The Famous Four go on a Little Adventure

Off they went in the little sleepy-van.
Off up the hill and down the other side.
Off up the lanes 'til they got to ... a quiet place,
Where they snuggled up together in the little sleepy-van and went to sleep.

In the morning, they woke ... and stretched ... and made some tea and toast,
Which was nice.
Then, they put on warm clothes and went for a wet and windy walk.
It was fun.

When they got back to the sleepy-van they were tired and wet and hungry,
So they had tea and cakes,
Which was nice.
Then, off they went again in the little sleepy-van.
They went up the hill and down the other side.
They went down the lanes 'til they got to ... a quiet place.

They found a friend, in a little pointy house.

He seemed nice, so they invited him for tea and cakes in the sleepy-van.
He brought another friend.
They were worried there might not be enough tea and cakes,
But there was,
Which was nice.

After tea the two friends went back to the pointy house,
Leaving the Famous Four to snuggle up together in the little sleepy-van and go to sleep.
It was very cosy.

In the morning, they woke ... and stretched ... and made some tea and toast.
Then they all put on warm clothes and went for a walk.
This time, it wasn't wet.
This time it wasn't windy.
It was really, quite nice.

They found some brackety, fungusy things, growing on trees.
They looked very interesting.

It was a lovely walk.

When they got back to the sleepy-van, the friends went for a snooze in their pointy house,
While the Famous Four ate tea and cakes ... quietly ... secretly.

But they saved some for their friends, who came and shared later.
They laughed ... and barked ... and told funny stories.
Then, as it got dark, the friends went back to the pointy house,
And the Famous Four snuggled up together in the little sleepy-van, and went to sleep ... again.

In the morning, they woke ... and stretched ... and made tea and toast.
Then they put on their warm clothes, and went for a walk ... again.

  

   

They ran and skipped and talked and laughed.
This time, it was a little bit warmer,
So, along the way, they had a picnic,
Which was nice.

Then they set off back to the sleepy-van ... and the pointy house.

And, of course, it was time for tea and cakes.
They'd had such fun.

But soon it was time to wave goodbye to their friends in the pointy house,
And set off, up the hill, and down the other side,
And along the lanes,
All the way back to their house in the valley.

When they got there, they were so tired,
They snuggled up together in bed and went to sleep,
Dreaming of their next adventure.


And our sincere condolences to all those who were affected by the events in Paris, while we were just having fun. Rest in peace and God bless.

Lightweight versus ultralight

Chrissie and I are in contact with lots of outdoorsy types via the internet and, of late, there does seem to be a trend emerging; a number of proponents of ultralight camping (I include both backpacking and cycle camping) seem to want to evangelise their thoughts and ideas. Now, I'll say first; it's a free world folks. If you want to travel light and fast then that's fine, and I'm grateful for hints and tips I pick up from time to time, but the worrying, nay irritating, aspect is how quick some are to criticise those who don't follow the ultralight creed. "WHAT have you got in that rucsac?", "... that jacket's WAY too heavy," being all-too-typical comments.

So, in response, a few thoughts of my own, from a lightweight, but not ultralight, traveler's perspective. Oh, and by the way, you really DON'T have to take any of them on board.

First, my experience. Well Chrissie and I started backpacking around 20 years ago. When we were both working we used to spend 3 weeks in the US each summer, exploring backcountry areas. We normally built our trip around a week long backpack somewhere wild. We've visited Yosemite several times, each time completing a week long trip into the wilderness. We've also backpacked in the Pacific Northwest, Wyoming's Wind River Range, the Grand Canyon, Mount Whitney, New England including the White Mountains, the Kenai peninsula in Alaska and Lake Superior's shoreline (one of our hardest trips!) as well as Algonquin in Canada. On most of these trips we got used to carrying up to eight days supplies, being in regions where resupplying wasn't an option. Although usually in the summer, we've experienced some pretty extreme weather; from desert conditions in the Grand Canyon to heavy snowfall in the Wind River Range.

In more recent years Chrissie's taken the lead in backpacking in the UK, while I've focused on cycle camping/touring, including an unsupported Land's End to John O'Groats ride last year. Increasingly though, I've been doing more backpacking here too, often with my dog, Tilly (a BIG chocolate lab).

