Carl's "Live" RAB TGO Challenge 2012 Map

Below is a link to a live map which I hope will be dynamically following my progress as I walk across Scotland over the next couple of weeks.  Please don't go calling mountain rescue if the little line doesn't move very far.  It doesn't mean I have come a cropper, it just means I have not been able to get signal, couldn't get a beacon out, have no battery, or couldn't be arsed to drop a beacon anyway.


I hope the wiggly line keeps you amused, and if you see it wobble after Braemar as Phil says in the comments below, raise a glass with me, I'll be on my second!


Cheers!

The Stuff of 177 Miles

I know there have been many posts about challenge kit, and several probably for this year.  I may not be adding anything new, anything interesting, but I wanted to illustrate here how my kit choice has changed since my first post about my kit here.  I haven't put weights in because I am bored with weights and measures.  This is the stuff I have decided I will need.


This is Kitlist v2.0

So a list it is - I'll go roughly left to right as though following text in a book:


One pair of trekmates liner gloves (silk) 
One pair of karrimor outer gloves (synthetic)
One midgie headnet
Two standard buffs
Drybag with loo kit
Bag of tablets (various)
First Aid Kit
Spoon (long handled)
Stove/Pot combined
2 x 100g gas canisters
Brew kit
Silicon collapsible cup
Waterproof Overtrousers
Down Jacket
Little stow-away sil-nylon bag
Maps (all of them - the whole way across)
Contact lens kit (including mirror)
Tub of smash
Bag of muesli
Small folding knife
Small headtorch
Small tentpeg (should be in the tent bag)
Compass & spare (not in case it breaks, in case I lose it!)
Simple GPS Unit
Hygiene kit
 - Small bar of soap
 - Tea Tree Oil
 - Small anti-perspirant (I know everyone will smell at the end, but I will smell slightly different)
 - Midge repellent
 - Sunscreen
 - Toothpaste & toothbrush
Gadget charger
Nokia mobile (with a seemingly endless battery life)
1 x Nokia battery (lord knows why, the original will never run out)
Food (4 days worth)
Bubblewrap toner bags (one for a meal cosy, the other for my kindle)
Tiny backup stove - for woodburning
Tent
Sit-mat
Toilet trowel
Wiping sponge (condensation control and spillages)
Stuff sacks (for segregating kit - like you need to have that explained)
Notepad & pen
Sleeping quilt
Sleeping pad
Water bottles
Whisky bottle
One Balaclava
Two pairs pants
Two pairs of thin day socks
One pair warm night socks
Pair of windproof bottoms - lightweight
e-Reader
Two baselayer-tees
One windproof jacket - lightweight
Trekking poles
Not in the photo
Waterproof jacket (old XCR one)
TGO Fleece (hasn't arrived yet)
Camera (I was using it)
Smartphone (it was charging - like they all probably are, most of the time)
Smartphone batteries (x3)
Rucksack - 44l
Chest pack - 4l




So that's it.  Everything I need - apart from what I will be wearing which will be a pair of trousers, underpants, socks, tee-shirt - and probably all the warm and wet weather gear from the above!


Go on, slate me for taking too much, and leaving stuff out - whatever, but most of all....


....PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME CHANGE MY MIND!!!!!!!!!

Finally!! Wanders from Wonderland.

After a few miles of forest walking we arrived at Wonderland.  


'Penguin' Pete Fretwell and I had set off after work on Maundy Thursday for a 2-nighter.  The forecast was good for a day or so, and we quickly pitched our tents and explored one of the most fantastic parts of East Anglia that I know.  It was great to have a really good look around this 'Brecky' place without the usual constraints of having to be back at the car to drive home.  We spotted several deer, three species in fact.  An distant Harrier, MArsh or Hen, I couldn't be sure - not a clear enough view.  Stone-Curlews were about, plus the odd Curlew.


We returned to our shelters as the light faded, dined and shared whisky.  Venus was high in the sky, as was Mars - unfortunately both were dimmed somewhat by the incredibly bright, and almost full, Moon.


I tried for one of those arty wildcamp shots again, and almost got it.

Me, trying to do a first-class blogger photo, and only making steerage.

That is Venus in the Western sky to my left.


It was due to be chilly, possibly even freezing so I took my down jacket and 3-season quilt with me.  I was thankful I had.  


