Random encounters, they're life affirming

[robsmuddygloves]

I recently came back from a wonderful two nighter in Brecon with a mate, big thanks to Verena for some insider knowledge. Whilst the riding and splendour of Wales were magnificent, one thing will stay cherished in my memories forever more. On our first night we'd reached a peak and had set up for the night, when out of the darkness we could see two sets of light approaching us. Fearing the worst, I was ready to have to pack up and find another spot, however it turned out to be two incredibly cheery Polish fellas out for a late night ride. Their gregarious nature was infectious, helped even more when they insisted we share a bottle of flavoured vodka with them. After we'd shared a tale or two, and the bottle had been drained, they bade us farewell and cycled down the peak roaring with laughter. A totally and unexpected encounter that was wonderful. Anyone else experienced a life affirming random experience on their travels?

[RIP]

They certainly are! Nice post, 'Gloves, a subject close to my heart. Random encounters are one of the main reasons I love the 'wandering about' style of bikepacking - it lends itself to, and indeed seems to act as a lightning rod for, weird and wonderful happenings.

Whilst I enjoy scenery etc as much as the next rider, as you have shown the best encounters involve people. As Stu once said, nobody cares how far you rode but did you see the farmer with the chicken on his head....

Stories? How long have you got?

I have to say, of course, that the number of these occurences per journey is in inverse proportion to the level of detail of any 'plan' multiplied by the desire to stick rigidly to that plan .

[frogatthefarriers]

Not bike related, but life affirming? Oh yes.

Many years ago Mrs Frog and I were in Ireland for 4 nights. 1st night was in Avoca (where they'd filmed Ballykissangel), then in Killarney and then we would look for a B&B somewhere near the ferry port at Dublin. The trouble was, that at the same time that we were there, so was Robbie Williams. As a consequence there was no accomodation to be had anywhere so we settled in a car park at Glendaloch to sleep in the car. The midges were horrendous and every exit for bladder relief was followed by a hunt for the hoards of midges that found their way in while the door was open.

In the morning, Mrs Frog went to use the "facilities" and was surprised by the cleaner. When my wife told this lady of our predicament, she immediately offered the use of the shower at her house. Not only that, she made us breakfast. She wouldn't take payment either. A lovely lady and we've never forgotten her kindness. God bless her.

So now, whenever some sh1tbag raises his/her ugly head to do someone down, we remember this lady and know that there are good people out there too.

[Alpinum]

[...]A totally and unexpected encounter that was wonderful. Anyone else experienced a life affirming random experience on their travels?

Lovely
Reminds me of meeting a Polish fella hiking across Iceland.

It was 2016, early autumn, one of the last nice days, warm in the sun, but a cold wind and freezing at night with the aurora showing. I had stopped due to a tyre bead tearing off the sidewall early evening. Assessed the situation and my options; quick fix of issue, go back to the rare spring water, get water and spend a lovely (and last) night in the highlands. Solve the issue tomorrow. Once I had fetched water I went up a hillock to look for a good bivy spot, when a bloke in underpants walked up to me and said "Hi" as if it was the most normal thing to roam the highlands in underpants and nothing else. "Do you need help?"
Before anything else.
We had a lovely evening chatting about life and route choices and went each in our own direction the next morning. I felt like wildlife meeting at a water hole. He carried a huge bottle of rum (next to a cupboard of a rucksack). He called himself Morgan (after the rum)...

Just one of what must be thousands of stories about encounters with strangers, some of which have become friends.
I'm happy to have been able to live through a huge spectrum; from risking to getting poisoned by buddhists in a mountain range Messner hadn't visited (my proof is a photo I took, signed by him saying "Da war ich noch nie. R. Messner"), to being threatened at gun point (don't tell my Mum), to getting gifts (mostly food, but also ornamented knives, drugs etc.) and was also offered love besides tea and biscuits.
Most recent one abroad was a free cinnamon bun at a bakery between Mjödd and Reykjavik (Brauð & Co, Hrísateigur 47, 105 Reykjavík). Lena from the bakery saw my bike outside and asked what I was up to. We had a nice little chat and she insisted on giving me the bun for free. On the other hand I offered to carry a industrial sized washing machine from a 45" super jeep to a container at Hveravellir (in the middle of nowhere - again in Iceland).