In addition to all the above, without boring you with all our hillwalking exploits, Chrissie and I have, together, 48 years experience in mountain rescue teams. Latterly we were deputy team leader and team leader respectively for several years.

So let's start with the oft-quoted "big three"; rucsac, tent and sleeping bag.

First up, rucsac. I'm currently using an Osprey Xenith 75. Chrissie and I switched to Osprey rucsacs many years ago while travelling in the 'States, before Osprey were sold in the UK. At the time, they were a good bit lighter than the Karrimor and Berghaus sacs we'd been using. We've stuck with them ever since, primarily because they're comfortable when carrying a heavy load. They have a good range of pockets; my Xenith has two in the lid, one on each side of the hip belt and a couple of huge ones on the bag, which, after minor modification, can take a two person tent, enabling you to better organise your load. So, no, my rucsac isn't under the "magic" 1kg, but I can carry it, fully loaded, a long way, let's say 15 miles on a recent trip, without any discomfort.

Next, tent. Well, this is complicated since over the past twelve months we've upgraded our "stable" of tents. We'd been "mostly using" Terra Nova Voyagers in various incarnations for probably 15 years or more, without any problems, but recently decided to see if we could lighten the load a little. Hence, we now own a Hilleberg Enan, a Terra Nova Polar Lite 2 Micro and a Terra Nova Polar Lite 3. They are, respectively, one person, two person (or one plus dog) and three person (or two plus two dogs; we're dog-orientated in case you didn't realise). The Enan is a superb little tent, weighing only 1.1 kg and saw Chrissie well for 7 nights in arctic Sweden and me on a 3 night, autumn, coast to coast cycle recently. The funny thing about the Enan is, it weighs little more than a decent bivi bag yet has oodles of room for one, including plenty of space to cook in the porch. We've only tried the Polar Lite 2 Micro for one night each, but it looks good, has just enough space for two, pitches outer first and is a proper 4 season shelter; it weighs under 2 kg, including better pegs (MSR Groundhogs)., So it weighs up similar to our Voyager but has a higher spec. The Polar Lite 3 weighs around 3 kg but we'd never use it solo, so taking both our dogs gives us a load of around 1.5 kg each; less than our two person shelter, which we often use solo with one dog. Of course, there are lighter shelters out there, especially if you consider tarps, but I've noted how many add an inner to the tarp, making it like a tent anyway and, personally, I want a shelter which is easy to pitch in poor conditions and designed to stand up to foul weather, even if the wind changes in the middle of the night. 

And sleeping bag? Well, this is a personal thing I know but yes, I like to sleep without any clothes on, and I want to be warm and cosy. I don't own a synthetic bag but have three down ones. The most frequently used is a Rab Ascent 700 which is a wider-than-normal mummy bag, since I'm a restless sleeper. So, no, it's not light, but it's given me the best night sleep I've ever known when camping which, for me, is important. There may be a time when I need to add some clothing to keep warm but I'd prefer that to be an option, not a necessity.

Like many of you out there, we're always on the lookout for ways to reduce weight but, and here's the nub, we have an invisible line, over which we won't step. We want to be comfortable and secure in the knowledge that we're carrying everything WE think we need to stay safe and happy. We want trips to be pleasurable; challenging maybe, but not a test of hardship and endurance.

We're now both lucky enough to be retired and in good health, so there's hardly a day goes by without we're out with the dogs on the hills surrounding our Peak District home, regardless of weather. What this does mean is, notwithstanding the experiences related above, we do know what clothing systems work for us. Anything that doesn't come up to scratch gets relegated to the back of the wardrobe, sold or recycled via charities.

So, on behalf of all the non-evangelical, lightweight campers out there, be aware; there's room for different opinions, different ways of doing things. So, next time, before you think about shoving your sawn-off toothbrush sideways down my throat ... have a care; we're all outdoor enthusiasts, we ALL like getting out and doing it ... in our own way.

Hey ... don't take all this too seriously folks, just adding my thoughts to the mix, passing a damp, dreary afternoon here in Hayfield. Really not looking for an argument, but I'd be happy to hear your comments on here ... so long as they're not too shouty eh? Or I'll set my ferocious dog on yer!

Right, back to planning.

