Thursday, August 14, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
The Windmill Walk
It was billed as ‘Llanharan and the wind turbines’
Lead by: Karen Ingram, flankers Avril Brown and Niki Adams.
A classic circular walk of 9 miles, 15.5 Kms, along footpaths, trackways and
an ancient ridgeway with fine views. You pass Bronze Age burial chambers,
the ruins of an old church, old colliery buildings and a modern wind farm.
There was never any mention of livestock. Did you read: Great Big Hairy Bullocks amongst that anywhere? Hmmm???? No, nor me. Very shortly after climbing the first gentle hill, we lost Jake and Richard almost instantly as I think Richard had stopped to attend to Jake's bathroom needs (he's a dog, before anyone starts to wonder.)
Having reclaimed everyone, we climbed over the second of the days many vertiginously high stiles, nervously noting the quantity of large, fresh cowpats.
Heaving into view over the horizon, the 20 or 30 Very Large Bullocks clearly regarded us as Sunday's entertainment. We moved into the lower portion of the field hoping they'd get bored with us. No chance. With our bright colourful clothing, shiny poles and high pitched voices we were fair game, and as the bullocks gleefully herded down the sloping field towards our skittering figures, Paula sprang across the deeply rutted meadow like a hare and vaulted the barbed wire fence. 'Save yourselves!" I think she said, but I couldn't be sure.
The rest of us mere mortals, either made of sterner stuff, or more likely, not possessed of Paula's nimble knees and speed, squelched and stumbled towards the stile - even higher than the last, and bound by a virtual quagmire of cowshit.
"Make yourself bigger!" shouted Karen, holding her poles outstretched. She and I yelled "graaaa graaa!!!!!" in a really scarey way at the cows. They peered at us interestedly from lowered horns, scraping their front hooves on the ground in an unfriendly way.
Progress over the the head height stile was agonisingly slow, what with trying to negotiate the plop slurry first. "HURRY UP" we squeaked, bravely, as the herd wheeled away from our pitifully thin squawks, only to thunder as one back towards us, bucking and snorting, clods of earth flicking up around them.
I was just thinking that maybe I should have written a will before this walk, when over the hill, chewing on a hayseed, with bluebirds twittering around her head, strode Niki Adams.
Staring down at us all clustered in the cowpats, her head swivelled around and took in the belligerent bullocks in a single glance.
"WWWHHEEEEEAAAAAARRRROOOOGRAAAGHHHHH!!!!!!!" she yelled mightily, and ran towards them, poles out at right angles. As one, the cows turned tail, and fled back up the hill.
"HURRAY!!!" we cheered. "Our Heroine!!!!"
The cows in the next field had obviously already heard about our Super Cow Scarer and huddled together, watching us. That didn't fool Claire though, who had taken up residence behind a brick shed. "If they're facing you," she declared "that means they're going to charge!"
The remainder of the walk passed without further bovine incident, and we all felt brave enough later on to admire the colossal bull in a field with his wives and children - from safely behind the fence of course.
The views were most unexpected - I hardly imagined that I was so local. It was as if civilisation was very far away.
The windmills were everything they were billed to be. Awe inspiring and very windy. Karen and Avril told me that they'd met the farmer planting mini wind turbines which grow up to be big turbines. "And the windmills that go around slower than the others? They're the adolescents and haven't got up to full strength yet" They must think I'm stupid. Everyone knows it's the OLD ones that go slow!
Avril's walk next. Can't wait!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
The PenyFan walk
So. Capt K and I have decided - PenyFan or bust, the memberships have rolled in, and the first-of-it's-kind Nordic Walking Club is born. Throwing myself with enthusiasm into it, I design a logo. Actually, I design about 20 logos all based on the same idea and bombard Karen with them, who is frantically trying to organise her stand for the imminent Grand Designs Show in London.
Over the coming weeks, e.mails zip back and forth.
