Category Archives: around home

The Purbecks, again

With the promise of a whole day of no rain, it made sense to use the money to drive over the Swanage & deliver my front wheel to the bike shop rather than post it. Of course, this gave the opportunity to ride more hills than there are at home. Scrabbling all the Swanage trails I could find together on my GPS, I was hoping I could get about 80 km done in six hours.

It was sunny, chilly in the northerly, proper muddy and all good fun. The cake & pasty stops in Corfe Castle were as good as always. Strangely on the Coast Path I bumped in to a couple of riders coming the opposite direction – I recognised them as I rode past, I rode most of my first MTB Marathon with them in Shropshire last summer. Fifteen minutes of catching up ensued before I did another loop & ended up back at the bikeshop for much talk about bikes (what else?).

Spam, egg, sausage & spam

With a name such as the SPAM Winter Challenge, I could hardly miss this for the obvious Python connection.

Now that that’s out of the way, I may continue with a brief summary of what was clearly the last bike event of 2013 for me (I’ve managed seven this year, significantly more than any other year since I left NZ). Just over an hour’s drive north up on Salisbury Plain, a few of the Combe Raiders were coming across from Somerset for this event that tries to deal with the Christmas excesses. With all the storms & rain that we’ve had over the last week, it was just as well this was supposed to be a course that deals with all sorts of weather well.

It’s been a very mild winter so far, so it was with some surprise that I had to scrape a frost off my car as I set off this morning. This did mean that it was a wonderfully clear day – ideal for a ride. Driving up the A360 it was clear that the event was in the middle of the largest MOD training area in the country – there were signs for tanks crossing & signs warning of unexploded ordnance frequently. Unusually, the race briefing warned us to ensure we didn’t ride into any tanks or stray off the trail and do a commendable impression of jumping high into the sky & scattering in thousands of pieces. Eventually the others made it from Somerset – some not quite in the knick of time for the 10 am start.

The first quarter of the fifty kilometre circuit was definitely the best. I really should learn to get a reasonable position mid-field at the start of such events – battling through a surprisingly large field up a long & slow climb is tedious. After that climb there were a few dives down off the ridge & back up again – mostly on rough muddy doubletrack through fields, with a bit of singletrack. The mud was pretty gloopy & horrendous for sticking to everything, but not too difficult to ride through (it did end up taking over an hour to clean my bike properly once home). We then found ourselves on the road for about twenty kilometres as we rode through the army land – boring, but preferable to being blown sky-high. It was a perfect day for riding: extensive views over the beautiful Wiltshire countryside, still, and not too hot or cold (about 5 ºC).

The strangest part of the day was riding through the middle of a fake-village.  There were dozens of house-shells – they seem to have walls, roofs, floors, fences and little else.  Clearly these are used for urban warfare training. The only real thing in the village was the church, which had parishioners walking to it; there were a lot of people around.  [A little research shows that this was the village of Imber – it was evacuated in 1943 for the war effort & the villagers have never been allowed to return as the MOD continues to use the land – a lot like Tyneham which I happened across during another biking weekend in May.  The church is no longer in use, but the roads that we were riding along are open occasionally so the public can have a look around.]

As this was the last event of a year of much biking, I was pretty keen to see how quickly I could get around the course.  So I only stopped for forty seconds on the whole ride to get some food out of my pack; also, this meant I didn’t even carry my camera – so I only have my memory of how splendid the countryside was.  After passing plenty of birdwatchers, derelict tanks, garrisons & barracks we finally got off the road. More short steep ups & downs later we were back along the ridge looking north for a while – I’m a little disturbed at my ability to recognise a cement works from a long distance.  I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to ride past a huge hole in the ground shortly after – the limestone had to come from somewhere after all.

We rejoined the two shorter courses for a while before diving off the ridge for one last really steep nasty climb.  With a nice bit of singletrack in some woods, the car park & therefore finish line was tantalisingly close for much too long.  But it was worth getting to the finish line for the cake alone – a local hospice was fundraising and there was a plethora of cakes on offer, there was so much choice it was overwhelming.  So not the most interesting course, but a great day out on the bike to end a pretty big year of riding for me – & a good chance to catch up with mates too.  I was happy with finishing in 2:40, without really pushing myself just not stopping for chats, photos or much food.

