So I'm thinking about the best way of ensuring civilisation doesn't crumble and I have tea with milk on a forthcoming multi-day ride.
I'll compromise my name pamby southerner needs and accept UHT milk.
The best compromise I've found is the little pyramid shaped single portion cartons of lactose free milk waitrose sell...
My logic being that, although it seems on initial consideration that individual packaging is excessive, it'll 'keep' better than having a small bottle and the cartons flatten nicely when empty for putting in a bag and disposing off properly at ride end.
Any other ideas,and before anyone says I should get out more, this is so I can get out more!
Not so much a gravel grinder.... more a gravel (mud and tarmac) groveller...
UHT milk cartons are disgusting; we have them in our meeting rooms for the customers. Bleugh.
The best I've found for tea on the go is dried / powdered milk, which we have a big tub of in the cupboard for making bread. Surprisingly palatable in tea, and you can take however much you think you'll need in a press seal bag.
Black tea made weaker than you would white is actually alright, this is how I get around my tea needs when out. Can also add some sugar to soften it a bit.
You used to be able to buy little sachets of semi-skimmed from (I believe) Sainsburys but I've never found any ... that could just be a Welsh thing though.
However, I've just found 'Dairystix' ... buy a box and stick them in the freezer until called upon?
Rooibos/Redbush tea is good without milk so is my tea of choice for multi day trips, and most of the time now as its caffeine free. It needs to be brewed for a solid 3-5 minutes though, not good at all when weak - I think this is why a lot of people don't like it, they make it the same as 'normal tea, when it needs to be much stronger to bring out the flavour.
Nice thread. Very important thread in fact. No milk = no tea. No tea = no ride.
I'm trying to have a little bit more milk in my tea these days; with the dairy industry on its beam ends even a few ML a day helps eh? In the spirit of minimising weight, I'd like to explore the possibility of booking onto a milking course, then it would be easy to pick up fresh - very fresh - supplies en route. Stealing? Perhaps more akin to scrumping shall we say. More research required concerning this option. Sadly the powdered option, while optimising space, doesn't work for me, with the tea usually ending up the consistency of wallpaper paste.
In the meantime, two techniques usually suffice for me. Firstly, one of the myriad reasons I like to arrive by train at my start point is that I can buy tea on the train and consume it while gazing idly out of the window, unlike everyone else in the carriage these days who is idly gazing into their “phone”. The condiments bunkers are often quite a way from the till, so as you slide back to your seat (carrying your tea in one of those ludicrously wasteful carrier bags), just grab a very large handful of those small milk pots. On average, depending on beverage receptacle size, I'll deploy three pots each time. So for an overnighter you're probably going to need, say, another 12 pots. I'll leave it to your own skill and ingenuity as to how to smoothly and unobtrusively extract the required number. Having already raised the issue of wasteful packaging, you're now going to berate me for wasting the pots. Not so. Take them home ("carry it in, carry it out"; and being empty they are of course now nicely stackable!) and re-use as plant pots for seedlings. Poke a hole in the bottom for drainage. Or maybe as bijou homes for your pet ants.
Anyway. Secondly, buy 1 pint at a convenient Spar in the late afternoon (no convenient Spar? You're riding in the wrong place). I carry a 330ml bottle in one stem cell next to my filter (500ml cheapo water bottle in other cell). Drink 238ml of the pint immediately (or better still, make 5 cups of tea outside the Spar) and keep the rest. That should see you through til breakfast time or even next afternoon if you stash it in a stream overnight.
In the next issue of “A Nice Cup Of Tea And A Sit-Down” there really needs to be a “tea and bikepacking” chapter. It's a hugely complex subject to be honest. Now, who’s for a thread about biscuits?