Pete had elected to use a bivy bag which he had borrowed from a pal given the good forecast, I was in my single-hoop tent.  We both lay half in and half out of our respective shelters gawping up at the sky.  We spotted a good few satellites and Pete copped a glimpse of a meteor - lucky bugger.


This is Pete.

Pete: His bivy is in this shot too.

Pete drifted off to sleep and I began to get too cold outside my tent.  I wriggled back inside and sent frost showering from the rolled-up door.  It was well frozen.  I checked my writswatch, which I had removed earlier.  -4.0c  I left it in the porch and popped off a couple of tweets lamenting my location.  Envious replies rebounded from the twittersphere - I love that.  I was getting my own back. 


The whisky was getting the better of my eyelids.  Just before I turned in, I checked the wristwatch, it flickered and died as I hit the 'light' button.  Just as it faded, I read the temperature.  At 2230h it was -5.0c.  


I had a chilly night, the quilt barely kept me warm through the early hours before dawn.   Sleep was shallow, but sufficient.  As I woke, very cold.  I waited for the light to build sufficiently for ablutions.  It couldn't come quick enough so I put on the head torch and headed out.  This errand for abdominal relief was too cold.  I was chilled to the bone.  Baring one's behind in Winter is not a task to be taken lightly - even in East Anglia.


I returned to my tent and took a slurp of water - a few drops left the bottle and hit my tongue.  The bottle was solid.  I checked my water bag - worse still.  The whisky was still liquid, but I was thirsty so I brought my bottle in my bag with me and put the water bag inside my jacket.


I was cold so I went for a short run in the early light to get the blood flowing.  It helped little, but did help.  Pete stirred in his bivy, which was covered in ice.  His pack was too, totally covered in a coating of frost.  A few warm drinks and we were up and exploring.  It would be an hour or so before the light was high enough to the thaw the shelters.  

Pete: Visible this time

Wonderland is a fabulous place to be at the most usual of times - but at first light with clear skies under a rime of frost it is truly splendid.


The rest of this part of the day is largely explained with the photographs.  

I saw this and thought "that's pretty special".  It was both.

Red Deer grazing.

No apologies for lack of sharpness - this image, I love.

A small herd of Roe Deer, and my tent in the distance.  It is there, honest.

After breaking camp, Pete and I emerged at the Elveden Monument and the busy A11.  The tea-wagon's gravitational pull had its effect and I passed Pete one blackened, and frozen banana.  It was fine inside, so I ate the other.  Not wanting to sit with crowds, we crossed the road - eventually - and set off through a mix of Breckland and farmland towards Gazeley.  We had made a note of all of the bird species we had encountered and were approaching 40 by now, some really special ones too.  Still no Swallows.


We planned to stop at Icklingham for a pint and some grub at one of the two pubs.  They were both closed.  We had also planned to take our time through Cavenham Heath.  But a phone call ahead to The Fountain at Tuddenham had us hot-footing it.  We had 3 miles to walk inside of 45 minutes.  Two birders stopped us to discuss their sightings, we tried not to be rude as we cut them short and upped tempo across the Heath into Tuddenham.  A local appeared with his small boy "which way to the Fountain?" I asked.  "Fountain?  A pub?" he replied.  "It's called the Fountain" I asked.  "Yes.  Is it a Pub you are talking about?" the gentleman urged me to answer.  To me it was obvious, I was famished, and desperate for a pint.  Yes, a bloody pub, I thought.  My reply censored the expletive.  I was tunnel visioned, and on a mission.  He said there was no pub called the Fountain in Tuddenham.  He - probably reluctantly - pointed us in the direction of a different pub and we left him.  I can't even remember thanking the chap.  I regret that.  


Pete and I reached the pub, The White Hart.  It was open, and serving meals.  We swapped elated faces - and shook hands - 2 minutes to final food orders!


Ham egg and chips, a chilli-con-carne and a couple of pints of ale were consumed greedily.  I checked with the staff to find out where the Fountain was.  Tuddenham St Martin apparently, out Ipswich way.  We were in Tuddenham St Mary, which was not out Ipswich way.

Pete: Approaching Elveden Monument

Me: Approaching Elveden Monument

Hebridean Sheep, by Icklingham

Another.

