My ‘Chally’ mates were obviously so keen to help me get a place on this year’s event that they started abandoning their own plans with worrying enthusiasm. The problem is that they haven’t stopped !!!

Latest in the list of retirees is Rob Hausam from the USA, who many of you will know from the podcasts that Bob and I have made over the years. In Colin’s absence Rob was preparing to take on the mantle of the ultralightweight Challenger — in gear terms that is. Rob’s employer was acquired by another company and the transition means that Rob simply can’t find the three weeks needed to tackle the event, which is a real shame. Anyhow he hasn’t lost his sense of humour. Both he and Roger have obviously clocked my voodoo doll tactics. Rob wrote to Roger:

Anyway, I am definitely very disappointed to have to withdraw, but at least it wasn’t Andy Howell that bumped me off !

Perhaps I should re-iterate that my voodoo doll has now been put away although there are still people on the waiting list who would quite like a place !!!)

I hope not too many more people end up being caught in this spell. I do worry that this year’s Challenge will end up being just Sloman, Lord Elpus, HMP3 and me.

Doesn’t really bear thinking about does it!

Email from our leader Roger Smith:

Hi Andy

Roger

Fellow Challengers, ha, you can’t escape. The Podcast machine will be making its way across Scotland yet again !!!

A few times today I’ve mentioned Colin’s new adventure in relation to him giving up his place on the TGO Challenge (to me of course!) However, the real story is Colin’s adventure and so I thought I should devote a bit more time to this. I’m hoping — over the next few weeks — Colin will be able to come and hear and write some guest posts, about his planning and preparation. There will also — of course — be a podcast interview at some point.

Colin is a lucky fellow. He’s also very modest. Colin’s employer (for good reasons) has realised that there is nothing for Colin to do for some time and so — knowing of Colin’s fondness for trekking— suggested to him that he might like to take 8 weeks in which to trek. I shan’t comment on that except to say that Colin may or may not choose to elaborate on this. But anyhow he has a wonderful opportunity.

A few days ago excited text messages began to appear. If you had eight weeks, starting inApril, where would you choose to go? This is not really that easy. For example, most high mountain ranges in Europe are not open then. we swapped ideas about the SW Coastal Path and other home-grown option. But then it occurred to me that Colin might be able to tackle the Arizona Trail in this time. The only person I know who has done this is Chris Townsend — and he wrote a very good book about it! Quick as a flash Colin was on to Chris who set to work encouraging Colin. And before we knew it Colin had booked the flights was entering planning phase.

I must admit to being very jealous. This looks like a wonderful trail to take. It is a bit more developed than when Chris tackled it, but not much. Big chunks of it are not yet finished!

Needless to say, Colin is very excited by it all. I shall be giving him blog access here in the hope that he can capture some of the excitement of the planning phase. However, I shall strive to relay some of the planning excitement here over the coming weeks.

This is a long trek in quite challenging weather; Colin will be tackling this later in the year than Chris, so it will be hotter and more hostile. Will Colin be going lightweight? Of course he will! He has already designed a heavy load version of the skins backpack, knocked up a prototype last weekend and will be testing this weekend. Most nights he will be sleeping under open skies in his bivy and when he needs a shelter he will be taking his home made 2010 tarp.

Did I say Colin was a lucky chap? Anyhow, here are some resources to get into the groove so that we can all send out good vibes to Colin in his planning phase.

I talked to Chris Townsend about his Arizona trip a couple of years ago. This was produced as an Outdoor Station Podcast but it does have all kinds of music on it, so I have made a clean version available here. This is Chris and I talking about the book the Arizona Trail as well as the journey. It was conducted over the phone lines which is never really that satisfactory and it takes us a while to get going — but it is well worth a listen.

The blog review of Crossing Arizona, by Chris Townsend is here.

The Arizona Trail Association website is here.