"Reg"
"My God, Ponsonby, I'm two-thirds of the way to the grave and what have I done?" - RIP
The sign outside the asylum is the wrong way round.....
two small screw top plastic bottles (got mine from go outdoors) one with cold out the fridge milk and one with frozen milk (should get 3 days out of them) and only take them out just before you are leaving on your trip, also IF you are driving somewhere that is going to take a few hours then get a small ice bag and one of those blue ice blocks to keep them chilled till you get there, as you can probably tell, Im an avid brew drinker too
I think I'd just go for minimum faff and drink black tea. I'd probably pack a tea that I prefer to drink black rather than builders though. Earl Grey, Lapsang Souchong, Jasmine, Bakewell Tart, that sort of thing. I realise they don't quite evoke the rough and readiness of bikepacking but sod it, I like them and that's what matters.
Of course mostly I'll be drinking coffee which should be drunk black anyway. Or whiskey, and you don't want milk in that either.
"Claerddu Cheese-a-thon" - do tell us newbies more. Sounds traumatic!
The 'forthcoming book' contains a number of stories. They're snippets of various trips which will hopefully go some way to breaking up the tedious, 'Which tent peg?' type chapters . Anyway, as luck would have it, one concerns the "Claerddu Cheese-a-thon" ... enjoy or at least endure.
Standing by the junction between smooth flat tarmac and rough, uphill wooded push, I opened the case for the defence. The two members of the jury gave each other suspicious, sideways glances as I explained how this particular push has received a very bad press. How it was actually much shorter and not nearly as steep as people would have them believe. I pointed out that it was a victim of circumstance and had the tarmac road not been in such close proximity, then it would be viewed in quite a different light. After five minutes, I concluded my summing up by saying that, as mountain bikers we had a duty to push up the hill and anything else would be a travesty and truly represent a miscarriage of justice. They looked at each other, raised their eyebrows then presented their verdict to the court - "not arsed, whatever", "me neither, c'mon on then".
Luckily, my description of how bad things were going to be, proved reasonably accurate. Not once did either of them swear at me as we made our way up the hill. At the top, we took a moment to breath in the view, before heading off along the ridge in search of our way down. It's a small, seemingly insignificant sheep path that's easily missed but once found, brings you swiftly down the hillside and deposits you on a little tarmac road by the side of a reservoir. "Is this the same road we could have taken back there?" Uhm, lie or not? I thought. If I lied, they'd only get the map out. "It might be" I said, trying really hard to sound like I genuinely wasn't sure. The expected stream of abuse didn't arrive, in its place a single 'tut', maybe they'd actually enjoyed it. I wrote myself a mental note, it read 'must try harder'.
The track goes on forever, a never ending, potholed gravel highway stretching to the ends of the earth. Progress was hindered by a lazy headwind that was happier taking the direct path straight through, rather than round you. I let my eyes distract my brain and looked about. Dark empty hillsides on the right, home only to hardy sheep and superstition. On the left, the immense waters of the reservoir, darker than the hills and home to even less. In front, two red lights, err no, actually make that three red lights, "Eh up Taylor, fancy meeting you 'ere" said Jase as we finally caught up to the red glow.
The last remnants of daylight had sunk below the hills as our tyres left the gravel and rolled quietly onto hard tarmac again. Although our number had increased with the addition of Taylor, we were still short, the glamour element was missing. If she was in front, then we assumed she'd already have her feet up in the bothy, if further behind, then we figured she couldn't be too far behind. We grunted and ground our way up the final incline of the day and as ascent morphed into descent we were greeted by the three lights of AW and offspring, shining up the road towards us.
"This is where the path starts, isn't it?" she asked. "It is, but it's hard enough to spot in daylight" I replied. The darkness clouded your senses, it made every twist, turn, rise and fall feel like the last one or maybe the next one, anyone except the one where you thought you were. The last twenty metres of path brought with it the realisation that we wouldn't have the place to ourselves. The warm glow of a candle danced in the window and inside the harsh blue beam of a head-torch bounced round like a fly trapped in a jar. Cold, wet fingers fumbled with straps and clips in a well rehearsed routine, within seconds our evening's provisions were unpacked and we fell into the bothy.