Farmland and dwindling heath sucked us back out of the pub and we crossed under the A14 to make our way through Herringswell to Gazeley.  The bird list had reached 48 by this time.  Not a bad result for early in the migration season.


We sat a while at the Chequers, which was closed, awaiting Pete's wife - Ellie.  She didn't take long to arrive and I waved Pete off knowing I only had a mile or so to my intended camp spot for the night.  I tried to get water at the local churchyard - but only a waterbutt was available.  I decided to approach a local couple just returning to their house after a stroll.


"Hi there, would you mind topping this bottle up with water for me?"  The lady looked at me.  There was hatred in her eyes.  "You want me to fill that for you?".  "Yes please, if you don't mind - that is."
The lady snatched the bottle from me, eyeballing me for the second time.  I was confused.  Normally this is a straighforward task.  The gentleman turned his back on me and walked towards his house.  I forced conversation. "I'm walking the Icknield Way for a while".  "We've just done that."  He replied, glancing over his shoulder.  "What all of it?"  I asked.  "The Three Churches walk" he added.  "Ah yes, I've done that.  Lovely isn't it?".  Nothing.  Silence ruled for a while - where was my bottle?  Then the chap quizzed me - are you camping?  I thought quickly "No, I am being picked up somewhere around Dalham or Lidgate." I didn't want him to scupper my plans of camping on private land.  My story wouldn't be too believable.  There were only a couple of miles to go and I had just asked for a bottle which was only a third empty to be filled up.  He didn't twig.  "Have you come far?" "Where do you live?" "What's your name?" "Who is picking you up?".  I was being interrogated.  Suddenly the spotlight was switched off and the barrage of questions relented as the lady returned with my bottle.  I thanked the couple and left them.  "Looks like rain" he closed.  Bastard!


As I left the village, I spotted a few home-printed signs.  I drew closer and read one of them 'There have been 3 burglaries in the village within a week.  Be on your guard.'  or words to this effect.  My irritation at the couple turned to regret.  It all made sense.  


I passed a few other evening walkers as I neared my pre-selected location.  Each of them asked if I was camping and my lies continued.  "No, just a few more miles and I am getting picked up". 


My camp spot - selected by OS mapping and Midsummer memories of The Three Churches walk - was less than useless.  I was too early and none of the undergrowth had any leaves.  I had hoped to duck into the thickness of the vegetation and disappear from passers by.  I could see through the band of trees right to the other side and the fields beyond.  This wouldn't go.  I would be seen by all those folk to whom I had bullshitted a while earlier.  They were sure to tip off a local and I'd be moved on.  I decided to walk on to find a more secluded spot.


It started to rain - a divine and righteous act of punishment for my damnation of the cautious couple, I thought.  Through Dalham, and out the other side hunting for a spot.  Nothing.  I was on the road so I picked a public footpath to take me away and through a spinney.  Result - not perfect, but pretty good.  Thick cover on three sides.  No properties in view.  As far as man-made items are concerned, only a distant transmission tower could be seen.  

Reasonable stealth-camping spot

I was by a dried up river - The Kennett - devoid of water on account of the lack of rainfall in this, a drought year.  I pitched and settled for the night.  I had to wake early and get walking.


5am on Easter Saturday I was awake and had eaten, abluted and broken camp by 6am (the same day ;-D).  I was on a mission to get home, as early as possible, to see my family.  I had decided that my route would follow a track past a transmitter to reduce the miles of busy A-road walking.  I hoped I could get onto it as it was not a right of way.
It turned out to be accessible but clearly marked as private property, with "Trespassers will be Prosecuted"connotations.  I thought "sod it" and walked around the huge metal fences and along the track to emerge in the little village of Hundon without incident.


As I approached the trig-point marked on the map I noticed something was up, or rather - not up.  The trig was lying on it's side as if picked out from a distance by a long-range sniper.  It was dead.  

Trig - taken out

The second such  a corpse as I had seen in as many months.  See below for the other, which is just 2.27 'crow flight' miles away...

Another, earlier, trigonometrical fatality.

Pissed off, I harrumpfed away from the corpse of the pillar across a field of crops.  Within moments I was  thankfully distracted by the big ol' Suffolk sky.

