SWCP4

South West Coastal Path
Bude to Port Issac

SWCP4 from Andy Humphrey on Vimeo.

SWCP3

South West Coastal Path
Bude to Bicks Mill - 30 miles

SWCP3 from Andy Humphrey on Vimeo.

SWCP pt2

South West Coastal Path - 35 miles from Combe Martin to Braunton

SWCP from Andy Humphrey on Vimeo.

Exmoor Micro Adventure

Exmoor Micro with Greg and Steve.. Ran 22 miles and wild camped at Heddons Mouth then hiked 8miles back to the car.


Exmoor Micro from Andy Humphrey on Vimeo.

Dartmoor Perambulation

A 53 mile, 4 day trek and wild camp around Dartmoor's Ancient Boundary

Dartmoor Perambulation from Andy Humphrey on Vimeo.

Winter Micro in the Brecons

Winter Micro Adventure in the Brecon Beacons

Brecon Micro from Andy Humphrey on Vimeo.

Ouse Micro

Micro adventure / wild camp down the River Ouse

Ouse MicroAdventure from Andy Humphrey on Vimeo.

Devon C2C Mini Adventure

Timings were to be a theme for the weekend and whether we were just plain damn lucky, or the precision planning by Rob, it made for a smooth no waiting weekend, albeit, not easy on my ticker at times.
Rob picked me up at 7am on the Saturday and we headed west down to Exeter via Sherborne to pick up Greg. To keep me pre-occupied from Rob's rally race to Exeter train station I took on the Badger watch challenge which unfortunately got into the tens of poor badgers not making it across the road.
Arriving in Exeter the station was, typically, on the other side of town and we had 15 minutes and no chance, we thought, of making our train.  Fortunately Rob was still on the case and triumphantly not only got us to the station and onto the train with 2 minutes to spare, but managed to remember to take a photo of the parking number to call in. Although he did forget his arm warmers and hat! A small price to pay to save us from waiting an hour for the next train.
A smooth journey to Barnstaple and we were set to start our Coast to Coast mini adventure. A 100 mile bike ride from North Devon to South mainly along an old disused train track or quiet country lanes.
We set off on the Tarka trail going west out of Barnstaple to Bideford. We decided to miss out on the Illfracombe section due to us not starting out till midday and we thought we had enough on our plates already. We were here to take on a challenge but, more importantly, enjoy it.
The weather was beautiful but the wind on our faces was fierce. It was a good start though, making our way along the River Taw looking out to the breath taking scenery and the mouth watering salted lambs enjoying their last summer. The miles ticked by sedately. So much so, we stopped for a cheeky beer at Instow to celebrate the start of our trip, mmMM Sharps Doombar!
Rested, we saddled up for the next section down the River Torridge only to be stopped in our tracks just a short while later by a disused train carriage serving cake near Bideford. Rude not to try some we thought. The happy cafe owners told us about a small music festival which was on our route and we promised to check it out.
The going so far had been pleasant, only having to contend with the biting wind. But we had decided to stop in Great Torrington to pick up supplies for the night and this resulted in us taking on some tough hills. We struggled up to town then went for the direct route back to the trail, ignoring the warning contour signs on the map, and so went steeply down to a valley bottom only to have to struggle up the opposite hill top and then finally down to the trail. We had our wine though.
It was then cruising mode to East Yarde where we fell upon the music festival. What a find.  A small gathering of people enjoying the multi talented musicians playing easy listening tunes whilst we enjoyed a few fine ales in the afternoon sun. With time drifting we reluctantly pulled ourselves away. We still had a camp site to find. The plan was to set up in a wooded area a few miles away. When we got there though, we realised that the planted forest was just too dense and continuing on we could not find any potential openings! Persevering, things started to open out and exploring an old disused track up a hill we eventually found an acceptable pitch and settled down to camp life. Clearing an area, Rob starting the food, Greg poured the wine and I went foraging for firewood. Very soon we were all chilled out and relaxing after a very enjoyable first days riding, eating a scrumptious supper of chorizo and pasta.
(D1 stats :  30miles +/-600m)