Keep waking up worrying that I've missed somebody and envisaging a sad little soul abandoned with their Nordic Walking poles expecting to be collected from somewhere....
End up setting up office in the Barefoot Studio shop with my laptop, entering all the membership details, chatting to waiting customers - "no, I don't work here, but I've bought just about everything in here, so, what can I help you with?" whilst Paula tries to deal with the sudden rush on her 'quiet' day. Eventually, we pronounce ourselves happy with the preparations.
And on the day, everything goes like clockwork! Everyone appears on time, in the right place, with all the right stuff. The weather is perfect.
We gather in the car park at the foot of PenyFan, kit up, make some introductions, and whilst warming up, set a few ground rules about 'if you don't play follow the leader we won't let you play any more', and then we're off! To the toilet, mainly. But then, full of expectation, through the gate leading down to the footbridge over the stream, I mean, how much more picturesque can the start of a walk be.
It's a long, long climb, in some parts needing a fair bit of puff, and the group begins to string out. Karen and Paula and I have anticipated this, and Paula, assuming her 'sheepdog' role, drops back to encourage the slower walkers. I'm in the middle, and trying to get to the front to slow the front runners down, trip over a stone and fall flat on my face. I didn't cry though.
We re-group to take photos, admire the view, and got Avril to set the pace from the front to maintain a comfortable ascent. I try to speak to everyone on the way and get all their names wrong, calling Diane Michelle umpteen times.
In the lee of Corn Du, the second highest peak by a whisker, we call an elevenses break. "Elevenses?" squeaks Paula's metabolism. "It's lunchtime, surely!" So the quick snack turns into a leisurely lunch, whilst we immerse ourselves in the spectacular views. We decide at that point that Karen will take those who want to up and over Corn Du, and those who want to save their energies will come with me on the by-pass route, meeting up to go onto PenyFan together. The temperature has dropped quite dramatically up here, and gloves and hats are needed.
Avril, who struggled a bit up the long climb, opts for the by-pass, and then is not to be out-done and makes a sudden decision to go up Corn Du.
Jubilantly photographed on the summit of PenyFan, the group surveys the National Park spread out before them, and we identify other walk options for the future, with BIG climbs. 'bring 'em on!' says Avril.
We set a spanking pace to return from the summit, and walk some way along the horseshoe to take in another view over the reservoir.
If the climb had spread the group, the descent proved even more of a challenge. For some of us with creaky joints, it was quite slow going, and tough on muscles unused to such a pounding.
For a group of this size, we definitely need 'top and tailers' to keep everyone together. The track is so well marked, that it was very easy for the front runners to march off, but I guess this will be curtailed by less clearly marked walks. All a learning curve.
I felt quite sad to get to the bottom. The van provided a most welcome cuppa, and we all sat on the wall, peacefully enjoying our achievements.
Our meeting at the Bear Hotel last week was well attended, with plenty of feedback, and dates set for the next 12 months. Lots of volunteers to lead walks as well, which is brilliant.
The next walk on June 22, is to be led by Karen. If you'd like to book onto the walk, contact her at karen@barefootstudio.co.uk.
We set a spanking pace to return from the summit, and walk some way along the horseshoe to take in another view over the reservoir.
If the climb had spread the group, the descent proved even more of a challenge. For some of us with creaky joints, it was quite slow going, and tough on muscles unused to such a pounding.
For a group of this size, we definitely need 'top and tailers' to keep everyone together. The track is so well marked, that it was very easy for the front runners to march off, but I guess this will be curtailed by less clearly marked walks. All a learning curve.
I felt quite sad to get to the bottom. The van provided a most welcome cuppa, and we all sat on the wall, peacefully enjoying our achievements.
Our meeting at the Bear Hotel last week was well attended, with plenty of feedback, and dates set for the next 12 months. Lots of volunteers to lead walks as well, which is brilliant.
