75,000 PEOPLE CAN STILL BE WRONG

Back in April I wrote that this blog had had 50,000 visitors since I had started counting them. One, two, three, etc - you get the picture. Well another little milestone has been reached.

75,000 visitors. Since April 14th of those additional 25,000 visits 8,000 of them were unique visitors (ie, different people). Of the 25,000 visits, they looked at 47,660 pages of the blog - that's about two pages per visit. It also means that an awful lot of the congregation keep coming back for more. Some (twenty nine, indeed!) have signed up as "Followers" of the blog (you can do that too if you so wish - it's nice for me to see who is dropping by) so say 'hello' to me and let me know who you are and "follow" me too! It's up there at the top right of the blog.

So, what are they coming for?

Well some of them (a surprisingly large number actually) have been searching for articles on Bruised Buttocks. But most have been looking for stuff on walking. They must have gone away so disappointed.

This is not a 'Big Blog' You have to write about politics or cooking or sex to have a Big Blog. Or you could be Weird Darren and have a humongously huge following as he is a True Blog Megastar.

It's not really about walking. It's not really about life. I don't know quite how to categorise it. It's just there, on the screen for anyone who is remotely interested.

Thank you for staying with me.

BLOODY GREAT LEGS

It's one of Lord Elpus's favourite sayings: "My wife has great legs: Bloody Great Legs..."

Not wishing to cast aspersions on the Masterful Miss Whiplash, (I always let Phil partake of the pleasures of her punishments) what I can say is that for the first time in quite a few years I can feel my legs. When I say 'feel' what I should say is that they are currently seizing up and are complaining like crazy. I am to be found, sat sitting on my settee (TSIMF) watching the telly display the beautiful landscapes of Patagonia, drooling over the wide open spaces.

But it's the legs! They are doing little twinges and jumps - the laptop is fair bouncing about! You see - even with a blog title of 'Alan Sloman's Big Walk' the horrifying truth is that I have not been out for a single stroll since September!

And now I am paying for it. Phil has been out doing about twenty miles a week under the stern tutelage of Miss W. Yesterday was three months since he was on the operating table having large organs removed from his interior. It was also three months since Lynnie moved out, so we were both pondering over those months in the quieter times of the walk.

Talking of bloody great legs, to lift our spirits, young Felix Edward surged on ahead with his Raidlight Rucksack and very flashy running shoes, (soon to be completely smothered in wonderfully gooey Cambridgeshire Clay). He does have bloody great enormous legs that seem to go all the way up to his armpits.

After an incredibly muddy eight miles or so and a staggering ascent figure of 97m (that's over 300 feet!), we finally got back to the cars to slump comfortably into the seats. The Osprey Exos was a little honey and I am slowly disciplining her to my ways. I will let you know more about her in a later post.

MARATHON DES SABLES

Whatever possessed him I do not know.

Maybe it is a genetic problem. If it is, then Lord help him, really, as then there is a chance he will also inherit the gout, the arthritis, the high blood pressure and the completely screwed kidneys. (I suppose that could explain why he is also a ruggedly handsome chap, tall, lean and mean).

My youngest boy, Felix Edward, has for some insane reason decided to take on the Marathon Des Sables. This is a gargantuan running race in the Sahara Desert in southern Morocco, lasting six days, with distances that make your feet ache and hips grind just contemplating them. This young fella is a bit of a sportsman - he captained the boat at Oundle, got his colours at Exeter and has recently been pounding the streets of Stockholm in their marathon, so mental toughness is there in spades already. Somehow, I think that will be called on in huge quantities as the following stats will show.

Day 1: 25km (a warm up?)  Day 2: 34km (getting into it now), Day 3: 38km (a bit of pressure then),  Day 4: 82km (What!!!! is he mad???) Day 5: 42km (that's if they are still on their feet) and Day 6: 22km for the deliriously insane.

This weekend we are meeting up for a spot of lunch at Don's and then to go through the kit list - it looks surprisingly like the stuff I would normally take on a weekend thrash along the South Downs, but with the addition of huge water carrying systems and lots of body lubricants. He is off the booze, drinking fizzy water and is also coming out for a walk on Sunday with Lord Elpus & Miss Whiplash to help ease me back into the ways of the walking world.

