The memorial to “Fanny Mercer, accidentally killed 1887”

Looking back over Buttermere

Up onto the ridge

Looking back to Buttermere

The summit of Fleetwith Pike

Innominate Tarn in threatening weather

Descending Haystacks to Scarth Gap in a howling gale

Descending Scarth Gap Pass

A Herdwick with a new hairdo

Fleetwith and Haystacks from Peggy’s Bridge

View NW from Peggy’s Bridge: Buttermere, Melbreak, Rannerdale Knotts

The walk following this route (in hindsight… we just set off up the hill!) http://www.walkingbritain.co.uk/walk-1289-print 

and is on this area of OS mapping: https://www.bing.com/mapspreview?&cp=54.517514~-3.245501&lvl=15&style=s&v=2&sV=2&form=S00027

Lessons learned, it was much easier this time, though still pretty tricky and some bits seemed warped with age (know the feeling). We looked at photos of other assembled RZ85s on the internet to work out how the gunwale bits went together (not easily!), and had to make do without a couple of nuts. Here’s the finished article, after about an hour of building:

Now there’s not much water in our garden, so the next step was to lug the thing to the river at the Prom, where Lois assured me there was a purpose-built entry ramp for canoes. The thing felt quite manageable for the first thirty feet or so, but then became surprisingly heavy and awkward, so lots of rests were called for. Tim Cronin zoomed past on a mountain bike, one eyebrow distinctly raised, while we contemplated crossing the road.

We made it to the Prom, chucked the thing in the river, and watched intently to see whether water came pouring in. It didn’t. Then we put a Lois into it, and I watched for a while longer – still no water, so I added my substantial self, and since all seemed well we paddled off upstream.

We only had one and a half double paddles, as one had a split thingie, so Lois took the half, being more used to Canadian canoeing.

We went as far as Forest Beach the first time, and chickened out at the rough water and barely-submerged rocks, as Lois thought it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun if we made a hole in the bottom hull.

We’d also noticed that some bits of the frame weren’t as correctly assembled as we had thought, which we couldn’t fix from the inside. So we hurtled back to the Prom (the thing is really quite nippy with two people paddling, and this was downstream), got it onto the bank, and pummelled it into submission. Then back into the river for a tour of the weir and back up to Forest Beach, where this time we braved the rapids and made it through, only to be truly defeated by major obstacles a bit further up. Must try again when the water is higher.

Anyway here we are back again at the Prom, eagerly looking forward to the uphill lugging back home. We need a trolley!

It was a fun expedition, but the logistics of the unpacking, construction, moving and vice versa are a chore, so I’m not sure how much use it will get in Brecon. It wants a camping holiday by a lake, with lots of other things to do for the people who aren’t in the canoe.

Notes about the Pouch RZ85

Some history of Pouch http://www.pouchboats.com/background.html

And a truly amazing steam-powered version

http://www.faltbootbasteln.de/fbb-dampf-faltboot.html

We have set Lois, Helen and Robin a challenge; they must produce the following items on Sunday 30th August:

1. A piece of sandstone
2. The Dean's signature
3. A recording (home made) of Mendelssohn's Lift Thine Eyes
4. A fig leaf
5. A violet ground beetle (dead or alive)
6. A ball bearing
7. A hat that has been worn by a policeman/woman
8. Some sea water
9. A fossil
10. A floppy disk
11. A cheese soufflé
12. A personal possession that has spent a night in Brecon Cathedral

The provenance of each item must be declared, and may be an individual or collective effort. Points will be awarded to each team member according to the ancient rites and lores, taking into account the qualities of the items and stories. And as we all know: points mean prizes.

It's got a wooden frame, plus a **** load of thick canvas stuff which eventually (after a life-ending family row) can, hypothetically, be re-combobulated to make a mahoosive (I'm told this is the word) canoe for two.

Knowing no better, my preconception of what a collapsible canoe might be like was along these lines:

Yesterday the sun came out, so we decided to see whether we could do the re-combobulation while avoiding the family row.

The two massive sacks disgorged about 40 bits of wood of various shapes and sizes, paddles, various nuts, straps and buckles, the aforementioned canvas, an old nappy, and some monstrous spiders.

No instructions.

I’d previously been led to believe the beast was a “Klepper” so it was surprising to find a “Pouch” logo emblazoned on the canvas and on a little pennant thing. A quick google revealed that Pouch were/are indeed a manufacturer of canoes (subsequent research suggests that this RZ-85 is the modern equivalent of our thing, ours being an RZ-85/3).