Some people just get up too early (especially if they go too bed early Greg). Rob and I, on the other hand, had enjoyed the evening with a little too much wine. Greg was up and raring to go at it.  Donning his lycra gear. Thankfully he slowed just a little and made us a much welcomed, wakening brew with a bacon and poached egg roll. Lovely.
With heavy head and legs, the camp was cleared and we set off for part 2 of the journey. This would be a monster of a day and so the early start was, in hindsight, a good thing. The morning brought a few short, sharp hills which only emphasised that I had drunk too much. I was struggling whilst Greg was easing up these hills, or could it have been the streamlined lycra he was wearing? This part of the route was on dead quiet country lanes all the way to Okehampton and the visible Tors of Dartmoor.
Once in town we restocked with food and water and set off up the thigh aching slopes to the railway line, quarry pits and Meldon. The views out onto the moors and surroundings areas from up on the viaducts were astounding and highlighted the limitless possibilities to explore. We soon descended away from the moors and took a welcomed break in a pub we happened upon. A comfortable lunch was washed down with a fine Otter ale. All too soon we dragged ourselves away before ordering any more ale and pushed on to Lydford where I (we) got our only puncture of the trip. A quick change with a fresh inner and a, soon to be broken, promise to fix the puncture that night and we were on our way again.
In the quiet sleepy village we came across a small medieval castle and stopped for a spot of sight seeing around this little piece of history. On exiting we decided to take the summer route. Good for me, not so good for Greg and his road bike as this was the first proper stretch of off roading. Once past this section we had our first dilemma. We had planned to stock up on much needed wine at Mary Tavy but it being a Sunday the shop was closed. What to do? Go to a bigger town of course! Like a man on a mission, Rob went flying down to Tavistock while Greg and I descended at a more leisurely pace with the thought that this descent had to be ascended again at some point. In Tavistock we failed to find the 'Flying Andrews' but before Greg could profane any more we finally met up again. Rob loaded up with our precious cargo.
Due to missing out on the Illfracombe top section we had decided if timings were right we would detour off the route and up into Dartmoor for the night. With the day still young we took on a 400m ascent into the National Park. Not wanting to make this too easy we first went the wrong way out of town just to get in an extra couple of miles! The hill was tough, it included taking a needed to stop, rest and scoff down as many sweets as possible to try and get some sugars back in the system. But the thought of camping on the moors, and the pub at the top, drove us on.
Unfortunately, a perfect bank holiday weekend and the pub was closed!! We waiting around for half hour for it to open but when we found out it wasn't to open for another one and half hours we resigned ourselves to just having some wine once we found a camp spot. We went for the biggest Tor around, of course, the views would be the best. This was a struggle and was close to being one hill too many for Greg. Patience was fraying but, before the toys came out the pram and he started demanding to sleep where we stood, a swap to pushing a lighter bike and an energy gel was enough of a boost to make it to the top of Great Staple Tor. And boy, it was worth it. Magnificent, stunning panorama views topped off with a perfect camping spot. Hopefully the pictures can do it justice :

Having taken stock of where we were we climbed on to a high rock and enjoyed a mug of wine feeling very content after a full on day. We then settled into our standard routine quickly, with Rob looking after dinner, Greg keeping us supplied with wine and me, hmm, there's no fire wood up here! With no wood around I took a stroll around the surrounding Tors.  What a place.  Promising myself to return soon and maybe tackle a long run, linking in as many Tors as I can manage in a day or so.

Back in camp and food was ready. These meals are so good. This time it was chicken, chorizo and cous cous. With full bellies and our mugs full we lay back and relaxed as the sun settled over the horizon. Perfection was narrowly missed due the lack of a fire and the moist air, ensuring a feeling of cold dampness.

(D2 stats : 45miles +/-1400m).