Suffolk sky

 And then the lovely green lines of grain crop - Barley?

Suffolk crop

And then a golden burst of sunshine through the grey.  It lit up a crop of Rape quite nicely, I thought.

Suffolk Rape (thankfully, this is not a headline)

My walk was drawing to a close.  Within an hour or so I was turning my key in the door and clutching my kids in my arms.  I had a hug with Mrs M, who screwed her face up anticipating the funky, post-walk sniffiness I might emit.


I had had a largely lovely walk, with good company for the first day.  I had tested my kit, finding only that my pack was just a tad too small for all of my gear plus the extra bits I would carry on the challenge.  So now a new pack is in my hallway which is much better and will be coming with me in May.  Only the fourth pack I have tried since deciding to apply!  Practice makes perfect.


Hope you enjoyed the read, it was good to write it up.  A shame to finish really, but my back is aching from sitting in my armchair and using the netbook on a coffee table.  Hope I can get up.

Coming up... ...Wanders from Wonderland

My challenge preparations unfortunately lack much hill work which I am sure to pay for when it is crunch time.  I am putting the distance work in though and my next post will be a full write up of my latest backpacking outing involving some East Anglian stealth camping.  For now, here is a taster...

News from my vetters - the route is on!

Tonight I received my vetters' comments following my route submission.  Thanks to my research and help, once again, from new found friends the route was completely acceptable to my vetters.  I had made a few bloopers with grid refs, and on one day I had my direction as Southwest when I was actually heading Southeast but apart from that I am now officially good to go.


Here is an overview of my route from Strathcarron to St Cyrus.

Just want to say a special thanks to Alan Sloman and Dave Wood for the advice/assistance in tidying up my route.  You just can't beat talking to folk who have walked the walk, can you? 

Mother Nature gets the Bunting(s) out.

I took a walk this weekend.  Not, this time, with my good pal Den (aka The Dude), but with a new buddy.
Some of you may know Dave Wood from either the challenge or his occasional musings on Twitter.  You can read his blog here http://davewoodwalks.blogspot.com/ .

It's always a bit of a gamble walking with someone you don't know, but from various online conversations and exchanges Dave seemed like an ok guy with whom I could go for a hike.  Dave is a backpacker and also a keen birder too.  He has completed 5 TGO Challenges, one of which was last year, so he has had his fair share of nasty conditions with which to contend.

We'd arranged to meet at a service station on the A1 and we headed up to Lakeland together from there.  Grange was our target and after a brief, and rainy pause in Keswick for some supplies and a breakfast, we reached Grange to a much drier sky.  The air was breezy, and not too cold.  The lower tops were clear of cloud, and the weather was forecast to be sunshine and showers, turning wintry later.



Dave looking back to King's How on Grange Fell

 After leaving the car, and a very short road walk Dave and I primed our trekking poles and began the ascent onto Grange Fell.  Dave set off at quite a pace, and I thought I'd got myself an incompatible walking buddy - the sort that can go as fast uphill as on the flat.  Thankfully, we took in views often enough for my lungs to catch up until my body got back into the swing of things.  The weather until now was quite reasonable, but the clouds began to form, coming in from Langstrath heavy with precipitation.

After leaving the top of the King's How summit of Grange Fell we headed onto Brund Fell, Grange Fell's main summit.  I think it was then that the weather was transformed from breezy and actually quite nice, to absolutely blooming awful.  Wind driven, tiny pieces of hail pelted our faces, stinging even through the hood of my jacket.  Heads down we joined a group of walkers as they sheltered by a wall.

Up an over to Great Crag, the weather eased once more and we were able to enjoy the rugged, and varied terrain from which both Great Crag and Grange Fell are comprised.  I thoroughly recommend taking a hike over these fells, and to maybe plan your route to halt up there for a night.  

I won't mention the slow motion tumble that Dave took on the descent off the fell.  Ooops, too late - it just slipped out.  Sorry Dave!  Actually it could have been a lot worse as the ground he fell on to was very steep indeed.  He did well to stop himself tumbling much further and doing real damage.

