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We have all come across him – or at least his descendants. Augustus Carp is a monster: an arrogant, self-righteous (and self-serving) prig, misogynist and crashing bore. Believing himself to be the epitome of a Christian (or “Xtian”) gentleman, Augustus cheerfully ignores the caution “let him that is without sin cast the first stone” for in his eyes he IS without sin. He takes malicious pleasure in exposing and punishing those who fail to measure up to his own exacting standards – especially if he gains personal advantage as a result.

A monster, but what a comic creation he is.

Augustus displays a stunning lack of insight that leads to hilarious encounters as he constantly misinterprets the reactions of others to his pompous outpourings. His encounters with Mrs Lorton are especially enjoyable as her stifled laughter is interpreted as emotional sobs of remorse.

Both he and his father are steeped in the deadly sins that they affect to condemn. They are martyrs to gastric problems and chronic flatulence as a result of their gluttony.  There is not one ounce of charity in Augustus’ soul, but avarice, pride, sloth and envy abound in this “really good man”.

As you laugh (and laugh you will) you also long for him to get his comeuppance. He does, deliciously, but there is a sting in the tail as Augustus is reborn to plague the next generation.

I’ve just re-read it for the third time and still find myself snorting with laughter. Beg, steal, borrow (or even buy!) this book. Almost 90 years old and still, in my opinion, a masterpiece.

Augustus Carp, Esq. Being the Autobiography of a Really Good Man. by Sir Henry Howarth Bashford

Labels: Reviews

It's January - lurching damply into February. Let's face it - it's a bloody miserable time of year. Short days, and what daylight there is has so far been mostly filled with brass monkey frost, snow or grey persistent rain. The flower decked footpaths of summer have become slithering death traps made of slurried mud and dog muck.

How does one escape the midwinter blues, especially after enduring  the Christmas burden of being nice to people that you spend the rest of the year avoiding? Well, how about revisiting your last summer jaunt? I've been doing just that, and my current liferaft is to sip a warming Rioja and drift back to Spain, in September ....

Quite why the Picos de Europa are not overrun with brits is a bit of a mystery, considering how easily accessible they are to the economy traveller - in fact not much more expensive to get there from southern englandshire than it is to the highlands of Scotland.

David crossing a steep arete

At the beginning of September we (brother-in-law David & I) took a Tuesday Ryanair flight to Santander where we picked up a hire car to drive to the Casa Cipriano in Sotres for the start of our walk the following day. We did a three day loop from Sotres, taking in the refuge under the Picu Urriellu (Naranjo de Bulnes) where we spent a convivial evening,  followed by a night interrupted by various climbers who had under-estimated the time that climbing Urriellu would actually take (they descended by head torch late at night). Then we went off on less frequented paths through some of the most spectacular limestone country that I have ever seen.

More upwardness

A long trip on unfamiliar ground brings home the importance of careful navigation, and day two brought this point to the fore - twice!  Observe the picture of me to the right. If you click on the picture to enlarge it you will see that I have a hydration tube clipped to the rucksack chest strap. This is an Osprey Hydraform and very good it is too - but there is a trap for the unwary in its cunning design. The tube attaches, not with a clip, but with powerful magnets on both the valve and the strap. This makes stowing the tube and valve very easy indeed. Put ir vaguely in the right area and it snaps smartly into place. So stow it before you use your compass and keep the compass well away!  My oh-so- careful compass bearing was just slightly off. Alright, a lot off. Fortunately before we had not gone too far before we noticed that the sun was in the wrong place!
 
The other more general navigational point to note in the Picos is that whilst the main paths are waymarked, the maps of the area aren't exactly OS standard, and less frequented routes across bare rock and scree are not always that obvious on the ground. After lunch on day two we strayed off piste following a line of small cairns through a ravine. Unbeknownst to us, this was parallel to our intended route (which had no waymarks). The cairns led down a steep scree filled valley and after about 1k we realised that we were slowly turning away from the correct bearing. The map was consulted. Damn - we had come down the wrong ravine. We were just 500 meteres off course, but it was a hell of scramble to get back. The well defined path with the cairns was not on the map at all!

