Omnibus

A lot of catching up to do. It's Sunday so time for the omnibus...

ROSSIFERTIETH

Day 1 Archery

What do you do when a major birthday milestone looms? I'm guessing most people would hire a big hall, invite loads of people and get drunk. Not my style. To celebrate my 30th year alive I planned it the only way I know how; as varied, fun and random as possible. Although it was my birthday, the real celebration was of the Purple Book and how my life had truly started since its creation.

I had plenty of ideas of activities I wanted to include, weirdly enough I'd already done all of them but I was determined to get others involved to introduce them to my world and hopefully introduce them to something they'd never done before so they could feel as I do every time I try something new. I had a few certs such as archery and rowing and a few maybe's such as jet skiing and paint balling  I wanted everything to be accessible to everyone and didn't 'want the cost to be a factor. After changing my mind several times I eventually came up with 3 days of fun. First up, archery...

Arriving at Maidenhead for the archery was a bit of a shock as we were greeted by a long queue of people and the promise of a 2 hour wait until we would shoot. Eventually we were greeted by cousin Ryan and Uncle Andy, really glad they were able to make it. Life isn't always easy for them so I'm glad they accepted the invite. After ages waiting in really hot weather we eventually got kitted up. Of all the activities this had been the hardest to find. Archery fever has hit the UK after the Olympics and the Hunger Games film. Stupidly I thought booking archery would be as easy as it was in Center Parcs back in the day but this was the only 'show up and have a go' day I could find.
It's been ages since I last fired an arrow but it soon feels natural enough. Archery is something I can easily see myself doing in the future. If I ever settle down into just having a couple of hobbies I'd like archery to be one of them. According to the chappie doing the training I have the perfect build for an archer, long arms with no pesky muscles getting in the way. Either that or he was being a sarccy bugger but I'll accept the former ;) I was partnering up with cousin Ryan while the two oldies where a bit further up together. From Mum's laughter and Dad's cursing I could tell who was winning, every time I looked over Mum was in the Gold and Dad was having to fetch wayward arrows at the end of each pass. Ryan needs some practise but the important thing is he's getting into it. As I've always said, the only thing better than experiencing new things for myself is seeing others do the same, that excitable spark that can only be gained from discovery.

Day 2 - Canoeing

Canoeing on the Thames looked and sounded cool, I love rowing but had never actually done canoeing where you're pretty much jammed into a solid sleeping bag and tasked with trying to go forward in a straight line. No one out side the Jenkins household was up for this one so me and the oldies rolled up to Thames Valley Business park and were in fact the only 3 doing it. The first obstacle was getting me into the boat. Our instructor ended up having to get out her tool kit to dis-assemble everything inside the canoe so I could fit.
Once in the water things started out OK, despite the fact we all had trouble moving forward in a straight line. What with the old man crashing into me and the various show off boats on the Thames making waves I was convinced I'd be doing a barrel roll in no time at all! About a 1/3 of the distance in I hear the sound I'd been dreading, a bloody great splash. I remember thinking 'Oh Goddddd which of them is it?!' I look around and see Dad still in his boat, oblivious to everything else as he was in the zone trying to go forward in a straight line. Blind panic ensued as I rowed back to the old woman who had capsized and managed to swallow half the Thames. Our instructor had got there first and I'd shouted at Dad to track back as well. Despite being in shallow water I could see Mum was well and truly freaking out, it took her ages to realise she could simply stand up on the river bed.
We eventually got Mum up onto the bank where she called it a day. We rowed back to the start towing her boat with us while she walked back on the towpath. We left her to read a book in the car and get as much of the Thames out of her system the same way it went in when we were out of view. We made our way back up the river, eventually going up the kennet at the fork in the river going towards Caversham. Dad had to stop at one point as the task was proving back breaking for the pair of us. With his usual style and grace he flopped out of the boat onto the bank for a breather. Like many of the Purple entries we all suffered for the joy today, it was something I loved doing but will skip in the future. Despite getting a lot more freedom in a canoe rowing is far more relaxing, I'd love to have access to a giant lake and my own boat to row on, can't think of a better Summer activity.

Day 3 - Segway & Go Ape

Not too much to write on this one. This was my fifth time segwaying, Mum's third, Dad's second and Abi's first. It would have been her second if Sean was able to have a go himself back in Segmay, I can't way until he's big enough so I can invite them both back. What to say? The weather was perfect, the path section was great, the offroad bit even better and we all loved it. Dad bailed trying to do a sneaky shortcut on the hard course and that downhill section of the hard course was awesome as ever. Riding a Segway is like riding a bike, stupidly tricky the first time you do it then ridiculously easy every other time. If I was to wait 20 years to have another go I'd still pick it up in seconds. If I had a spare couple of grand I'd have one of my own along with the bragging rights of the coolest way of getting to work each day :)

Go Ape was the joint highlight of the 3 days of fun along with the Archery. It's one of those things I know puts a lot of people off because of the rope ladders bit which is a shame as the zip wire bit is the bit everyone wants to try. After the briefing I dragged Abi to the front with the usual tactics, get to the training section first! Unless you are patience personified you really want to be the first of the group to go, especially if there are kids in the group as they have to be supervised on all sections of the course.