Morning dawned and the warmth of the day started to flow into our cold, tired bodies. Another brew, another cooked breakfast and unfortunately time came when we had to leave. There is always a feeling of sadness when having to leave a wild camp. Taking on small risks, small challenges, unknowns and enjoying good company in the outdoor environment all amounts to a satisfying adventure.
A body shaking fun descent moved us down off the Tor to a bridleway path we had decided to take (we saw a car use it the previous day). The first kilometre was fine on a rocky, old road but then this gave way to a track of dried mud and rocks which was good fun for Rob and I but resulted in Greg having to walk this section out. With a lack of drinking water we pit stopped to refill in a stream we passed on the way. Soon the tough path was replaced by worn tarmac and we peddled our way out through the valley on country lanes down to Walkhampton and finally back onto the C2C trail running parallel with the River Meavy merging with the Plym at Dewerstone.
This was a fascinating section. All downhill on an easy trail passing through tunnels, crossing bridges, in between cut out rock faces for the old railway line, all in a deep wooded vale, surrounded by the colours of spring. Just beautiful and it was shame to all of a sudden then to be within the city limits of Plymouth where beauty was replaced with the trash of poor living, old industry and traffic congested roads. We quickly made our way through the mass of tourists, uneasy with the sudden influx of crowds and noise.We made our way down to the Waterfront bar, a fitting end to our mini adventure, and enjoyed cold beers and pub grub. At some point Rob, realising the time, got us on our feet for a quick exit and a sprint through town to arrive at the train station with minutes to spare. Bikes stored away it was not long before we were all sleeping soundly until we got back to Exeter. With the car fully loaded we made our way home after a very rewarding weekend.
(D3 stats: 25miles +/-800m).

A super route for all bike types and nothing too taxing (if you stay on route) so we could enjoy the tour and take our time to take in all that Devon has to offer. I'm looking forward to the next adventure. Cheers Rob and Greg for being fantastic micro companions and for the organising and logistics.

Overall stats : 3 days, 100miles,  +/-2800m elevation, 10 beers, 6 litres of wine and plenty of food.

Winter Micro Adventure

Contrasting days

When the boys started to discuss a winter micro adventure up in North Wales, I was in. It didn't matter that we were planning on staying up in the mountains, in Wales, in winter. This is adventure,  getting yourself out of your comfort zone and experiencing things you do not think of doing most weekends.
A plan was quickly agreed upon. The Snowdon horseshoe, a great link up of ridges and summits, a British classic. A challenging one but doable for those with limited mountain experience. So where to camp? Having been up these parts a few times recently and had come across lynn Glas lake a beautiful setting just below Crib Goch ridge in Cwm Glas. It was perfect but, would the weather be?
Time soon befell us and 4 micro adventurers awaited eagerly for the designated week with the weather ever changing week on week I had doubts about the trip going ahead and whether it was feasible. Speaking to the guys on the trip I shouldn't of been apprehensive as they were all up for this whatever the conditions.
We arrived Saturday lunchtime after a 5+hr drive to blue skies and inviting scenery albeit with snow capped peaks. Grabbing our sacks we headed off into the hills. Time was crucial as we were going clockwise on the horseshoe with the campsite 2/3rds away round, so we couldn't linger.
We took the miners track onwards to Snowdon but, soon turned off the tourist trail and onto the Lliwedd track. The sun was shining, we were fresh, the packs felt light and all the while surrounded with stunning views.
A short, sharp walking scramble we reached the top, the snowline had begun and talking to a couple of guys who had just done crib goch, with crampons. We realised that we could not do the ridge without appropriate gear and so kept in our minds that we had to change our plan to a B or C. Could we camp at the top of Snowdon by the mountain cafe or could we descend a little down to Cloggy where there was another lake and hopefully be sheltered by the ever present wind.
The higher we got the more the wind picked up in gusts. A cold wind, a frontal wind which could easily bring in worse weather. At the top of Lliwedd we could see for miles around and out to sea was a foray of menacing rain clouds. Taking the tricky ridge descent down to the Watkin Path was  slow going due to rocks holding a layer of ice and hindering quick progress.
At the saddle we now only had one last ridge up to the top of Snowdon. We were all tiring a little and the weather ever deteriorating. Time stood for no-one though and so we pushed on. Almost immediately we were on snowed, iced paths, again slowing us down and knowing that a slip was not an option.

