Bikepacking the South Downs Way

Bikepacking – I had never done it before, but decided that I really wanted to. I had already known about the South Downs Way for some time, and had decided that this would be the ideal route for my first bikepacking trip.

Not wanting to do the trip alone, but not knowing anyone who I thought would want to do this trip, I advertised on Explorers Connect for team mates. This turned out to be a brilliant idea, as I ended up with a really great group to do this with. We had a mixture of experience between us, and crucially one of the guys, Chris, was pretty experienced at bikepacking and it was brilliant to have him with us. The others were Moritz, who I had already met up with a few times for planning the trip, and a friend of Chris’s, Harry, who was also an experienced rider.

On the first morning I met up with Moritz in London to catch the train to Winchester, where we met Chris and Harry for the first time. Introductions complete, we set off down the hill from the station to find the start of the trail. 

99 problems...

The start of the trail was a little tricky to locate at first, but once we were on our way it was beautiful – although pretty hot!! The sun beamed down on us, and we all developed fantasies of finding a lovely country pub and sitting in the beer garden for ice cold drinks… mmmm…   We found the perfect pub, complete with beer garden, and closed! The next pubs were also closed, but when we found a lovely looking place with a cool stream at the bottom of the beer garden, we decided to wait until it opened. The sun-warmed water we carried with us just couldn’t hold a candle to the thought of a nice pint of something cold…

While we waited we did a bit of admin, sorting out bike niggles and cooling our feet in the stream. The pub opened, we got our drinks, and refreshed we headed off once again into the English countryside. As evening drew in and the sun sank lower, it cast a beautiful golden glow over the fields of golden wheat, rewarding climbs with glorious views over rolling countryside.

We continued following the single tracks, not making quite the progress I would have liked - unfortunately my fitness was not where I wanted it as I had been injured and unable to do any kind of training for a few weeks before the trip, and I was not used to pedalling with so much weight on my bike. We had also made a later-than-ideal start due to the restrictions on taking bikes though London stations during rush hour. Therefore we didn’t make it all the way to our planned first night’s stop, but instead wild-camped in a handy field. We lay out ground sheets and sleeping bags, then prepared and ate our camp food as the sun went down, and we even enjoyed a tot of whisky thanks to Harry and his hip flask. Then, lying under the stars with curious sheep for company and the glow of the lights of London visible above the horizon, we settled for our first night’s sleep on the trail.

Home Sweet Home for night 1

In the morning I was surprised not to be aching more after the unaccustomed effort the previous day, and after breakfasting and breaking camp, plus a little bit of posing with our various bikepacking set ups, we hit the trail again. More single track led onto some larger rolling hills and some very fast descending into the Queen Elizabeth Country Park (QECP), at which point coffee and cake was a lure too strong to resist. It’s a tough life on the trail… ;)

Coffee and cake at Queen Elizabeth Country Park

Here we discovered that we had inadvertently managed to coincide our trip with the Oxfam and Gurkhas Trailwalker event. This walk goes from QECP to Brighton via a significant section of the South Downs Way trail, and for the rest of the day we had to share the trail with hundreds of walkers, constantly calling out to them so they could move aside to let us pass – or in my case on the steep uphill sections, trying not to feel too disheartened as the walkers passed me!

The ground now is very chalky, and the clouds are rolling in. We divert a few kilometres off the trail to get lunch at a pub, and here Chris’s first aid skills are called upon as not only did Moritz take a tumble on the track down to the road, but an old lady arriving at the pub falls and injures herself, requiring an ambulance to be called. At this point I am pretty knackered, and with Moritz in pain (though not admitting it at all) and Chris busy helping various people, lunch is much deserved and we take a decent break before leaving again.

Moritz's poor knee

This allows the clouds to further gather, and it starts to rain. Chalk + water = very slick ground, and we have to work hard to keep control of the bikes. The wheels slip around making it slow going, and there is a real risk of falling at some points and picking up more injuries to the group. We push on as there is nothing else to do, but the rain falls harder and I for one can feel it leaching away my morale.

Descending again, carefully this time rather than enjoying the cruise, we arrive in a field to a round of cheers as the Trailwalker volunteers are welcoming in the Trailwalkers to a checkpoint. All the volunteers are really friendly and they take pity on us in the rain, letting us have some tea and cakes in their refreshment tent. Moritz is able to get some more attention for his badly cut knee, and his wrist is now hurting him quite a bit where he sprained it when he fell. We also make use of the giant route map they have up to try and identify a suitable camping spot for the night. While we’re there, I spot someone I know – I previously worked with one of the Gurkhas there, and he’s the site commander for this checkpoint. He offers us the chance to shelter at the site for the night, and we have a difficult decision to make. The point of the journey was to be self-supported and taking up help seems to defeat this objective, however our shelters are not really adequate for the heaviness of the rain, the wet chalky ground is treacherous and darkness is close. 