It can be just 30 metres from home where I ride up to hikers (hiking path goes past our house) and end up with a wonderful chat about just about any topic.
I often get talking with farmers on my rides and end up in timeless chinwags, always learning something new about the land they cultivate, keep animals on, leaving me with just this

life affirming? Oh yes

.

As a cyclist or hiker you surely get quite some experience out of travelling. No matter if you want it or not.

For years I've been saying that the more remote a place, the more helpful the folks.

Also a civilised place doesn't make humans automatically civilised.

[Bearbonesnorm]

I once met Ronnie Corbett on a track near Nant y Moch.

[RIP]

gun point

Can't beat that story . Although one imagines it's more life threatening than life affirming

[psling]

I once met Ronnie Corbett on a track near Nant y Moch.

The interesting thing is, when he relates the tale of meeting you he settles down in his chair and spends about half an hour doing so...

[jameso]

That's great Rob.. I think the best trip experiences are simple and amusing encounters with friendly folk like that. Often involving a drink too : )

[RIP]

I once met Ronnie Corbett on a track near Nant y Moch.

The interesting thing is, when he relates the tale of meeting you he settles down in his chair and spends about half an hour doing so...

[Bearbonesnorm]

He sat proudly on the top of my shoe. I watched him take one last look around before lowering himself into the murky depths of my footwear. Quite why the slugs who inhabited this particular expanse of Welsh moorland, had a fascination with the inside of my boots is a mystery. I removed myself from my bivvy bag, then for the third time that morning, removed a fat black slug from my shoe. I had no idea what time it was, the sun was up and it was a glorious morning but at the start of July that means very little, so I decided it must be brew time. I packed my gear away while the stove worked its magic, remembering to check for stowaways in or on every item.

Add contents of sachet to mug of boiling water, stir vigorously with empty sachet and enjoy. Clutching my coffee, I wondered a few metres up the hillside and sat on top of the world to survey the coming day. I was wide awake, I wanted to get moving but I also wanted to stay. Here, I was alone, there was no one to answer to, no one else to consider, I was truly free. Down there were people, interactment, confrontation but also breakfast - I retreated back down the hill and prepared to fly my mountain eyrie. The first mile was much more 'lumbering vulture' than 'soaring eagle', sometimes the track was vague but when it was present, it was rutted and overgrown. Eventually gravity came to my rescue and pushed me down the hillside through the tussocks and rushes before abandoning me on the edge of a forest and the start of smooth gravel track.

What rural communities lack in numbers, is often made up for in spirit and an hour after departing my hill-top fort, I found a shrine to this spirit. Standing at the side of a tiny, winding lane stood the community centre, its previous life as a chapel now replaced by coffee mornings and young farmers pantomimes. Leaning against its imposing rendered walls was a smaller building of stone, wood and slate - it was the community public convenience. Sandstone tiles, fresh flowers and real soap were too good an opportunity to miss and sometime later I emerged squeaky clean and pearly white. A small bench outside provided a seat from where I could make another brew and enjoy a packet of salt and vinegar flavoured peanuts I'd found earlier while descending off the mountains - yes, they were unopened.

Clip, clop, clip, clop - must be a horse I thought or maybe more than one. Perhaps a heavy cart being drawn along by four big Welsh cobs or maybe it's … fifteen young women dressed in T shirts, knickers and high heels. Although surprised by what presented itself , I was in no way disappointed. I greeted them with a "Mornin' ladies" as they filed into the upmarket toilet block. Although salubrious it wasn't spacious, even once I'd pointed out that they might as well use the gents, a number still remained outside. A brief conversation followed and I discovered they were camping at a farm a little way up the lane, that the facilities here were much nicer than at the farm and it had just turned seven thirty. With a heavy heart I packed my stove away and resumed my ride to the coast.

