Oof, that last pic.

Bearlegged wrote: ↑Thu Apr 24, 2025 9:52 pm Oof, that last pic.

Thank you - it is one of a few amazing little places, right on the edge of town, and not a pretty town, and then there's these little gems.... they were all ponds to feed the Nantyglo iron works. Have been looking at old OS maps today...

April on my doorstep Bivi done. Ride from the house for 20 mins to get where I wanted, how lucky am I. My partner in crime was unable to come so just me and the wind. Main reason was to test my new Wild Country Coshee micro tent which was £45 from Sports Direct the other day. Yes you heard that price correct. Saw it on on the wild country site as an EOL at £70 ( still a good price) and a bit of internetage later popped on sports direct with a discount. Anyhow the reason was test it for a HT550 ITT in a few weeks. Competed twice before with a bivi, this time fancied some luxury. This is basically a posh bivi and works really well, survived the gusts last night and I was able to get changed in it which was always the bivi downside. It will be coming to Scotland with me.

April bivi done. Rode towards home after a great week off in the Lakes and headed into a nearby Nature Reserve. Despite a weird incident where someone with a very bright headtorch seemed to be searching for me then found me and then buggered off I got a reasonable spot and some sleep. Up before dawn and away home. I’ll try to get a report done and put it in Mostly Coasting.

Despite a weird incident where someone with a very bright headtorch seemed to be searching for me then found me and then buggered off

https://youtube.com/shorts/OiBDDs0LZKk? ... VSZpiOZ14n

Nah, it was weirder than that.

I ticked off April’s BAM last Thursday evening. I’d intended setting out earlier in the day but some last minute domestic admin kiboshed that. I finally ended up leaving the house at 8.30 pm and it wasn’t long before the sun was setting.

Dean Village by Jimmy G, on Flickr

Colinton Tunnel by Jimmy G, on Flickr

I’d decided to make a return to the Pentland Hills just south of Edinburgh where I haven’t bivvied for a couple of years. In fact, Thursday’s bivvy was in a piece of woodland I’d last camped in six years ago. I mostly followed the Water of Leith cycle path out to Balerno then climbed up towards the Pentlands reservoirs. It was a very windy night although fortunately it was a tailwind most of the way. Bloomin’ chilly though.

On arrival at my chosen site I saw that since I last visited many of the less robust trees had obviously succumbed to the high winds we’ve seen in recent years, leaving a tangled mess of trunks all over the place. In fact, the winds last Thursday were causing some of the thinner trees to creak and sway precariously and I feared that some more might come toppling down. I searched for a while until I found four stout trees fairly close together, to hopefully provide decent protection in the event of any of their skinnier relatives falling.

I’d had dinner before I left home so didn’t bother having anything else and just settled down in my sleeping bag and bivvy bag combo. I’d opted to bring no overhead cover since, for better or worse, I’d chosen to believe the weather forecasters’ prediction of a dry night. They proved to be right on this occasion, fortunately. As a bonus, the wind dropped considerably in the early hours of the morning and I was able to enjoy a carefree sleep.

Tree Casualties by Jimmy G, on Flickr

Sit mat marks the bivvy spot! by Jimmy G, on Flickr

The day dawned bright and breezy but the wind was nothing like as strong as the previous evening. Btw I forgot to take a bivvy pic so a 'sit mat marks the spot' pic will have to suffice. I packed up, rode past the Harlaw and Thriepmuir reservoirs and descended into Balerno for an alfresco breakfast in the sun, courtesy of the neighbourhood Co-Op. From there I descended a bit further, eventually joining the Union Canal and rode the rest of the way into town on the canal path.

Thriepmuir Reservoir by Jimmy G, on Flickr

Thriepmuir Reservoir by Jimmy G, on Flickr

Union Canal by Jimmy G, on Flickr

In summary, that’s 4/4 for this year and a total of 88 consecutive BAMs.

In the first photo, that curious little castle thing next to the bridge... got a tiny red door... out of scale with all the other buildings..... I'll bet when you return next day it won't be there and never will have been there before and locals will not believe you when you say it was.......

Had to have another look myself. I see what you mean Reg. 10 out of 10 for observation… and for a vivid imagination!