Photo courtesy of Chris

We settle on a compromise; identifying on the map a potential spot for the night, we decide to ride out to it. If it’s suitable we will camp there, and if not we will return to the checkpoint. We pedal off again through the mud and on towards the trees we saw on the map, but when we get there it realy isn’t a great camping site, and feeling soggy and chilled we all decide to head back to the friendly Gurkha checkpoint. There, we have the opportunity to dry off and get into clean clothes, and warm up with some very welcome cups of tea. 

Cooking dinner, Gurkha-style

The Gurkhas are awesome and really know how to look after themselves – they have a fire going and I join in for a bit as they prepare and cook up a brilliant communal meal. We all eat and chat and express our thanks to our unlikely hosts, and then us bikepackers head off to our shelter. It is full of midgies, and there is an interesting interlude as Harry plays a weird kind of Pied Piper, switching off all lighting within the tent and leading away streams of midgies with the light of his head torch!

Settling into our sleeping bags for the night, I realise that I feel really happy. I hadn’t been at all confident in my physical ability to cycle like this for days, had not felt hugely confident in my ability to organise it happening, hadn’t even been sure whether I would go through with it all! But here we all were, after two days on the trail. I had actually managed to overcome my insecurities and organised and took part in this trip. I may not have cycled as well as the others, but I had got out and done something, and it felt so good.

We ended our journey here – we had another day at our disposal, but Moritz needed to protect his injuries as he was to be a skipper on a charter yacht shortly after this trip. Chris had bad saddle sore despite his good equipment and experience, and my leg muscles were really starting to rebel with soreness and stiffness. Harry was fine, though he is a machine – at one point while cycling uphill on a road section, he had actually been strong enough to give me a push when I was struggling! We are near to Amberley, so we get breakfast overlooking the river and then jump on a train back to London together.

Homeward bound

The South Downs Way has not been completed this time, but that’s all the more reason to go back again.

** Chris also wrote about this trip in his blog, (Un)inspired Ramblings ** 

On Yer Bike - Off Yer Bike!

A couple of weeks before my planned South Downs Way cycle trip, I decided to go on a short course to boost my (very basic – and very rusty!) mountain biking skills.

Plas y Brenin in Snowdonia, North Wales, was running their Big Ride Weekend. Food and accommodation was included in the price, along with a goody bag, and over the course of the weekend you could choose from various morning skills workshops and afternoon guided trail rides. Sounded perfect for me!

I had been to PYB once before for a whitewater kayaking weekend, and I found the standard of food and accommodation to be excellent, the staff and instructors and general atmosphere to be great, and also it was a great way to meet really nice people. This second trip there did not disappoint, and from my room mate, to workshop mates, to trail riding mates, to people I met in the bar afterwards – everyone was lovely: really friendly, really interesting, and all keen to mix with everyone else and make new friends.

The biking was excellent and really boosted my confidence. The first morning I did ‘Technical Ups’, learning the little tweeks to technique that really help you to get up the steep and technical bits of a trail without falling off (although I did manage quite a bit of that on the steep corners!) and without losing momentum or control. Lots of tips about shifting your body weight to keep traction, where to change gears so that you keep the pedals going smoothly, and when to give yourself an extra blast of power to shoot up over obstacles and short ups without losing speed. 

Technical Ups

While all this uphill practice did wonders for my faded confidence, it also did wonders for my appetite! After an excellent and hearty lunch, the next part of the day was trail riding.

I joined a group riding the Marin trail, described as “a proper mountain bike trail in every sense of the term. Big climbs, big descents, brilliant singletrack and truly awesome scenery make this a trail to remember”. The trail was hard work after the uphill work in the morning, plus it was a really hot day! Having only gotten back into biking a few weeks before I was relatively unfit, and at the top of each climb there was me and another lad constantly lagging behind! Embarrassing, but I could still see that I was tackling the singletrack in a much more confident manner than I would have managed without the morning’s workshop.

A brief breather on the Marin Trail

When we got back to the PYB centre I was exhausted, and just so so hot! PYB has a lake right by it, so I met up with another guy who been riding a different trail, and we headed down to the lake for some wild swimming to cool off. The water was really quite warm so we were able to stay in for quite a while, until the time came to get out and go for food. SAFETY NOTE – you should always take care when wild swimming as it can be very dangerous. We had prior knowledge that the lake was safe with no hidden currents, and we were both strong swimmers (I have done a lot of swimming in the sea, and the other guy had done a huge amount of lake swimming and wild swimming as a triathlete). Plus we had told people where we were going and there were two of us together to reduce any risk.