Nearing the summit ridge I spoke to 2 people who had turned around due to it being too icy. I told them not to relay that info to the guys below and scouted up ahead to make an informed decision. The route I believed they took was wrong and indeed too icy but there was another path to the left which turned out to be in good state. On topping the ridge the weather turned on us completely.  The snows fell and we found ourselves in a total white out. On reaching the summit our eyes stung from the onslaught of iced rain. A stark warning of mountain weather. 45 mins earlier we were basking in sunshine. But now was the time to descend and descend fast to a bivi spot.

The mountain cafe was shut so there was no chance of biving there. Crib goch ridge was out of bounds. So where to stay?
It was time to put all our eggs in one basket and agreed with the others that our best bet for the night was an old abandoned miners hut less than an hour or so down the llanberris path close to cloggy area I had been thinking off. Without delay we made haste. Infact, I think the technical term was skidding on our backsides on the ice to the 'safety' of the snow drifted train tracks. Then, we made haste and found the hut as darkness enveloped us.

With heavy packs dismissed we set about cleaning up our new home. Rob got the fire going, Steve and Mike put up the shelter and I went and foraged for 'clean' water.
We then settled in for the night with a delicious hot cuisine, fine wine and a story or 2 over a roaring fire. That's how I remember it. Before settling in we all noticed how clear the night sky was and all enjoyed taking in the vast solar systems on offer above our very heads.

With empty glasses we set up our bivis and lay to sleep. My sleeping spot was far from ideal. Comfy, yes, but unfortunately right next to Rob who beat me to the punch and was snoring soundly before I had even taken my socks off. Bugger.
But tiredness soon took hold and only a howling gale could awaken me now.
What would you know. I awoke to the tarpaulins flapping hysterically around camp and reluctantly got up to fix the problem . This wasn't a quick fix either. After faffing for an eternity to find my torch. I was then cold and so endured throwing some clothes on. Only then I returned to look at fixing the lines, one had been pulled out and the other torn by the roughness of the wind. Once fixed I swiftly returned to the different howling noises that camp had to offer from my companions!!
No sooner had I taken to sleep that I awoke again to one of the tarps kicking around in the wind. Not just the wind but a full on snow storm now. I just lay there for a while hoping that someone else would go and be the hero. But no one stirred (although i did find out in the morning that one or 2 were happy just to wrap themselves up a little tighter in there bivi bags - hardcore or lazy I'll let you decide) and saved the day/night for me.
From learning from my previous efforts, quick as a flash I was out and repairing. Just one of the lines was cut this time. The force of the gusts was enough to shear these against the rocks. Things never being straight forward at these ungodly hours the cut line was on the high side of the wall and so I had to clamber up high and tie the line to a rock then jog around to the outer wall and climb up to retrieve the line and set about ensuring it's permanent place with numb hands. Satisfied I returned to the warmth of my cold wet bag unable to feel my hands. A little sleep later and I awoke to the sad figure of Mike sat hunched over by the wall looking rather despondent.
'What's up'
'Oh I just had to fix the lines and couldn't be bothered to take my clothes off and get back into bed'
'Oh, get the tea on then.'
We were all soon up and about and warming ourselves with a brew and decamping. Then treated ourselves with a solid cooked breakfast (with sausages) before heading back out into the harsh winter climate.
We backtracked up the llanberris path to the snowdon saddle all the while being battered by a sheet ice of wind, although the going underfoot was slightly better than the previous evening with more slushy snow than ice. At the saddle we found immediate shelter by taking the descent down the Pyg track. Although a lot of snow had fallen it was all good underfoot apart from a few sections where care had to be taken.
Crampons or spikes would of been useful here and made our journey home that much more quicker and safer. The downward journey was slow but enjoyable with the challenging terrain and the parties we passed in all their different attires. Some set up for winter treking and others seemingly off to the local shops in sweatpants. I wanted to tell these people to turn around and that a) they were not going to enjoy the experience b) not make it and thereby be at risk.