But that was no problem. We knew where we were. We knew where we wanted to go. Indeed we could see where we wanted to go. So off we trotted. It was just the unforeseen (and unmarked) ravines, bottomless potholes and sharp boot shredding rocks in between that made our progress slower than a three legged tortoise with arthritis. And to make the afternoon just perfect, on the last scramble I dropped a walking pole which bounced, teetered and plummeted down a pot hole. I could hear it rattle and chink ever more faintly for a good 30 seconds or so. 

Fortunately just as we approached yet another impassable chasm we came across a shepherd bringing his flock of milking ewes to a new pasture, and he pointed out a faint trail that put us back on track with minimal effort. Frankly, after an afternoon's floundering, that was bit of a relief - and the evening beers when we finally ambled into Bulnes after a long day were very welcome indeed!

Naranjo de Bulnes

But that bit of excitement aside, we had a superb trip. Blue skies, comfortable temperatures and as for the scenery - well it's just fantastic. An evening high in the Picos is sublime. Clear sky and stars above, a blanket of cloud below and just a few chamois for company ... well, and Dave of course.

Plus, as I mentioned right at the start, it's so cheap to get there. Here are the base costs (we put both rucksacks into one carrier - so only one luggage charge for two). Some sample prices:

•  Return flights Stansted/ Santander: £91.98 pp. inc luggage.
• Car Hire: £55.38 plus fuel. We reserved a wee microcar, but actually got a very presentable Renault Clio. 
• Hotel in Sotres: about £45pp inc dinner and drinks.

Not bad eh? And here are a few more pictures to tempt you. Early September seems the ideal time to me - the crowds have gone, and midweek you can pretty much have the place to yourself once away from the pinch points near the refuges and the odd village (not many of those - and those you do find are largely abandoned).

Wayside flowers

Insane danglers on the Naranjo de Bulnes - look at the guy top left! (click to enlarge)

A young couple enjoy a moment of solitude

David meets some chamois (reminds me - must wash the car)

A handy rope

The shepherd's guard dog

Bridge in abandoned village

On the funicular below the mountain from Bulnes to Poncebos Our next September jaunt is already in the planning stage - the Mercantour National Park in the Alpes Maritimes - as my french is rather better than my Spanish, we may get to have a wider choice of menu - although one can grow to like the various chorizo and sheeps cheeses, a little variety goes a long way.  Toodle pip for now :-)

Labels: Holidays, Walks and Routes

It's quite a few years since Doodlecat struggled into life, initially as a vehicle for the publication of people's accounts of adventures on the TGO Challenge, and to increase interest in that superb event and its sponsors. There comes a time when you can have too much of a good thing, and unlike 2005, so many people now have blogs and social media that good stuff is published everywhere. With the refinement of search engines like Google, this information is dead easy to find. So I'm sorry to say that there will be no 2012 accounts or new links published on Doodlecat this year, nor any other year for the foreseeable future.

I had intended to discontinue publication of TGO stories three years ago, but was persuaded to continue. However, now it is obvious that there really is no need for it any more. The more popular stories will remain on the page of course (they are very popular from October to February ... for some reason). The early accounts especially give an insight into the history of the event, and it is interesting to compare "then" with "now" over some thirty years. I am very grateful to all the contributors.

Thanks are also due for the occasional guest contributions to the blog, especially from Michael Gray. Again the original concept has been overtaken by events. Originally not many people had blogs, or wanted one, so the idea was to have a pool of contributors with access to the Doodlecat blog giving a stream of differing opinion, trip reports and so-on. However, technology improves almost by the day, and before long, clunky blogging software became much more user friendly. Dedicated writers started their own blogs, and for the more sociable and laconic writer, Twitter and Facebook came on the scene.

So the original reasons for creating Doodlecat have finally become redundant.

And my level of interest in reading and writing about outdoor stuff has waned somewhat too. However well crafted, there is only so much travelogue that a body can read.