Descending from Great Crag

The next four (ish) miles were lovely.  The Lansgtrath Valley is a real Lakeland gem. It is the longest and remotest, uninhabited valley in the Lake District, and I would also contest that it is one of the finest.  There huge numbers of wild camping opportunities in the valley itself, it is surrounded by lovely hills, and Langstrath Beck is perhaps one of the most inviting streams I have encountered when walking in England.  Langstrath would be more appropriately placed in the Highlands.

Dave by the convergence of Langstrath & Stonethwaite Becks



Langstrath Beck tumbling into Stonethwaite



Further up the Langstrath Valley

The weather continued in its changeable ways and, having set off late we decided to cut out Allen Crags and go more or less straight to our intended pitch, right up the flanks of Glaramara.  It would be tough, steep and pathless - good training for TGO.  Navigation was less than precise, we just picked a ghyll to aim for and went for it.  It was roughly right. 

Steep and pathless it was - boggy it was too.  It was one of those strength sapping climbs when energy levels are running low and the pack weight seems to increase with each step.
Perseverance always pays off and we reached a change of angle to some much flatter ground where we dumped our packs and cast about looking for suitable pitches.  

A couple of suitable pitches

The Langdale Pikes are in the cloud at the back, there.  Honest!

Naturally during the evening the malt was freed from it's container.  Dave enjoyed his Talisker, I did not.  My choice was the rest of the Balvenie Signature referred to previously on this blog.  How comforting it was.
I left Dave to gorge himself on bread cakes and donuts and settled down for some sausage and cheese tortilla wraps, followed by a couple of chocolate bars for good measure.
I wobbled about in my tent, just a couple of measures short of a stupor before dropping off.

In the early hours I woke, the tent had stopped rattling in the breeze and appeared to have sagged.  I sat up and touched the fabric - SNOW!  The tent was weighed down with snow.  I shook it off and it slid down the fly and formed little snow banks around my shelter.  Opening the door, I looked out to heavy snowfall - fabulous.  It explained why my nose was so cold during the night!


"Morning!"


As the daylight grew stronger, we began to surface going about our routines - cups of coffee for me, and a bit of chocolate.  We had a chat and decided to head back down to Langstrath instead of going over Glaramara and Bessyboot - the elusive Bessyboot would escape me AGAIN.

We took great care descending from our camp, which we worked out to be at just over 600m, down to the valley floor.  There were a few slips and slides but we got down without event and relished the wander down the valley that lay ahead. 

It was on our descent that Mother Nature offered her treat.  She always does when I am out on foot.  This time, she sent a lovely male Snow Bunting, followed by three or four of his harem of ladies.  They dashed up the hill towards the area of our pitch.  It was a real treat for me, and a first for Dave - he was delighted!

Once again we strolled through the splendour of Langstrath and just before we emerged onto the path by Stonethwaite Beck a Red Squirrel scampered confidently on the boughs of an old deciduous tree.  It sat for a while gnawing at a morsel, allowing Dave to get a few pictures.  Mother Nature did it again!

Observing the unwritten challenge rules, according to Dave, we paused at the little tea room in Rosthwaite for a bacon butty and a PINT of tea.  The staff there were splendid company and most hospitable, showing great interest in our day and where we were from.  I thoroughly recommend you stop by next time you pass.  You can find out more here...

http://www.borrowdaleherdwick.co.uk/tea_flock_in.htm

We followed the Derwent from here through to Grange, around the base of Castle Crag and savoured what was left of a fantastic, if short trip to the mountains. 

It was good to meet Dave, he really added to the weekend for me.  The discussion varied from general life and ALWAYS came back to the Challenge.  It was clear to me that it was something he loves doing.  He is off for a long walk on Skye this year - check out his blog for more on that.  Next year, its back to TGO again.



Dave - bloody nice chap!



I may post some more photos when I can get some from Dave, unless he is planning to do a trip report too.  In which case I will add a link. ***AND HERE IT IS*** http://davewoodwalks.blogspot.com/2012/03/mr-woods-bittern-and-other-short.html

So, go on.  Get yourself into the Langstrath Valley.  I dare you!



"Grab your waterproof, you've pulled!"

Shortly after 0330h this morning, I dragged myself out of bed and was going through the necessary ablutions when the mobile phone pinged after being resurrected after a few short hours.
There, at the top of the pile of twitter notifications, was the email...


"Welcome to the TGO Challenge"


I am not on the Standby List any more.  See you in the Highlands!