Overnight ride – trying out a lot of gear for the first time

Friday past I finally got around to trying out almost all the new kit I’d acquired over the summer on a rather easy overnight bikepacking trip with a couple of guys from the local club. For those not really interested in bikes, I didn’t even take any photos as it was pretty much all in the dark – so sorry about that.  I’ll cover the ride first & then give some initial impressions of the new gear.

All week I’d kept an eye on the forecast for Friday night – as the weekend approached, the expected temperature kept dropping.  So my bike was a bit more loaded than I initially thought it would be as I met Mike & James at Chilworth Arms for a quick pint before heading out into the winter’s night.  It’s been about a year since I’ve been on a night ride, my single handlebar light set-up is adequate but nothing fancy.  I’d forgotten how much fun night-riding is when it’s not raining or ridiculously muddy.  We mostly rode bridleways & farm tracks due north – connected by the odd country road.  Being Hampshire, there weren’t really any climbs of note, although the Beacon Hill downhill was enjoyable & comparatively long.  The pace was nothing too strenuous, which I was happy to go along with as I got used to riding a heavier bike than usual.

With an almost-full moon out I was loving riding through the countryside that could have only been English – reminded by the silhouettes of very cute villages; in the daylight it all looked very expensive, but in the dark the detail was lost & it just looked nice.  By nine o’clock it was time to stop at our northern-most point, Crawley, and head for dinner at the lovely Fox & Hounds.  For some reason the other two weren’t content with a few pints and dinner – I wasn’t prepared to try & keep up as the Jack Daniels & Coke and brandies flowed.  It was all very enjoyable and I haven’t been quizzed on so many details of New Zealand for a long time.  Those drunker than me were quite surprised by the size of the bill, but that was eventually settled and as the bar staff declared we were quite mad, we rolled away at one o’clock – some in straighter lines than others.

The chosen camp area was about an hour back south (on a more easterly route – closer to Winchester) and somehow I (the only one who wasn’t familiar with the area) ended up navigating.  I’m not sure what the villagers of Sparsholt must have thought about much laughter when Mike managed to ride into a large & obvious hedge & then fall on the ground.  We made camp at two o’clock and settled in for the night – I was declared soft for having a tent, the other two happy to sleep with no cover on a fine frosty night.  Not surprisingly, we didn’t stir until nine-thirty on a cracking Saturday morning.  After a light breakfast & decamping we were riding shortly after the hour back to my car.

So a very manageable introduction to bikepacking that I thoroughly enjoyed – helped by some superb weather & good company.

Now for some quick thoughts on those items I was using for the first time on a bikepacking trip. Below is a photo of the set-up that is almost as I used on the weekend – the main difference being the dry bags were fully loaded due to the clear, cold night.

The thirteen litre dry-bag on the handlebars is secured to a Wildcat Mountain Lion harness. The dry-bag was packed to the gunwales with my tent & poles and winter sleeping bag. The harness held it securely, although on the return trip I had to tighten the straps as I must’ve repacked it differently. I did find that with the dry-bag so full, I had to lock the front fork out as the bag would rub on the front tyre if the fork compressed too far – I don’t expect this to be a problem for most of my bikepacking in summer as the bag won’t be so heavily loaded.

On the back of the saddle, the eight litre dry-bag is held in a Wildcat Tiger. In the picture, it isn’t loaded very much – but it definitely was for this trip. At first I thought that I wouldn’t be able to fit the full bag in, & even if I could it would rub on the rear tyre. But some careful adjustment of the straps had the bag in the harness & securely held. I was very impressed by how stable the bag was – it didn’t swing around at all; in fact, I occasionally had to turn around to check the dry-bag was still in the harness – so oblivious was I to its presence.

In the middle of frame is the custom-made (you trace your frame on to a piece of cardboard & send it to them) Alpkit Stingray frame bag.  I’ve had this for a few months, so know that it performs just as it should – for this ride I’d stuffed it full of all sorts of little things, I’ll have to get a bit more organised for longer tours.

