Hello Winter.
Posted: Thu Nov 22, 2018 7:14 pm
I'll openly admit that for one reason or another (mainly another) overnight trips have been less frequent for me this year, especially those off the cuff quickies, so when Mike suggested we head out I thought it'd be a good opportunity to ease back into the swing of things. Any plan amounted to little more than 3 or 4 crosses on a map and a time / place to meet. I managed to make a bugger of the time bit by standing round a cold carpark for 20 minutes, only to then discover that Mike had spent the same 20 minutes sat inside the warm cafe next door
The crosses on the map marked the locations of something potentially interesting, namely would be bothies. After striking gold with the first and feeling confident, we set off in search of the second.
"Do you reckon this track carries on over that ridge?" "yeah, it's bound to" ... after 10 years of doing this crap we really should know better but when neither of you are known for sense or caution things can quickly get out of hand. The track did actually carry on but only for 200 yards. At which point it turned into a mixture of knee high bilberry and snow with a generous helping of blanket bog. Although we never turned a pedal, the next 2 hours were brilliant fun and climaxed in the slippiest river crossing I've ever had the pleasure of before normal service was resumed.
With socks rung out and snow, ice and water removed from shoes, we continued our quest for the second cross. It was now dark and properly cold, feet had gone through the stages of tingly and numb and had come to rest at very painful; a forest road climb became the perfect excuse for a little stroll to try and beat some life back into them. It was a good track but quickly became a narrow path before eventually terminating without warning at some trees ... There was nowt there, or at least there wasn't until an involuntary chance shiver jerked Mike's bars and cast his light across the river and through the trees. There was near uncontrolled excitement as the beam picked out an obvious roof amongst the trees. 3 minutes later we were inside and delighted by what we'd found.
It may have felt like the early hours of the morning but was in fact just after tea time. It would be a very long and probably a cold night if we stopped now. There was an option of hot food and it lay about 5 miles away but it wasn't a local pub full of farmers and lumberjacks but a posh country hotel and spa ... we elected to go anyway. We were unsure quite how welcome we'd be but by the time we left, we'd washed our socks in the toilet sink, being given a 'reserved' table in front of the stove, invited to dry our boots next to it, given some tea lights, eaten a meal, had a blind eye turned to wandering round the hotel with bare feet and we even 'borrowed' some wood from their log basket for later.
When later came and we began to pedal the bitterly cold 5 miles back to our earlier discovery, it was soon obvious that the chances of reaching it were slim because between it and us lay another structure that could provide cosy accommodation for the night. There was little convincing required from either party and by 10.30 we were tucked up and slowly thawing out.
Morning brought with it the added pleasure of donning cold wet socks but spirits remained aloft with the knowlege that coffee and a sausage butty wasn't too far away. After that, it was simply a matter of a few hills to get us back to where we'd begun ... hello Winter, I've kind of missed you.
The crosses on the map marked the locations of something potentially interesting, namely would be bothies. After striking gold with the first and feeling confident, we set off in search of the second.
"Do you reckon this track carries on over that ridge?" "yeah, it's bound to" ... after 10 years of doing this crap we really should know better but when neither of you are known for sense or caution things can quickly get out of hand. The track did actually carry on but only for 200 yards. At which point it turned into a mixture of knee high bilberry and snow with a generous helping of blanket bog. Although we never turned a pedal, the next 2 hours were brilliant fun and climaxed in the slippiest river crossing I've ever had the pleasure of before normal service was resumed.
With socks rung out and snow, ice and water removed from shoes, we continued our quest for the second cross. It was now dark and properly cold, feet had gone through the stages of tingly and numb and had come to rest at very painful; a forest road climb became the perfect excuse for a little stroll to try and beat some life back into them. It was a good track but quickly became a narrow path before eventually terminating without warning at some trees ... There was nowt there, or at least there wasn't until an involuntary chance shiver jerked Mike's bars and cast his light across the river and through the trees. There was near uncontrolled excitement as the beam picked out an obvious roof amongst the trees. 3 minutes later we were inside and delighted by what we'd found.
It may have felt like the early hours of the morning but was in fact just after tea time. It would be a very long and probably a cold night if we stopped now. There was an option of hot food and it lay about 5 miles away but it wasn't a local pub full of farmers and lumberjacks but a posh country hotel and spa ... we elected to go anyway. We were unsure quite how welcome we'd be but by the time we left, we'd washed our socks in the toilet sink, being given a 'reserved' table in front of the stove, invited to dry our boots next to it, given some tea lights, eaten a meal, had a blind eye turned to wandering round the hotel with bare feet and we even 'borrowed' some wood from their log basket for later.
When later came and we began to pedal the bitterly cold 5 miles back to our earlier discovery, it was soon obvious that the chances of reaching it were slim because between it and us lay another structure that could provide cosy accommodation for the night. There was little convincing required from either party and by 10.30 we were tucked up and slowly thawing out.
Morning brought with it the added pleasure of donning cold wet socks but spirits remained aloft with the knowlege that coffee and a sausage butty wasn't too far away. After that, it was simply a matter of a few hills to get us back to where we'd begun ... hello Winter, I've kind of missed you.