The next walk on June 22, is to be led by Karen. If you'd like to book onto the walk, contact her at karen@barefootstudio.co.uk.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Our new Club
Welcome to the newest entry for our brand new baby - the Barefoot Nordic Walking Club. Which does sound a bit like we are all hobbits with big hairy feet ...well, maybe some of us may have big hairy feet, but we will be keeping them very firmly in our nordic walking shoes, thankyou very much.
Rapidly acquiring 21 members, our inaugural walk was up PenyFan and back on Sunday 18th May 2008. Paula did raise her eyebrows when Karen and I scampered excitedly back from our meeting and announced the FIRST WALK. Hmm she said. Nothing like easing everyone into it, she said.
Her misgivings turned out to be not without foundation when she and I reccied the walk a few weeks ago. Ok, I said, maybe we just need to...tweak it a bit....make it..less steep......and shorter......?
Retiring to the Mountain Centre at Libanus, spreading the maps all over the tables with coffee and cake, we decided to use the yak trail to go up and back, thus reducing wear and tear on knees, reducing the climb severity, whilst retaining the flavour of the walk.
I still went back the following week and did a Plan B walk, which was lovely, starting at the Mountain Centre. Scribble was impressed too, but mainly with the quantity of sheep on the route...
As it turned out, my fears of howling rain, fog, snow, hailstones,tornadoes or worse, the sudden heatwave we experienced a few days before, were all dispelled when the day dawned, bright, sunny, with a nice breeze. Perfect conditions!
Stopping here- read next post for The Walk!
Sue
x
Rapidly acquiring 21 members, our inaugural walk was up PenyFan and back on Sunday 18th May 2008. Paula did raise her eyebrows when Karen and I scampered excitedly back from our meeting and announced the FIRST WALK. Hmm she said. Nothing like easing everyone into it, she said.
Her misgivings turned out to be not without foundation when she and I reccied the walk a few weeks ago. Ok, I said, maybe we just need to...tweak it a bit....make it..less steep......and shorter......?
Retiring to the Mountain Centre at Libanus, spreading the maps all over the tables with coffee and cake, we decided to use the yak trail to go up and back, thus reducing wear and tear on knees, reducing the climb severity, whilst retaining the flavour of the walk.
I still went back the following week and did a Plan B walk, which was lovely, starting at the Mountain Centre. Scribble was impressed too, but mainly with the quantity of sheep on the route...
As it turned out, my fears of howling rain, fog, snow, hailstones,tornadoes or worse, the sudden heatwave we experienced a few days before, were all dispelled when the day dawned, bright, sunny, with a nice breeze. Perfect conditions!
Stopping here- read next post for The Walk!
Sue
x
an old post - from Oct 06! but still worth a read
My Barefoot Blog
re Coppermines Walk, Coniston, 7th October 2006
(Well, not really sure if I'm doing this right -my initial excitement about creating a blog has been lost in a fug of technobabble and passwords, and I think I've managed to cross wires with Karen's blog, but NEVER MIND lets get one with it.)
Saturday was a major achievement - our first warm-up race for the Big Event- in the Lake District. A 'mere' 9.3 miler, I thought on fairly reasonable level packed hard track hurr hurr- how wrong can you be....
Al drove (brilliantly, thanks love) Dawn and I up on Friday through sheets of rain. We peered up the vertiginous (good word, that) mountains, shrouded in mist and went a bit quiet.
A texted photo from Karen, already walking part of the route with Paula, Ceri and Vic (who was RUNNING it in the race) did not dispel our apprehension. "it's......Hilly" she'd written.
It'll be fine, I said. Did that sound convincing?
Felt better after some retail therapy (although the shop keeper was such a grumpy git I'm sorry I bought anything from him) and a bit of a walk. And some pasta, And garlic bread, And just the one mrs wembley glass of wine.
