COOL RUNNINGS

Regular members of the congregation will know that I live in a bit of a rural idyll - a thatched cottage in a sleepy little dead-end road village on the banks of the Great Grey-Green Greasy Limpopo River.

Thatched cottages are great in the hot weather, as long as you know how to drive them. The thatch keeps it cool in the hot sunshine, but open the doors and windows on a hot day at your peril as then all the hot air comes pouring in and is then retained beneath the wonderful insulating blanket of the thatch, ensuring an uncomfortable night unless you vent upstairs by opening all the windows - and that can lead to unexpected visitors.

The undercut of the thatch is home to gargantuan spiders, daddy-long-legs and the biggest fattest nastiest mosquitoes known to man. And they all want to make a meal of you as you sleep.

Well, I left home in a bit of a hurry this morning for a day in Cambridge and foolishly left quite a few windows open. It was a scorcher of a day and I returned to a sweltering house.

There was no way I was going to sweat it out at home so I nipped upstairs and changed into some kit that hadn't seen the light of day for quite a few years; my running kit.

I made it round my local track - the 'Hemingford Round' only pausing for a few minutes to watch a Kingfisher flashing from his perch above the river, darting in the evening sunlight. I wasn't the mean, lean, running machine of twenty years ago - but I made it. There was hardly a breath of air, so jogging along actually felt cooler than standing still. The old Walsh PB's fell running shoes weren't ideal so I may try my old Mudrocs in a few days time.

By the time I arrived back at the cottage, it was still just as hot and humid, so I sat in the garden sipping a well earned pint of Olde English cider.

Quite perfick!

JURASSIC PARK

I have been following with interest the comments made on the lightweight debate over on Shirley's Place.

Shirley decided to leave the discussion over at Andy's Place because it seemed principally directed at a comment made in the TGO Challenge Final Report and she wanted to discuss the more interesting topic of lightweight kit and safety. She wrote an excellent piece and some contributors added greatly to the discussion in the comments made on the post.

Then up pops a gentleman, going under the nick-name of "Mike fae Dundee". I invite you now to pop over to the discussion and take a look at his third comment.

I thought the dinosaurs were extinct - but apparently not. We have a red in tooth and claw, real, alive here and now, dinosaur in this gentleman. Try it for yourself: After reading his third comment, Google "Mike fae Dundee" and see what you think!

I have posted this in my blog because I didn't want to clutter up Shirl's place with this sort of discussion.

WOEFUL BACKSLIDING

It's true. I am a miserable, woeful, shocking, backslider.

Having worn the new plimsolls around the house for a couple of days, I came to the dreadful conclusion that there was not enough room in the toe-box. So it was a trip this afternoon back into the less frequented part of Cambridge where the awfully nice pimply yoof who purports to be a shop-keeper (and is in fact a wonderful shopkeeper, despite his age and skin condition) very kindly took them back and gave me a refund as he did not have any other plimsolls that I liked in his emporium.

So with a heavy heart I meandered heavily back into 'proper' Cambridge and fixed on a beer and double espresso at Don's. Standing there, in my own little half-world, with the whole of Cambridge passing the doorway and Mario expertly coaxing his gargantuan Italian Espresso machine to make the most perfect coffee in the world, the sudden rush of caffeine hit my veins and I resolved to have another go. But this time, I would look in at my favourite outdoor emporium; Open Air.

An hour later I was jauntily clutching a new box of shoes for the great outdoors. Alas, even I could not describe the new beasts as plimsolls. They look like a traditional boot but are made from modern lightweight materials. They weigh 208 grams heavier than the Fastpackers, but they still give me a 265 gram saving per boot over the old faithful Scarpa Nepals. That's 9 ounces per foot. It's a step in the right direction, I suppose...

So - I am no longer a super dooper ultra-light gear fetishist. Sigh... They are jolly comfy though. And Lord Elpus will be happier with my choice too. Can't go frightening the horses all in one go now, can we?

So, a warm welcome to my new "Salomon Quest 4D GTX's" -that's another great mouthful, isn't it? I shall christen them "Slippers".

FOOT POUNDS

It's all his fault.

I blame Robin for this latest burst of super-ultralight spending binges. It's just that he was skipping along the Llyn Cowlyd Reservoir in his new plimsolls as I was clattering along in my Scarpa Nepals back in March in the Carneddau.

Now, I have been clattering along quite wonderfully for about three thousand miles now in my Scarpa Nepals. I am currently mid way through my second pair of these wonderful boots. In all those miles I have had only one tiny blister that lasted about two days on my LEJOG, due to a fold in the heel of my liner sock.

They have never let me down. This year, when it was absolutely bucketing down with rain on the Challenge I had dry feet, all the way across Scotland. They are sensationally well made, comfortable boots. Their only downside is that each boot weighs in at 970 grams. That is quite a lot. The rest of my kit has always been specifically selected for performance (first) and then, almost importantly weight, second.

It does not look like I carried this through with my selection of footwear.

So, I had a good look at Robin's bootie / plimsolls. He was delighted with them and they did look very light yet also very supportive. So I went with them.