Happily I was up all the rope ladders like a rat up a drain pipe. I usually can't stand them but a good talking to goes a long way. We had what looked like the cast of The only way is Essex behind us, all oranged up wearing whatever is on the pages of Front and OK this week. I must be getting old when I look at spacer earrings on blokes and want to give them a good slapping for their stupidity. Damn it I'm 30 now, give it 10 more years and I'll probably start writing letters of complaint and needing reading glasses...
After getting through all the usual sections we come to a new bit, the final section is now split into two so two people can swing into the cargo net at the same time, a fantastic idea. This is also the section blokes dread though, the drop before the swing is no less forgiving on the gentleman region. After the final zip wire section it is the end of the 3 days of fun but the start of a brand new adventure...

Pennine Way

This part of my Rossifertieth had been planned a while back and although it had nothing really to do with my birthday it was a cool way of extending my celebrations. It started with drunk chatter around the fire down in Brighton where me and Abz promised ourselves a holiday together away from the Prawn, work and civilisation. The Pennine Way stretches 268 miles along the backbone of England from Edale in Derbyshire to Kirk Yetholm just inside the Scottish border and is one of the most famous walks you could hope to do in Britain. Our aim was to do a small chunk of the route, Edale to Stanedge. Despite the fact we would be taking all our stuff with our via 2 beasts, we were walking in August so thought the weather would be kind to us. I was actually  concerned about getting too hot on the journey. I wouldn't have to worry...
The same curse that seems to afflict the two oldies on their holidays seems to be following me and Abz. Camping in Brighton had brought with it the worst winds I'd ever been out in and the Pennines would bring their own forms of trouble.
After camping overnight in Edale we started on the walk itself, going past the Old Nags Head, the official start of the Pennine Way. We'd be seeing a lot more of this place even though we didn't realise it yet...

Despite being as unprepared as usual I felt confident walking with Abz who, as a Mum, was infinitely more organised than I was. We had no OS map and I had no waterproofs but of course didn't think this would be a problem, this being the Summer after all. Half an hour into the walk it started to drizzle. I quickly started to get wet from head to ankle, luckily my feet were keeping dry thanks to my posh new hiking boots I'd got for my birthday. Every trip like this I become more adept to my surroundings and it seems i'm starting from the ground up, put simply I love my birthday boots x

After 90 minutes or so we reached Jacob's ladder, a relentlessly steep ascent of man made stone steps which is no laughing matter when you're tired, soaking wet and carrying a beast on your back. Once we'd reached the top we were both feeling pretty knackered. Abz's boots were getting wet at this point and I was starting to lose the feeling in my hands as they were getting soaked. We'd been passed by a chappie on his gap year before joining the army and he was already long gone. He was planning to walk the whole route before fighting for queen and country and I have no doubts he managed to do it within breaking a sweat.