However the lad is not all grit, determination and toughness - he was also the President of the school wine society, so maybe the Sloman genes have been passed on down the line.

He is flying off to Morocco on the 26th March. I will let you know how he gets on.

WELL & TRULY VETTED

It's true. Lord Elpus and I have been well and truly vetted - in the first case by our 'official' vetter and in the second by our 'unofficial' vetter.

Now our first vetter (the 'official' one) is a Flying Dutchman - well - he's Dutch and he flies along. I have had the pleasure of walking with Bert on a number of occasions - we both started challenging back in '95, when Bert binned his uncomfortable boots after a few days and bought a new pair of KSB's in Ft Bill to carry on with. He is built like a racehorse and does routes that make your eyes water and nose bleed. But apart from that, he is married to a wonderful woman who ensures that he does take the occasional drink to slow him down to warp speed to allow lesser mortals to cling on to his laces to keep up.

Bert has made some helpful comments:"You will hardly meet any Challengers for about a week before and after Inverness"... Sounds like a lovely walk then...   "Occasional very wet and boggy sections for two days" followed by "occasional very wet and boggy bits".

It all sounds terrifyingly familiar to Phil's usual routes then...

Our second 'unofficial' vetter has just sent us his own route. This chap has a reputation for cheerfulness and being happy in his own skin. We seem to be passing a few hostelries at the same time. Let's just hope he remembers his shorts as there is one particular hotel at Dinnet where I have only just been allowed back - it would be terrible to be barred again! Hopefully his wonderful wiff will keep him on the straight and narrow. The Scots are a charming race well known for their hospitality but even they cover up their naughty bits with the kilt.

A LAMPETER LASS AND A LEASH

Ooh! A New 'Follower' of my blog.

I don't often comment on the good people who comment and follow me on my blog but I feel that in this instance a lady deserves a special mention.

Sophie Easterbrook and Patch are to set off on a JOGLE - that's a John O' Groats to Lands End walk of about 1200 miles. Sophie is married and hails from Lampeter and is taking one of her canine companions 'Patch' with her on her walk. This is what she says about herself:

"In June 2009 my trusty hound, Patch, and I are backpacking from John O' Groats to Lands End. We will walk around 1200 miles in about 3 months without support - I will be carrying my own tent and supplies and will be unaccompanied. Please support us by visiting www.justgiving.com/longestdogwalkinbritain to donate - every little helps!!"

What with one thing and another recently I have been a little late in finding out about her impending stravaig. There's not a lot of time left for her planning and she is currently battling with the usual stuff - electronic mapping, GPS's and getting the weight of her pack down to something approaching possible! She's not a big girl so getting the weight down is quite important.

Let's follow her endeavours and give her as much support as possible - Okay? Let's see her Blog stats go through the roof please and then pop over to her 'Just Giving' site and support her.

Good luck, Sophie (and Patch, too)

HURLY BURLY

A cracker of a day in London yesterday - a smashing spot of lunch in a great Thai restaurant in Greek Street, then a wander over to Convent Garden to go clothes shopping. Looking for some down ski gloves, we popped in to Ellis Brigham. Now skiing isn't my 'thing' so I strolled over to the camping section and found a new baby!

Yes - I am a gear monster - I admit it. Yet another rucksack - another little love affair with a new little honey. She comes in beneath a kilo and is 46 litres with a full frame and air mesh back system. So let me introduce you all to my New Osprey Exos 46. Isn't she pretty?

More clothes shops were visited and then it was back to Soho for a slap up feed once more in another restaurant in Greek Street. All quite splendid. Then off to the real event of the day, Hurly Burly at what used to be the old Raymond Revue Bar. Even more splendid! Then partying after until the wee small hours.

We get back home at 3:30am. Knackered and happy.

This morning Lord Elpus has sent off our TGO Challenge route for vetting - a corker of a route.

All in all: A bloody marvelous weekend.