Smile and, above all ... enjoy!

24 hours on Kinder; a backpack plus disjointed thoughts and ramblings

I need to try the new tent, our third this year! Plus a proper test of new boots AND a new stove.

Chrissie drops us in Hope (that's Hope in Derbyshire not hope as in "... springs eternal") and we amble off up the road towards Edale, striking right after Townhead Bridge and on up the course of the Roman road to Hope Cross. It's looking seriously gloomy. Tilly's sporting her Ruffwear panniers.

I love my dog. Some of you will know, earlier this year I thought her walking days were over but here she is, three drugs a day but living life to the full again. The vet and her orthopedic surgeon say, "keep exercising her," so we do. She only has light, bulky stuff in her bags; warm coat for sleeping, bowl, towels, but she just loves it when I strap the panniers on. We're off on another adventure!

So we're away up over Crookstone Hill ...

... then up and up onto the far eastern edge path around Kinder's plateau; gloomy today but filled with atmosphere ... and murk.

We turn south west, following the edge path. Never been too familiar with this bit of Kinder so occasional glances at the Satmap help. Frustrated with specs which mist up if I leave them on, but can't see the screen without. Damn! Constantly retrieving them from pocket, wiping dry with hankie, only to be forced to return them as they cover with condensation again.

Confident canine, Tilly leads the way.

In the mist I notice the ground falling away to my right. Can't be right ... can it? Satmap reveals we're heading down the spur of Ringing Roger. Easy to cut across the moor and back onto the, proper, edge path. 

Now approaching the top of Grindsbrook the mist clears a little and there's a semblance of a view.

We cross Grindsbrook and pause for a snack. Tilly studiously guards my sac.

Reaching the ford across Crowden Brook we turn north, following the original route of the Pennine Way across the "featureless" plateau. In reality it's far from featureless but it's not the easiest of places to navigate. Recent reseeding by the wilderness police might be good environmentally but it's harder to follow the path now, thick grass blocking the way and masking old lines. The mini dams have made once-dry areas into, sometimes impenetrable, bogs. Tilly almost gets stuck a couple of times and I'm forced to make massive detours to follow a right-of-way.

Undaunted, Tilly forges ahead.

As we move on, my precious lab decides she's not done enough exercise, having walked over 9 miles at this point, and collects a weight training aid.

She's never been much of a one for small sticks.

We're heading for Kinder Gates, a feature very familiar from mountain rescue days, often being used as a RV point on searches across the plateau. I've been here many times in darkness ... in the foulest of weather. 

Today, it's 4.15pm and I stop to filter water from the shallow river before climbing up onto the moor again to find a likely place to camp. Pitching the tent, sorting mine and Tilly's sleeping mats, drying a wet, muddy labrador, we're inside ... cosy from the elements ... and it's dark. Headtorch out, brew on.

It was a gloomy evening, hence I took no photos of our latest new shelter. For completeness, here's one I took when we put it up on the front lawn a week or so back, fresh from delivery.

It's a Terra Nova, Polar Lite 2, Micro. Weighs around 1.9 - 2 kg (we've already added better pegs (MSR Groundhogs). It's two person, or, for us, one person plus dog, and will replace our much-loved Terra Nova Voyager. The Voyager is around the same weight but only 3 season, whereas the Polar Lite's a full, four season tent, designed for use in all weathers, including snow. It's also an outer-pitching first tent, which the Voyager isn't, so more practical for bad weather. It complements our other tents; a solo, 1.1 kg Hilleberg Enan and a three person 3.5 kg Terra Nova Polar Lite 3 (which we bought specifically for both of us plus two dogs). The Polar Lite 3 gives us a tent load of 1.75 ish kg each since we'd never use it solo, giving us a good selection of tents for all uses.

Back to the Polar Lite 2 Micro; we're planning on taking this to Sweden next summer, for a planned week in the arctic, following the first week of the Kungsleden (the King's Trail). Chrissie used it with Tilly last weekend, see here, so this is my turn. We're leaving the hounds with my daughter, Abi, in a couple of weeks and off up to the Howgills to try it together, just the two of us.