Considering I was riding from the Welsh highlands and heading for the rich, fertile flatlands of Pembrokeshire I seemed to be riding uphill rather a lot. Apart from hills, the day was filled with country lanes, old drove roads and just to keep my strength up, the occasional visit to a village bakery. For the sake of argument, I'm going to say the time was around four o'clock. I found myself at a crossroads and in the hope of finding some supplies for what would no doubt be a long evening, I consulted the map. With a decision made, I pushed the map deep back inside my jersey pocket and was just about to pedal off, when a battered red pick-up truck drew alongside me. "Are you lost?" the croaky voice driving asked. "No, not at all, just deciding which way to go", "go where?", "St Davids", I replied. "You don't wanna go there" the voice said helpfully, "it's a long way". I explained that although it was quite a long way, it wasn't really that far and I had no choice in my destination as I'd arranged to meet someone. I thought my explanation made perfect sense but it quickly became apparent that my co-navigator believed my logic to be flawed. "There's places you could go that are much nearer", he lent out of the truck window and pointed towards the wooden road sign opposite, "see, Eglwyswrw is only six miles and they've got a pub". "Have all the pubs in St Davids closed?" I asked, "don't know, I don't go, it's a long way". Any words I had would have been wasted, I nodded and smiled a smile that I hoped would convey the message - thank you, very insightful, now piss off. It didn't work, in fact it seemed to encourage him, "is it a mountain bike?". With little idea where this new line of questioning was headed, I simply answered "yes". "Why are you riding it on the road?" Maybe I could induce a sensory overload in my inquisitor?, I had nothing to lose, "rather than a mountain bike, consider it an all terrain bike, so you're able ride it on any type of surface" I replied. "What, even roads?", "yes, even roads", I half shouted back at him. "If I had one of them, I'd take it over the Preselli hills". Was he doing this on purpose? I wondered, "but the Preselli hills on are the way to St Davids" I said remembering to omit the words 'you old bastard' before I spoke. He crunched his way into first gear and with something which might have been a wink, said "Aye, spose they are".

[boxelder]

In 2016, I did a wee tour with my brother which stopped at Ben Alder Cottage, so that we could see some HT550 types struggle over 'that bridge'......
When we arrived there were three Polish folks in residence. They'd walked in, via an adventure along some loch side non path and were happily clearing the area of rubbish. I left my brother chatting to them and had a pedal up to the col. When I got back there were some very concerned looking DofE leaders from some posh girls school, stood watching while my brother had his bad back and stiff hips stretched out by the now even more friendly Polish guys. I have to admit, it did look like something from the Karma Sutra as Jan had my bro folded over on the lawn, with the biggest joint/spliff/dooby hanging from his gob. It was just at that moment that the dozen or so impressionable teenage girls arrived and the staff began to fluster
Jan and his mates left that bothy cleaner than a Caravan Club Gazebo.

[Alpinum]

gun point

Can't beat that story . Although one imagines it's more life threatening than life affirming

The feeling I had afterwards was very life-affirming

[redefined_cycles]

gun point

Can't beat that story . Although one imagines it's more life threatening than life affirming

The feeling I had afterwards was very life-affirming

Not on a mountain-bike but many many moons ago whilst visiting an overcrowded place in Europe. As I waited for my uncle (I think I was 19) some random chap came and pulled out a knife on me. Think it was blunt and my (fearful) instinct had me grab both his hands.

Not sure what happened after that but he didn't take anything, nor hang around for very long. Life affirming indeed, after which there was much reflection

Had it been a gun, I'm not sure but maybe things would have turned out very different Scary stuff (it wasn't a Crocodile Dundee rype of knife but probably the opposite that my gut reaction was to grab his hands).

Back on topic... When I was first training to try and ride the Mary Townley Loop with my first ever proper waterproof jacket. I met two walkers on the Wessenden Head track and it was probably the first time I asked someone to take a pic of me (maybe the excitement of training for my first ever plus-40 mile ride).

(Pic coming here).

[RIP]

Go on then. You've heard this one before but I feel duty bound to redress the balance back towards "nice people doing unexpected nice things", after all these tales of shootings, stabbings, being blown up and generally having an unpleasant time .

Quite a few years ago I took my lad back to Aberystwyth university on the train after a break. Despite me being guilty for sending him to Aber solely because I wanted to visit him there , I didn't know the area in great detail at that time so I took my bike and gear intending to wander around afterwards.

I decided to train it the short distance back to Mach late afternoon and ride north as far as I could the next day, then catch another train home further up the coast from whichever the nearest station happened to be. Obviously I had no fixed route or kipping location for that night. There was snow on the ground and freezing temperatures.

I found a random pub in a tiny darkened hamlet, which was basically someone's front room and subsequently became one of my favourite watering holes, and sat there on a bar stool quietly nursing a pint. It was 5.30pm. Gradually eased my way into the various local conversations and had a grand old time, including quite an intense chat with a lady lecturer from Aber for an hour or so. Turned out it was her hubby sat on the other side of her. Ahem.

