole in the centre to let steam escape. Use the pastry trimmings to make 'leaves' to decorate, position them on the pie and brush with more of the beaten egg.
Bake the pie in the hot oven for twnty minutes. Cover the top with foil, lower the heat to 170C / 325F and bake for a further three hours. Remove and allow the pie to cool in the tin.
When the pie is almost cold, warm the stock and dissolve the powdered gelatine in it. Allow it to cool. When the stock has become syrupy, pour it into the pie through the hole in the lid, using a small funnel. Refrigerate the pie for a couple of hours until cold. Pop it onto a mug or other support & slide off the cake tin ring then gently ease it off the base & onto a plate. Refrigerate for a further 8 - 10 hours. Serve cold.

The finished result - deeeeelicious!

I have been sampling this pie with a variety of real ales - all in the interests of research, of course ;-)

A Free Akto

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 17:50:00 +0000

I already have one - and it's been well worth the money. I purchased mine on line from the excellent Climbers' Shop in Ambleside, and now I see that they want to extend their database of potential e customers by tempting us with a draw for a free Akto. It's got to be better odds than the lottery, so if you want to give it a try, click this link. It could be you!

Chanson d'Automne

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 21:09:00 +0000

The end of Autumn is often seen as a sad time of year - summer now long gone, the trees naked and the nights longer and darker.

I've never seen it that way, and I look forward to the autumn days, first with delicious fruits and fungi, then the amazing colours of the turning leaves and finally, at last, the first hints of winter and the excuse to close the door and draw the curtains against the weather and enjoy a spot of hibernation.

No "saglots longs des violons" here - no sir.

A bright cool day in autumn shows Suffolk at its best, and a little venture into the hinterland uncovers the amazing variety of lifestyles hidden away in the countryside. One small cottage had a handwritten sign outside that simply said "Llama products", and sure enough in the adjacent field were llamas and ponies being attended to by a couple of very small children and a large gambolling tabby cat. We wondered what the llama products might be.

"Sausages?" I ventured.
"Don't be silly - it'll be knitted stuff"
"Llamas can't knit, surely? Their hooves won't hold the needles"
"Idiot"

A turn in the lane and over a stile, and the footpath went through a small wood by another cottage - with yet more domestic animals. This time half a dozen sheep and a huge black pig.

"Sausages?" I ventured. More certain of my ground here ;-)

Miss W was busy making friends with the porker, scratching his nose to a chorus of grunts & snuffles (the latter from the pig, not Miss W).

"No! How could anyone make sausages out of such a cuddly creature?"

"Well, woolly hats seem out of the question - the sheep have got that market cornered"

The pig gave a sort of squeaky squeal, which Miss W interpreted as my 'upsetting it', so off we went back to Lavenham, passing small stands outside houses with fresh eggs (including duck eggs), pickles and preserves, vegetables and fruit. Each ramshackle table simply had the produce on it together with a jar or a tin for customers to leave the money. Presumably nothing gets stolen, and everyone pays, or this just wouldn't work. It made me feel that I'd had a day strolling through an H E Bates novel - "The Darling Buds of May" perhaps. Made me feel quite jolly to know that life can be this way.

And to make the day quite 'perfick', we came across a superb crop of sloes in the hedgerow, and gathered enough to top up the sloe gin supply. Just in time - we're down to the last bottle. Our recipe, by the way, can be found in this post.

That was a week ago. Over this past weekend I enjoyed a very different couple of autumn days in Derbyshire with my brother in law, David (my walking partner on the 2004 TGO Challenge). David had planned a walk for Saturday, and I was to plan one for Sunday. Having gained a place on next years Challenge with the redoubtable Alan Sloman, part of the objective was to get a bit of ascent into a walk, and reassure myself that after the past years health alarms, I am at last pretty fit.

David's walk was exceptionally well timed. We set off from Cambridge at 7.30 and were walking in the Goyt Valley by 10.30 am, for a 17k canter with 650m of ascent. David reckoned this would take about 5 - 6 hours with a stop for lunch. That would get us back to the car by dusk.

I packed a head torch ... just in case.

And it's a fine walk. From the Errwood reservoir we went up to the oddly 'restored ruins' of Errwood hall (looking very spooky in the wind and rain, but no doubt a great picnic spot on a summer's day) and on up the valley to find a shrine built by the owners of the old house (the Grimshawes) in 1899. It was built to commemorate a favourite nanny, Senorita Dolores de Bergria. It's quite strange, being very small (you have to crouch to get through the door) and completely dark inside. But with the aid of the camera flash I got the picture opposite. A cold windswept hillside 400m up on the Derbyshire moors seems a sad & remote place to commemorate someone from the warm climate of Spain, but maybe in the driving rain and wind some of the charm of the location was lost on me!

Then on & up to 'The Street' and Pym's Chair (great views through the gaps in the cloud) and the long, windy ridge walk south to Shining Tor. From there we returned south eastish to the Goyt Valley again, over the river and up Berry Clough to Burbage Edge. The lights were coming on here and there in Buxton far below us - and very cosy it looked too! But onwards we went, eventually descending via Wildmoorstone Brook to return to the car park at 16.15 - not bad going, given the wet & windy conditions. It was good to get to our B&B in Tideswell, the excellent Merman Barn, where we were welcomed with tea & biscuits and had a great room with, joy of joys, an absolutely first class shower.