Inside, two young couples did their best to hide their disappointment. Taylor and Jase climbed the stairs to survey the evenings sleeping arrangements. "Do you lot wanna share a room?" shouted a voice from upstairs. "I think he means you" I said nodding towards one of the young women, "er, I suppose so" she answered. If she was in any doubt, Paul made her mind up for her, by adding, "You don't have to, you can share with us if you like". A flurry of activity, quickly saw one of the upstairs rooms vacated and it's new occupants take up residence. Once practicalities were out of the way, the evening unfolded into a relaxed affair of eating, drinking and story telling. Jase had brought along his magic seat-pack, which for the uninitiated should be thought of in the same way as a magicians top hat. Rather than rabbits, doves and an untold number of silk scarves, the magic seat-pack usually contains food and occasionally drink. This evening, it contained large quantities of cheese. Blocks of various sizes were withdrawn from its bottomless depths, just when you thought there could be no more, another two would appear and join the wall taking shape on the table. I sat on the floor eating Tortellini from my pot, it was okay but it lacked a little something. "Shame you've not got any Red Leicester Jase, help perk this up a bit" I said jokingly. Without a word, he lifted the seat-pack from the bench and thrust his hand inside, then withdrew it holding yet another lump of cheese, "No, sorry this one's Shropshire blue" he said peering at the label in the half light. I turned my attention back to my pasta but before I'd taken a spork full, something heavy landed on my legs. "There you go, thought it was odd I hadn't got any, it was near the bottom", before going on to say "anyone want some crackers? I've a nice packet of wholemeal ones in here somewhere".
With the magic seat-pack finally empty and everyone full of cheese, one of the lads whose evening we'd gatecrashed, produced a bottle of twenty year old single malt. It was a birthday present and something very special. Named after an unpronounceable Scottish glen and the place of its creation, it had been distilled from pure bog water, heather and bagpipes, before being left to age in a barrel that Bonny Prince Charlie himself had once sat on. He offered it round the table, Jase and Paul presented him with their mugs and a dram was poured into each.
Sometime around eleven, the two couples bid us goodnight and retired upstairs. "You don't suppose he's left that whisky out in case we wanted a wee bit more, do you?" asked Paul, who, I'm sure already knew what response a question like that would provoke. "Well, it does seem strange just to leave it sat there" replied Jase. Deep down, I knew I was wasting my time but I felt I needed to make some kind of effort, "maybe he just forget to put it away?". They replied as one, "no, no you wouldn't would ya, I'm sure it's an invitation". No doubt in an effort to ease their pricked consciences, Jase finished off with, "a thank you for the cheese, that's what it'll be".
I'd seen a couple of potentially interesting tracks on the map earlier in the week and thought tomorrow would be as good a time as any to sample them. They might represent cycling nirvana and become unmissable classics of the future or they might possibly entail knee deep bogs, waist high gorse and hours of bike-walking - I decided an early start was probably in order. One last cracker and I retreated upstairs to await the arrival of the sand man.
It was just about light when I opened my eyes. I looked around the room at the jumble of sleeping bags and wondered which one contained the bear with sinus trouble that had quite obviously joined us in the night. Taylor sat up in his bag, "you goin" he asked quietly, I nodded, "right, I'll come with ya". We really tried our hardest but trying harder just made it worse. Tip-toeing made you sound like a sumo in heels, whispers were amplified to a shout by the bare bothy walls and the sound of a zipper being pulled ever so carefully could have woken the dead - although surprisingly, it did nothing to stir Paul or Jase. Down the stairs, through the door and into the cool grey gloom of early morning. Dry bag in the front, straps pulled tight, dry bag in the back, give the top a twist, another quick pull of the straps and we were good to go. "I'll just make sure we've left nowt", I said. Leaning through the half opened door, I peered round the corner, "you off" asked AW through a bleary eyed yawn. "Yeah, the thigh deep bogs are calling me" I said throwing in a wink for good measure. I turned my head the other way and waited as my eyes adjusted to the dim light fighting its way through the small grubby window. I scanned the beams looking at the array of dry bags hanging from bent nails, no nothing of mine. I looked at the makeshift line that hung above the range, not my socks, not by gloves and not my hat. Happy in the knowledge that I wasn't about to ride off and leave something of importance, I turned to go and that's when I saw it. In the middle of the table stood a bottle. It looked sad, the once proud, bronzy brown curves now pale and gaunt, the rich peaty aroma just a faint memory. Twenty years reduced to no more than a mouthful in the blink of an eye … the bastards had drunk the lot.
