Another kit Blog, this time a thermal base layer.

I’m a creature of habit, if something works and works well, it takes something really special to change my decision when it comes to buying kit.  I’ve normally used something in the harshest environment to prove its worth, or know someone or some organisation that have used it and given it the ‘rubber stamp’.

In 1992 I went to Norway with 3 Commando Brigade Royal Marines with kit I was issued, or what the army thought was good enough for that part of the world.  I was cold and wet for the first few weeks but watching the Marines operate in the clothing they had gave me a lesson in life.  The gear they were wearing was really good stuff, Helly Hanson and Berghaus to mention but a few.  It was clear to me,if I was to make things slightly more comfortable for myself I would have to invest in specialist clothing, and keep the issue stuff in my locker.

One bit of kit I saw the ‘Boot Necks’ (Marines) wearing was the Helly Hanson Lifa thermal tops.  This base layer was an absolute must.  I was issued a green cotton thermal number; ok it kept me warm but the sweat was collected like a sponge and in minus temperatures, this sweat got very cold and made life very uncomfortable.  I bought my first Lifa top on my first tour of Norway, I ordered it through a catalogue via the BFPO service and it was with me in weeks (no internet then).  I loved it; the feel was soft and not heavy like a cotton t-shirt.  I did my Arctic Warfare course and it was a life saver.  Days of sky marching with heavy Bergans (massive rucksacs) were a breeze as I was a fit lad back then so I could enjoy the view, instead of worrying about bad gear dragging me down.  The top wicked the sweat away like magic, days out in the field were great and without sounding like a minger, I got away with wearing it for a good 4 days without washing it before it got a bit funky.  The warmth it preserved was second to none, in minus temperatures on an active day, I could just have the top and a wind proof smock and was extremely comfortable.  As for storage, you can screw it up into the size of a tennis ball, it changed my life in the Arctic for the better.

This Christmas I asked for a replacement, yes for the one I bought in 1992, which by the way is still going strong.  I did buy another in the late 90’s, not to replace my first but to have a spare, however, that one did bite the dust in Bosnia in an ironing incident!

I still wear my first one and it is as good as new, it has been to Norway 5 times, 3 weeks in Canada and 2 tours of Bosnia.  I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve washed it in a make shift showers or sinks.  I’ve even had it in the desert for the cold nights and fresh mornings, it is really one of the most universal bits of kit I’ve had.

As I’ve said before, I’m not a kit expert or tester but if that isn’t a good ‘chuck up’ for a decent base layer, I don’t know what is!

Cleveland Way Part 3. Osmotherley to Clay Bank

After a wet day in the Lake District and a good drowning for the majority of the party, we were glad to have a sunny clear day for our next walk out.  So, instead of hitting the A66 we set off down the A19 to continue with our next attack on the Cleveland Way, Osmotherley to Clay Bank.

The number of participants had fallen greatly for this hike in comparison to Place Fell, only the usual four suspects, Dicko, Sue, Kel and me.  After the usual traffic on the A19 we crawled out of a jam just the other side of Stockton, however I had been ‘resting my eyes’ whilst Kel drove and she’d lost sight of Dicko’s Passat in the commotion and when I woke we were well on our way but no sign of our hiking buddies.  My mobile rings and its Dicko enquiring where we were, stating he was on the A172 nearing our destination of Clay Bank whilst we were still blasting down the A19.  We eventually caught up with the others in Stokesley and after a brief micky take in the Co-op car park we were on our way to drop our Aygo off at the view point Clay bank.  At the car park we piled our kit into the Passat hampered by a thin but equally deadly layer of black ice covering the entire area.

We set off for Osmotherley in Dicko’s car and a chance for Kel to show off her new waterproof jacket to the others.  She’d replaced her ‘old’ one after a good drenching on Place Fell where everyone’s waterproofs had been put to the test.  My North Face jacket had stood well against the driving rain/snow on the Ullswater hill with only my over trousers failing me slightly.  My poor wife had basically been soaked through to her knickers, her jacket, which did cost a few bob I might add, might as well as not have been there hence the purchase of yet another expensive piece of kit at Go Outdoors in Penrith.

We arrived in Osmotherley and struggled to park initially which was unusual for this lovely little village on a week day.  We managed to squeeze into a space and began to don our kit and daysacks.  Sue proudly displayed her new daysack and bragged about how much she’d managed to squeeze into it.  I explained that my map pocket was bigger and congratulated Dicko on finding a daysack for his wife that was actually smaller than Kel’s.