We slept late after a night at the Star, and breakfasted at 8.30. The day had started bright but windy, and there was a minor dispute between two technologies. David's IPhone displayed an optimistic weather forecast from the BBC, whereas my Nike watch - an altimeter thingy - showed a black cloud with rain when switched to weather mode, with a declining pressure graph. By the end of breakfast the sun had disappeared and the cloud was building - as was the wind. We ditched the BBC and went with the watch, and chose a realtively low level route.

It was a delight! Starting with an easy trundle down Tideswell Dale to Litton Mill, then across the river and up & over to the track above High Dale to Brushfield and on to Monsal Head where, by good timing, we arrived at the Stable Bar of the Monsal Head Hotel at bang on 12 noon. This excellent timing was assisted by the slight delay caused by David's attempt to gain entry to the railway tunnel at the end of the viaduct.

A glorious lunch accompanied by pints of the Monsal Head special brew, and we were sufficiently refreshed to brave the elements once more, and pushed off back over the viaduct and up past Arkwright's Mill at Cressbrook, up Cressbrook Dale, over the stepping stones to Tansley Dale and eventually back to the car at an impressively early hour for the journey home - delayed slightly as David had to risk life & limb on the B6049 to retrieve the map that I had foolishly left on the car roof.

All in all, some great autumn walking. Well - it is my favourite time of the year. Ah well, winter round the corner. Time to draw the curtains and Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Chasing Charlie

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 20:56:00 +0000

That was a pretty wet holiday - but if you go to the North West of Scotland, you generally don't go for the sunshine - just as well!

What possessed the young pretender to abandon a luxurious and debauched exile in Rome for these rain soaked shores? Mind you, by all accounts his training on the continent stood him in good stead for withstanding the rigours of the climate, as his capacity for brandy well outstripped that of his hosts, seemingly unaffected whilst those about him slid decorously beneath the royal table. With that capacity for alcohol, and his ability to stravaig all over the rough country of Moidart, he would have been a great TGO challenger.

And the '45 was probably a closer run thing than many history books allow - King George and the Hanoverian court were packing their bags as he reached Derby. Had Charlie carried the day when debated with his advisers in Derby, and evaded engagement en route to London ... ah, but the whole enterprise is littered with 'what ifs'. Ultimately it led to the barren moor at Culloden and the destruction of the highland way of life.

We had an excellent holiday in the cradle of the '45, and we enjoyed several stravaigs in the prince's footsteps but (sorry Iain) failed in one of our objectives - to find the engraved stone that allegedly marks the actual spot where the Stuart standard was raised above Glenfinnan. It was just too wet & misty! We also failed to locate the gold bullion sent from France to assist the rebels It arrived too late and was allegedly buried near Arisaig. Ho hum ... back to doing the lottery.

We enjoyed our expeditions though, and got in some good rough walking. The new Rab waterproof trews proved their worth too. Not the most elegant, but with super articulated knees and a generous cut they are supremely comfortable, even when scrambling up some unexpectedly steep inclines (I'm not a great scrambler).

My TGO Challenge with Alan next May will start off at Lochailort, so plenty of opportunities to do a bit more 'chasing Charlie' (that's the pretender, not the white powder, Al).

This is a great area to explore, but beware. There are few circular walks (OK, the Corryhully horseshoe might count in good weather and longer daylight) and the ridges are rough, alternately boggy and craggy as you proceed. That said, the views are to die for, and the satisfaction after a day on the hill here is absolute. But most of all, it's the coast that captivates as much as the hills. Inlets, lochs, islets. Hidden forts and long abandoned fishing villages and crofts, plus, unusual in many parts of Scotland, some quite fantastic woodland too.

And we did get some sunshine - and here are a few holiday snaps to prove it.

Loch Morar

Fort William & Ben Nevis at dusk

Glenfinnan at night - very atmospheric

The Glenfinnan monument is very atmospheric, but my attention was caught by a new addition to the shoreline at Arisaig since we were last here.

A draped parachute is sculpted over a polished granite pylon with the lines from the folded 'chute etched down the flanks of polished stone. This is the new memorial to the Czech agents of the SOE who were billeted in this area at several of the large houses. Other nations were at Inverailort Castle and Morar Lodge. They trained at Arisaig House and in the surrounding countryside before being parachuted into occupied territory to 'set Europe ablaze'.

The memorial is by sculptor Josef Vajce, and the foundation stone for the memorial was blessed by Pope Benedict XVI.We looked at it and thought of the men who left this place to parachute into the freezing night air during WWII. Very brave men, and a fitting tribute to their memory.

The Wrong Trousers

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 22:51:00 +0000

I was going to do a post about our wet weekend in the Lakes but as me & Miss W are off to Scotland tomorrow, time is tight. So here's just one pic from the weekend showing Shirley in 'The Wrong Trousers'.

Shirley had been trying to order replacement down trews from PHD in a smaller size, but they just got bigger and bigger ... and this pair seem to be accomodating Alan Sloman as well! This was our one night of luxury in a B&B - as for the rest, well, I'm still scraping the mud off the groundsheet of my Akto.

Still, we had some good laughs as well as some extraordinarily wet & blowy walking, especially on Black Crag where the wind really was ripping past. Most invigorating ;-)

Happy birthday to me!

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 10:00:00 +0000

I woke up today to discover that it is my birthday (I'd forgotten when I went to bed) so it's off to the bright lights of Bury St Edmunds for a celebratory lunch. All bar one of my cards (bless you Miss W) were of the humourous-sarcastic-wicked variety. I'm not sure whether that says more about me or my friends and family. Here's a couple of examples, courtesy of Richard & Sarah and Alan. An uncannily lifelike representation of Miss W there, Al!