Beautiful spot for a wild swim

Dinner was once again a fantastic meal, and afterwards I signed up for the following day’s jumps and drops workshop. I picked this one as I have a problem with downhill sections of relying too much on my brakes, which not only slows you down but also breaks up the flow of the ride, and can actually increase your chances of falling by causing you be off balance or coming to sudden stops as the gradients change or the ground is uneven.

This workshop was especially enjoyable as unlike the ups from the previous day, this one had a fairly large element of adrenaline included!! We began with flat wooden ramps, first practising rollovers – where you simply roll over or down the bumps – then onto drop offs, where you keep the front wheel up a bit as you go over and have a nice flat landing. We finished off the ramps with a larger one for jumping. We had several goes each of jumping, and this was great for confidence as you knew what to expect and could put more and more oomph in with each try you had! 

The small wooden ramp

Once we had finished with the ramp we moved onto the track. This felt very different as the ground could be different shapes and different textures, the take off or landing could be uneven, there might be obstacles to avoid or bends to negotiate. But each time you handle something well, or it doesn’t quite go so well but you can learn from it, then you feel your confidence and determination growing – a very pleasant feeling!

We progressed through steep slopes, small drop offs, larger drop offs, small jumps, and then finished up with some playing on the jump track. We had a few roll throughs (going through the track rolling over the jumps without jumping) as a group to get used to the track, then the instructor stood by to shout out tips and give feedback to improve performance on individual runs. I did several roll throughs as I worked on the line I took for bends, getting my posture right, feeling more comfortable with the idea of jumping… Eventually I felt I had taken on all of the tips and was ready to try a jump. 

Rolling over a tabletop jump - shame it's not a longer shot to get the height in!

I rolled down the entry with good speed, went up the table top and then jumped at the right moment getting into the air well. Unfortunately, that’s where the good bit ended and what happened next happened so quickly! I saw how far down the ground was, and the scared part of brain took over and froze up my body, bracing me for impact. Instead of staying nice and relaxed to land well and absorb the landing properly, my hands squeezed the brakes and I went pretty rigid. The landing was hard, and the suspension of my forks fought back after I went over the handlebars on impact, popping my bike back into the air and landing back down on my ribs. My bike is old, and not that light!! Winded and very bruised, my riding was over for the day. But I knew what I had done wrong, and I was still able to recognise the improvements I had made over the weekend. Plus, I got lots of cool points for the way I dealt with the accident – no tears, no whining, just a lot of deep breaths (once I could breath again!) followed by some self-deprecating humour once I was on my feet again – although I was still shaking very badly from the adrenaline surge!

The bruise starting to develop the next day - along with so much swelling that I had to wear stretchy trousers!!

Still: it's not about how you fall, it's about how you pick yourself back up again - and I can't wait to get back out there and make even more improvements!

On Yer Bike - Wildlife Rescue!

This summer I got back on my bike. My Specialized Rockhopper Comp mountain bike was a 21^st birthday present (unconventional maybe, but it was what I wanted!) but it has been sadly neglected the last few years.

With the Thames behind

When it became apparent that I definitely would NOT be able to go abroad to do the job I had trained to do I was absolutely gutted. I was also alone as my husband was already out there, and so I had no one to take pity on me if I wanted to sulk. So I had to stay positive, act positive, and take on a new challenge instead.

I had read about the South Downs Way the previous year and had thought that seemed like my kind of thing, so I decided to get back on my bike for fitness (unable to run due to a trochanteric bursitis / tendonitis I got during some training, that just will not settle down…) and have the South Downs Way as my goal.

Beginning on the roads I had a great time cycling through the Buckinghamshire countryside. I found new places, so picturesque. I found a lovely spot for a stroll along the Thames.

On one occasion I even spotted a gorgeous little Greenfinch fledgling stuck in the road. I could see it from some way back, struggling to get back up the curb from the road where it lay. Every time a car went by it flapped around in panic, and sometimes got sucked further into the road by the passing cars. And it could not get up that curb, the poor little thing!

When I got to it I got off the bike and used the front wheel as a shield to stop the bird from scooting into the road in panic. It stayed fairly still, so I let it rest a moment while I got my phone out - it was too beautiful not to get a picture! You really shouldn’t handle fledglings as normally their parents are around somewhere and will help them out once you’re out of the way. But this was a bit different – the bird was in danger from the traffic, and the constantly passing cars would make it impossible for the parents to get to it safely.