After another couple of hours we came across a giant peat bog. The weather had   well and truly set in with a dense fog shielding the way forward. We'd been following the traditional cairns up to this point, piles of rocks and stones used to guide travellers. I spent most of the journey wandering why a nice sign post with an arrow wouldn't have been better and even more so once we'd trekked across a stream and got ourselves lost at the bog. With no visibility or idea on where to go next things weren't looking great. Would we have to try and camp out here? Abz's phone wasn't working as phone reception was a no go in the whole region. We tried to escape the region with Abz falling into one of the bog's and damn near getting stuck. We eventually across a lifeline, a local walking his dog with a fancy GPS gizmo and OS map. I secretly hated him for having one of those smug 'Ha ha look at these amateurs getting lost' attitudes, especially as I was now in a bit of trouble thanks to my lack of water proofs and now completely numb fingers but was grateful to see someone else. We found out we were now wayyyy off the Pennine Way. Priority now though was reaching civilisation. He directed us to the nearest village which ended up being Hayfield. After what seemed like an eternity we started to see early signs of anything other than complete wilderness. Gates, an abandoned factory and A ROAD! As well as my fingers being screwed my feet were now starting to get wet, my boots had eventually given in to the elements. We came up to a house and asked the friendly owner for the nearest pub, it was a few minutes down the road she said. After a few minutes and a bit more I saw the most beautiful view of the day, the Sportsman Inn. This was to become a close third to Find the Bridge parts one and two when I damn near burst into tears upon the sight of the pub and hotel after being so knackered, I was so relieved to find this place. It was warm, dry and cosy. I stripped off to my first layer and had my boots and socks off as well and flip flops on.
After 5 minutes of just sitting and breathing without the beast on I ordered 2 pots of tea, 2 plates of food and then asked Abz what she wanted. Only after a certain amount of hell do you truly appreciate the small things in life such as tea and chilli con carne. After a while I had a look at a map they had on the wall of the pub. Only then did we realise just how far we'd strayed off course. We had been walking for over 9 hours, clocking up who knows how many miles and we'd screwed up, big time. I'm still claiming to have someone or something watching my back ever since that evening at Pavlov's Dog but in all seriousness we could have been in real trouble out on the bog. Instead of the straight line from Edale to the youth hostel at Crowden we'd done a dog leg and ended up in Hayfield. We had to decide what to do next. Miles away from Crowden, with pre-paid tickets from Manchester to home we had to decide whether to go to the next nearest train station at Glossop or cut our losses and go back to Edale. We decided on the latter, and after a second lot of grub were taken back to Edale by the local friendly taxi driver. Say what you like about northerners I've never met friendlier people on this earth. Abz was chatting to him the whole journey, I chipped in now and again but was too knackered for anything more.

We eventually got back to Edale where we'd started. Our original campsite was fully booked (despite only looking half full) which ended up in our favour as we went up the road to the second camp site. This one was run by a husband and wife team, the woman in the cottage ribbed me for carrying what was the lightest of both beasts though this was only due to Abi's stuff being saturated with rain. The site had a small shop run by the husband and a cafe by either their daughters or other local girls, a truly homely place I'd love to visit again. The shop had a cash point plus waterproofs, and giant socks which I will never be without again. Each adventure teaches me something new and I will never leave home ready for a soaking again.

The campsite was also home to a camper van and sold camper van mugs which meant I loved it even more. We spent the next day chilling in the area trying to dry all our clothes and equipment out. We went to the Nags Head a couple of times as well as the visitor centre at the old camp site. As well as Internet access it had a gift shop so Abz could get the little dude something for the occasion. After spending the evening in the other pub in Edale we woke up the next morning and made out way to Manchester, via train and not on foot as we had planned.

The rest of the day was spent soaking up time til home time. The Paralympics were on so amongst other things, we stopped to watch some footage at the seating area that had been set up in the city, a great idea. There was a sign saying all bags would be searched on the way in but the bloke on the gate took one look at our beasts and thought he wouldn't bother. Two knackered travellers with bloody big bags to search just wasn't worth the effort. I was planning on taking Abz to my new favourite eatery in Reading eventually and luckily Manchester is home to two Tampopo's. Despite having to lug all my stuff around I came out with a bottle of the lush chilli sauce they have with the prawn crackers, one of the many reasons I keep eating there. We spent the next couple of hours exploring Manchester. We were in the Man City section of the city, football obviously dominates here with a clear divide on who supports who. The city has some great quirky shops including a funky looking sculpture on top of one of the roofs. If it wasn't for both of our shoulders nearly giving up[ on us we would have spent more time exploring but decided to make our way to the train station. The next couple of hours were spent up on the first floor people watching with the beasts of our back, playing cards and reading until our trains flashed up on the time board. Eventually the time came and we said our goodbyes, I was on the train to Reading and Abz was London bound. Once again this adventure had it's fair share of ups and downs, the downs just adding to the whole experience. After a few weeks the feeling eventually returned to all of my fingers after the 9 hour deluge out on the Pennine Way. The lessons learnt would help me no end in further ventures, including the one found a stone's throw from 'Find the Bridge Part one'...

Open Mic and Scafell Pike

The first part of this has little to do with me but still merits an entry into the book as it was performed by a good mate who is as delightfully random as the book itself. Jason managed to start his road towards the Open Mic championships whilst shopping in town. They were hosting a 'Reading's got Talent' where he went up and sang everyone a song. This led to a quarter, a semi and a final round which ultimately led to his inclusion in the night in question. Open Mic UK is a chance for unsigned talent to put themselves in front of people from 'the industry' who can open doors to stardom should you impress them. He was up against 11 other singers from a very eclectic mix of genres. After getting to the venue early and trying to shelter from the bad weather outside Jason rocked up, full of confidence. A few minutes later the supporters were allowed in. Before Jason's turn we had SCARLETINAAAA, an angry sounding sister rapping about splitting up from her fella, a white bloke trying to rap (rarely a good thing) a Lithuanian with a fantastic basque but average voice, a few singer song writers and a few more singers. Then it was Jason's go, singing 'drugs don't work'. If I'd been wearing a hat i'd have taken it off in respect, anyone who can stand up on stage and sing has balls of steel. He ended up missing out on the judges and audience vote but it didn't seem to matter, it was now time to party.
The photo to the left is all you're getting for this one. Let's just say it's the most extreme night out I've ever been on and what happened will stay on the night out. This is one entry I'm happy to enjoy without divulging to the masses...

