So, this last weekend was supposed to be the BCUK Kent groups first outting overnight. The plan was simple, meet up, wander into woods, camp, wander back the next day.
Alas real life gets in the way of the best of plans and I find myself the last one planning on going. Not a problem thinks I, It's a lovely weekend, I'll go on my own.
I packed my bag, watered the plants, and left for the station.
I stopped off en route to pick up some food. But had generally uneventful train journey to one stop past the middle of nowhere.
Went I left home it was kinda cloudy, the sun wasn't out, and I didn't bother putting sun cream on. This was a mistake. When I left the train, I stepped onto a baking hot sun parched platform and regretted my packing choice. Doh. I also realised that I had left the map on the bed next to the suncream. And so promptly walked out the station in the wrong direction. Going well...
I wandered round on some blacktop hunting for signs I was going in the right way, eventually finding a footpath that should go where I wanted, and headed under the canopy. At this point, I took to hiking much like the Maltese drive, In the shade. My pack seemed heavy, heavier than I had intended it to be. I'd done the maths, the base weight was 6kg, plus food, water, and camera gear. I put the fatigue down to the weather, and pressed on. It's not far, I know my intended camp site was about 3.5 miles from the station. As my gps clocked past 6km, I started to wonder. A group of hikers passing in the opposite direction let me look at their map, and I realised I was still 4km from my intended destination. Doh. Onwards.
A couple of interesting trees along the way:
I stopped twice on the hike there for a drink, and it was at the second stop that I had a wakeup call. I took a swig of drink, looked at the bottles I had with me, looked at the weather, and the rate I was going through it, and thought "oops". With pack on, and in this weather, I am not entirely sure it's possible to carry enough water to hike safely. Not ideal.
Eventually, after my gps said I had done 10k, I arrived at the campsite, 3.5 miles from where I started (since checking the gps trace, this is another case of my gps being silly, on the plus side, I didn't break the sound barrier this time). Aside from exiting the station on the wrong side, I had taken the route I had intended.
The campsite was delightful in it's welcome. I plonked my pack by a fallen tree, sat down and enjoyed the forest. It was good to be back.
So good, the occupants of the forest welcomed my back with an appetite. Swarms of blood sucking insects soon found me. Insect repellent, I knew I meant to pack some. Oops. Ah well, adapt and overcome.
I lit a fire. A Smokey fire. The smoke gently rising and barely dissipating in the slightest whisper of a breeze. The insects disappeared.
The fire:
I took a swig from my bottle. Empty. Just the second bottle to go, 1.25L to last me until I return to civilisation tomorrow. In theory a muddy stream flowed just a dozen yards from my campsite. But in this weather, there was no perceivable flow, and the muddy contents did not look even close to drinkable. Ah well, rationing it is. The fill marks on my new evernew cup proved invaluable here. I had 5 250ml cups of tea left in the bottle. Enough to get me back to civilisation as long as I don't waste it.
Fire check. Water, kinda check. Food next.
I pulled from my bag a few bits and pieces to cook, nothing extravagant. The menu, chicken roasted in red pepper and onion, with rosemary roast potatoes and a gravy. All pretty simple. In one bundle of tin foil went onion, red pepper, thyme, black pepper, olive oil, and a pinch of salt. In the other went potatoes, rosemary, pinch of salt, shot of black pepper, and a squirt of olive oil. Wrap up, stick in the ember bed of the fire, wait an hour, serve.
Step 1, ember bed. This was actually easier than I had expected. The wood burned down to a beautiful ember bed. Parcels of food ready. Cook.
Food parcels:
Ember bed:
With dinner on the go, I set a timer on my phone, and lay down to enjoy the woods.
Dinner cooking:
Dinner was an outstanding success. The chicken so tender that it practically fell apart trying to remove it from the foil parcel. The peppers roasted down beautifully. The spuds, crispy. Yum.