I’ve had a pet bird before and was pretty confident at handling this little Greenfinch, although I was worried how it would react as small birds can easily die from shock if they are handled. When the bird seemed calm I got my camera at the ready and firmly and gently grabbed hold of it, clicked one picture and put the bird in the nearby hedge. It did seem quite stressed which was upsetting, but I really hoped that it would recover itself and its parents would be with it again – and at least I knew it wouldn't be hit by a car now!

I did enjoy going around by bike, you do see so much more than when you whizz by in a car!

Trip Planning - Cycling the South Downs Way

I have recently begun planning a multi-day mountain bike trip, to cycle the whole of the South Downs Way - a 160km (almost 100 miles!) trail of on- and off-road cycling (advertised here).

I had heard about the South Downs Way quite a while ago and fancied giving it a go, but I never had the chance due to work commitments. Plus I was unable to take time off work outside of the stipulated holidays, meaning I couldn't organise anything at a suitable sort of time! I tend to worry that I won't go through with things, and finally having an opportunity I really didn't want to waste it. I therefore decided to advertise my trip on a forum called Explorers Connect, figuring that if other people joined me I was then committed and could not let them down.

Planning and effectively being the 'leader' for a trip like this feels a little daunting, but also very refreshing and exciting. The planning is going well too: so far I have recruited team mates, obtained all the route information & mapping, and made up a comprehensive kit list. We have a planning meeting tomorrow to firm up the details, so I'm really looking forward to getting together with everyone and seeing who these people are that have put their trust in me via the internet!

This trip will be unsupported meaning we will carry all our gear, and we will camp or bivvy for our overnight stops. This means that an important part of the planning will be kit selection, and in order to keep the weight down we will share equipment wherever possible, e.g. tent, jetboil, bike toolkit etc. - although we'll make sure we each have a toothbrush!

Don't worry - I have a bigger bag for the actual trip!

Voyage on the Sir Winston Churchill ~ part 4

Saturday, 22^nd March

We passed through the Alderney Race during the night, and our Watch had just missed this event when our wake-up call came at 0330hrs for our watch to begin at 0400hrs. We were amply compensated however, as the sunrise we witnessed on this morning was just as stunning as the previous evening’s sunset. The comet and stars gently faded into the light, and the rising sun lit more and more of the foreign coastline ahead.

      

           

The sea was as flat as a mill pond as we continued towards the Bretons coast, so it was decided to practise a man overboard drill. A dummy, affectionately known as the Accountant, was jettisoned and when the man overboard alarm – 7 short then 1 continuous blast on the ship’s whistle – was sounded, all hands rushed to their muster stations. As the dinghy is stowed aft it was our responsibility as Mizzen Watch to launch it, and the Boatswain and Cook went off while the Doctor readied his medical kit. Once the Accountant had been rescued and was safely back on board, our Watch had to hoist the dinghy back aboard and stow it away again.

Our arrival to the walled port city of St Malo in Brittany, northern France, was as spectacular as ever. I got to take part this time as we manned the yards, and we all sang sea shanties that the Mate had taught us during the 0900hrs briefing. And when we ran out of shanties? We just sang any song we could think of! We were up on the yards for about an hour altogether, waiting for the lock gates to open, then close again, the lock to fill, and the gates on the other side open to allow us into the dock.

As we climbed down from the yards a mad/drunk/both Frenchman in a pseudo military uniform provided entertainment by shouting French obscenities and suggesting we did strange things with various parts of our bodies, until the Doctor told him “Je suis bien, merci!” and he walked off, still shouting to himself.

We conducted the usual harbour duties: mooring the ship, putting up the gang plank and doing ‘spaghetti runs’, which involve going around the whole ship and tidying all of the lose ropes into neat coils. We then had the next installment in the inter-watch competition: rowing the lifeboat across the dock and back against the clock. This we also lost, and I must admit that I was a bit disappointed not to be part of our rowing team.

                

Shore leave was allowed until 1500hrs, and a few of us went to visit the old town within the city walls, and changed our money into francs with which to buy postcards and stamps.

Later in the evening we were allowed more shore leave, to return by 2330hrs ship time, so we all went out to the local pubs to ‘splice the mainbrace’. Brittany is one of the Celtic nations, and there were a great many Celtic bars and Irish bars. The two of us crew who were Welsh were made very welcome as fellow Celts, so it was hard to get back for the end of shore leave. On return to the ship I tried to get a little sleep before my next watch.

