Showing posts with label tourer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tourer. Show all posts

April 2025 Packing conundrum and trial camping

So here is the conundrum. How do I get all this?..


Into these….


And on to this…


Our Way of the Roses trip starts and ends with a train journey for five plus 5 bikes and as yet, most train companies aren't very forthcoming with cycle spaces. Our local trains are great - hardly a word is spoken when you are standing by a door and there are only a few stops to your destination. But the longer distance ones modeled on aeroplanes have allocated a cupboard which hardly fits any bike at all. Let alone the two that are supposedly meant to hang there and need to be booked way in advance. 

So I’ve opted to take the Brompton as I should be able to squeeze it into the luggage rack. But for this to be workable, the bags need to easily come off and be carryable. The front one is designed precisely for this scenario. The back rack? Not so much. 


My first job is to gather my gear together. Tick. 
The second is apparently having to convince the cat that she is not coming too. 

Both of those jobs done and its now a case of working out what is best to go where. I've decided that a system is what I need. So cooker, food and anything I may need instant access to in the front bag. Everything else in the back. Sounds like a plan. 

An hour later, and it is mostly packed, apart from a small pile of bits that I'm hoping I don't really need. 

Next comes the trial and errors of attaching the back bags - firstly to each other then to the bike. The front back slips neatly onto the carrier that is perfectly designed for the job. 



Having worked out a cunning way to join the bags together, I then needed to work out how to keep them in place on the bike. 



My first try was ok but very wobbly. The second attempt was much more stable. Moving the bottom clips further forward and adding a set to the saddle made everything much more sturdy. 



And the bonus is that when the bag is removed, all that is left is a couple of clips which won't stop a quick fold. 



It was time for a test ride. So I headed off for a loop of the common. 


All seemed fine till I passed a set of boys walking in the same direction. They kindly moved out of the way to let me through after a polite ring of the bell. 
“You’re carrying a lot of weight” called one of the lads, who was instantly slammed down by the others with cries of “You can't say that!” This was just as quickly followed by protests of “The bags, I mean the bags” He was right of course! 

I headed home happy that test phase one was complete. Lets hope I could remember what I’d done when it came to a real camp. 

Test phase two, aka ‘The proof of the pudding’ came round soon enough. Taking advantage of unusually good weather during the Easter holiday, Jo and I set off to a fairly local (to her) campsite for our first camp of the year. Jill would be joining us en route too. 


Not wanting to overcomplicate things with the train, I loaded up the car and drove to Winchester. It was a good opportunity to practice train mode. All was fine till the Brompton bag started to slip off my shoulders.



But I had a firm grip on Iona, all was well. I set up the bike and added the load. Everything was really easy to connect and the bags felt as solid as a rock.


Once ready, we headed out to Crawley pond for a quick drink stop/photo opportunity. 
I was already impressed with how easy everything felt. No shaking or wobbling and it really didn't feel any different to riding to school. 



We dragged ourselves away from our pondside sunbathing and headed onward. While climbing Windmill Hill Lane I snapped a photo or two of Jo who was riding in front, not knowing that she had already done the same. Our set up was unsurprisingly similar. She has spent a couple of years honing her Brompton camping technique and was more than happy to give advice when requested. 



My next lesson will be how to take amazing selfies!


Reaching Leckford, we decided to try a little off-roading, following the cycle route to the right of the busy main road. Iona passed the gravel test with flying colours and even managed the steep gravel slope back onto the road. We stopped, as we often do, at the point where The Bunny (that's the road name) passes the Test (the river’s name). 







It was busy with traffic so fearing that they may run out of cheese scones, we headed up to the big Waitrose farm shop at Leckford. We spotted Jill as we rounded the corner. She had been busy chatting to some tandem riding tourers while she waited for us to arrive. We parked our bikes in view of the tables then went to order our lunch. 


We were so engrossed with catching up that no-one took a photo of us all together. And I'd nearly finished my scone before considering capturing that for posterity. It was a very nice leek and potato soup in case you were wondering. 


We chatted for ages, knowing that the campsite was only a few miles away, but finally felt we may have outstayed our welcome (they came to clear our table), so we collected our bikes and headed out. 






We arrived at the campsite in brilliant sunshine and bumped into a friendly chap who explained which side of the enormous field would be a better bet. A quick cycle round the field (no, of course I wasn't trying to round up to 15 miles on my Garmin) confirmed that he was correct and our pitch was chosen. 

It took longer than I care to admit, to remember how to pitch the Palace, but once the bones were up, the smile on my face was back. My fabric home for the night was ready. 


Everyone else was already done and making a cuppa by the time I was finished. But I didn't mind. I was happy pottering. 


Jo had pinched Lc for a photoshoot in a mascot sized patch of daisies with Dora and Tulip. We sat birdwatching, reading and chatting, enjoying a beautiful sunny afternoon. 

Was that a swallow? Yes I think it was. Yup there's another. Oh and some wagtails, and a kite. I had plenty of practice using my monocular.  


I gathered some bits together and started to make dinner. You can't beat home grown broccoli and (not so) wild garlic picked fresh from the allotment just before I left home. The pasta came out of a packet this time, but still tasted good. 



Dinner was followed by the now legendary Eccles cakes in custart for desert. 


The rapid change in temperature indicated that sunset was near but so were our jackets, so we sat back to enjoy the view. 



The sun gone, the fire lit, it was time for a glass of wine (or coffee depending on preference) Cheers!