Doodlecat will no longer be an outdoors website (although some outdoorsy content will be included of course - watch out for the Picos de Europa in the autumn). In the main, though, another sort of rambling will be appearing here, and the site will have a bit of an overhaul over the coming months.

The TGO Challenge is now in full swing. Of course many of us cannot participate this year, either because of other priorities, we didn't get selected, or we didn't apply. Oh, but we're curious, aren't we? Even if we're just thinking about giving it a go for the first time next year?

Thanks to the excellent chaps at Adventure Trading Post, suppliers of the Spot emergency locator,  a baker's dozen of this years contingent can be tracked live as they progress across the wilds of Scotland. Here is today's map.

Map showing 'Spot' users on the TGO Challenge 2012 May 13th

Biology students will notice the unfortunate resemblance to spermatozoa rushing to fertilise the Montrose egg, for that is where they will all end up - eventually. In the meantime it's quite good fun to follow their sometimes eccentric progress by opening the map here.

These are just a dozen or so out of three hundred. Good luck to all of you - hope you have a fantastic time!

Labels: TGO Challenge

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The three amigos being, in no particular order, Alan Sloman, Andrew Walker and David Wilkinson - soon to be TGO Challengers setting off from Morar into the inhospitable wilds of Knoydart ... then more and more wilds all the way across Scotland. But the Highlands of Scotland, although wilder than a Troggs single, have two great challenges for the flatlander fenboys of the south. It is very lumpy, being almost entirely composed of unfeasibly high lumpy bits. And boggy bits too. Admittedly the fens are frequently boggy, but they are at least level, whereas the cunning scot has devised a method of cultivating deep soupy bogs on slopes of sixty degrees or more. So, with insufficient time (and funds) for a trip north of the border, a brief foray into Lakeland (not the kitchen shop) was devised to prepare for these challenges and acclimatise to unaccustomed altitude. So it was that on Thursday four largish chaps squeezed in to a smallish car and headed up the M6 and to Langdale for a couple of days of walking and testing kit and body. Would either fail? Read on.

A very yellow Trailstar

 The weather forecast was for rain, thunderstorms and snow over 600m. Predictably after a brief foray around the retail establishments of Ambleside (and a visit to the Golden Rule - best pub in the town), we arrived in bright afternoon sunshine to pop up the tents at the excellent NT camp site in Great Langdale. It was here that Andrew produced his newest piece of gear - a spankng new Trailstar tarpy/tenty type thing in a startling yellow that I had not experienced since 1973, when I had a Ford Cortina in the same colour (Daytona Yellow, as I recall). The colour scheme may have been a tad retro, but not so the tent (for it had become a tent with the addition of an Oookstar inner - which I have to say is a really, really clever piece of kit that bridges the gap between tent and tarp, keeping the advantages of each for just 370gms, less the weight of the bivi bag that you no longer need).

Soooooo spacious!

Tents up, Trailstar admired, we experienced a very brief shower before heading off to the Old Dungeon Ghyll bar for a light supper and a few beers. Here we discovered Moorhouse's Black Cat - a truly excellent dark beer, and ideal session ale. One pint leads wonderfully to another with a dark chocolate flavour and a nice palate cleansing bite of hops on the finish. Yes, I liked it ;-)

We slept well and awoke to a perfect morning with sunshine and just a few clouds. After a leasurely breakfast we were packed and ready for our trundle up Mickleden to Stakes Pass and on to the Langdale Pikes for a bit of unaccustomed ascent. We were quite pleased to be on our way and in good order by 10 o' clock, as previous experiences at the ODG had left us staggering in to the bar, bleary eyed, for coffee at eleven.

But as Andrew had left his map on the car roof, we tarried at the hotel anyway whilst he jogged back to retrieve it. There was a small debate along the lines of "well, we're late anyway, and they'll be open soon", but temptation was resisted and we were soon at the bottom of Stakes Pass enjoying a brief shower (sufficient for us to postpone elevenses until we were at the top).

