Well less than a week after my last post and I've been out again. What prompted it was a very, very rash decision - on Wednesday I took the plunge and bought my dream tent, arguably amongst the best one man tents money can buy - the Hilleberg Soulo. In tent terms, it's an Aston Martin, it's hard to get posher. Or more expensive...
I really can't afford it and will be paying the debt off for months, but I hope it will be worth it. It means I'm ready for most of what the UK weather can throw at me in terms of a shelter, and can go on the sort of trips that Rich Dytch goes on with minimal faff - hopefully with the man himself before too long (it is now 6 months since my first wild camp with him).
I also spent all Tuesday evening de-wintering the Vespa, and giving her a good clean. Filled with the joys of spring, I rode out to a place in The Peak less than an hour away on Wednesday evening for a recce of a potential spot, based mainly on a couple of Youtube vids from wild camping legend Dean Read (check out his Youtube channel if you haven't already). I liked the idea of going straight from work, on Friday. especially as the spell of fine weather was not set to last past Saturday morning.
The recce was very successful, the tent itself arrived next day, and I was packed up and ready to go on Friday, looking at the weather out of the window, itching to get off when 4pm arrived.
I decided to make more of an effort with video, rather than mainly taking photos for once. The result is a 22 minute Youtube vid. So, in the spirit of what film critic Mark Kermode calls 'show, don't tell', I'm going to stop writing now and let the pictures tell you all the rest...
Despite some record breaking warmth late Feb, most weekends this year so far have been a camping unfriendly combo of downpours from both the sky and my nostrils. This was quite frustrating as I'd bought some new kit I was dying to test out. However, I did manage a few minor excursions.
A new year's resolution in January had been to write to local (walking distance) landowners to see if they would grant permission for me to camp on a suitable piece of their land. This begging letter had to be pitched ('scuse the pun) just right to reassure them that I meant no harm, I was a fine upstanding member of the community (*cough*) and that I would promise to use their property respectfully and discretely. I also offered cash, or a gift, or a donation to charity, or even manual labour by way of thanks.
Of about ten inquiries, I got replies from three. One very politely said no way (for livestock and insurance reasons); another said no but put me in touch with a friend who had a small field about 10 miles away that I could use for overnight stays; and the third said I could use their wood, but only for day camps. Not a bad start at all.
(I can't give too much away about exact locations here for obvious reasons...)
Feb Half Term - Overnighter with The Son in a Sheepy Field
Early on in February half term there was a spell of decent, mild weather. I had optimistically preempted this during the lead up by acquiring sufficient extra kit to enable someone to join me comfortably - in this case my 13 year old lad, for what would be his first 'wild camp'. You may remember that a nearby campsite experience with him last year had been a complete disaster, and had been the final straw in getting me to vow to only ever camping off grid. That said, the field in question now, near the village of Eccleshall in Staffordshire was a nice, green flat space that felt to all in-tents and purposes like a campsite, just one with no amenities at all, quite a few sheep, and even more sheep shit. I thought it was a good compromise - we had permission, so no law breaking, and it was airy and open rather than wooded or windswept and potentially ominous. Anyway, main thing is he agreed to have a go - which I was happy about.
We were very lazy and got dropped there by the wife in her car. Cheating, I know... Everything was packed in two rucksacks however, as we planned to walk the few miles back into Eccleshall next day. My son had the Ionosphere one man tent, with the big thick winter sleeping bag. It wasn't supposed to go below 5 degrees overnight so he would definitely be cosy. I then had the same tarp setup as my cold Keele woods overnighter earlier in the month, but for a sleep system I got a bit resourceful and layered up. Outermost of these layers was the waterproof bivvy, inside of which was a new Snugpak Jungle Bag, a roomy but very thin summer job (no use below about 12 degrees!) that packs up super small. Inside this was a cheap Eurohike summer bag with a similar rating, which we bought for his Scout camps a couple of years back. Then, as the innermost layer, I had a new Snugpak Thermalon Liner, which is essentially like a big thick t-shirt that envelopes you from toes to neck.
We arrived mid afternoon which was a good job as it took ages to set up, not least due to flinging very copious and very fresh sheep shite away from our chosen spot. But a nice little camp it was, and we stayed up until quite late under cloudy, mild skies around the Honey Stove. We were right by a country lane which wasn't particularly busy, but once or twice cars slowed down to cop a look, as we were fairly visible with our headtorches and lantern. Not the most stealthy spot, but civilised and relaxing. And for once I was far enough from the bloody M6 to hear a bit more of nature over the usual white noise traffic drone of my locale.
When it came to hunker down, my experiment with layers worked - I was perfectly warm enough. I didn't hear a peep from his tent all night either, as he was snug too. In the morning we were greeted by brighter skies and a glorious sunrise. Permission being granted, we could take our time enjoying bacon and egg sandwiches and lounging around way into mid morning, as horseriders clip-clopped by.