We headed north out of the village and the sun was low and bright.  After a quick left turn just as we left the built up area and headed for Chapel Wood Farm, the views were almost immediate stretching eastward.  It’s hard to take photos on this walk because you’re always saying to yourself, “That’s a great view, no that is!”  The path is so definite on this route and it’s very hard to stray.  We headed north again towards South Wood taking the right in the fork at the start of the forest.  As soon as you lose the view to the west the forest clears and the view east opens up across Hither Moor.  On the left as Arncliffe Wood starts you get a wonderful view of a TV station; it sticks out like a pair of dog’s swingers and not the best view of the walk.  The route comes away from the wooded area near Scarth Wood Moor then drop into Clain wood.

The sun was shining bright and the temperature was comfortable as we crossed the track that leads down into Swainby.  We know this gorgeous little village quite well as it’s always were we finish off a good days climbing at Scugdale with a pint and some ‘real’ chips at the pub.  If we don’t retire to the Eden Valley, then Swainby is second on our list so as you can guess we’re both counting down the next ten years.  We pick up the Cleveland Way on the other side of the track and briefly head south east retracing our steps from our Whirl around Whorlton hike two years ago.  After about ‘1 click’ we take a left across a field towards Swine Park and its lovely little beck and its ford and bridge then a weir.  This is a gorgeous little spot that sees its fair share of Snowdrops and other wildlife, and a good place for Dicko to prove even more that his old leather Brashers are better than his fabric Salamons, dry feet!!  As you leave the woods a track up to Hollin Hill is a festival of birdlife, tits (…stop it!), finches, robins, wrens and more Hedge sparrows (heggies) than you can shake a ‘Leki’ at, which all stay with you until the route crosses the back road to Scugdale and the start of a steady incline up hugging the west side of Live Moor Plantation and stunning views left over the flatlands surrounding the area.  Soon the path shoots east and the start of a quick ‘thigh burner’ up though the plantation to the base of Round Hill.

Over the few years we’ve been walking and me been blogging I’ve had to put up with the barrage of jokes and quips from my old mate Dicko about my Yorkshire roots and background.  I know it’s all said in good humor and I take it the way it’s meant.  But from the top of Round Hill and, to be fair, the views from all the routes we’ve done in my beloved county, he cannot fault what he sees.  I mean, after all, he’s from Stanley where you have to make the most of the views before someone nicks ‘em!

As I said the views from the top of Round Hill were amazing and we couldn’t have asked for a clearer day.  We passed an old boy walking the other way nearing the top and again met an example of good old Yorkshire friendliness who stops and has a bit of craic.  We set back off towards the summit with Dicko making the usual jokes about how nice Lancashire people are, Philistine!   Round Hill, Gold Hill and Carlton Moor come and go with again cracking views and the sounds of gunfire in the distance and “Are we nearly there yet?” in the foreground from Sue.  This leg of the CW was quite hilly and I think Sue had set herself up for a flattish walk and was getting a bit flustered by the ‘ups and down’s ‘ presented by this part of the route.  Dicko, the loving hubby that he is likes to ensure his wife there’s only ‘another K left’ giggling as he tucks into his jelly babies….Oooh jelly babies!  The drop down to Lord Stones Café appeared to cheer Sue up slightly; I even think I saw her looking for the car park.  She weren’t too happy when I pointed at the view point at Cringle Moor and told her that’s our next destination.

So, with Sue like a coiled noodle we started up the short but steep accent to the gorgeous views that the top of ‘the Moor’ offers we trudged up a very soggy path.  The wind greeted us with some great views as we quickly headed towards the top of Kirby Bank and some particularly nice looking crags under our feet.  To the south are some lovely looking moorland again, the CW gives way to some great moorland which is one of my favourite terrains.  For some reason I see it like the Falklands for which I have always thought I’d like to visit.  I did have the chance in 1990/91 but decided to freeze my arse off in the Middle East instead sorting tash face Saddam out.  To Sues delight Dicko and I informed her we were on the home stretch and the mood lightened, we carefully negotiated the steep descent from the top of Kirby Bank and set off taking the path between Broughton Bank and the Wainstones, a popular spot for climbers and home of ‘The Steeple and The Needle’.

The main road on Clay Bank was in ear shot and the end of this leg of the Cleveland Way in sight.  There was just a small little descent down to the road where my mate Dicko decided to see how hard the floor was using his arse.  I short squeal from Sue announced to the North Yorkshire moors that her hubby had come up close and personal with the earth.  Everyone within a mile radius turned their head, only us fortunate ones were greeted with a grassy thump and blue air as my mate was helped to his feet by his wife.  Now, you know that feeling when you know you shouldn’t laugh, but due to the amount of injuries acquired by my buddy during our adventures and the fact we’re BOTH not the best side of 40, it’s always a tongue in cheek affair on the rare occasion we become ‘one’ with the land.  He got to his feet quickly and immediately and announced he was ok, thank god for that, now I can laugh!

I giggled to myself as we joined the road and turned left toward the car park and the awaiting Aygo and the sight of my limping mate you disclosed the fall had given him some grief after all to his repairing fractured ankle.