But, it never seemed right to start preaching as there did seem to be enough wise heads around and I had to keep reminding myself of my first forays into the mountains and the unknown dressed only in tracky bottoms and a cheap fleece and I loved it all. Ending the days mainly in the dark, cold and wet, having gotten lost but sitting in the bar later and digressing and thinking it was the best day. So I wasn't going to preach and just hoped that they all would enjoy their first experiences as much I did.
The snowline soon dissipated and the pace picked up as well as the views. For now we were under the cloud level and could see up and down the Llanberris valley, which made the final walk out just a little bit more rewarding. Finally at the car we had been going for 24 hours. Had had very contrasting days, from a warm beginning our resolve got tested with deteriorating weather. But we persevered and made it out with one great experience that only these micro adventures can throw at you.

We missed out on the Bison steaks on the way home, we did get to try a bison burger, much tastier than your usual horse meat that's going around at the mo. I cannot wait to head up to Wales again, to camp in another wild valley and no matter the weather for you know that it will be one memorable weekend.

Micro adventure (#3)

Climbing in Swanage

The friday evening Stu and myself sped down to swanage to get in a little deserved climbing. From being a little downbeat beforehand, a couple of climbs in, one involving traversing into a cave and climbing up the back of it and traversing the ceiling to exit via a blowhole, my spirits were back up again. You have to question why you put off things you love doing. Don't. We finished climbing as the sun set and headed off contented and for a couple of well earned beers.

Stu on 1st Corner

The usual morning chaos of piling stuff up and then deciding what to take on our micro adventure arrived. This was a  meet up with fellow adventurers then a hike to a discrete spot to wild camp the night under the stars then run home the next day. So my dilemma, as usual, was what could I not take so that weight was minimal. The 3 litres of wine was a must, so was the 5 litres of water, camping stuff, extra cloths (although summer its fairly cold at night at the mo) and food. Hmm, but how much food did I really need for my run (I ditched a load and again I still had a bit when I got home the next day, so more can be dumped next time).

Arriving at Overton, I met the rest of the gang. Rob, Greg, Steve, Duncan and Mike, whose 40th it was and was suitable attired with a large fluffy hat with dildos (or candles) hanging of it. We made our way into the countryside not before first getting lost just out of the car park! We hiked a loop for a couple of hours passing some buffalo meaning we were nearing Laverstock farm. Stopping for refreshments tasting the delicious local hops and buying some local produce we reluctantly staggered away to find a home for the night.

mmmMMM Buffalo Steaks

Chilling

An hour later and having hiked 11ish miles we arrived at our destination. A friend of Rob's, Graham, was allowing us to camp up in a corner of one of his fields. We settled down and gathered wood for the fire pit. Once the embers were charred enough we threw some potatoes in and opened up the wine and relaxed. Life feels good in these situations, so how can it get better? By staking the buffalo steaks into the fire and dinner is served. Amazing all round. The night was nicely rounded off with Graham and his family joining us with some fine bottles of wine (one a '73 for Mikes Birthday), which neatly sent him packing to his sleeping pit. A shame I didn't pass out as quick as all too soon we heard the rumbles and snorts not from an escaped buffalo but by Rob and Steve (named and shamed).

Morning headaches

We awoke gingerly in the morning and slowly tidied up as Steve fired up the burners to cook us a fry up. This beautiful setting highlighted with a couple of young deer wondering in very close to camp. We soon said farewell to Graham and to his stunning home and grounds and not long after I was wishing all the others well as I started my run as they hiked back to the station.

The run started slow. 'Hangover' aside, my rucksack took an age to get right, then I had to retrieve my mp3, not long after I wanted some food. Still there was no rush and this was all about enjoying getting home and the whole body needed a slow wind up. Just getting into my stride and realised that there seemed to be no easy way over/under the motorway so ended up running along some roads and the heavens opened up which truly drenched me to the bone. Lucky that the day was going to be interspersed with blue skies and heavy downpours, so things soon dried up once I was soaked.

No rain?

Back on track and on the Wayfarers Trail which takes on some breathtaking scenery, although the overgrown hedgerows, hills, wind and rain did there best to put me down just as the heavy spells of thunder rumbled on. Heading down into winchester I joined the Itchen Way or 3 castles Path? or St Swithuns Way? or was it the Kings Way?. This area is blessed with amazing footpaths to explore. Through Winchester I took my usual run home, highlighted by a fox popping out in front of me before scurrying away. Then passing St Cathrine's Hill which I choose not to do my regular sprint up. The river atmosphere was in stark contrast to a few days early which I ran in strong heat and hundreds of people sun bathing and swimming along the banks where today there was no-one to be seen. Moving away from the river I finished the last 2 miles with a little pace in trying to get under 5 hours for the trip. No one can stop being a little competitive in any situation.
A great weekend. Another entertaining and successful micro adventure. These really are good and recommend any one to try it.
Stats: 11mile hike on the saturday followed by a 29mile run on sunday.

