2023 in Pictures and Stats

January

January was there for me to learn about Lena.  I was quite quick to learn that she likes to sniff the breeze and we've been out in no stiffer winds this year than in January above Stanage.  The flap-o-meter reading was high.

 

February

While there were many special moments in Whtitby in February, our visit to RSPB Bempton was mind-blowing - mentally and physically.

 

March

There were a few walks in March that were pretty special, in that TSK managed to come along, or Lena and I were out nice and late to catch the moon, or  just those special, crispy icy days.  Then there was also a trip to Wombwell to the pedal car races, where me and Lena sneaked off with the camera and, until today, I did not know I got this shot.

 

April

 

April was so FULL but our trip to Aberdeen has to take the top spot.  Such wonderful sunshine and great to catch up with friends I haven't seen in years.

 

However, this is my cheat month since there were also some excellent camping trips in April. 

May

All right!  All right! When you've got an incredibly photogenic dog, it's really difficult to chose highlights of each month.  Our camp out for a summer fell race was ideal - secluded, pitched in daylight, undisturbed.  Evesham had more sunshine and smiles than I could shake a stick at.  I can't choose!

 

June

June rolled by in a series of toasting summer days.  Glyn and Marie came to visit which gave us the brilliant opportunity for a lift out to the peak and a dog-walk home.

 July

July had us in Surrey for a visit and no trip to Surrey is complete without some serious forestry.

 

August

August had a lot of good sunshine days and it was difficult to pick one but this day Lena had a photogenic moment and I sat in a deck chair and sketched a landscape for a few hours while she had a nap so it went down as one of the best long days in a while.

 

September

Everyone's seen my Glen Affric 3-day hike photos but I'm not sure I shared the sunset - from my bivi spot high up on the mountain.  We went on to spend the best high-level day known to man (zero human interaction) and the hike out wasn't bad either.  I realised I'd rather spend a few nice days in the Yorkshire Dales than ever again, repeat the 3 Peaks bike race without any cycling in my legs. 

October

I really enjoyed Autumn flourishing in the Peak. Reservoir pics come as standard but you can't beat climbers on sun-baked rock in bracken.

 

November

November saw the arrival of the scooter but, more photogenic than that, a long, drawn out snap of hoary frost that's not been repeated in December.  For 10 straight days, everything sparkled.

December 

In December, I celebrated a major birthday with the shortest of trips to the Lakes.  Driving half way across the country for one big walk and a couple of nights sleep has been something that's been missing from my life for a while.  Let's call it environmental consciousness.

 

One week later and we've done more hikes from the back-door than is possible to enjoy.  I admit, I tuned some of them out in favour of spending time with my favourite family people... but when we've got outside the edges of the valley, we've mourned for the loss of green, embraced the brown and looked forward to the renewal of the seasons next year...

then we slipped away to the coast to wash the sea into our hair again.

What's in the bag for next year?

 

On the final day of 2023, I packed my old 3-4 season tent, big sleeping bag and a day's worth of food and headed out for a final lap of the valley "fully loaded" to see if it's still do-able and to start my weight training programme for next year one day early.  I'm not big on gyms any more so this way seemed more productive.

I over-packed tent weight and under-packed on food / fuel for a full 24 hours out so I will at least know what the weight feels like - even though we won't be committing to a night out because the dog hates fireworks.  So tonight we'll be sleeping under a slate roof.  

 

Why the backpack? Well this year, I'm aiming to tally up a bunch more Munros, having realised I covered a lot of the hard ones during my twenteens and am now at an age where I relish the more "boring" ones - starting with those that have a big walk-in - while I still can.

Carrying the pack reminded me that I need to strengthen my big muscles some more but also how important my little core muscles are too, to the balance of Trep.  So if I can sneak myself away to the yoga mat a few more times a week, that's also on the cards.  I've had enough of being unfit and "a bit shit" this year so my resolution for '24 is to get back to fitness with purpose and start getting myself "out there" again, back to my happy place (mountains), without the encumbrance of any race performances.

And I'm really rather looking forward to it.  I hope you're looking forward to 2024 too.