Sunday, March 23^rd (and our Watch Officer’s birthday)

I was on harbour watch at 0100hrs, then back to bed at 0200hrs. We were woken for breakfast, then given a packed lunch and more shore leave to enjoy the small city before we left harbour to once again head back to sea.

Our number 8, Charlotte, and I took a walk through the town. We stopped in a patisserie along the way for delicious freshly baked snacks, before continuing to the Musee Internationale Du Long-Cours Cap-Hornier in the Tour Solidor. This 14^th century building housed a collection tracing the history of voyages around Cape Horn, including models, nautical instruments and objects made by the sailors during their crossings or brought back from foreign ports. The museum, invoking thoughts of travel aboard extraordinary tall ships at the end of the 19^th and the beginning of the 20^th century, seemed a very appropriate excursion for us.

               

After the museum we made for the small beach, where we sat sunning ourselves while we ate our lunch and wrote our postcards, before heading back to the old town to search for postboxes.

                              

On returning to the ship we discovered that we had acquired a new number 13 for our Watch. Steve had been travelling around the world from his home in New South Wales, Australia. He had bought a bicycle in Greece, and from there he had eventually cycled all the way to St Malo, ready for a ferry to England and the next stage of his journey. Steve had worked as a crew member on chartered tall ships in Canada, and had come over to admire our ship. He had got chatting to the Captain, and as we were short of crew, the Captain had offered him and his bike passage to England which he gladly accepted. A much more fitting end to a cycle journey across Europe!

We left St Malo as spectacularly as we had arrived, with people singing up the yards. Then we set course north again, headed for the Cornish coast.

The weather was turning rougher again, up to force 6 on the Beaufort Scale which means that long waves begin to form, white foam crests are very frequent and some airborne spray is present. The increasing waves meant that there was some more seasickness, although by now most had found their sea legs, and yet again we spent a bumpy night at sea.

Introduction

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

Part 6

White Water Kayaking

When I still lived in West Wales I was very active in outdoorsy pursuits, and among these much-loved hobbies was kayaking. In the sea, in rivers, going from A to B or just surfing and trying to play boat - all of it was enjoyable for me!

Since going to Uni in 2002 I have rarely been out kayaking. I don't have the kit and I don't know other kayakers now, which all makes getting out on the water pretty difficult... However, finding a good course to go on at a much reduced last-minute price answers that problem very nicely!

Plas-y-Brenin, in North Wales' Snowdonia, offer last-minute empty spots on their courses at a bit of a discount - a wonderful fact I discovered while idly surfing the web, along with the discovery that a white water kayaking course that weekend (meaning, I would leave the following day!) had such a discounted place available!! 

Snowdonia really is beautiful, and the idea of getting out and refreshing my white water skills while meeting like-minded people seemed a fantastic idea. I was still a bit nervous however, as it had been so long since I last paddled, but a quick phone call to the centre allayed my fears as they explained the level this course was pitched at. 

The next day I loaded up the car a headed up to North Wales. I had a good drive up, and was quite excited when I arrived at Plas-y-Brenin. I had only ever driven past the place before, but checking in I discovered that the people were as friendly and welcoming as you would expect outdoorsy sorts to be, and the place itself was really excellent. Nice clean rooms with great showers, and a lovely bar where you could order some pretty good, hearty food on your first night - the food for the following days was included in the booking price, along with the accommodation.

The first morning of the course, after a good safety and orientation brief, we met our instructor Karl and the rest of the group. Our group was really great - there was a young trainee teacher and her dad, plus another girl who was a newly qualified anaesthetist, as well as being a highly accomplished orienteerer and caver. Everyone had a great sense of humour, and we had a great time together.

We had glorious weather, which meant some of the river levels were a little low; but we did get to paddle in spectacular sunshine - and it wasn't too cold if you got dunked :)

I was the most experienced paddler of the group, but I was also the longest away from paddling, so it was a real boost to find I could still paddle well, and still roll when I needed to! This had the added bonus of meaning the instructor allowed me to do a few bumpier sections that the others couldn't - this wasn't being unkind in any way, it would have been too risky to allow people with uncertain support strokes and no roll to do sections where you could easily capsize into white water.

At the end of the final day, I was allowed to have a play in a stopper. I didn't have particularly great skills, but getting stuck in there felt exhilarating - only two days previously I had been nervously asking whether I would be suitable for this course, and there I was with the power of the river all around me, making my kayak dance a little in the surging water, and then finally rolling upright again when I could no longer hold my own against nature and ended up floating away upside-down :)