The route 29miles in 4hrs59

Jurassic Coast Run - Counting the Hills

After my car blew up on the way to Wales last month I haven't been able to do to much and so with 2 mountain marathons cancelled I was desperate for something to do before another month slipped by. The Quest Adventure race was on in the Purbecks but not really wanting to do this solo (enjoy the team events) and also wanting to try something a little longer/harder I decided to run the Jurassic coastline. Plus I need the hill training for the Welsh 1000 race I'll be doing in a couple of weeks.
Logistically this was easy. Catch a local train down to Weymouth and run to either Wareham or Poole and home. I decided on Wareham in the end as it took in more countryside and off the roads. Initial plan was to run this in 2 sections Weymouth to Winspit (25miles) then Winspit to Wareham (20miles) carrying a light sleeping bag, mat, day food and water, the weather looked perfect.
Hopping off the train I was surrounded by half naked sun bathers to-ing and fro-ing. Feeling a little over clothed and carrying a rucksack I was pleased to quickly make my way onto the promenade and away from Weymouth and the crowds. Taking on the first hill I soon felt like I was alone, this is more like it and i could just enjoy the day, the views, the weather.

The terrain started nice and rolling but each hill got closer, got steeper and got harder. All the while passing great visual landmarks, White Nothe, Bats Head, Durdle Door and finally down to the iconic Lulworth Cove. I was feeling good here taking a little over 2 hours to do the 12 miles. I filled up my water bottles and treated myself to a large ice cream for the hard hill ahead and brutal descent a common theme for the entire day I was finding.
Into the firing range section, which is something new for me. I have tried to run this a couple of times but this area does get closed for military training. So I was looking forward to seeing what this section had to offer. No doubt it is a stunningly beautiful stretch of the coastline but by heck it has to be one of the toughest. The next 6 miles took me 2 hours it was a constant roller-coaster of hills battling it out to be the meanest.

At Kimmeridge Bay I took a needed break fueled with an iced cold can of coke and refilled my water. I was finding this extremely tough. The hills were hard, the heat was hot and the wind was, although cooling, was strong and against me all the way. On top of these my chest was in pain initially I thought it was indigestion from the electrolyte drinks. Then I remembered of having problems before with a too tight a rucksack putting undue pressure on my shoulder blade and therefore affecting my whole left side chest area...another old injury that has never fully cleared away. Still after undoing the straps things did get a little easier, although I cant say the hills, heat and wind did.
After Kimmeridge things relented for a short time allowing me to push my tired legs on. At the start of the next punishing hill I got a call from friends about meeting up. I agreed and said I'd be an hour. Hmmm that's 20mins for each remaining hill. Means I'm gonna have to kick on just as I'm ready to punch out! On seeing a sign saying 1 mile to go was heaven sent.
Arriving at Winspit completely worn out I was grateful at seeing Jake and Melissa chilling out with a drink. They had been Adventure Racing in the purbecks unfortunately pulling out after 3hrs with a broke bike chain. After a few more stories, beers and a glorious bbq in the setting sun my pains were forgotten. After saying goodbyes I settled down for my night out under the stars. My first site, right by the cliff side, although very comfy was in line with a gusting wind which would stir me every 5 mins. So after an hour I decided to move further in. Less wind but now I couldn't settle a tired body on a hard ground but it was nice starring up at the millions of stars and listening to TalkUltra, very relaxing.
Sunrise was for 5am but it got light around 4am! But it was a great place to doze for a couple of hours and it came a point when I had to emerge and start the day. I was going to carry on the coast run but due to keeping hold of the hot bbq I had to take this to the nearest town where my friends were illegally camping and could dispose of it legally. This suited me as I had underestimated yesterday and so an easy day today wasn't hard to convince myself. The run might have been shorter but the hills remained and one by one I ticked them off through beautiful countryside. I of course had to do a little map reading now that I was inland and the sea wasn't to the right at all times. Running into the splendid Corfe I treated myself to a breakfast of sausage rolls and cheese and bacon pastry and a coke. Feeling refreshed I pushed on and managed a good amble now that the hills had all but disappeared. The finishing route was vastly interesting from the awesome ruggedness of the coast on day 1 to the farmlands and closed woodlands to marshlands to the river frome taking me into Wareham and the train home.

