Filed under: walking | Tags: altitude, Exodus, High Atlas Mountains, marathon, Marrakech, Morocco, Mount Toubkal, trekking
Sorry for the radio silence readers; I’ve been away for the past 12 days or so – peacefully trekking around the High Atlas mountains on a trip organised by a company called Exodus followed by a few manic days in Marrakech. Had a fantastic time and am quite upset to be back at work, particularly given the bulging inbox I discovered this morning.
Phil and me at the top of Mount Toubkal, complete with silly hat (his not mine)
The trip incorporated a non-technical ascent of Mount Toubkal, the highest peak in the High Atlas range at 4,167m. That’s by far the highest I’ve ever been, and rather took my breath away – in so many more ways than one…we discovered some mad people doing a marathon up there. All credit to every single runner for managing such a tremendous physical feat – it’s not one I’ll be trying to emulate in the near future. I’m still getting over the fact that my resting heart rate was 120bpm even at Toubkal base camp (3,207) – double its normal rate of 60bpm. No wonder proper athletes train at altitude.
In other news, the MINI is fine – thanks to those who’ve asked after her. She’s now purring after her prolonged stay with 3D Transmissions – I should think so too, having had 1,280 quid spent on her. It’s been an expensive month…
Filed under: walking | Tags: Ashridge, cake, Ivinghoe Beacon, Knowl Hill Bridleway, London, tea, Thames Festival, walk
Greetings loyal readers – that’s if I have any after failing to write for two weeks or more. I’ve been out and about, but lacking the energy and good humour required to write.
As well as the odd run and British Military Fitness session in the encroaching darkness – though no more weekday triple bills – Phil and I have been trying to blister-proof our feet in advance of a trekking trip to Morocco next month. Our trip to Cornwall kickstarted the training programme with a couple of days ambling around the South West Coastal Path in August.
During the bank holiday we had a glorious day exploring Ivinghoe Beacon and woodland around Ashridge Estate, and even climbed the Bridgewater Monument. That was embarrassing: we got to the top and were rewarded with a 360° view of where we had walked during the day. The only disturbance was caused by two exceptionally yappy dogs at the base of the monument that wouldn’t shut up. Rather unwisely, I said – at the top of my voice – “God, can you IMAGINE living with those?” The woman standing right next to me said: “I can and I do. They’re mine…” Ooops. I had to relieve my red face with tea and carrot cake at the nearby cafe.
We’ve also done a fair amount of traipsing around London when we’ve been there for the weekend. Had a great day with friends mid-September, when we stumbled across the Thames Festival. This was a completely free event, featuring music and dance, food and fireworks.
We’ve also been exploring the area where I live out in Berkshire. We’ve come across little copses, footpaths, bridleways and whole villages that I didn’t even know existed, despite living here on and off over the course of 14 years. Today was a case in point: we explored the northern half of the Knowl Hill Bridleway Circuit, which we ran part of a couple of months back. We came across the most delightful place called Littlewick Green, a sleepy village with huge amounts of open space, children frolicking on the green, chocolate box cottages and lots of fancy cars. Maybe if I win the lottery…
Then, of course, I wouldn’t have to work. That would be lovely after the week I just had. Didn’t even have time to fit in the minimum two weekday units of exercise – just did one BMF class on Monday night I think. It feels so long ago, I’m not even sure. I’m also fighting off a cold and sore throat, but have had lots of sleep this weekend, so I think I might be on the mend.
Right, away I go. Time for roast chicken with chili, saffron, mint and lemon. It smells good…
Filed under: walking | Tags: Brasher, Feet First, Freesole, glue, hiking boots, Lancashire Sports Repairs, leather, sole, walking
At around 10.30pm last night, I wrote this note to Brasher, outlining a problem with my hiking boots:
I wonder if you can help? I have a fantastic pair of Brasher leather hiking boots – at least ten years old. They fit perfectly, and have done many miles of happy hiking.
I’ve looked after them with regular cleaning and waxing – with Nikwax type products. But leather is just beginning to crack and the sole is starting to come away from the base of one of the boots. Whilst I accept I will need to replace them in the next few months – hopefully with another pair of Brashers – I am planning a five-day trek in the High Atlas mountains within the next few weeks and don’t want to have to break in new boots before then.