My guilt for laughing at my mate was short lived as we joked in the car on route back to Osmotherley to retrieve the dubiously parked Passat.  Yet another leg of the Cleveland Way complete’ and yet another walk without event.  After all, what would I blog about if it wasn’t for someone’s mishap!

 

Got my new boots, RIP my Merrells!

It’s a rare day I actually get chance to update my kit, the limited funds I have normally get spent on Kel updating her walking gear, after all you can’t have enough pink and purple base layers cos you never know when you might need them!

However, if you read my previous blog, boots were on my list and after researching and researching I’d narrowed it down to Scarpa or Brasher, and it would be down to the actual ‘trying on’!

So a visit to Go Outdoors in Stockton was planned to see if I could choose.  First we had to get passed the bin of all the reduced tents near the door, grrr damn those tent bins.  We have had a bit of trouble with our base camp (sounds a bit Everesty that dunt it!?) tent after a soaking earlier this year.  But that’s all water under the bridge, and through the seams, and through the zips!  Anyway after inspecting a few of the tents in the bin, we decided again we’re having a new one, but that’s a different story, back to my boots.

The problem with Go Outdoors is they put all the base layers and fleeces on routé to the boots and trying to get Kel past all that kit is frustrating, Jesus Christ woman you own all the base layers under the sun, I want my boots!!  At last we’re at the footwear dept and we got immediate attention and before I knew it, I had Brasher Fell Masters, Scarpa Terra GTX and a pair of Berghaus the assistant suggested I try.  I’m no kit expert, I don’t pick the most expensive bit of clothing because it’s one of the top names, and I get what I like (as long as it’s green that is).  I had a look at the Berghaus and to be fair they were quite comfy, well the right foot one was, the assistant couldn’t find the left.  So Berghaus was out for that reason.  I tried the Brasher’s on and they looked the part, walked well and the leather was very soft.  I have big feet, well size 11 with a good instep and ‘piano toes’, they’re not fat feet by any stretch of the imagination.  The ends of the Brasher’s were very roomy and I could wiggle my toes a lot, which I could foresee a few problems on steep descents.  So I tried the Scarpa’s on, very nice, fitted well and the leather was very soft.  Kel swears by hers and I had to take that into consideration as she’s a fussy one.  The Scarpa’s had it!

My first ever Scarpa product was in the bag and I was happy.  In the early 90’s I’d spent many a winter with the marines in Norway for winter warfare training and those boys knew their stuff on the kit front.  The ML’s were very experienced with mountain life and to sit and listen to those guys go on about kit was very interesting.  They used to go mad for Scarpa kit and even a certain element of the group, which I cannot talk about, raved for the make, that’ll do for me!

On route to the tent section I managed to convince Kel we needed a new shelter for my daysack.  I’d been carrying my old army poncho as a shelter, which would easily do the job if called upon but it weighed more than I had wanted.  The new one is a 3 man bright orange dome with windows and draw cords to keep in the warmth, and weighed next to nothing.

The drive home was good knowing I’d get a chance to try out my new boots next weekend as we’re planning a walk in the lakes, plus the weather looked testing so straight in at the deep end for the Scarpa’s, let’s hope the shelters not needed.

I have mentioned a couple of brands of kit in this blog and I have to say, sometimes it’s not the make that determines my decisions on buying kit, it’s just my taste.  I have Berghaus base layers that are excellent and have used for years, plus throughout my army career all I’ve ever used is Berghaus bergans.  I use Brasher socks that are great and continue to buy when I can.

Newton Aycliffe climbing wall

On Sunday we managed to get to the climbing wall at Newton Aycliffe.  Rock Antics is situated in the leisure centre at NA.  It’s got numerous walls and a variety of grades from easy to ‘never could i climb that in a life time’.  There are also a few bouldering ‘problems’ which also range from easy to rock hard.  The staffing levels seem to change like the weather which means you don’t know who’s climbing or supervising but everyone has a giggle.  Kelly and me normally potter about on the bouldering wall as I’m actually afraid of heights inside the climbing wall but OK outdoors climbing, weird but true.  Anyway, Kelly’s recovering from a bad back so she decided to just get back into it with a bit of bouldering and belaying me on the climbing wall.  I’m not Adam Ondra by any stretch of the imagination but i love the climb.  Kelly is a lot better than me but i don’t usually admit it, neither does she but she does know it (bless her).  She has good arms and a light body, ideal for climbing, probably would have done well if she’d had kept it up but circumstances meant she didn’t carry it on after learning in the church brigade.  I did a bit in the army but as you’re never in one place for more than 6 months it’s hard to keep anything going where you need certain requirements.  I spent 6 months in Saudi in 1991 after the war had finished and had ample time time to climb in the Wadi’s (dried river beds) which was quite exciting.  But all things come to an end and had no chance when i got back.