So - A "Crackerjack!" Pencil to Martin Rye for guessing the new plimsolls - spot on, fella! They are jauntily known as "Salomon 3D Fastpacker Mid GTX". "Plimsolls" for short. Each plimsoll (size 10) weighs in at 498 grams - that's a massive saving of 468 grams per foot over my Scarpa Nepals! They are half the weight. They are comfortable straight from the box and have a wonderfully slim heel cup that grips my girly heels really well.

They come in a wonderful shade of dark grey (with those dashing golden flashes!) so sartorial elegance is maintained. My dainty ankles will be protected from those nasty sharp rocks. They don't "sing and dance", Gayle, but I am sure I can cover for their inadequacies.

We shall see how they do. I shall let you know.

As for the 'thong' suggestion "Anon", you can ask the real "super ultralight-weighters" about that! I am sure Ibbo will be along shortly with his dental floss shreddies!

MOWGLI'S ELEPHANTS

I cannot remember if it was Eric Shipton, Chris Brasher or Mowgli who wrote that one elephant on your feet is equivalent to ten elephants on your back, but whoever it was they had obviously never had their foot stood on by an elephant, let alone having carried ten of the blighters on their back. I know this as I once ran over my own foot with the fork-lift truck that I was driving. If a fork lift truck is heavy then my guess is that an elephant is even more so.

There has been a great deal of chatter about ultra-light gear over at Andy Howell's place. Having waded my way through his article and all the (currently) 69 comments, I thought that maybe, just maybe, it might be time to take stock of my entrenched, firmly held, indeed finely honed views, on footwear. Maybe it is time to have a re-think.

But I am an old dog and this could possibly lead to a new trick? Best tread carefully then.

I found myself in Cambridge this afternoon, in a bit of town I don't usually frequent. You know how it is - you see an outdoor shop - the golden haired sirens calling mesmerically. You cannot resist. You are dragged in, with all the will power of a lemming. Even the pimply yoof loitering about, purporting to be a shop-keeper, cannot dissuade you from examining, nay, fondling the goods. They are pretty things. Precioussssssss. Oh yessssssss.

And that's how I joined the super ultra-lightweight boys! I didn't know what I was doing. Honest, Phil!

A pair of new Plimsolls are now sitting on my desk as I type this.

HEBRIDEAN GOLD

Sat here, sitting on my settee, (the settee is my friend!) ce soir, I have mostly been drinking 'Hebridean Gold': A fine 'porridge oat and malt' ale from the Isle of Skye - a present from Rick and Lindsey.

It's been a great weekend - Friday night R&L arrive and bring with them one of Rick's dodgy old magnums of red (quite delicious) and supper!

Saturday; and Lindsey, Wilkinson and I stroll the Hemingford Round with a spot of lunch in the Oli Cromwell. Drinks in the garden in the deck-chairs and as I am preparing dinner, R&L and young Wilkinsod are sorting out the main flowerbed! Then Lord Elpus and Miss Whiplash arrive with a cracking pudding and a really pretty pudding wine.

All House Guests should be like this!

Today has been mostly spent doing six loads of washing!

But it's been worth it! Cheers, you lot!

DRYTECH REAL TURMAT MEALS: NEW DISTRIBUTOR

Regular members of the congregation will know that I do like decent food at the end of a day, often washed down with a nice glass of Gigondas to make the evening quite perfect!

For eight years or so I was dehydrating our Sunday lunches in my drier and packaging them up for use on my walking trips. Then came the time when I needed a huge amount of meals for my LEJOG and my wife, quite reasonably, refused to even contemplate the drier whirring away night after night for weeks on end!

My own experience of commercially produced dehydrated meals had been disappointing, at best! So I searched around and asked questions of my walking fiends. Then I found a few bright orange packs of Real Turmat Expedition Food at George Fishers in Keswick. I took them home and tried them.

They were absolutely scrummy! I rang Fishers to see if they could sort me out with thirty or so packs but they were currently out of stock and they suggested I tried an online retailer, where I successfully bought enough for my LEJOG. They were gorgeous.

Well now there are two online retailers for Real Turmat Foods: The present retailer: Charlie at Extreme Outdoor Food has now been joined by a new kid on the block:

Chris at Outdoors Grub Ltd

Have a look at both sites - You will not be disappointed as the Real Turmat Food is by far and away the best commercially available dehydrated meals I have ever come across! It ain't cheap - but value for money is sensational.

BALANCE

It's all about balance.

From one perspective, having a dodgy ear can be a good thing, as Mark Alvarez has pointed out to me. On the other hand though it does lead to minor complications.

On Saturday morning, after packing the rucksack in virtually winter conditions (a very unpleasant cold, northerly wind with lots of stinging rain) I was dashing over to Phil's car for a bit of shelter as he made his final preparations to depart for our day's walk. I had just been on my hands and knees rolling up the tent and dodged over to the car as a sprinter out of his blocks. The effort of standing up into the teeth of the wind and rain, the complete lack of balance induced by the dodgy right ear and a very large, somehow unseen, very slippery rock all combined to create a balletic pirouette and a resounding thwack of my left hip on the said very hard unforgiving slippery rock.