In stats (walking this year)

January - 274 km

February - 237 km

March - 298 km

April - 271 km
May - 270 km

June - 164 km
July - 270 km

August - 218 km

September - 264 km

October - 261 km

November - 168 km + scooter - 129 km = 297 km

December - 212 km + scooter - 128 km = 340 km

2023 in Review

Yesterday's blog post wasn't about turning 50, or Christmas - it was about me not wanting to be at work on 22nd December. So I didn't - instead I wrote a grumpy blog piece and did some life admin. I went for a walk in a park to chill out and now I am back, to put things in perspective. 

What I dislike about Christmases at home is the expectation of joy from things that dont excite me much, like baubles, wine and television. Instead, we stay home to look after the cat who is an old dear because we feel terribly sad about leaving her on her own. We then feel bored about going to the same places and inevitably the weather is horrible and not in a flinching biting cold sparkly icicles kind of way but in a howling gale that will kick you off your feet into the sloppy mud-kind of way. It seems like this year is no exception.

This year, however, we have a project to complete - project house-move. I've tried to avoid looking Rightmove but yesterday I had a sneaky peek, just to whet my appetite. I did manage to send some christmas cards this year and was reminded that when we have a home of a more reasonable size I might actually expect to see some more of my friends. Health–wise, this is a great improvement.

In decorating the bathroom, I remember just how much I like the labour of doing something moderately well. I'm looking forward to chosing a home we can love after years of tolerating this one - its space constraints only exacerbated by the addition to the family of a nosey dog.

We have childless friends nearby who, like us, hate having holidays enforced on them during the wicked weather season. They once told us that their Christmas tradition is decorating. This year I am feeling an oddly close and satisfying allegiance to someone else's Christmas traditions. Life can't all be about having Rad adventures. Sometimes it needs to be about more mundane ones and this Christmas I'm all there for that, though I won't be able to resist plenty of short but satisfying Micro-adventures in between.

Yesterday was meant to be my retrospection of the year but it got a bit negative. So here's my 2023.

Although my new job is hard right now, it's also interesting again. I'm no longer biding my time until it ends and hopefully I can inspire the next generations of planet-saving problem solvers to step up and take the mantle forward without it putting me in the grave or rehab first. I never imagined I could be this proud of what I do.

I rambled on yesterday about sport, exercise, getting back to nature and the consistency brought by getting the dog in our lives.

Lets be honest, it's taken the whole year for us all to settle into "normality". Only this week has she started to cuddle on the sofa and consistently pay attention to treats proferred. I had not listened to the books and advice on that matter. There was never any doubt we would stick with it but I am glad she's starting to come around. A year has passed so quickly.

In having the dog, my overall fitness has tanked but I've never been closer to nature. Every day I see the seasons - 3 times a day at least. Recently it's been too hurried - gaps snatched between meetings. We have rushing home to the comforts of a warm house and a cosy bed. I yearn to get back to the calling adventures for long, long days out. They will come, they are out there waiting for me.

So retrospection for 2023 - not to wish away these valuable holidays that haven't even happened yet. It's impossible to look back over every outing without covering the year in Stats but there are some outings that really stand out:

• Trailer rides from Whitby and Aberdeen and the chance to swim in the sea in cold weather. Seeing great  friends that I haven't seen in years.
• A few pedal car events where we camped or Air B&B' d local and got to try out a whole new set of footpaths. In fact, generally-ditching the bridleways for footways was the revelation I didn't realise I needed.
• Hiker camps in the peak district during which I discover my dog is too fidgety for a 1-man tent or a bivvy bag.
• Our Scotland trip, bagging some daunting munroes that have been on my radar for a while but only the HT gave me the confidence to tackle
• Learning about the dog's capability and needs on wild camping trips. Scotland also had more swimming in the sea and rivers with Andrew and the wildlife. My first ever Scottish September trip and some glorious weather.
• Owning my first walking stick - to replace a forgotten bivi pole.
• A slowing-down - in recognition that over the last 2 years a balance has tipped my mind over into the unhealthy and my body is becoming worn out. I stepped away from the bike in the hope that knees and saddle pain could ease. I haven't yet stepped back and for now, I'm Ok with that. Slow really is Ok, its opened my eyes to wildlife and scenery I haven't noticed before.
• Our first trip back to the Lakes together in a few years. 