I chased dinner down with a mug of tea (carefully rationed) and put my mind to the next on the list. I'd done fire, water, and food. Next up shelter.
I had carried a basha with me, but the night was so clear and the forecast had no rain in it for days, that I decided to just go with the bivvi bag. I inflated my matt, rolled out the rest of the bedding, and prepared camp for sleep. I had sausages in my bag for the morning, so knew I would want a fire again. Not wanting to mess around in the morning, I piled firewood the night before, stacking it neatly next to the fire, I put my camera tripod up (I had been using it for some long exposures), and hung my food bag from it. Experience had taught me, in the American woods you put the food in a tree to keep it away from bears, in the British woods, you put it off the ground to keep it from slugs. Same principle, slight order of magnitude of snarly creature...
My bed for the night:
By now the sun was set and the camp was quiet. Nothing else to do but perform the bivvi bag wriggle, and lay back and listen to the birds.
The bivvi bag wriggle is the most exhaustive exercise you can possibly do without needing to run up a hill. The principle is simple, get your whole body into the sleeping bag liner, that is inside the sleeping bag, that is inside the bivvi bag, while maintaining the zip on the sleeping bag where you can reach it, the toggle on the sleeping bag liner where you don't lay on it, and the whole lot the right way round so that you don't end up with your face covered. All this is specifically designed to wake you up fully.
Wriggle complete, I lay back, listened to the birds, and realised I needed to pee...
So, out of the bivvi bag, and into the shrubbery, tripping over every fallen tree and branch you can find on the longest route you can take between bed and the tree you intend to use... Then reverse the proceedure finding a whole new set of fallen woodland on the way back, as you have tried to remember where the ones you fell over on the way out are... only to then have to perform the bivvi bag wriggle once again. Thus, with an empty bladder, you can lay next to a tree in the forest wide awake listening to the birds.
*relax*.
The wood I was camping in is a beautiful broadleaf woodland, a fine example of British scenery. So magnificent was it that some other intelligent locals had chosen to sleep there that night. Yep, I'd set up camp in a crow (or other corvid) roost. What better to sing you to sleep than a murder of crows exchanging gossip... I started to wonder if I had in fact wandered onto a Hitchcock film set...
I slept ok at first, but as the night wore on, I woke up a few times, finding I was cold. Before eventually having a fitful slumber and waking with my alarm.
Last night the wood was beautiful. In the light of dawn, it went to whole new levels. Wow. I tried to take some photos but simply could not do it justice. So I set my mind to something much more achievable, breakfast.
The morning's view:
I had two sausages from the butchers that I had intended to cook in the foil with the left over onion and pepper from the night before. All pretty simple. When I tried it, they cooked, all the way through, but the skins had no colour or crispyness to them. So I eventually pulled them out of the foil, and dumped them on the coals. Simpler, if slightly more crunchy.
Breakfast ready for the fire:
Breakfast done, I had my last mug of tea, leaving just enough water in the bottle for a mouthful or so when I got back to the station. Then set to the morning routine. Fire out, pack up kit, break camp (will fix it later. "badum tish!", sorry). I took a photo of where I had camped, and headed off towards civilisation.
Nothing left behind:
On the way back I passed a couple of streams, an a few ponds, cursing that I didn't have with me the equipment to treat the water and make it drinkable. Fortunately I passed some people sat outside a cottage, and they were kind enough to refill my bottles for me. I drank a litre of water on the way back to the station, where upon I got a bottle of coke. Another pint of squash when I got home, and between the 2L, I was feeling properly hydrated.
One of the next BCUK Kent group events is going to be about lowland water sources, how to find, choose, and treat them. I don't want to be in this situation again.
All in all I walked about 8km each day, with 16kg on the way out, and 13kg on the way back. All packed into my 32L backpack. (Will discuss some kit related thoughts in another thread in the kit chatter section).
Water, suncream and insect repellent aside. The trip was a success. All went to plan, no rescue was needed, no sound barrier broken.