Alan on Pike o' Stickle

Until we were at the top ... Dear reader, you have no idea what it is like for a bunch of flaccid flatlanders who last saw a hill in the autumn to stagger up this path in the Spring. We made it though, and celebrated the ascent with a sit down and a nice cup of tea. Fortified we set off to the Pike o' Stickle where, after a bit of lunch and another cuppa, we dropped our packs and scrambled to the top to take in the terrific views. I was pleased to note from my altimeter watch that since leaving the camp site we had achieved over 2000ft of ascent. Alan promptly felt faint and said he thought that he might have a nosebleed coming on. Andrew grinned (or maybe grimaced) Dave ruminated on his unfinished Independent crossword. Then it was off to complete our tour, bypassing Harrison Stickle (one stickle is enough, really) taking in more ascent to the dizzying height of 723m (2372ft) at Thunacar Knott and on to another spendid viewpoint, Sergeant Man. This gives a wonderful prospect of Pavey Ark, Stickle Tarn and far reaching views to ... well ... the horizon I guess. Alan claimed to discern Morecambe Bay, Coniston Old Man and other bits and pieces. I wasn't really paying attention as my phone had got a signal and the messages weren't great. Barclays Bank had spectactularly cocked up opening an executors' account for my mum's estate and were now phoning back 36 hours late. Grrrrrrr, I can't wait for Monday when I can get at the useless buggers.

View from Sergeant Man

 Thence it was off to Codale Tarn to find a spot to camp. We decided on a direct route, eschewing paths, and, Challenge style, struck out across country picking our way to our objective - stared at by a party slogging up a rubbly path as we skipped down the greensward, neatly avoiding the odd inconvenient crag. We found a spiffing spot with views down to Grasmere village, Rydal Water and Windermere. Tents up, a bit of a social, supper and a well earned early bed. ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Camp by Codale Tarn

The next day was Saturday. Once we had packed and climbed back up over the ridge to drop on to Stickle Tarn our strategy in avoiding the weekend was fully justified. Honestly, the average shopping mall would be pleased to have as many people thronging the aisles. At a weekend there are numerous opportunities in the Lakes to enjoy really fab countryside far from the madding crowd (for example, when pressed to a week-end in the past, we have explored from Dunnerdale - nice pub, good campsite, no crowds). However, I guess that as we ourselves were now numbered amongst the crowds we couldn't really complain - but we did find an alternative route down that avoided the throng coming up. Amazingly, a few hundred yards off the main drag, you can still be entirely alone, so why people trudge up the fells in huge crocodiles is a mystery. Still, it keeps the rest nice and empty for us.

The week-end hordes approach!

I have mentioned the effect of unaccustomed effort of ascent on the untrained leg. That is nothing compared with the rigour of descent. Sheer bloody purgatory. The constant braking effort - especially when you encounter a path lovingly restored by those "fix the fells" jokers with all the stones sloping downwards, so that any that are wet or icy precipitate a nasty fall for the unwary. However, we survived their efforts to thin out the tourist horde by selective injury and made it safely back to the Old Dungeon Ghyll by lunchtime, in time for restorative coffees and beers before fish and chips in Ambleside and the long trek home.

After all this, the burning question is, are the Three Amigos ready for the trials that await them? Well, of course they are. They are, after all, heading for a gigantic party in Montrose, and nothing will stand between these three and a party. A couple of days lying down in a darkened room and they'll be over the shock of upwardness and ready for anything that Scotland can throw in their way.

The Three Amigos

Labels: Gear, TGO Challenge, Walks and Routes

Although I will not be on this year's TGO Challenge in May, the annual warm-up for the fen boys is going ahead. The pre-walk daunder has become something of a fixture in April's calendar, when a bunch of flatlanders go somewhere hilly and stare aghast at the mountains. They always seem so much higher, steeper and wetter that we remembered them.

And then there are the unaccustomed ascents. Distance - we can do distance, no problem. It's the height gain that leaves us gasping like beached fish. Hence two or three days gentle acclimatisation before the big event in Scotland.

Report and photos coming soon - but in the meantime for all you Challengers who have been putting off that final bit of training, here is a little widget that shows you exactly how much time you have left to get 'hill fit'. Not long now

ONLINE COUNTDOWNS

Labels: TGO Challenge