In the park today I realised I have found myself walking in those places the dog and I took our first few tentative steps last year. This isn't a toned-down future but a reversion to the familiar, a hibernation, to allow us to regenerate into the strength we found in the highlands last summer. It's not half measures, it's hope.

The biggest setback I have to acknowledge this year is not covid but the fall I had while out walking when I decided to scout out a steep-sided bomb-hole as a bivi spot. and turned over on my ankle. A neighbour warned me that it might take months to heel and although it didn't stop me for long, it has taken me until now to be able to kneel again and to take any real load on it without me yelping in pain. It stopped me training for the 3 Peaks and psychologically stopped me committing to carrying big loads over long distances since July. Septembers missions in Scotland were tenuous. They were successful but took their toll and since then I've done little to shape myself up.

My ambitious for 2024 are big - including mountains and furniture removals - so I have some drive at the moment to get strong again. The yoga mat is out in the loft which feels like a force for good.

I started 2023 with old goals, not really knowing where my body would take me. For a while, I felt like this was the year it was going to let me down but, drugs are a wonderful thing, so over 2024 I'll be looking to continue some of my old mountaineering adventures now that I've renewed my relationship with my feet

In the words of John Muir, The Mountains are calling and I must go.

Into my 50's

I made no secret of turning 50.  I'm pretty proud to have got this far, to be honest, and I'm no longer upset about what the ageing process has done to me.  I remain secretly suspicious I'm just slowly dying of something noxious but aren't we all just slowly dying?  So might as well have fun while that's going on.

Usually I hate Christmases at home.  After the initial pizazz of my birthday, I have to race around sorting presents and buying food.  It's a week where I can't spend any money because everything is over-priced. 

I tried to make this year different, be organised in time for my birthday but I failed (as usual) and ended up close to breaking point this week.  In parallel, I've been reaching out to my adventurous side, to try and achieve more, get back closer to nature... and I've failed.  I'm more tired.  I'm running out of steam climbing up the hill at the side of the valley on easy walks and am snapping at colleagues because they're just asking too much of me at year-end.  Today I just sat in the cemetery and stared at the trees while my heart rate settled to something normal and I stopped shaking.  Ageing process? Sick? Not enough breakfast?

I wanted to get out for a solstice bivi but I just couldn't bring myself to set out in the howling wind so I didn't - that's fine though, I will try and do something before the end of the year.

I found myself learning new things about the oceans and waters in 2023, despite now spending that much time in them. I need to rectify that and get myself in there again. Not in a competitive way, just in an enjoyable way.

The scooter has brought me great joy this year - the opportunity to try a new skill.  The scooting bit is easy but learning how far I can go, the best techniques, how to carry my stuff, what affects progress - for better or worse.  It's simple and, unlike my initial urge to attempt something water-bourne, doesn't require too much new kit.

Getting Lena was the best thing I did with 2023 (ok, she joined us in December 2022) and might be the key reason for my lethargy, but I don't, for one moment, regret my decision to get a dog.  For all that she has sapped me of my usual sporting "performance" (tongue in cheek), she's kept me active beyond my wildest plans.

I'm determined not to let the new year suck me into work the way 2023 has.  I've new staff starting next year allowing me to gradually extract myself from the malestrom and instead seek out calmer waters (possibly literally) of lake and oceanside.

In between that we have a new house to buy.  I've been on the fence about this for the longest time (probably years) but have accepted the need to stay "in" the rat race a little longer to find ourselves somewhere that feels more grown-up than student-hovel, more spacious than falling-over-eachother, more like a home than a tenancy, possibly more country-cottage than city-slicker.  All part of getting back to nature, I'd love to get streetlights out of my bedroom window.  

Winds or seas of change.  Only time will tell this year.  I hope it doesn't pass as quickly as 2023.

A much needed day out - an understatement of a title

 After weeks of home renovations at the weekend, this week I decided I needed some time in nature to re-seat my mental health.  It's a lot of effort to keep myself sane and I've been feeling the need for a holiday for a while.  The fact that I have two coming in December, is not enough to sustain me so I decided that rather than house-working Sunday, I was going to have a normal day (in which me and the dog disappear into the wilderness for some time and return home exhausted several hours later).  There's nothing like intense fatigue for making me feel rested!