Despite my best intentions i had to settle for another local bivvy so off up the Malverns i went it was a glorious evening i left reasonably early and enjoyed a decent ride before searching for a room with a view i was determined to find somewhere new. I followed some sheep tracks and found an ideal spot out on the flanks of the hills where i had the best nights sleep i have ever had while bivvying.
PXL_20250429_041254466 by Kevin Hawker, on Flickr
I was woken by a very cheery blackbird and treated to nice sunrise
PXL_20250429_044720125 by Kevin Hawker, on Flickr
It is fairly dry up there so decided the meths burner could stay where it was and coffee would have to wait until i got home. I went back on a round about route to check that my recent claim that the bluebell and wild garlic display is as good as anywhere in the country held water
PXL_20250429_053809961 by Kevin Hawker, on Flickr
The garlic was stunning the bluebells past their best unfortunately
PXL_20250429_054133942 by Kevin Hawker, on Flickr
What felt like box ticking before i set off turned into a memorable night out,

4/12 for this year

JimmyG wrote: ↑Tue Apr 29, 2025 8:42 am and for a vivid imagination!

one of my many burdens, sigh....

RIP wrote: ↑Tue Apr 29, 2025 3:34 pm

JimmyG wrote: ↑Tue Apr 29, 2025 8:42 am and for a vivid imagination!

one of my many burdens, sigh....

Your earlier comment put me in mind of Brigadoon!

April’s Bivvy: Christchurch to Nine Barrow Down

With a promising forecast and a few days clear on the calendar, I packed light and rolled out from Christchurch. The route took me along familiar cycle paths through quiet stretches of suburbia and green corridors towards Wimborne. The pace was easy, the traffic light, and the morning sun warming the hedgerows.

From Wimborne, I picked up the Castleman Trailway—a disused railway now reclaimed by trees, gravel, and the occasional dog walker. It’s a gentle, meandering route that led me through Upton and then onwards to Wareham, mostly via quiet roads and cycle tracks.

Arriving at Wareham Quay, I treated myself to a pint of cider by the river. The sun was out, the water calm, and I had no particular schedule. A few paddleboarders drifted past and I took the chance to rest in the late afternoon warmth.

From the quay, I followed the river to Ridge, then turned south across heathland—bridleways and narrow lanes threading through gorse and pine. It was here, somewhere between glances at the sky and thoughts of dinner, that I realised I’d left my rucksack back at the pub.

A rapid return to Wareham followed—more urgent than elegant—but I found the rucksack safely behind the bar. Grateful, I retraced my route once more and climbed steadily up to Nine Barrow Down.

At the top, I met Bob, who’d walked in from Corfe. We pitched up near the ancient barrows—Neolithic burial mounds silhouetted against the sky. The views were everything we’d hoped: Poole Harbour to the north, Swanage to the south, and a fading sunset between.

We cooked a simple paella, shared a few beers, and let the quietness of the ridge settle around us. Later, zipped into bivvy bags among the ancient mounds, we drifted off under a clear sky.

Morning brought a soft pink glow and sweeping views across the landscape. Breakfast was Dorset muesli, followed by scrambled eggs with smoked salmon on toast, accompanied by lashings of tea and coffee. Once washed up and packed down, we said our goodbyes—Bob on foot, me back on the bike.

The final leg took me across Rempstone Heath, still and golden in the morning light. I descended to Studland, caught the ferry across the harbour, and followed the promenade
A fine short ride with just the right mix of movement, mishap, and stillness.

Raggedstone wrote: ↑Tue Apr 29, 2025 10:33 am Despite my best intentions i had to settle for another local bivvy so off up the Malverns i went it was a glorious evening i left reasonably early and enjoyed a decent ride before searching for a room with a view i was determined to find somewhere new. I followed some sheep tracks and found an ideal spot out on the flanks of the hills where i had the best nights sleep i have ever had while bivvying.
PXL_20250429_041254466 by Kevin Hawker, on Flickr
I was woken by a very cheery blackbird and treated to nice sunrise
PXL_20250429_044720125 by Kevin Hawker, on Flickr
It is fairly dry up there so decided the meths burner could stay where it was and coffee would have to wait until i got home. I went back on a round about route to check that my recent claim that the bluebell and wild garlic display is as good as anywhere in the country held water
PXL_20250429_053809961 by Kevin Hawker, on Flickr
The garlic was stunning the bluebells past their best unfortunately
PXL_20250429_054133942 by Kevin Hawker, on Flickr
What felt like box ticking before i set off turned into a memorable night out,

4/12 for this year

That looks and sounds wonderful Kev.