We found an incredibly basic set of instructions here http://www.pouchboats.com/usingrz96.html though at that stage we had no idea whether it was for a model similar to ours. Reassuringly, the page began:

 We will provide at this point a link to the complete, fully detailed and illustrated assembly instructions in due course.

Not being boaty types, we hadn’t a clue what keelsons and sponsons and suchlike were, so we looked for clues amongst the materials provided. We found bits with numbers on, some too faded to read, bits with R, L, H and V on (right, left, back and front?), lots of bits that vaguely fitted together, and after an hour or so we thought we were on track:

Oh, how wrong we were! At this stage we didn’t even have the ends of the frame correctly assembled, as can be seen from the carcass on the grass behind – missing the stern “blade” thing. Here we are some time later with that aspect sorted:

But things were still sadly amiss – here we are discovering that we have 8 inches of overlap in the middle of the boat, with no means of making the boat any longer to get rid of it – we found we could engage the gunwhale on one side or the other, but certainly not both.

The key, as all Pouch-owners will know, was that ladder thing lying on the grass behind, which corresponded to “the two central keelson sections” in those instructions we found. Once we had realised its significance, removed all the central U-sections, and done the necessary to engage it into position, the hull was now stretched to length and everything else fell into place easily:

Actually not quite – we had a little rotation of the frame within the skin, we didn’t finish off the edges of the cockpit, forgot to fit the seat backs, and we couldn’t work out what we should have used the little grey straps for – but this was proof of concept only: i.e. could it be assembled without causing wives and children to leave home? And were we going to keep this thing, or give it to the girl guides or perhaps our worst enemies? Well, assembly wouldn’t be too bad with instructions and the benefit of experience, but there were certainly moments when we nearly gave up. I’ve advised Lois to put on her CV “successfully assembled 30-year-old collapsible canoe, without arguments”.

Lois and I then tested whether it was readily portable, as we might lug it down to the Usk for real use next time.

And we proved it could keep out grass. I’m less certain whether it will keep out water, as it’s been in a bag for 30 years and also has some scuffs and scrapes on the rubbery bit.

And here’s one of our photographer Hel’s arty shots of us engaged in battle, with a setting sun behind:

Then, as dusk drew in, I took it all to bits again, cajoled all the bits back into the two massive bags, and gave it back to the spiders in the shed.

I’ve broken the full route into 13 legs with a pair on each leg.  Stewart Bellamy and I are doing three legs - about half the route overall - the first leg from Herbert’s Quarry to the Black Mountain ridge, the main Brecon Beacons hills from Fan Llia to Allt Llwyd (in the dark!), and the last leg along Offa’s Dyke path to Llanthony Priory.

I’ve not been out to the Western end of the route since we last did the Traverse in 2004, and needed to check my estimated timings for this section, so I took advantage of the fantastic weather this weekend to take the family over there and recce the route.

It’s an amazing drive; not long after turning left in Trecastle views of the Black Mountain ridge start to break the skies over the forestry, then reveal their full striking form when you clear the trees to cross the moorland. I wish I’d stopped to take a photo – maybe next time. Then down the wiggly lanes to Twynllanan, on to the A4069, and climb the hairpins to the quarries. The family dropped me off and headed back to Llandeusant and the car parking area below Llyn y Fan Fach, where much fun can be had in the stream.

I’d had a hard run at the Cwmdu Race the day before, so set off very cautiously from the quarry car park in sunshine and a chilly wind. The first summit of Garreg Lywd was reached in 11 minutes, the second (Foel Fraith) in another 12. I love this area – completely deserted, good underfoot, skylarks larking about, limestone, what more could anyone want…

I then took a rubbish line across to Garreg Las, dropping a bit too far South, but there’s not much choice once on the ridge, and it’s a case of picking a line through the limestone boulders ‘til you reach the prehistoric Carnau’r Garreg Las, seen here behind a very sweaty me…

I forgot to take my split time here, in my excitement at tripping over the endless boulders (and beginning to revise my declared love for this area!). But it’s soon back onto the grass as you swoop North and then ENE to cross the swampy ground before the final climb to Bannau Sir Gaer. Here I am halfway to the sky…

and finally reaching the end of the leg in 1 hour and 08 minutes, bang on my estimate for the leg. Here’s a shot from the changeover point looking East along the main escarpment towards Picws Du and Fan Brycheiniog:

I jogged back down the track by Llyn y Fan Fach to meet the others, who were having fun in the stream as predicted (Robin had found a raft fashioned from twigs and string).