Lord Elpus and I had already ruled out the Old Man as impractical given the general weather conditions and had set our sights on the more attainable stroll over to Coniston via the Walna Scar Road (that's a Landrover track, not a metalled road); a good enough test, we believed of Phil's recovery from radiotherapy only three weeks previously. He is still on all sorts of other weird and wonderful treatments as well, just because he likes the nurses over at Addenbrookes Hospital. They just cannot get enough of him.

At this point, we were joined by Shirl and her 6 month old border terrier, Piglet.

Well Phil did okay but the radiotherapy and current treatments have played havoc with his stamina and when he came to a halt 1300 feet up the side of Brown Pike we could see that the fellow had had enough of this nonsense. The weather was pretty poor and it was a good deal worse further on, so we devised a cunning plan whereby he could stroll back down to his car and pootle around the hill on heated seats and meet us in Coniston. We got the balance about right. I am sure that in kinder weather he would have made it, but let's be sensible - there's no point in damaging anything, is there? We escorted the war-horse down to the tarmac and then set off once more up into the nasty weather.

Lord Elpus & The Walna Scar Road in more benign weather

You will have seen from before that we all met up successfully in Coniston and enjoyed a convivial time in various hostelries, set up just for the purpose of customers enjoying copious libations of thought juice.

The following day, as reported before, was a far better balanced day, with just the one stroll, mostly in the morning in fine weather, taking in stepping stones over the River Duddon and the fine pub at Seathwaite: The Newfield Inn.

Shirl & Piglet, finely balanced.

A smashing weekend with Phil, Piglet & Shirley - all great characters.

THE NEWFIELD INN: SUNDAY LUNCH

Back again, this time with Phil, Shirl & Piglet after a bit of a stroll, this time without the small houses on our backs.

We had a walk centred around the River Duddon, taking in rocky gorges and beautiful riverside woodland in dappled sunshine. The star of the show was definitely the dog ~ a six month old border terrior who is utterly tireless and game for absolutely everything; swimming in the Duddon (was she pushed?) rock climbing and eating sheep-poo.

Lord Elpus managed the whole thing today and looked far more chipper ~ it's still only a few weeks since his radiotherapy and he is getting back to fighting fit. He is currently fighting his way through a pint of Ennerdale, so things are definitely on the up.

...BUT SOMEONE'S GOT TO DO IT

Sitting in a pub in Coniston, reunited with Lord Elpus ~ but more about him later.

It's actually sunny out there, Captain, which is in stark contrast to the weather earlier in the day when we walked Walna Scar Road one and a half times ~ but more about that later.

It was very wet, very cold and very blowy up there. The WSR is a motorway with the occasional cruelly steep climby-bit that takes your lungs away and replaces them with vinegar soaked brown paper bags. Perhaps it was more like Jennings soaked brown paper bags. Could be.

Anyway, we made it here and are now supping Bluebird Ales having polished off a pretty good haddock and chips. My phone is almost dry once more. The twenty pound notes are now separated too.

THE NEWFIELD INN, DUNNERDALE

Its five o'clock and its pouring down with rain, but Lord Elpus and I are in the Newfield Inn in Dunnerdale on our second pint: "Sneck Lifter" and its very tasty; perfect winter ale ~ strong and malty ~ as it's winter out there ; 7 degrees C and raining stair rods.

Darren has texted saying that it looks like he can't make it tonight and then in the same beath said snow was forecast....

So it's just the rufty tufties left then Big D!

Speaking of rufty tufties, we are to be joined tomorrow by Piglet the Wunderhund and her mistress Shirl ~ who knows a thing or two about mountains in crappy weather as she shimmied off on the second day of the Challenge (the worst weather day of the Challenge) to go climbing Munroes with the mad and bad Caburn Chamberlain.

So if Shirl's reading this it's raining and just 7 degress C and very wet: As Darrren said ~ Perfect Challenge weather!.

MONO's GOOD...

Today I am listening to everything in Mono. Stereo is so passe!

I took up this retro-fascination yesterday night: In a blinding flash at just after midnight I was suddenly wide awake in bed with an incredibly sore head and an amazing pain in my right ear. In minutes the pain then grew unbearable as though there was a thick rubber balloon about to explode in my head - and then it did.

I held my hand up to this loud whooshing noise in my ear and my hand was soaked in blood! It was trickling out of my ear!

All this was a bit alarming so I made a quick phone call to 'NHS Direct' (I found the number on the web, whilst blood was trickling down onto my neck) and gave exactly the same details to the first person I spoke to as the second person - this time a 'nurse'.

I was not to panic, take some ibuprofen and go back to bed, bloody ear-side down on the pillow.

My pretty ace GP saw me this morning, and confirmed I had made a really good job of perforating my ear drum, right in the middle with quite a big hole - all down to an ear infection that I thought had been a spot of hay-fever. I have a whole load of antibiotics which should sort out the cause and then I am to let nature take it's course and with a bit of luck all should be healed up in a couple of months time.

Ho hum. Feeling fine though, all the same!