Yes bluebells and wild garlic as described.

Can I book myself in for a bluebell BAM this time next year there???

April 28th...Gathering of the Clan sharing knee comebacks
BAM 4 of 4, 40 of 40
My old mucker Dave from Penkridge travelled down to my place so we could bivvy together again, our first since Aug 24.
After a mega meat feast and tinnies we cycled a few miles along an old drovers track and settled in a small wood.
A clearing became home for the night, a log pile our throne for more beer.
Dave used his Alpkit Elan, and the Hunka XL for me.
Pitching in woods generally hasn't been my choice so I was pleasantly surprised by the claustrophobic cover it affords.
Morning brought bird song and gunshots nearby, fortunately a bird scarer!

Verena wrote: ↑Fri May 02, 2025 7:35 am ...bluebell BAM this time next year...

Excellent idea!

BaM for May, one of two on WRT...


5/5 for '25.

May BAM. Loch Laggan day 1 of HT550 ITT. Got off the boat at Heysam 23:30. Arrived in Tyndrum 04:30. Set off on bikes having had a leisurely faff at 06:00. Did not get as far as normal on the first day so working on the fact its lack of sleep. Weather is tremendous.

Enjoy it - the group start is going to get wee'd on...

So yes, Mrs P away, the mice and Reg will play. Despite not getting home until midnight the previous night from the Beaulocks gig, I stupidly decided to get up at 05.45 and head down to the station to make the most of a weekend away. Everything fine with the trains, except that on the way it gradually dawns on me that I’m somewhat knackered and about to disembark at Macclesfield to be faced with an immediate 1200’ climb to Macclesfield Forest, down 400’ to Bottom-of-the-Oven (ace placename), then back up another 550’ feet to the Cat & Fiddle Inn.

Nope.

A brew and a bit of cake from the buffet fired up my addled brain which came up with a much more sensible plan – let the train take the hill-climbing strain. So we abandon the Macclesfield plan and carry on to Stockport, where it seems there’s an 8 minute connection for a local train to Buxton. Slight problem. An emergency speed restriction costs us, yes, an exactly 8 minutes delay! I do enjoy these little frissons of fear with a plan about to go horribly wrong.

The good news is that we claw back a bit of time meaning that arrival at Stockport is only 4 minutes late. The bad news is that I’ve got to get across from Platform 3 to Platform 1 via the subway. No time to use the lift, I hoik the loaded bike down the stairs - ludicrous, I'm an OAP for crying out loud - dash through the subway and up the stairs onto Platform 1 with around a minute and a half to spare. Just about to board and I check the departure display. Eh? This is the 09.04 to Stalybridge not the 09.04 to Buxton – totally the opposite direction. Arg. Another quick dash to the main display shows the Buxton train is actually departing from Platform 0. Platform ZERO?? Never heard of one of those before. What is this, some kind of Hogwarts lookalike situation? Or maybe it's like JimmyG's scaled-down castle in Edinburgh, and Platform 0 is mysteriously only there one day a year and that day is today. Anyway, down the stairs again, along the subway, up the hidden stairs to Platform 0, just as the Buxton train is pulling in. Where’s the defibrillator??

[Hang on a moment, Mrs P has just interrupted me to whinge that the toilet flush is “too loud”. Eh? Right, right, let’s go and fiddle with it..]

OK, toilet sorted. Here we are on the Buxton train by some miracle. I’d slung some gear together the previous night – usual stuff plus summer PHD sleeping bag (390g) and Gatewood Cape and this new-fangled TN Moonlite Sleeping Bag Cover purchased after last December’s torrential Winter Bivvy. No rain predicted but the Gatewood’s only 295g and the bag cover only 180g so we’ll take them along. One breakfast packed, but no rainwear. Supposedly 5degC at night so we’ll have some thick fleece leggings as well as light bamboo ones, plus thermal and bamboo base tops, fleece midlayer top, and down jacket for evening.



The trip up to Buxton is enjoyable because you leave the suburbs of Manchester and the scenic pleasures of the Peak are gradually revealed as the train slogs up the steep hill, eventually crossing the bleakness of Black Edge, then down into town. I had intended to actually get off at Dove Holes but it seems this particular service misses it out so, sigh, Buxton it is. I’ve decided to take it nice and steady this weekend and enjoy a few cafes and stop to look at any oddities that present themselves. Yes I know, to any Normals Reg is one of those oddities himself. Straightaway we have one oddity on the station platform, a bit of artwork created from old railway equipment parts….