A somewhat laborious pack-away (a lot of kit to be folded up etc) and we headed off with still very heavy packs on the hour's walk into the village. We stuck to roads and the last half was a very busy one with no pavement - not great. The stressy walk and achy backs made us very glad to reach the Belgian bar in Eccleshall (more of that later...) where we had a good hour or more waiting for our lift to arrive.
March - New Toys and A New Potential Spot
After months of scouring what seemed like hundreds of acres of local woods for clean, flat, quiet picturesque wild camping spots, I think I finally found one at the end of Feb during a walk after work, during that unprecedented 'heat wave' that had temperatures up in the high teens.
I also splashed out on some of the remaining kit I'd wishlisted. A proper bushcrafting knife; a woodsman's hand hatchet; a bigger, tougher tactical rucksack; a little folding ground table; and not one but two new tarps : a superlight small one ready for lightweight summer bivvy trips, and another 3x3, this time an 'industry standard' DD with more conventional (and flexible) tie out points than my trusty Snugpak. Plus, it came in camo...
A stolen couple of hours after work midweek after St Paddy's day saw me testing the tarp and table out at the near perfect spot I'd found a few weeks back. In little time I had the kind of shelter I'd always struggled with using the Snugpak - high enough to sit under on a chair, extremely windproof, yet still room to stretch out and kip. I sat there with the sun setting between the trees sipping a tot of Irish, and with the Super Worm Moon rising over the horizon too. I was so relaxed and happy I really wanted to stay all night, but alas no sleep kit again. That's definitely on the cards when another sunny evening presents itself. Watch this space!
March 22nd - Back To the Belgians
A couple of days later and I was presented with the gift of an early finish from work on the Friday. Time for another local overnighter. I was torn between the 'perfect' woodland spot I'd found, and the Eccleshall field. In the end the weather decided it, as increasingly overcast skies would mean my dream of a woodland sunset and sleepover wouldn't be quite so perfect. So that had to wait, and instead I trundled off on the Vespa to Eccleshall, alone this time. I arrived at the aforementioned Belgian Bar just after 3. It is called Merckx, after the legendary cyclist.
Merckx is a fantastically cosy and attractive little place owned and run by a great couple called Maria and Ged, who very kindly allowed me to leave the Vespa out back overnight, enabling me to sup a few of my favourite beers in the world (all in proper glasses!), and enjoy their bar and company all the more. Ged is a real raconteur and will sit with customers telling great stories about his cycling and business past, among other things. A thoroughly recommended gaff all round, well worth a visit.
As the beers flowed it was a bind to tear myself away but daylight was waning and I had a 50 minute walk with heavy kit to the field ahead of me, plus quite an extensive set up. So bill paid (not before bagging a bottle of Gulden Draak 9000 electric soup to take out) I strode off on a slightly less perilous alternative route to the one the boy and I had tackled a month previously. The Belgian Beer Scooter made an admirable replacement for the Actual Italian Scooter and I wound my merry way along road and footpath with a heavy pack and a song in my heart. On arriving I was surprised to find an absence of sheep, which had the bonus of a lot less, and a lot dryer, sheepshite, enabling me to swiftly crack on with constructing my most comfortable camp yet.
A blissful evening of fire, food, and tipples ensued. There was a very pleasing, homely feel to the shelter and once I got into my bag around 11pm the cozyness and the glow from the dying fire flickering on the inside of the tarp soon sent me to the land of nod for an unprecedented 7 unbroken hours. No wee-wees in the night! I awoke at dawn a little fuzzy from the beers but also refreshed and raring to go. Scrambled egg and fried smoky Speck ham in the sunshine and lots of coffee all went in to a perfectly relaxed morning.
When it came to pack up, it took me exactly an hour, from getting off my arse to leaving the field trace free - a new record, and not bad given the amount of kit. At last I'm getting a bit better at this bit...
Not in any way a challenging camp - it was familiar and had a distinct lack of adrenaline - but sometimes that's what you need. It was the one I've enjoyed most so far in terms of pure relaxation at the time. Others have been more fulfilling as an accomplishment, and most are more scenic (my first solo overnighter in Wales was both for instance) but this was me spoiling myself.
And of course it would have been rude not to have popped in for one last lunchtime bottle with Ged & Maria at Merckx before scooting home...
Epilogue - The Day Camp
So, what about the other place I mentioned - the one where the farmer had allowed me access during the day? Well I met up with him in Feb and he is an absolutely splendid fellow, even providing an old barbecue to be permanently located in his wood for me and my family to use. So the day after my return from Eccleshall I was out again on foot with my son for a spot of lunch at this gift of a spot.
So despite not going very far, all in all I did very well with these low key local camps in late winter/early spring. I have been very lucky. And I got my son involved - now to work on the daughter and wife!
With the weather improving and the nights drawing out I'm brimming with ideas for future antics this year, near and far. The poor Vespa has been a bit neglected, reliably trudging me to work and back every weekday - so first up is to get her winter coat off and give her a spring clean so she can start playing more of a role in the blog she inspired in the first place.