Being a classic tunnel tent, it's not self supporting, so, in my humble opinion, a degree of experience is required to erect it properly. Following Chrissie's jaunt we've already taken the silly, single guy off the front, which led to so much difficulty entering and exiting, especially with a 30 kg choccy lab, and replaced it with two guys, following the lines of the zips on each side of the door.

It's a little low for sitting up but my head touching the inner doesn't result in contact with the outer. The porch proved plenty big enough to cook in and me and Tills had plenty of room inside to stretch out. Once pitched nice and taut it presents a low, streamlined shape which should shrug off wind, rain and snow. It rained overnight and I managed to pack up inside the tent then remove the inner, which was totally dry and store that in a separate silnylon bag before dropping the flysheet. First impressions are good.

Next up, our new Jetboil Minimo. We've used MSR Pocket Rockets for years but technology's moved on and I was attracted to the idea of a more fuel-efficient stove. Our friend James has used one of these for a while now, so we took the plunge a week or so ago. This is the latest incarnation of the Jetboil series and boasts good simmering and a shallower, more user-friendly pan.

Again, for some inexplicable reason, I took no photos of the thing in use, so you'll have to make do with these "library" pics from home. I loved the design of the thing, even before using it. It packs up neatly, with cartridge support stored inside the lid and the burner assembly in a soft bag inside the pan. The handles fold out for use and are plastic covered metal, unlike the floppy fabric ones on earlier Jetboils.

It's not only a thing of beauty, it works well. I cooked my own recipe pasta meal from scratch, allowing the pasta to cook in the insulated, lidded pot after boiling, without any extra heat, and it produced boiling water for coffee and a porridge breakfast fast and with aplomb. Excellent!

Next on the review front, my Altberg Tethera boots have been comfy, watertight and secure, straight from the box. Not impressed with the orange Superfeet footbeds though; they're giving me aching soles and balls (of feet, silly). Gonna swap them, probably for Sidas 3 Feet High footbeds.

Finally, Chrissie bought me some Sea to Summit Feathertop gaiters for my birthday. We've had some trouble finding gaiters recently that are a. high enough and b. have elastic right around the bottom to aid water repellence. These have both and are proving comfy and water resistant so far.

So, back to our small adventure.

We awake to rain. Packed up efficently inside our shelter we set off down the river. Tilly is reinvigorated after her night's sleep and is off, splashing through the water like a pup ... she'll be seven soon.

Today's walk, back home to Hayfield is a different experience to yesterday. I'm on all-too-familiar territory now. The western side of Kinder formed part of my patch when I was first a team member and latterly team leader of Kinder Mountain Rescue Team. I not only know the terrain intimately, every turn reveals another memory of a callout. I don't need to look at a map, never mind the Satmap ... not here.

Tilly and I blaze confidently through the mist and drizzle. Past the Downfall, across Red Brook then to here:

The trig point at Kinder Low looks eerie in the gloom. Tilly looks pensive but she's never happier than out in the hills, camping or wandering; a true mountain dog.

We turn from the trig and march north, down the spine of Kinderlow End. On one very misty night I brought a small hill party up here to aid two middle aged couples who were lost. They'd mistakenly turned towards Kinderlow End instead of the route via Swine's Back to Edale Cross. Reaching the descent off the end they were alarmed at its angle and panicked. This morning I can see why. Standing at the top of the stony staircase it appears to descend away into an abyss, there being only a few metres visibility. It might spook me, if I didn't know it so well. That night, me and another team member took the arms of the two ladies and coaxed them down into the darkness. Our surefootedness and reassurance seemed to work and the four were soon in the warmth of a waiting Land Rover.

I have many memories of mountain rescue but left that world over eight years ago. Petty internal politics finished it for me, and Chrissie. For the final seven years I was team leader and Chrissie one of my two deputy leaders. Our lives were governed by MR work. I was angry when I left but it's in the past. I don't regret my time with MR but I don't miss it. I feel I did my bit; over 27 years. Freed of constraints, we now lead more relaxed fulfilling lives. Time moves on.

Tilly hops down the steep descent like a mountain goat, leading me to a gate near the bottom.

Visibilty is improved down here.

We gaze back at Kinderlow End; the top fading into the weather.

Then, we're off, down the track and back along the lanes to our home, in the village. Another night out, another couple of days of fun with my dog.

Life is good.