And the audio interview can be heard (or downloaded) here:

 

 Standard Podcast: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

UK residents of a certain age will remember Blue Peter. The programme used to specialise on reports that allowed us to follow major expeditions. Perhaps, we can capture some of this here? We’ll see if Colin can talk to us a little about preparation. And maybe, we can get the odd report back while he is on the trail.

It will be a great trip. Have a mentioned that I am very jealous?

Isn’t life in the networked age exciting?

Colin texts to tell me that he has finally communicated with Challenge Control that he is pulling out. Roger tells Colin “A ha, the place will go to Andy”

Colin is delighted as he now feels his place is going to a good home. But I’ve heard nothing officially …

… so close and yet …

This time it’s Colin Ibbotson! Colin has found himself with a big chunk of time and was wondering where to go. He could have completed the Challenge and then gone on to walk somewhere else. But I saw my chance and suggested the Arizona Trail, knowing that Chris Townsend would complete the deal. And so, Colin is off to Arizona. Must say I’m quite jealous.

The only problem with this voodoo doll trick is that it’s all of my mates who are pulling out. I shall miss them, Still, there will be new friends to make.

Back to Colin, I’m going to see if we can have a podcast chat and stuff about this proposed trip. Sounds exciting to me!

Another email this morning, from reader Chris Yapp telling me that he has had to pull out of the Challenge.

It seems odd but it is my readers that are all pulling out. I have to repeat again that this is entirely co-incidental.

Before anyone wonders whether I’ve been doctoring water bottles again I should point out that Chris has badly torn the ligaments in one ankle.

I did this once as a young man when playing football. It was the the most painful thing I have ever done. In fact, I did it again — twice. Left ankle twice and right ankle once!

I gave up playing football on park pitches after that!

This is Chris before injury! Get well soon and maybe 2011 is the year for the Challenge!

What a lovely morning’s walk I had yesterday.

Over the last three weekends winter has tried hard to reclaim momentum but somehow the spring is too strong, even when fresh snow has fallen.

I headed out to the Long Mynd. I was at Church Stretton early. Few people were about. It was a glorious morning, one of those which sees everyone smiling and saying hello to each other. The Post Man in All Stretton stopped his van to say hello. My plan was to climb Caradoc and do a full circuit ending on Ragleth Hill. Ragleth and Caradoc may be minor hills but they have very steep bits. One look at Caradoc told me this might be a little beyond the worn tread of my Terrocs. Instead, I headed out for All Stretton and a climb up to the ridge that I knew would be bot wonderful and quiet. So it proved and I didn’t meet another soul until I got to the top of the ridge.

Climbing up from All Stretton

The climb was a little slower than planned. There was more slow lying on some of the precariously angled sheep tracks, but progress was gentle rather than risky.

On the ridge I met many walkers up from the Cardingmill Valley, all having a great time trudging along in their boots. All looking are me a little weirdly as they noticed the Terrocs. The sun shone even more strongly and the patchwork of fields and hills looked at its winter best.

Happy Ramblers

Both of my routes down would have been difficult with very sharp inclines. I took a quiet and more gentle slope, fine in its upper reaches but a little trickier lower down. I had forgotten that much of this walk was in the shade. Rocks slick with frozen ice had to be navigated with care. Walking back into Church Stretton it was almost impossible to envisage the scene up there.

A wonderful morning’s walk and another contribution towards Spring fitness. The calf muscles don’t ache this morning — progress is being made. Mind you, the work with the walking poles has left its mark on my shoulders and upper arms!

From now until May I plan to be out cycling or walking each weekend. Next weekend is a weekend off though. I shall be in Wembley watching the Villa boys destroy United.

“We’re the famous Aston Villa and we’re going to Wem-ber-ley …”

(I might get a chance to do some urban walking and photography though).

From the Ridge

Not quite what I thought I’d be writing about this. I was in Hebden Bridge this weekend to stay with an old mate and his new-ish partner. My mate John is more of a rambler than a hill walker so I knew there would be walk even if it was a gentle one. It all helps contribute to the pre season fitness regime.