We went to bed early, although Dawn entertained us into the night reading from her book, the first line of which is engraved on my mind - She was a Woman. She had no FACE -and eventually dropped off. Up at 8 am, showered and burned half a loaf of bread with the toaster set to 'defrost' instead of 1, oops, breakfasted and warmed up, walked across the campsite to the start line. A rapid readjustment of clothing - off with the waterproof legs, if it rains it's tough, and we're on the start line. I wanted to cry and laugh all at once.
We were off, and trying not to trip the couple of hundred runners behind us with our poles. Bloody hell, I thought, i can't keep this up for nearly 10 miles. We did a walking removal of jackets - which was quite nifty I thought, stuffed them into our camelbaks - me: "oh no, mines broken, I'm not getting any water out" Paula "The valve's not turned on"
Through Coniston village, and then we start to head uphill. And it keeps going, And going....I just focus, think about how amazing it is to be doing this. Less than 2 years ago I was on crutches waiting for a new hip. Paula keeps pace with me, I am relieved that she doesn't expect me to chat - I haven't enough breath for anything other than this. I look up and see Karen and Dawn striding easily uphill. Make mental note to do more quad training. And hills. Many many more hills.
My nose starts to run. I try to blow with one finger against the nostril. A stream of snot sticks to my hand. Lovely. Finally we get to the top. A marker says 2k. Or 3, or something - but it felt like longer.
Whheeee - off we go on more undulating rocky trail - I've got my second wind, feeling good, still can't keep up with the other 3, but Paula has identified my problem. Come on Shortlegs, she says, as I trot after them like a pit pony - clatter clatter pole tips on the slate hey look girls I'm nordic running!
Blow my nose and snot hits my shoes this time.
After about 8k, the serious runners begin to hurtle past us at breakneck speed. There is barely time to avoid a collision - I'm at the back and hear their breathing and yell - RUNNERS!!! so the girls can move over to the left.
Several kilometres of this and I'm starting to feel a bit fed up - can't get a rhythm, having to walk through huge puddles to get out of their way. Some are nice enough to say thank you, others just shout -out the WAY!!!!!- it's our race too, I grumble to myself.
In front, Karen and Dawn are picking off the other competitors. I stretch my (short) legs, ignore the pain in my arthritic toe and grunt onwards. Paula is like an attentive sheepdog - she's in front, beside, behind, cajoling and cheering.
Finally, the lake is in sight, and I know there's only a couple of miles to go. I don’t seem to be able to go any faster - Karen falls back to psyche me up - just think you can fall into Allan’s arms at the end, she says. Hmm, I think, he’s not going to want to kiss me with a face covered in snot.
Suddenly we are at the finish field. I see Al’s face and hear him cheer us on. There’s a watery ditch we have to leap over, and then its round the field to the finish line. It seems never-ending, and then I spot the red blow up arch, and astoundingly, about 20 feet from the finish line, I break into a trot! Where the hell did that come from? “Team, Teaam!!” yells Karen, reining me in, and we pass under the arch in a line. The commentator says something about us being the Welsh Nordic Walking Team or something and we laugh. Queuing for our commemorative tee shirts, we look at the timing and find that we’ve finished in 2 hours 32 mins. Which is weird, as that’s what I had prophesied about a week ago, it just popped into my head.
(I’ve said we will do THE BIG ONE in 14 hours 6 minutes. There. It’s in black and white.)
Lottery numbers, anyone??
re Coppermines Walk, Coniston, 7th October 2006
(Well, not really sure if I'm doing this right -my initial excitement about creating a blog has been lost in a fug of technobabble and passwords, and I think I've managed to cross wires with Karen's blog, but NEVER MIND lets get one with it.)
Saturday was a major achievement - our first warm-up race for the Big Event- in the Lake District. A 'mere' 9.3 miler, I thought on fairly reasonable level packed hard track hurr hurr- how wrong can you be....
Al drove (brilliantly, thanks love) Dawn and I up on Friday through sheets of rain. We peered up the vertiginous (good word, that) mountains, shrouded in mist and went a bit quiet.