No rest for the wicked, that phrase held new meaning the morning after the night before. After the night's frivolity I had just over an hour to get myself home, pack my stuff and get to the station to get to Lancaster. The two trains would take around 4 1/2 hours to get me up north to this reassuringly unchanged beauty of a place. All the buildings look as if they'll outlast time itself. I can imagine the interiors being as warm as toast to protect from the often biting cold and unforgiving rain that can only come this far up north in England.
After meeting up with Pyro at the station we waited for Dawson and Big Bren to join us. We had all the camping gear in one car along with the 4 of us which meant trying to fold myself around everything. After getting to the holiday home they'd been using for the week we split into two cars, I ended up with Big Bren and Jessie the dog. Always wondered why I love cats over dogs, I was about to find out why. On the 2+ hour journey to Wasdale Jessie spent just under 2 hours of it bouncing back and forth on the back seat every time she wanted food, drink or the toilet. Weirdly enough though this wasn't unexpected. My 3 travellers were all at one point part of the Science crew at work, a department known for their often baffling behaviour so none of this, or the events to come would come as a shock.
The Wasdale site is National Trust run, I'm still in two minds about an organisation that is stoic in it's revitalisation of various parts of Britain but at the same time banning wild camping. The sight of the National Trust signs filled me with dread during 'Find the Bridge part 1'. Our mission here was to climb England's highest peak, Scafell Pike. I'd come close before but knew this time I'd be guaranteed a summit, what with camping right at it's base. Little did I know I'd be climbing it twice in one week...

As bad weather was forecast on the Wednesday we ended up scaling it on Tuesday. I say 'we', the two elder statesmen ended back at base camp after 20 minutes after Big Bren complained of chest pains. Me and Pyro made our way up, following the cairns and going up the 'fun route', a scramble up a loose rock slope and climbing up a rocky section. Loved that bit! After spending the next day in Windermere, joined by Nicole, Dawson told us he was determined to make it to the summit. So on the Thursday, with Big Bren now on her way home with Pyro's lovely lady (and Jessie), the 3 of us went up and had another go. This time we saw snow capped peaks from the camp site. It had been snowing in the hills over night, we'd had the temperatures but now the white stuff so it was great to see the first snow of the year. The climb up on the Thursday seemed much easier. This time we knew exactly where we were going and the snow actually made it easier going up. Any precarious rocks or gaps were now covered in a thick layer of snow to protect us. Weirdly enough though, Dawson was accusing me and Pyro of showing off by racing ahead then waiting for him to catch up. Despite doing this to make sure he wasn't left alone, he still insisted we were taking the Mick. After much sulking and cursing we managed to get him to the top. While we were having a second picture taken though Dawson decided to make his own way back down. Despite being a chain smoking bloke devoid of any fitness we had no sight of him with only a 10 minute head start. With every minute we descended we wondered where the hell he'd gone to. We went down the easier route, not via the scramble which it seemed he was taking, not the best route out in the snow on your own. About 30 minutes from the bottom we eventually caught glimpse of him. He'd calmed down a bit but was still calling us show offs.


This argument would last until the one pub in Wasdale and then until 1 in the morning. It wasn't enough to have Pyro and Dawson gleefully effing and blinding amongst themselves in the pub without doing it again at the campsite. We were in danger of getting thrown out of both, Dawson was already getting weird looks throughout the week without all this. I'm pretty sure they don't get many black, homosexual South Africans up north so he wasn't doing himself any favours if he wanted to stay inconspicuous. Like I said earlier, camping up north, during autumn, with the science crew, none of this seemed weird in the least...

Another great little adventure with plenty of great memories and little details. Driving back from Windermere all kind of lost. Going down the narrow country lane and coming across the flood. Big Bren cursing and Jessie going mental in the car. The solitary pub in Wasdale with the huge INN written in black ink on the side. The 'village green' being no bigger than my front garden. Going without sleep for over 40 hours after that night out. Climbing 'Scafell Masiff' twice and this time getting my kit perfect, not a drop got through. Fingers crossed in the Summer next year I'll be on my way to the big one, Ben Nevis, the final of the 3 peaks. Whether it's with the Science crew, the two oldies or just me, I know the events will end up on this page with a similarly looking windswept photo of yours truly.

Rossifer x