Another great run and inspiring location. Trail running sure does take you to some amazing places. Whether it's for training or just to enjoy. It's a place to try and this is only a small section of it. With plenty of places to wild camp, towns to fuel up then there is boundless opportunities to explore this more and to try out more routes. I can't wait.

Day 1 25 miles in 6hrs 15mins taking on 17 or 18 big hills +/- 4600ft
Day 2 12 miles in 2hrs 30mins only a few hills +/- 1500ft

More Pictures:

January's adventures

Stonehenge Stomp - January 29th


Happy days. Re-reading the Amesbury Walkers instructions i found out that i would get an extra hour in bed, so no getting up at 6.30am. The start for runners was for 9.15. This was my first LDWA event. What it lacks in competivness makes up in organisation. You just turn up, sign in and get on with it in your own time, with checkpoints every 6kms or so. You had a choice of 10,20,30 or 40kms. i went for the latter just hoping my legs would hold up. The day was bleak, cold and foggy but thankfully no wind and the miles flew by and after running past Stonehenge my thighs started to hurt, so it was gonna be a tough last 10miles. I can only think that i haven't fully rested my legs over the last couple of weeks (tapered correctly) and there was more roads than i normally run so not sure if that had an impact issue. With a couple of small walks inbetween running kept me on a reasonable pace and soon finished feeling ok.
A great day amongst beautiful countryside and well supported with plenty of runners and walkers enjoying the day. Looking forward to more LDWA challenge events they are well organised and dare i say it cheap compared to many other running events.
26.2miles in 4hrs09mins.

Run home from the Source of the River Itchen - January 21st


After being dropped of in the middle of no-where, sorry where the source of the River Itchen starts I made my way through beautiful countryside and villages towards Winchester. i presumed navigation would be simple but it did prove a little tricky as i made my way from one side of the river to the other. Once through Winchester I was on familiar ground and even the sun popped out to warm me up from the cold battering wind. After over 20miles i had to leave the river and make my way home. But a stunning run which again opens up what superb countryside we have on our doorsteps.
23.5 miles over 3hrs40mins.



Jurassic Coast Run - January 14th

A brutally hilly run taking us along the purbeck coastline from Lulworth to Osmington and then we veered off to the White horse and ran back along the extremely muddy ridgeline. 17.5miles covered over challenging terrain. looking forward to linking this up with a full run from weymouth to poole.



Wild camping at Hurst Castle (& run back from Lynhurst) - January 7th

We arrived at Hurst Castle as it turned dark and still unsure on whether we would be told to bugger off. Not wanting to be told to go and find another camping site after walking 8 miles through the marshes of  Keyhaven. We kept the noise to a minimum and hoped that the fishermen we were sharing the spit with would also not become unwelcoming.
In a fine eerie setting nestled between the waves of the English channel and the formidable 500 year old fortress we settled down and enjoyed a splendid dinner. A few jokes and stories later we were soundly asleep by 9pm. Not the party boys from yesteryear.
Waking up refreshed the smell of bacon was soon wafting around camp. Not wanting to outstay our welcome we packed up and left a superb wild camping site back the 8 miles to Lymington.
Not wanting to finish my adventure yet I got dropped of just outside Lyndhurst and ran (with my pack) the 16.5miles home. Tough going with the pack weighing me down and me feeling somewhat tired from the walking we had just done and also not having run for a couple of weeks.
A great micro adventure and cannot wait for the next one.