Anyway, I had such fun that I unintentionally rendered myself over-refreshed and suddenly realised it was 11.30pm. The barman offered what in later years became my favourite question: "so where are you staying then?". Upon learning that I had no idea he said nobody would mind if I kipped on the nearby "village green".

My meagre shelter was a 9' x 7' DCF tarp, and I set that up on the snow and eased myself into my sleeping bag.

At midnight I had dosed off, but woke up to suddenly see, blearily, a shimmering diaphanous female apparition floating towards me across the snow, like some sort of land-bound Lady of the Lake. The Aber lecturer seeking me out to continue our budding relationship perhaps?

The apparition gently enquired after my well-being. Was I OK and did I realise what the temperature was? This was uttered in a voice appealingly similar to the bunny in the Cadbury's Caramel TV advert. (For younger readers, youtube will explain its effect upon me) ((apparently the bunny was voiced by Miriam Margolyes, which surprised me)).

I affirmed that I was in a satisfactory condition and that the landlord had told me it was -3degC.

The apparition considered this for a moment. "Don't go away" she purred (afterwards this statement struck me as hilarious - where would I be going?), "we need to warm you up". As you can imagine all sorts of eventualities were jumbled in my inebriated head. She floated away.

She reappeared bearing a quilt and a pillow, saying that I was welcome to have them for the night. I was somewhat stunned but gratefully accepted them with thanks and began to snuggle down again, as the apparition turned to return whence she came wherever that might be.

A thought suddenly struck me. "Um, but where shall I leave them in the morning?". She glanced back, thought for a second, and said "Oh. Well that's my car over there. I'll leave it unlocked and you can put them in there when you leave". With that she bade me good night and faded away into the snowy darkness.

I slept well, and the apparition did not return. Upon waking, I couldn't believe the encounter had happened but the quilt and pillow were proof that indeed it had.

I packed ready to leave, and carried the bedclothes over to the car and deposited them on the front seat, closing the door afterwards. Luckily I had a scrap of paper and a stub of pencil, so I left a little note saying "You Are Officially A Very Nice Person".

I've been back many times since that first occasion, but her ladyship has never made another appearance.

[voodoo_simon]

Hopefully my friend won’t mind me saying this but he went on a year cycle tour, stayed at a warm showers and took a fancy to the host whilst in Turkey.

Short version, he finished his tour, she moved to England for a couple of years and then both moved to Canada (she’s Canadian) he’s now married to her, got his citizenship for Canada and now they have a little one

Funny how life works out

[Mart]

over-refreshed
And
Miriam Margolyes

After reading that Reg, the two things above stood out
Over refreshed Is that even possible

And I didn’t know Mariam Margoyles did the bunny voice.
Not quite the image I had in my head

[RIP]

And I didn’t know Mariam Margoyles did the bunny voice.
Not quite the image I had in my head

Me neither! Although for all I know she might have a nice fluffy tail.

[Verena]

Well, I wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for a random encounter on a train in North Wales...

[voodoo_simon]

Well, I wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for a random encounter on a train in North Wales...

Here as in here* or here as in here**?


* life itself
** bearbones forum

[redefined_cycles]

Well, I wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for a random encounter on a train in North Wales...

Here as in here* or here as in here**?


* life itself
** bearbones forum

I vote option 2... Bet it was Reg. He's always on the train for some reason.

[Verena]

Oh, yes, of course, I meant here as in bearbones.
No, not Reg oddly enough, it was Jesko von Werthern and his bike, en route to his third Transatlantic Way in erm must have been 2018?? He told me about bikepacking.

Here as in here at all, no that was a boat in Croatia, and involved an invite to a day trip to a nudist island, and what would eventually become my mum thinking, what the hell why not, it's not like I'm ever going to see that guy again is it, who cares...

More recently though, ok still a couple of years ago, and sorry if I've told you this before as well, I was merrily riding my bike down some lane, came round a bend, and right there in the middle of the lane stood, no wobbled, a very sweet, very ancient, lurcher dog, very literally on her last legs. I stopped to stroke her, a minute later a garden gate opens and out pops - a guy I vaguely knew from work but had hardly ever spoken to. A conversation about dogs and bikes, and we've become friends from there.