My water carrying for this little trip was courtesy of two bottles attached to each leg of my front fork – not shown in the picture (the bottles, that is).  For this I’ve got two monkii cages mounted on monkii clips – as I’ve swapped out the rigid fork for a suspension fork there are no longer any cage mounts.  The clips are secure and I don’t have a problem carrying a full 750 mL bottle.  However, while it is possible to carry a one litre Nalgene bottle on the cage, if it does get bumpy the bottle can escape – so it’s worth securing it to the fork.  I need to rethink this a bit.  Also, while having bottles mounted on the forks is good for carrying water – it’s no good for hydration while riding as it’s a faff to have to stop to drink.  So I need to get a bottle holder on the handlebars somewhere.  I found on this trip I didn’t drink at all while riding – that was OK as it was pretty cool, so dehydration wasn’t a problem (the pub stops helped too). But in warmer conditions, this would be a problem.

I’ve also got a tiny meths stove – it’s only good for heating up enough water to make a cup of porridge or a hot drink.  It’s suitable for such a small trip, but I’ll have to get around to making some sort of penny stove out of a beer can for larger cooking requirements.

I’d been eyeing up various lightweight single-person tents that I could easily carry on my handlebars for some time when Megan mentioned that she was keen on the Six Moon Designs – Skyscape Trekker.  It ticked all the boxes I needed it too, so I rather hurriedly bought it (much to Megan’s chagrin) and arranged to have it shipped to Boston during my recent visit – craftily avoiding high shipping costs & twenty percent VAT. It definitely is lightweight & the material is subsequently very thin – but I haven’t torn it yet; most importantly, it’s very easy to carry on the bike.  I had one practice run a couple of weeks ago pitching it in a gale out in the New Forest – I managed that OK, so five pegs & two poles at two o’clock in the morning was a cinch.  I did notice that my thermarest Neoair does tend to slide around a fair bit on the floor of the tent when I moved in my sleeping bag – possibly not helped by the slight incline I was on.  It seems good so far, more nights sleeping in it will show if that’s correct.

That’s probably enough gear reviews for one post.

Kentish long-weekend

After a big weekend of riding the previous week, where I managed to pull a muscle in my knee on the Saturday making Sunday’s large singlespeed ride rather painful, it seemed to a good idea to leave the bike(s) at home for the last long weekend of the summer. The physio sorted out my knee quickly, but recommended I do some form of exercise other than biking – a thought that hadn’t crossed my mind recently. So I went for a run & pulled a muscle in my foot – I promptly gave up running.

Not taking bikes, meant that the four of us could all fit in the same car as we travelled to a quaint 15th century cottage we had rented for the weekend – our base for a friends’ wedding. It’s quite fun staying in a house that is more than twice as old as the country you’re from. Happily, I also had a long weekend for my birthday for the first time in my life – a rather dismal day weather wise, we pretty much spent the day eating well too much. We also managed to fit a visit to Canterbury Cathedral in (I’d been before with Trish a few years ago, so as the weather was pants I didn’t really take many photos).  Eventually we settled on a huge roast dinner and if that didn’t fill me up – the two birthday cakes certainly helped.

Plenty of exposed beams

Kings Head Cottage – plenty of room for us all

Across the village green

One of the older houses in Chartham

Thankfully, the wedding day had considerably better weather than my birthday.  Laura & Luis got engaged before I started working here in the UK, so it was good to see all the plans that we’ve heard so much of come to fruition.  The service was all very traditional (dearly beloved, have & to hold etc.) and quite good fun, I still can’t sing very well though.  On seeing the wedding car, below, I immediately had to get a few snaps for Uncle Geoff back in Australia – I’m pretty sure Bentleys of such age are his favourite.

With a bit too much time to spare between ceremony & evening wedding party, we went down to the white cliffs at Dover in our gladrags – where we picniced on the beach, mucked around, went to the pub and then wandered a bit on top of the cliffs.

After the speeches was the dancing for the night – a céilidh.  Basically a gaelic folk dance, it reminded me of the (awful) folk-dancing endured at primary school – but it was miles better due to there being a good band, a caller to tell me what to do and no longer being scared of girl-germs.  But I still had little idea what I was doing – but it really didn’t matter as plenty others didn’t either.  A huge pig-on-a-spit topped the night off nicely; amusingly the happy couple drove off in a tuk-tuk.