Mud and Micro Adventures

Two events worthy of note this month. I was taking the month of November easy. After running100miles in a week late last month, and a niggling groin, my main aim was just to go to the Hellrun Turbo X and enjoy the day but after a friend had hinted at a chance to go wild camping the week after I just had to go and complete a mini micro adventure, which after thoughtful planning would include running home.

First the mud
The Turbo X is a 10 mile cross country run. It gentle eases you into the woods and then you are hit with an array of large puddles, rivers and swamps to fight your way through. Words hardly do it justice so hopefully the pictures will.

Micro Adventure
Having wanted to bivi outdoors all summer I thought my chance of wild camping this year was over with the winter months drawing in but there are madder folk than me and a quick chat later Rob had invited me to go wild camping somewhere in late November. Even I thought that this could be just a little late in the year but there was no deferring from the other guys so I was good to go as well.
There are few issues with going wild camping, which is the appeal, it's simple and you get off the beaten track. Wear some clothes, take a sleeping bag and bivi sack, food, stove and plenty of wine and you've bagged it. My main sticking point was getting to the start line,
 in Alton. It was near on 3hrs on a train to take me 20 odd miles. Railways! Luckily for me a friend was able to drop me off in Alton. Unlucky for me this was 3 hours before the arrival of the others and so after investigating the high street in 5 minutes I dropped into a local tavern for 2, maybe 3, cheeky brews. All part of getting into the spirit of the event! The guys soon arrived at the station and introductions were made. Rob, Steve, Neil and Greg forging the Southern Micro Adventure gang. A short detour via the Off License to stock up on more wine supplies and we were heading into the wilderness via the A31. Once off the roads and free of traffic we got into a steady rhythm on The St Swithuns Way. After 7miles of hiking we entered Old Down Wood, our destination for the night. The bivi spot took a little finding due to the isolated location but once settled and made comfy an enjoyable evening was had with good food (apart from the courgettes), plentiful wine and, after foraging the surrounding area, plenty of dry(ish) wood for a splendid fire. All topped off with a dodgy selection of loud music with the last 5 decades or so being played out. Bedding down around the fire I was warm, comfy and looking forward to a night under the stars in the tranquility of the surroundings. Although I couldn't see the stars I could feel the rain as it gently sprinkled my face. No one else moved so I decided to also hold my ground and soon enough the rain dissipated.

Sleep came with the continued noise of nameless persons 'letting em rip'. I was also to be awoken, thankfully not by these noises, but by at least 3 of the camp mates blissfully snoring me into consciousness. After the 3rd time I was woken up by the 'land whales' conversing I decided the best course of action was to move outta there and got a great sleep for the remainder of the night.
Waking up, the boys were already on the case of cooking brekkie and brewing up. Bliss. This was scoffed down and we were all packed and ready to move off in no time at all. The guys were heading back to Alton but I had decided to run home, turning this micro adventure into a macro one. After fond farewells I jogged off and it didn't take me long to get somewhat lost, a combination of a bleary wine head, identical farmers fields and no signs. Back on the right track I made good progress through Ropley and after more non existent signs in Bramdean Common I ploughed on, helped on my way by a group of horse riders. Back on track and zoning out, this run felt harder by carrying a full size rucksack, I neared Bramdean and realised yet again I was going the wrong way. No problem, I could just do a horseshoe back onto the track home, only frustrated by having to run on some roads for a short distance. From here, through Cheriton and to Cheesefoot Head was slow going. It was a constant string of ups and downs and my legs could in no way run the ups and so I had to resort to walking (which did give me time to eat and drink and enjoy the countryside). From Cheesefoot it was an never ending series of trails to Winchester and Twyford and finally down to the Itchen river. Good and flat here all the way to Otterbourne with uplifting, stunning scenery. One last hill to saunter over and then a quick home run to the finish line.
I covered 22miles in a little over 4 hours. This was a hard slog, although the terrain was no different to what I normally travel. So the lack of pace could be attributed to a fair bit of booze the previous day and I definitely underestimated how carrying a large (not heavy) rucksack would tire my legs quite considerably.

Still, my first foray into wild camping was hugely enjoyable (cheers Rob, Steve, Neil and Greg) and I am already excited about what the next micro adventure has in store. Bring it on and I'll bring the wine.