Am looking forward to getting out again.
Julia
Alas real life gets in the way of the best of plans and I find myself the last one planning on going. Not a problem thinks I, It's a lovely weekend, I'll go on my own.
I packed my bag, watered the plants, and left for the station.
I stopped off en route to pick up some food. But had generally uneventful train journey to one stop past the middle of nowhere.
Went I left home it was kinda cloudy, the sun wasn't out, and I didn't bother putting sun cream on. This was a mistake. When I left the train, I stepped onto a baking hot sun parched platform and regretted my packing choice. Doh. I also realised that I had left the map on the bed next to the suncream. And so promptly walked out the station in the wrong direction. Going well...
I wandered round on some blacktop hunting for signs I was going in the right way, eventually finding a footpath that should go where I wanted, and headed under the canopy. At this point, I took to hiking much like the Maltese drive, In the shade. My pack seemed heavy, heavier than I had intended it to be. I'd done the maths, the base weight was 6kg, plus food, water, and camera gear. I put the fatigue down to the weather, and pressed on. It's not far, I know my intended camp site was about 3.5 miles from the station. As my gps clocked past 6km, I started to wonder. A group of hikers passing in the opposite direction let me look at their map, and I realised I was still 4km from my intended destination. Doh. Onwards.
A couple of interesting trees along the way:
I stopped twice on the hike there for a drink, and it was at the second stop that I had a wakeup call. I took a swig of drink, looked at the bottles I had with me, looked at the weather, and the rate I was going through it, and thought "oops". With pack on, and in this weather, I am not entirely sure it's possible to carry enough water to hike safely. Not ideal.
Eventually, after my gps said I had done 10k, I arrived at the campsite, 3.5 miles from where I started (since checking the gps trace, this is another case of my gps being silly, on the plus side, I didn't break the sound barrier this time). Aside from exiting the station on the wrong side, I had taken the route I had intended.
The campsite was delightful in it's welcome. I plonked my pack by a fallen tree, sat down and enjoyed the forest. It was good to be back.
So good, the occupants of the forest welcomed my back with an appetite. Swarms of blood sucking insects soon found me. Insect repellent, I knew I meant to pack some. Oops. Ah well, adapt and overcome.
I lit a fire. A Smokey fire. The smoke gently rising and barely dissipating in the slightest whisper of a breeze. The insects disappeared.
The fire:
I took a swig from my bottle. Empty. Just the second bottle to go, 1.25L to last me until I return to civilisation tomorrow. In theory a muddy stream flowed just a dozen yards from my campsite. But in this weather, there was no perceivable flow, and the muddy contents did not look even close to drinkable. Ah well, rationing it is. The fill marks on my new evernew cup proved invaluable here. I had 5 250ml cups of tea left in the bottle. Enough to get me back to civilisation as long as I don't waste it.
Fire check. Water, kinda check. Food next.
I pulled from my bag a few bits and pieces to cook, nothing extravagant. The menu, chicken roasted in red pepper and onion, with rosemary roast potatoes and a gravy. All pretty simple. In one bundle of tin foil went onion, red pepper, thyme, black pepper, olive oil, and a pinch of salt. In the other went potatoes, rosemary, pinch of salt, shot of black pepper, and a squirt of olive oil. Wrap up, stick in the ember bed of the fire, wait an hour, serve.
Step 1, ember bed. This was actually easier than I had expected. The wood burned down to a beautiful ember bed. Parcels of food ready. Cook.
Food parcels:
Ember bed:
With dinner on the go, I set a timer on my phone, and lay down to enjoy the woods.
Dinner cooking:
Dinner was an outstanding success. The chicken so tender that it practically fell apart trying to remove it from the foil parcel. The peppers roasted down beautifully. The spuds, crispy. Yum.
I chased dinner down with a mug of tea (carefully rationed) and put my mind to the next on the list. I'd done fire, water, and food. Next up shelter.