I set off to scoot along the Trans Pennine Trail from Outibridge towards Dunford Bridge, the intention being to return home the way I'd come.  It's a rail line so none of its steeps are more than 3% (except the bits through Wharncliffe woods which weave up and down for a bit before settling.  Our local parks were pleasantly empty when we set off at 8:30 and we managed to scoot through Hillsborough park before the enthusiastic Park Runners got started.

The fun really starts when you reach Beeley woods.  Lena has been there before but usually in the evening, dodging the boy racers.  It was nice to enjoy the racing river without many people around... until we got to the end of the path where five vans were parked up and people rushed around drying off and loading kayaks onto roofs.  I had to ask: does this happen often.  And only, apparently, when the river is high enough, is it possible to kayak from Deepcar to Oughtibridge.  Lena had a sniff to see if anyone had snacks and then we walked up the steep hill to reach the TPT.

When we got there, we did a lot of sitting about. Trousers on/off/back on again.  We had a bit of a run before the deluge started.  When it appeared to be settling in, I took a break under the underpass and added a wool layer under my coat.  The graphitists were talking to me.

All of the mountain bikers continued on their loops of Wharncliffe while me and Lena headed onto the TPT.  We ignored the turn off for Wortley and continued into the Burger shak at the stables to get lunch.  I've never managed to get to this place when it's open so I was really excited to find they were serving - and also that there was a covered shed complete with picnic tables, wood burning stove and christmas decorations.  We made ourselves at home and answered questions about the scooter.

The burger was to die for.  I wish I'd ordered chips too.  The coffee was acceptable, though not impressive - you can't have everything (at least, not out of the side of a caravan, you can't).  The dog enjoyed her lunch - and trying to steal everyone else's. In fact, she looks like she's trying to tow the table over to someone else's!

When we got back onto the trail, we had it all to ourselves, as far as the eye can see.      The rain had stopped and we were moving well, if a little tired.  We had a little play with the camera and started to think about what to do next.  I admit to being a little alarmed when my 20km notification went off.  Time to start heading home!

I didn't fancy the idea of going back the way we'd come.  If anything, I felt like I'd only just "made it" to the countryside - despite having been in Wharncliffe for quite some time.  Instead, I mentally plotted a route over to Midhopestones and then around to Mortimer road and Bradfield in order to get home.  It was ambitious but we had enough daylight to do it.  The little lanes were pleasant enough to scoot along and most motorists were patient enough to wait behind us while we moved over to the side of the road an let them past the narrow bits.

We were enchanted by this field of geese - probably blown out of the skies last night.  Only when I stopped to watch them did I notice the hawk in the tree, biding its sweet time.

It was... oh, so much... further than I remember from Midhopestones, over to the Bradfield valley and there were so many more river valleys than I remember between each of the reservoir valleys. 

I kicked myself literally and figuratively as I grew tired of trudging uphill and freewheeling downhill with the brakes on so that I was slow enough to avoid pulling the dog off her feet.  If only I'd just turned around on the TPT and had a nice, smooth roll home the way I'd come out.

 As the light started to fade, however, I soon realised the why to our foolery of heading back a different way - we acquired the elevation required to watch the sun set over the Peak moorland and turn the land silver then gold.

We had to sit and take a moment and wait while the beginnings of the Christmas tractor rallye sailed on by (I am sitting in my living room typing this and listening to them driving up the lane on the other side of our valley in Stannington).

the dog can see the pub from 'ere

From this aspect we could see Win Hill in the far distance as the sun set.

Crags above Bradfield I never knew existed because I've never been down this descent at a sensible speed for looking around me.

The final tinges of sunset over Bradfield moors - I couldn't hang around to watch it any longer as we were getting cold.  The constant rush to stay ahead of the light meant my feet were wet with sweat in my boots and my underwear was damp from sweating up the hills.  Lena started to limp on the steep downhill to Bradfield so before we fell into a lack of signal, I called TSK and asked him to come and pick us up in the van and save us.