A texted photo from Karen, already walking part of the route with Paula, Ceri and Vic (who was RUNNING it in the race) did not dispel our apprehension. "it's......Hilly" she'd written.
It'll be fine, I said. Did that sound convincing?
Felt better after some retail therapy (although the shop keeper was such a grumpy git I'm sorry I bought anything from him) and a bit of a walk. And some pasta, And garlic bread, And just the one mrs wembley glass of wine.
We went to bed early, although Dawn entertained us into the night reading from her book, the first line of which is engraved on my mind - She was a Woman. She had no FACE -and eventually dropped off. Up at 8 am, showered and burned half a loaf of bread with the toaster set to 'defrost' instead of 1, oops, breakfasted and warmed up, walked across the campsite to the start line. A rapid readjustment of clothing - off with the waterproof legs, if it rains it's tough, and we're on the start line. I wanted to cry and laugh all at once.
We were off, and trying not to trip the couple of hundred runners behind us with our poles. Bloody hell, I thought, i can't keep this up for nearly 10 miles. We did a walking removal of jackets - which was quite nifty I thought, stuffed them into our camelbaks - me: "oh no, mines broken, I'm not getting any water out" Paula "The valve's not turned on"
Through Coniston village, and then we start to head uphill. And it keeps going, And going....I just focus, think about how amazing it is to be doing this. Less than 2 years ago I was on crutches waiting for a new hip. Paula keeps pace with me, I am relieved that she doesn't expect me to chat - I haven't enough breath for anything other than this. I look up and see Karen and Dawn striding easily uphill. Make mental note to do more quad training. And hills. Many many more hills.
My nose starts to run. I try to blow with one finger against the nostril. A stream of snot sticks to my hand. Lovely. Finally we get to the top. A marker says 2k. Or 3, or something - but it felt like longer.
Whheeee - off we go on more undulating rocky trail - I've got my second wind, feeling good, still can't keep up with the other 3, but Paula has identified my problem. Come on Shortlegs, she says, as I trot after them like a pit pony - clatter clatter pole tips on the slate hey look girls I'm nordic running!
Blow my nose and snot hits my shoes this time.
After about 8k, the serious runners begin to hurtle past us at breakneck speed. There is barely time to avoid a collision - I'm at the back and hear their breathing and yell - RUNNERS!!! so the girls can move over to the left.
Several kilometres of this and I'm starting to feel a bit fed up - can't get a rhythm, having to walk through huge puddles to get out of their way. Some are nice enough to say thank you, others just shout -out the WAY!!!!!- it's our race too, I grumble to myself.
In front, Karen and Dawn are picking off the other competitors. I stretch my (short) legs, ignore the pain in my arthritic toe and grunt onwards. Paula is like an attentive sheepdog - she's in front, beside, behind, cajoling and cheering.
Finally, the lake is in sight, and I know there's only a couple of miles to go. I don’t seem to be able to go any faster - Karen falls back to psyche me up - just think you can fall into Allan’s arms at the end, she says. Hmm, I think, he’s not going to want to kiss me with a face covered in snot.
Suddenly we are at the finish field. I see Al’s face and hear him cheer us on. There’s a watery ditch we have to leap over, and then its round the field to the finish line. It seems never-ending, and then I spot the red blow up arch, and astoundingly, about 20 feet from the finish line, I break into a trot! Where the hell did that come from? “Team, Teaam!!” yells Karen, reining me in, and we pass under the arch in a line. The commentator says something about us being the Welsh Nordic Walking Team or something and we laugh. Queuing for our commemorative tee shirts, we look at the timing and find that we’ve finished in 2 hours 32 mins. Which is weird, as that’s what I had prophesied about a week ago, it just popped into my head.
(I’ve said we will do THE BIG ONE in 14 hours 6 minutes. There. It’s in black and white.)
Lottery numbers, anyone??
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)