I had carried a basha with me, but the night was so clear and the forecast had no rain in it for days, that I decided to just go with the bivvi bag. I inflated my matt, rolled out the rest of the bedding, and prepared camp for sleep. I had sausages in my bag for the morning, so knew I would want a fire again. Not wanting to mess around in the morning, I piled firewood the night before, stacking it neatly next to the fire, I put my camera tripod up (I had been using it for some long exposures), and hung my food bag from it. Experience had taught me, in the American woods you put the food in a tree to keep it away from bears, in the British woods, you put it off the ground to keep it from slugs. Same principle, slight order of magnitude of snarly creature...
My bed for the night:
By now the sun was set and the camp was quiet. Nothing else to do but perform the bivvi bag wriggle, and lay back and listen to the birds.
The bivvi bag wriggle is the most exhaustive exercise you can possibly do without needing to run up a hill. The principle is simple, get your whole body into the sleeping bag liner, that is inside the sleeping bag, that is inside the bivvi bag, while maintaining the zip on the sleeping bag where you can reach it, the toggle on the sleeping bag liner where you don't lay on it, and the whole lot the right way round so that you don't end up with your face covered. All this is specifically designed to wake you up fully.
Wriggle complete, I lay back, listened to the birds, and realised I needed to pee...
So, out of the bivvi bag, and into the shrubbery, tripping over every fallen tree and branch you can find on the longest route you can take between bed and the tree you intend to use... Then reverse the proceedure finding a whole new set of fallen woodland on the way back, as you have tried to remember where the ones you fell over on the way out are... only to then have to perform the bivvi bag wriggle once again. Thus, with an empty bladder, you can lay next to a tree in the forest wide awake listening to the birds.
*relax*.
The wood I was camping in is a beautiful broadleaf woodland, a fine example of British scenery. So magnificent was it that some other intelligent locals had chosen to sleep there that night. Yep, I'd set up camp in a crow (or other corvid) roost. What better to sing you to sleep than a murder of crows exchanging gossip... I started to wonder if I had in fact wandered onto a Hitchcock film set...
I slept ok at first, but as the night wore on, I woke up a few times, finding I was cold. Before eventually having a fitful slumber and waking with my alarm.
Last night the wood was beautiful. In the light of dawn, it went to whole new levels. Wow. I tried to take some photos but simply could not do it justice. So I set my mind to something much more achievable, breakfast.
The morning's view:
I had two sausages from the butchers that I had intended to cook in the foil with the left over onion and pepper from the night before. All pretty simple. When I tried it, they cooked, all the way through, but the skins had no colour or crispyness to them. So I eventually pulled them out of the foil, and dumped them on the coals. Simpler, if slightly more crunchy.
Breakfast ready for the fire:
Breakfast done, I had my last mug of tea, leaving just enough water in the bottle for a mouthful or so when I got back to the station. Then set to the morning routine. Fire out, pack up kit, break camp (will fix it later. "badum tish!", sorry). I took a photo of where I had camped, and headed off towards civilisation.
Nothing left behind:
On the way back I passed a couple of streams, an a few ponds, cursing that I didn't have with me the equipment to treat the water and make it drinkable. Fortunately I passed some people sat outside a cottage, and they were kind enough to refill my bottles for me. I drank a litre of water on the way back to the station, where upon I got a bottle of coke. Another pint of squash when I got home, and between the 2L, I was feeling properly hydrated.
One of the next BCUK Kent group events is going to be about lowland water sources, how to find, choose, and treat them. I don't want to be in this situation again.
All in all I walked about 8km each day, with 16kg on the way out, and 13kg on the way back. All packed into my 32L backpack. (Will discuss some kit related thoughts in another thread in the kit chatter section).
Water, suncream and insect repellent aside. The trip was a success. All went to plan, no rescue was needed, no sound barrier broken.
Am looking forward to getting out again.
Julia