The quick way to reach the Monsal Trail is straight down the A6 but that stretch is very dodgy indeed so I’ll take the long way via the golf course. I’m using Reg’s Patent Navigate-By-Café route finding aid, no map, or any electronic gizmo (not that I own such a device), although most of Derbyshire’s layout is in my head to be honest. Outside the station I spy a ginnel (or jitty depending on your heritage) which heads NE so I’ll see where that ends up. It takes me through all sorts of interesting demolished factories, back gardens and a cobbled gennel behind some houses…



Over a narrow stream, up some other secret alleyways and we handily pop out at the Fairfield golf course with its Byway which heads towards Tunstead. I remembered there’s a superb little valley called Woo Dale which heads down from near here to the A6, via a cheeky footpath manouevre. It has no road or stream in it - it’s very peaceful so I just stop for a while and enjoy the birds and bees…



Curiously at the other end there’s a sign stating that I’ve used a permissive bridleway, so somewhere down the valley there must be a footpath/bridleway boundary. Very weird. Anyway, a suicidal dash down the A6 brings me to the Monsal Trail and Blackwell Bike Hire where I have a nice chat with Simon and Cheryl (who send their regards again Stu and I didn’t know that about you either ). A posh cappuccino coffee ensues and Cheryl convinces me to have one of her choc cookies. In fact it was so pleasant just nattering I was there for an hour and I also had to have a brew of tea and another cookie. Shocking!

The Monsal Trail was predictably pretty solid with walkers and bikers, but the section from here to Monsal Dale is my favourite as it features several tunnels and bridges and the very attractive Chee Dale.



Using superhuman restraint I forewent the wares at the station café and continued up the road to Tideswell to see if there was any lunch on offer. Normally I go up the ridiculously steep Pennine Bridleway hill but I thought it might be more fun to return that way later. The Tideswell Lounge did me a nice quality sarnie…



…. which gave me strength to tackle the equally nasty lane climb back up to the Pennine Bridleway above Monks Dale. Away from Monsal Dale there was nobody around and I enjoyed the green lanes across the moor, including this nice junction of various lanes….



One thing I’d like to do one day is a tour of as many Derbyshire troughs and wells as possible (there's an idea for you Frog, fancy it?), with a (filtered!) drink from each one. The only trough I came across this weekend was the one at Monksdale Farm – it’s a very hot day so it would be rude not to deploy my Trailshot and have a thirst-quenching draught and fill up my bottle…



Passing Monsal Dale station café again, my feeble sense of restraint had obviously left me and an ice-cream gave me an excuse to chill out for a while and people-watch. Right, now what, or rather now where. After consulting my head map I’d thought about heading over to the Hope Valley and catching the train home from there, but in the end “going south” won the day. The Byway up to Taddington is great fun coming down but a hell of a slog up, so I copped out and set off down the ever-attractive Monsal Trail until a better idea made itself known….



There’s a bridleway/track that heads south from Monsal Viaduct up Putwell Hill and over to Priestcliffe and because I didn’t want to go too far east I diverted off onto that. Of course, it’s just as ridiculously steep as the Taddington Byway, sigh, especially in this heat, but at least at the top there’s a nice view down the Wye Valley and a field of orchids to enjoy for an extended stop… couldn't find the remains of the old Putwell calamine mine though despite my best efforts....



After following the dusty Brushfield Byway to Priestcliffe I was getting a bit peckish even though it was only four o’clock. There’s a boozer in Taddington, but I remembered another one in Chelmorton which would have the advantage of taking me a bit further back west, although the route would include yet more steep climbing from the A6 up the Limestone Way onto Taddington Moor. Clearing that climb, I rewarded my efforts by spending a slightly ridiculous two hours in the pub – the Church Inn which claims to be the highest pub in the highest village in Derbyshire - with a veg chilli, a couple of rehydrating pints and a ludicrously oversized toffee cheesecake with TWO scoops of ice-cream….



Feeling very full up, I didn’t leave until 6pm and as time was moving on I continued westwards along the Pennine Bridleway to the Tissington Trail, which I crossed and headed towards the Upper Dove Valley where there might be somewhere to kip. It was still fairly early so I switched my radar on but only at its minimum setting, keeping half an eye out for a spot.