I was carrying our “SPOT” live location tracker, which we will be using during the event to show our location in real time. This does work, but there are some disappointing aspects. For example the position is only recorded every ten minutes (and in practice often not even this often), leading to a massively approximated result (there could be nearly two miles between sample points on downhill sections for a runner). The GPS locations are very inaccurate, often up to 100m off the correct location. The embedding script they supply to allow you to show the location map within your own website uses the old deprecated Google Maps v2 API, and seems to have trouble keeping up-to-date with the readings on the SPOT server. It just feel like it all needs a little work to bring it up to date, but overall it’s worthwhile kit to show supporters and participants where we are on the route at all times.

Robin became Stupid Death from the Horrible Histories.

And here’s the both of them…

Naomi had a good run, beating Sharon and various Chepstow lasses.

Now the strings: Lois found out yesterday she got a distinction in her cello grade 5 exam. Much surprise and joy.

Here’s the kitchen after lifting the lino to reveal the slime and mould…

I removed the whole lot, along with most of the skin on my knuckles.  The quarry tile floor is in good nick, and we think we’ll leave that in situ.

We’re not so sure about the range – a “Chatton Special” from the 1930’s (we think). It’s lovely, but has a little damage and rust and may not be recoverable. We’ll take advice on this, but I hope we can keep it (losing the fireplace, which is not so lovely).

We have inherited a fine range of derelict sheds. The most heavy-duty of these was integrated into the house structure via some Heath Robinson carpentry and excessive use of roofing felt. Here’s a part of it being dismembered – note the use of the tin can as roof support, among all the other random craps.

This shed was all pretty weird - very solidly built, but not high enough to stand up in. Two small child’s bells, endless hooks and pieces up string tied between them, net curtains, and a secret compartment under the floorboards, which, instead of the anticipated treasure, contained endless takeaway trays, margarine tubs, rusty pots and pans, half an old fireplace, and a Gollywog jam jar.  I’ve removed the rotten front wall and the bit that joined the house, and it now a rather nice kind of gazebo or perhaps log store. But OMG the spiders!

Another liability we have taken on is the collapsing boundary wall, which has been threatening to come down into the lane for months. We decided to take down the top half, reducing the risk of overall collapse, loss of limbs, children, cars etc.

Inside, we’ve removed all the horrid carpets and lino, and started stripping walls. Here’s the runner up to the top floor, about to go.

The garden is horrific, apart from the lawn area which has been maintained in reasonable nick. The rest appears to have been used as an intensive ivy farm combined with kitchen midden.

In amongst this are all kinds of wonders, bit of wire fence, broken glass, rusty buckets, a ruined greenhouse, brambles, more margarine tubs, etc etc. But also some rhubarb plants that are producing lovely red shoots.

The kids helped rediscover the back gate, which was buried in years of ivy. Here it is actually opening.

Robin helped with the bonfires, and we must have burned a couple of tons of scrub.

The electrician (Jeremy) arrived this evening and managed to get the lights back on, plus a few sockets, so the hoovering and lawn-mowing can soon commence.

Here’s me after a day of filling, scraping, lifting, sweeping, and general skirmishing with grime and dereliction.

We have now over-filled a skip, and we are pretty pooped.

Naomi

Lois

Helen

Robin

Crispin

On the hill, Mackenzie led the way, while Poj guarded the rear. Summit mince pies and tablet went down well. We all got pretty damp, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

The leaders at the summit…

Joined by others… and more rain…

“I’m not as daft as I look you know…”

Helen, Bobs and Naomi

All of us with the tree

Windy walk up the Crug with Mike, Sally and Tony

Christmas dinner

Robin sorting out the Hotwheels, and still in pyjamas at lunchtime

Lois and Helen rehearsing for the concert (Mae Hen…)

		A blustery walk up Pen y Fan VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

High winds, high hills, and high dudgeon from Helen.

Amphitheatre effect… on the race route descent we were whispering to each other over distances of about 200m – incredible.

At Cwm Llwch we met an elderly German couple who had come the wrong way down – and were about to try to walk round the hill to Storey Arms (with no map or compass). We gave them a lift as darkness gathered.