I grabbed my trusty blanket and apparently took on the guise of a phantom. The photos don't really indicate the rapidly failing light. 





We were about to head to bed as the embers were no longer keeping us warm. A deep throated bark emminated from the hedge beside us. Narrowly escaping jumping into the fire pit with shock I had visions of a huge angry Alsatian heading towards us. Jo assured me that it was just a deer. She reminded me of her first wild camp when that happened to her alone - I would have left for home there and then if that had happened to me. I don't think I would have even packed up. What a noise!

Teeth cleaned and bed made, I snuggled into my sleeping bag, hoping the two mini hot water bottles that I had just filled would keep me warm through the night. I could hear that the others were already settled so I plugged into my audiobook and didn't hear the timer switch it off. 

The bladder was calling by 2am, I was cold and I wasn't keen to leave my warm bed, but I took the chilly walk across to the toilet block. I had the presence of mind to take my now cold bottles with me and fill them with the hot water from the tap. This wasn't as hot as a kettle, but was better than waiting for one to boil. I headed back to bed now with every layer of my clothing on and hoped I would get back to sleep. 


Another bladder call at 6am revealed why I was just so darn cold. The grass crackled under my feet and the tent glistened in the breaking light. With two reheated bottles and my head snuggled right inside my sleeping bag, I fell back to sleep listening to the glorious morning chorus. 




I woke to hear the others, glad I had managed a couple more hours. ‘I’m not coming out till the frost is all gone’ I shouted. I was assured that it had. I wasn't taking any chances so grabbed my blanket once more and, with breakfast stuff in hand, I made my way to where the others were sitting. 
I couldn't see any phantoms! 


It was a freshly boiled egg wrap for breakfast. I had boiled all 6 as I wasn't keen to travel with raw ones. Jo had a couple and I packed the rest.  


The sun was shining and though it wasn't as warm as the day before, the temperature was definitely rising. By the time the palace was away and the only trace of our camp was a couple of patches of flattened grass, I was down to a T-shirt. 


There was nothing to lean the bikes to near our pitch, so we both went into semi train mode, clipping the front bag on while carrying the rear on our backs.

Jill had the same issue, she had already moved her gear over there and was now just heading back for her bike. We followed her lead. 

Jo sensibly walked across the field. I was a little behind, so decided to try riding it. It worked, just!



The site manager chatted to us before we left and offered to take our photograph after watching us try to work out a selfie. 


We were ready to make our way back. We had carefully planned our route so that we could all ride together for as long as possible before Jill had to head back towards Andover. When I say ‘we’ I really mean Jo and Jill. I just nodded in the right places in the hopes it looked like I knew where they were talking about. But they hadn't mentioned too many hills and they did talk about a tea shop so I was happy with the route. 

Just as we turned on to the main road, a deer ran towards us before finding a gap in the hedge and bounding in. I wonder if that's who was barking at us last night? 


It didn't take long to ride the few miles to Chilbolton. Our attention easily drawn to a beautiful buzzard soaring on the thermals against the cloudless blue sky. I could have watched it all day. 
The views were stunning. I had to keep reminding myself to keep looking for potholes and cars! Thankfully the roads were pretty quiet. 
We reached our gem of a first stop. Orders were taken and while we waited, something reminded us of Jenny, not sure what ;)


My second delicious cheese scone of the trip arrived along with a very strong cup of coffee. We ate and chatted as if we had only just met up. How can there always be so much to talk about? 


Back on the move, we had a long climb ahead of us. I remembered it from my very first cycle tour. If I could manage then, I was sure I could do it now. In fact it felt so much easier on the Brompton than it had that first time. A later look at stats confirms this. 


We stopped at the trig point, Jill helped me to orientate myself in relation to the map I was viewing. We were trying to locate a plume of smoke we had been watching as we travelled. Jill pointed out the route of the A303 and where the local villages were, but we still couldn't quite work out where the chimney was. 



Just as we were about to set off, as if by magic, a random man appeared from nowhere and asked if we wanted him to take a photo for us. He disappeared just as quickly.  I wonder if he knew Mr Benn? 


All too soon we were saying goodbye to Jill as she headed north back to the Chutes and we headed east on familiar roads towards Barton Stacey. We stopped on a bridge after spying a heron lift herself from her hidden fishing perch, fly alongside us then double back along the river. She obviously wasn't keen to have her photo taken. 


Then in a flash, we were back at Stoke Charity to gaze at the stream and spot a small trout gathering food for the evening. There was a new swan on the block too. She was full grown, yet still young enough to have some brown feathers. Is this a new partner for the resident male or is she just passing through. I am sure I will be back to see at some point. 



5 miles left which was so filled with chat about gear and future camping opportunities that we were home before we knew it. 

Bags were removed and Iona neatly folded back into the boot of the car. Test phase two well and truly done. Mission successfully completed. 


As always, a huge Thank you to Jo and Jill for your lovely company and to Babs and Jenny for cheering us on from the virtual sidelines. 

Now I am really looking forward to our big Way of the Roses challenge. 

Further Information - 
Day 1 Winchester to campsite - 15 miles
Day 2 Campsite to Winchester - 16 miles 
Campsite - Rowbury Farm camping
Backpacker rates £11.70
Logs £7.50

Links
 


















April 2025 Packing conundrum and trial camping

So here is the conundrum. How do I get all this?.. Into these…. And on to this… Our Way of the Roses trip starts and ends with a train journ...