The Pennine Bridleway is a nice wide moorland track hereabouts, crossing the A515, then past the enormous Hindlow limestone quarry. Several lengthy trains were awaiting their next loads of stone, including this locomotive which thought I couldn’t spot his hiding place from the Fat Controller amongst the bushes right at the end of the line….



A few years ago I’d crashed out in Earl Sterndale graveyard after several hours in the extremely eccentric Quiet Woman pub (cash only, no food apart from pork pies, no musak, no electronics allowed, no kids allowed; absolutely superb but - now very sadly closed after the owner passed away) with just me and the infamous landlord on a freezing February night, but the village was out in force getting ready for their festival so that was a non starter. There was an old chapel up for auction nearby and a quick explore revealed a hidden entrance behind it with some bins. I’d have gone with that but it was still only 7pm, so I pressed on through Glutton (highly appropriate place name after my dinner!) down to the River Dove at Hollinsclough. As you’ve probably gathered this is one of my favourite areas – much less visited than Hartington and Dove Dale further south, the only drawback being the fairly low-flying planes heading for Manchester airport. National parks have “quiet enjoyment” as one of their purposes, and in RegWorld overflying of national parks would be banned.

Anyway, I stopped at the honesty café at the farm, bought a coffee and some oat biscuits and sat for some time enjoying (albeit not that quietly…) the sunset and tweeting birdies…..





After a while the farmer’s wife came out to hang up the washing so I wandered over, apologised for disturbing her and got chatting…. lovely coffee thank you… really appreciate your little café… how’s business… not too bad, could really do with some rain for the crops though… bouncy castle in the garden for daughter’s birthday looks fun… and I then slowly realised that the grass nearby was rather nice and flat… hmm… my spot radar starts beeping insistently…. time to guide the conversation …. yes I’m on a bit of a ride.. you know, take it as it comes… oh that’s interesting, you’re not carrying much where are you stopping?... a-ha, and there it is! Ten minutes later I’m fully installed, mat rolled out on the grass, an extra cup of tea, more biscuits, more chat, with the strangely shaped Chrome Hill in the background .



A very comfy night ensued, albeit a fitful one due to the full moon and the munching cows next door. The sunrise woke me at 05.30, compounded by Daisy having an early breakfast….







I’d had my bag inside the TN sleeping bag cover, with the face netting almost closed against (non-existent) midges, and surprisingly it had a small amount of condensation inside at the foot area. In fact the condensation situation was quite curious – everything was bone dry apart from: the top of my saddle, the outside of my little bathroom drybag, and a small patch on my seatpack, all of which were soaking wet. The rest of the bike was completely dry. Yet another brew from the honesty café and some more biscuits served as a pleasant first breakfast in the early sunshine, then a steep climb out of Hollinsclough fully woke me up….



As is often the case at the top of the hill I spotted what would have been a perfect bivvy place if it hadn’t been for the café grass… up for auction and door wide open…. ah well, next time maybe….



En route was the excellent Flash Bar café in the highest village in England, where I arrived at 8am hoping for a second breakfast. Oops, doesn’t open until 9am and it’s now 8am. Oh well, I whiled away the hour in the sunshine chatting to an RAC man whose “beat” included the Staffordshire Moorlands. Many the times he explained he’s rescued cars stuck in the 10’ deep snowdrifts which regularly occur here in winter.

Finally the café opened and I enjoyed an excellent veggie breakfast plus toast, with a fantastic view right across the Peak District as far as Curbar Edge near Grindleford….



Some nice quiet lanes and tracks led to the quarry at Dane Bower…



… thence to Macclesfield Forest where I noticed the strange hawk/crow friendship reported in the “Wildlife” thread. The tracks down through the forest to Langley are always a blast, bringing me to Macclesfield station for the fast train home.

A very pleasant “emergency BaM” involving plenty of nice dawdling and five café stops…..


5/5, 5/12, 112/112

stonking stuff, love that part of the world, and middle of the nowhere meetings, I came across this at the weekend, no bike alas:
paths meeting near Old Byland, just the birds and the sheep otherwise the sound of the wind in the trees, that's all.

cheers,

Keith

Great stuff Reg if you and Lu do a troughs and well tour let me know i would love another trip to the Peaks

Noted

I really must get to the Peaks at some point (but only if it's sunny )