THE BEST LAID PLANS

Being a bit of a Complete and Utter Lazy Bastard, I have woefully let my fellow stravaiger down yet again. Have I lost count of how many Challenges Phil has had to organise? Maybe not - but it's a few too many.

Anyway, we lined the route in together a few months back but Phil has done all the hard work and has finished our route across from Torridon to Dunottar Castle with a few extra more inspired selections thrown in. But there is more! He has also done an alternative route for the second half of the walk from Inverness. Such dedication to the cause is quite wonderful.

Tonight we picked the preferred option and so tomorrow Phil should have our route winging its merry way to Challenge HQ (Uncle Roger, that is and his magnificent bevy  of Venerable Vetters)

In all the Challenges we have done (either separately - yes we have done Challenges without each other - or together) we have never failed to complete any of our walks. There have been quite a few epic struggles to achieve this fine record, but surely that is what the word 'Challenge' means?

This year's walk looks to be one of the best yet - with quite a few deliberately lonely bits (and, quite cleverly some of it will be on trade routes but at times when no-one else will be there) as we both need time to reflect on the year, for different but very personal reasons. Towards the end we rejoin the happy band of Challengers to once more 'party' in the accustomed style.

So - it's time to think about getting a few walks in again - otherwise the boy will be at the east coast days before me.

TEN YEARS YOUNGER

It's about moisturiser, apparently.

It's not about beards, new glasses or 'matte paste' for your hair. All these things might, just, explain why the ladies of the Axe may have gathered round to help with my current marital predicament. But no.

With the asbestos on my current project, which has caused me to to keep the noble 'Sloman Jaw' unencumbered by the snuggly facial hair so familiar of the last two decades (well, almost), my smooth, and it has to be said, slightly jowly features, have been gracing the bar at the Axe & Compass for the last two months. Apparently, I now look 'Ten Years Younger.'

No surgery has been involved in this new stunning look. No anaesthetists, surgeons, nurses or green suited porters have been attached to my well-being for the last forty-eight hours. I have been allowed home after just a few pints of Black Sheep - but I am now an amazingly ten years younger than when I entered the pub a few months ago. There are no facial swellings. There is no bruising. I am allowed to drive my car and, if they are available to me, then sexual relations are allowed.

My Christmas Presents included Very Expensive (and the capitals are important here...) moisturisers to smooth my newly shaven cheeks, neck and any other parts of my body that might be displaying signs of stress in this modern world in which we live, so that once more they are transmogrified back to the state of my youth.

It must have worked, as Chicken Dave tonight remarked how youthful I am now looking.

Result!

ALAN AND PHIL DRINK TO BRITAIN

I am currently to be found sitting on my settee, as the settee is my friend, watching, for a change, some great telly! It's "Oz & James drink to Britain" - Oz Clarke and James May travelling Britain and Ireland to discover the drinks on offer.

It brings to mind my impending adventure with Lord Elpus. Last Sunday found the pair of us (and Lynnie) sitting in a fine establishment in Grantchester poring over his print-outs of our preliminary route across Scotland for our TGO Challenge.

Due to my current penchant for struggling across the country and back every day to go to work, combined with cooking culinary triumphs for Lynnie (well, one culinary triumph anyway) I have had very little time (okay - no time at all in fact) to do the necessary work required to string a route together with Phil for our walk. The worst of it all is that, as so-say "experienced Challengers," we are expected to get our completed route sheets into Uncle Roger by the end of this month. So Phil has once again taken up the wonderful burden of weaving a golden thread across Scotland from Torridon for us both. He is a wonderful chap.

Now, Phil is a bit of a perfectionist and when I raised a querying eyebrow about the huge ox-bow in the route to the east of Inverness, he smiled Oz Clarke-ishly, explaining that by taking this 'slight detour' our route took in another two distilleries.

"Another two" distilleries.

Reading between the lines here, that must mean that there'll be other distilleries on the route! Looking at the said route, they must be Speysides - which will make a change for us - as we have become rabid, slightly over-focused lovers of the west coast malts - ooh - and the Hebridean ones as well. And we must not forget the really great ones from Ireland either. Or that amazing Thai "Scotch Whisky" I discovered a few years back that was oft confused with diesel.

I'll get my coat.