What do you suggest in terms of repairing at least the sole to see me through the trip? Can a high street shoe repairer simply re-glue them, or should I consult some sort of specialist?
At 8.57 this morning, I received the following response:
Thank you for your recent e-mail.
You can purchase Freesole glue which is a high viscosity urethane repair system. Freesole cures to a flexible rubber product providing superior adhesion, wear resistance, flexibility and water resistance. Freesole is the ideal repair adhesive for footwear and soles on shoes, hiking boots and walking footwear.
Or alternatively my advise would be to contact our brasher repair/resole specialists. They will advise you of costs involved in repairing your footwear.
Feet First Lancashire Sports Repairs
Unit 4 & 5 19 Athletic Street
Foundry Street Industrial Estate Burnley
Whittington Moor Lancashire
Chesterfield BB10 4LP
Tel: 01246 260795 Tel: 01282 439109
Email:info@resoles.co.uk Email: info@lsr.gb.com
Website: www.feetfirst.co.uk Website: www.lsr.gb.comI do hope the above is of assistance to you.
Enjoy your trek.
Regards
Carol
How good is that?
We all have a tendency to rant about crap online experiences, so it’s nice to see some good old fashioned customer service delivered at speed. Well done Brasher.
Filed under: food, walking | Tags: Beacon Cottage campsite, Cardiff, Millennium Stadium, Perranporth, Porthtowan, Portreath, South West Coast Path, St Agnes, U2, walking
My parents have taken on an almighty challenge since my Dad retired, and that’s to walk the complete South West Coast Path from Minehead in Devon to Poole Harbour in Dorset – 630 miles of coastal paths in total. They’re doing it in chunks of about eight to ten days, twice a year.
I’ve only seen tiny bits of the Path when I’ve been in Devon and Cornwall so, in preparation for our “proper” holiday trekking around Morocco’s High Atlas mountains later this year, Phil and I decided to spend a few days down in Pastyland. We stayed at a lovely campsite near St Agnes – the Beacon Cottage Farm campsite, complete with chickens. I was probably more excited about the mother hen and her four chicks being let out of their coop each morning than the children on the site.
Chickens at Beacon Cottage campsite
We managed two reasonable walks – one from Perranporth to St Agnes; the other from St Agnes to Portreath and back to Porthtowan (where we got on the bus back to St Agnes). On the third day, the weather was a bit gruesome, so we pottered around the galleries in St Ives (nice) and the Tate (complete crap – don’t bother), and did just a short stroll for an hour or two towards Zennor. It actually took 45 minutes to escape St Ives without a map, so that really was only a cursory attempt to walk off the lunchtime Cornish pasty.
Chapel Porth beach overlooked by Wheal Coates
Anyway, big round of applause to Noddy and Big Ears (my Mum and Dad), as the walking is quite strenuous in places – particularly up and down the steep steps between Porthtowan and Portreath! Still, it has the effect of making you feel like you deserve the Cornish pasties (the best ones we had were from the little bakery in St Agnes), ice cream, wild blackberries snatched from bushes along the way, sausages from the local butcher BBQ’d next to the tent, wine, port and a really quite lovely meal at The Railway Inn one night…
During the course of our stay, I pondered why everyone tells you to steer clear of Cornwall in August. The trip down mid-week was fine, the Coast Path was deserted in places and the campsite showers were always hot.
Then we tried to leave.
Oh. My. God. Evidently, everyone in Cornwall was trying to do the same thing, and the A3o was jammed. So was the M5. And the M4, as we turned left towards the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff for the U2 gig on Saturday night.
It took seven and a half flipping hours to get from St Agnes to Cardiff.
Then we couldn’t get out of Cardiff. Two and a half hours it took to get moving on the M4. By that time, my eyes had stopped working and I couldn’t focus on the road. Into Cardiff Services we went, so I could have a snooze. Forty minutes later, and I’d recharged my batteries sufficiently to get back home.
All credit to Phil for staying awake for the whole twelve and a half hour journey, using his Blackberry to establish a fairly creative route into Cardiff via Newport docks (without which we would have surely missed our date with Bono and co.) and never losing his rag – not even when I hit the steering wheel in sheer frustration and nearly cried with tiredness.
U2 were good though.