I rode the brakes all the way down and we took a short cut down some steps to reach the cricket ground and tea shop.  Much to my relief the shop was open and we rushed out to hide from the breeze and scoff biscuits and tea while we waited.  

It was, absolutely what the psychiatrist (me) ordered.

A day of unintended consequences

As I walked the 🐕 to daycare I realised I had everything I needed with me. Not in a profound way, but in a literal way. So after I dropped her off I continued walking to work. The canal was beautiful in sunrise. Nature abounded. Songthrush, long tailed tits, greenfinch. I saw a man cross the Tinsley lock and decided to investigate the route on foot. I knew it reached the inner roundabout at J34 of the M1 but I did not realise it was such an oasis. Flimsy downy webs of frosted petals, long dead, glowed pink in the sunrise while Holly and rowan berries gleamed like tiny fruit against the white dust. I started hunting for bivi spots a la @Verena and as I stepped over a fallen tree my mind slid back to another time of sleeping out under frosts. A beautiful weeping willow offered up the best option for tree cover with flat ground. And still the trucks rolled by. I took a seat to write a few times, captivated by what had made the trails through the 1960s tarmac paths covered in dead leaves. Animals? Rough sleepers? Poor commuters? People like me? My questions were answered by a gaggle of children on their way to school. I pressed on. The M1 cut a ribbon like a river up the hill into Nottinghamshire. More new routes opened up to me from this new perspective of being on foot, watching the world unfold at a slower pace. Another duck under the underpass and I emerged next to a high fence, the motorway slip road on the other side. I broke into a wry grin. Someone had a lot of fun here on bonfire night! Tens of rocket carcasses libed the path. I should be scathing horrified but secretly I admired their daring. My new route cut out 2/3 of the uncomfortable road crossings and glass-splattered piss-ridden underpasses. I emerged on the road to work on the side I never ever use. It would be the right hand side for the direction of travel, so why would I have used it? But with the scooter it becomes legit. A tall grassy bank segregates it beautifully from the road. UntilI got to the shopping arcade where I buy my lunch. The pharmacy didn't have my drugs but the detour to try for them took my past this amazing maple holding onto a few nuts and the last of its leaves. I bought myself second breakfast to sustain my energies and revelled in eating it warm as I finished my hike up the hill. By now I was missing my scooter for the flat bits. My office day was nice and quiet. A few meetings came and went but I was gearing up for an afternoon session with the boss and some news about a project. The meeting happened and as I made to leave I got good news and approval for a new team mate. I was over the moon and left in a hurry to celebrate with the gift of daylight. The last of it made for a dramatically orange end which had Forgemasters swathed in inky blue and these thistles outlined with gold. I watched the last of the sun disappearing behind the locks again and bouncing light off successive levels of water. @cycling tiger wanted to drive out to a country pub and was walking to meet me from.doggy daycare. This turned into a catastrophic decision as we got ensnared in successive rounds of congestion. Low on diesel we eventually parked and took the dog for a walk. We wandered through town trying to come up with a dog friendly eatery but before we could, the Christmas Market dragged us in and we ate bratwurst and drank mulled wine on a stone bench behind the wooden trailers. It wasthe most Christmassy we've ever been on 1st December. We walked a different way back to the van and stumbled upon the bracket for my scooter light that I'd dropped yesterday. I was about to tear the house down thus weekend looking for that so, saved me a job. Thankfully the van was in the precarious parking spot we'd left it and the traffic had receded enough for us to pull back into traffic and resume with some progress. The adventure of getting home on fumes only brought us closer together as we ran the engine through successive light changes just to warm everyone up following our routemarch through town. It wa all made more exciting by Tescos being out of diesel, leaving us holding our breath until the next one. Did our dog walk mean that we missed the spectacular crash the parked someone's BMW on the traffic light bollards in the central reservation? We'll never know. 13 hours after originally leaving home without my scooter I arrived home with no visit to a country pub completed and absolutely no desire to drive anywhere tomorrow. There's irony that I didn't drive to work because I was tired, yet now I'm fecking exhausted but man, was it every a day worth completing! I might actually look forwards to next week now.