Our walk was scheduled for Saturday and off we drove to Howarth, home of the Bronte family and their famous parsonage. I always find Howarth a little odd. It is a bit like one of those historic recreations you find at Beamish or the Black Country museum, yet it is all real. There’s a steep cobbled street and lots of arty craft places, pubs and cafés. The buskers are of a high quality. Every pub has a plack on it commemorating the fact that one of the Bronte’s used to frequent it. The Brontes mentioned were all me. I suppose the ladies didn’t frequent such rough places. Or were the men simply escaping from all that story telling?

The walk was straightforward enough, a seven mile round trip to Top Withins (a collection of broken down farm buildings) and the Bronte Falls. The day was not too bad but it was a real shade of grey, one that matched the stone of this part of Yorkshire really well. It was a walk of conversations rather than a walk of breathtaking views. You are never alone on these paths — there are walkers everywhere.

Half way along the route we encountered a family out on the hill. Dad was lying on the heathery grass. He’d been yomping across the ground, turned his ankle and couldn’t move — he was wearing wellies! It must have been bad because he wouldn’t even let me offer a shoulder for hopping support. I guess he’d either broken it or torn ankle ligaments — the most painful thing I have ever done. This made the walk a little more interesting in all honesty. I raced off back towards the main road and managed to raise help from a farmer who chugged off up the path in his four by four to rescue the man in difficulties. We’d called an ambulance who appeared in pretty good time. After all of the drama it was time to abort the walk and go and do something else.

This was a salutary reminder of some basic hilly things. Don’t go running over ground you don’t know without real care. Wellies are not the thing to be wearing. And always carry some backup provisions and clothes. The guy was clearly shocked and his family upset. They turned down our offer of some food. I was more worried about the cold. It was not the worst of days but he’d soon find himself uncomfortable. Luckily the ambulance appeared quite quickly — but he’s have been better off if he’d had some back up warmth with him. It was quite clear that neither him or his family understood how often the body temperature can fall.

In the evening we sampled something of Hebden’s counter culture. Hebden Bridge is a kind of toy town and centre for any things greeny, leftie and alternative. A health shop called the Banyan Tree was offering organic erotic potions for Valentine’s Day. This is the spiritual home of the slow movement in the UK. There is not enough space for chain stores to open and so independents thrive. Low property values in the 70s and 80s made this an escape for lefties and crusties from Manchester, Leeds and the rest of Yorkshire. Today, it is a unique place. There is a small supermarket but it is, of course, the Co-operative.

The Hebden Trades Club is one of the town’s great institutions. And music venues. My friends — knowing I like my music — were pleased to see a concert of electric folk scheduled for Saturday night. What a time we had. Getting into the Trades Club was a nightmare as the guy on the door couldn’t really grasp the fact that they sold tickets in advance. He let the two women in and then stopped us males. They demanded a one off payment as this was a member only club. I pointed out that they’d let the folks in before us without this. “Well you have to start at some point” came the reply. We politely (at first) pointed out that we’d paid for this with our tickets. I don’t think it was helped by the fact that the tickets were in fact emails — waving around an Outlook print out just added to the confusion.

Eventually we entered a scene of complete confusion. After a long wait that was. The bands were ’sound checking’ For a long time. I know all about this having run folk and blues clubs. Bands get nervous. They are far happier sound checking than actually performing. The sound check can last longer than the gig. And this is what happened with band number one of a four band line-up.

To be fair band one were reasonably good. Well, I think they might have been. The sound was so bad that it was difficult to hear anything. As a person well acquainted with PA systems an amateur sound engineers I suspect it had probably been quite good before they started messing with it. This was the only gig I’ve been to where the quality of performances gets worse as you go through the bill.