When I need milk (breakfast, hot chocolate, tea) I use powdered.
There's no change I'm going to carry water as in milk on 2-3 weeks of autonomy.
So what I use on hiking trips I also use on bike packing trips.
Due to the very high calories content of whole milk powder and the better taste than skimmed, I stick with that. Unfortunately it's not available (any more) in groceries where I live (bloody heck, it's Switzerland, all good milk powder seems to go to Japan and China ).
I often end up in climbing shops and by whole milk powder by https://www.trekneat.com/de/ch or from here (when planning a longer trip):
Well I did ask didn't I . "enjoy or at least endure" - thank you, emphatically enjoyed of course. I had my suspicions a while ago that you are indeed descended from the Bard, whether Taliesin or Our Bill, or possibly both.
"What, not even Wensleydale?"
"My God, Ponsonby, I'm two-thirds of the way to the grave and what have I done?" - RIP
The sign outside the asylum is the wrong way round.....
In the next issue of “A Nice Cup Of Tea And A Sit-Down” there really needs to be a “tea and bikepacking” chapter. It's a hugely complex subject to be honest. Now, who’s for a thread about biscuits?
Where do we start with this thread- best for taste or best packaging to keep them intact? I'm all in for biscuits :)
Nido is whole milk powder that comes in tins. I had to get mine from Amazon as the shops here have a limited range. I didn't get the measurements right on a recent UK mainland tour due to too large a spoon and forgetting how much I put in last time! Mix it with water in the cup, chuck in the tea bag, add hot water etc.
The story was a good read, especially the constituent parts of the malt!
Nido is readily available in shops that serve the Eastern European communities.
There is a bit of a knack to stopping it separating and going grainy when adding to hot tea
I find making a slurry first as you would with traditional custard powder helps, as does letting the tea cool a bit.
Recently I have been experimenting with doing without altogether. Normal English Breakfast type teas tend to be too bitter for me but I have found Darjeeling tea very palatable without milk.
I still use the Nido mixed with ready brek for my morning porridge where the separation / graininess isn't obvious. Sprinkle on a sachet of sugar....just the same as when I make it at home
I'm with RIP, tea with milk on a bikepacking trip is a luxurious joy that I constantly strive for. I can do black tea but there's nowt better than tea with milk (except beer maybe). I gave up on powdered milk as its bogging really. UHT pots tend to burst and leave the inside of your bag smelling of rancid wee. I'll often grab a pint at a shop, drink most of it and then fill up a wee plastic bottle (similar to one I carry meths in) which will do 3 cuppas.
On last years Highland Trail I drank my customary 10 gallons of tea but it was mainly black . My plan for this year is to go for 90% of my cups tea to be with milk - bold but doable I feel....
A popular thread so I thought I'd weigh in. Coffee is always drunk as a Whoopi Goldberg. I'm partial to liquorice root tea at home anyway. I bought a big bag of liquorice root from Amazon ages ago. It makes a pleasant naturally sweet drink that smells nothing like liquorice sweets. The sawdust sinks so it doesn't need straining, just swill it out.
If I did drink milk in tea I'd just use Stan's or maybe dissolve some chalk in vinegar. Plenty of chalk on the South Downs, just gotta remember the vinegar.
richvs wrote:
If I did drink milk in tea I'd just use Stan's or maybe dissolve some chalk in vinegar. Plenty of chalk on the South Downs, just gotta remember the vinegar.
I prefer Stans straight. But only if I can't get neat antifreeze
. Anyway, as luck would have it, one concerns the "Claerddu Cheese-a-thon" ... enjoy or at least endure.
).
. "enjoy or at least endure" - thank you, emphatically enjoyed of course. I had my suspicions a while ago that you are indeed descended from the Bard, whether Taliesin or Our Bill, or possibly both.
. My plan for this year is to go for 90% of my cups tea to be with milk - bold but doable I feel....