The headline band were called the Steals. I should have known better when I saw them described as a mix of electronica and folk. Any idea what that would sound like? Ambient music that’s what. Loud ambient music with crap sound.

Again, being fair, I should acknowledge that the audience were much younger than me. However, the young woman and her boyfriend next to us were equally disappointed. They’d come expecting folk rock or at least something like Eliza Carthy.

The Steals describe themselves as effortlessly blending together electronica and folk. They were right. It seems to me that had put very little effort into combining the two. No doubt I’ll be flamed by Steal fans but they really were terrible.

However, it is good to have a ‘youth’ experience every now and then.

Things looked up on Sunday, after we’d moved a chest of drawers for our host’s 90 year old mum. The problem was the traffic in Hebden — which we had to go through there and back. I must say for a community that is so environmentally aware the locals do seem to like their cars! It was — I suppose — a kind of GreenGrid lock.

We then ambled up to the village of Heptonstall via the lane we were staying on, tracks and footpaths. I’ve always liked the idea of living some place where I could just walk out of the front door and out onto the hills.

We were just walking to the pub — a Super Sloman I think this is now called. But the lane was quite long, it became a path and then I spied footpath sign for Heptonstall. Suddenly we were on a real walk — an one that was more fun than Howarth. A guess we only walked for a mile or so but we went through woodland and onto the edge of the Heptonstall Cragg. It was a long way down. This was unexpected excitement. I suppose it was a Super Sloman with Additional Fun (and Pike — well the Olympics are back).

Heptonstall was once a high, lonely kind of a place. Today it is quite posh in parts and very trendy. But the stone still gives you a clear sense of how it might have looked in bygone winters.

The centre piece of Heptonstall is its fine church and graveyard, where I was able to pay my respect to two old heroes. David Hartley was the ‘King of the Coiners’ and band of outlaws in the 18th century who filed down the edges of coins and made new ones from the shavings. It was big business — a counterfeit operation on a big scale. Their location in these wild valleys gave them a great deal of protection. Eventually London had enough and soldiers were despatched to arrest Hartley who was publicly hung at York. As his coffin was carried up the hills to Heptonstall the route was lined by hundred of local men and women.

Also here is the grave of the American poet Sylvia Plath. This is the home of the family of Ted Hughes, Plath’s husband. Plath’s gravestone is apparently one of the most regularly defaced in Britain, by feminist followers who believe Hughes drove her to her death. I’ve always found this theory sad and suspected that those who promote it haven’t read much of her work. Plath’s Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams is an autobiographical piece written before she met Hughes. It makes for painful reading as Plath clearly had all kinds of mental health problems before she came to the UK. She must have been a difficult person to live with. Then again, for somebody of that background to marry such a gruff, difficult and dangerous Yorkshire man was probably not that wise. It was a sad and tragic relationship and who knows what really happened. I just wish they’d leave the grave alone.

The highlight of the Super Sloman with Additional Fun was the pub — the White Lion I think. We’d missed lunch by 15 minutes. I’ll go off back and do you something said the land lady, pointing us to the full menu. How many places would do that? The land lord is a great Irish bloke. And the food was fabulous. Steak and Kidney pudding was just that — a proper suet pudding with not a puff pastry topping in sight. Cozy, warm and welcoming, staff that go our of their way to help, great food and beer. What more can you want. If there is anyone reading this who is thinking of popping up to Heptonstall to deface the grave, why not pop in here first. You’ll instantly feel much happier and probably not make it to the grave. A better arrangement all around I feel.

And that was it really. The walk down was more direct and allowed us a fabulous view of these valleys. It is amazing site. Deep sided valleys dominate the view for 360 degrees. Each one is home to a small community who’s houses cling precariously to these steep slopes. NO wilderness this, but a great natural sight non the less.

This week’s training weekend sees me in the weird and wonderful Hebden Bridge. I’m visiting a friend who describes himself as a rambler rather than a walker. I feel Howarth coming on again. Ah, the wind and the rain …