Kernow

Summer holidays came early this year, in the form of a group trip to Cornwall. We made the most of the sunshine on the first day, and headed to the harbour at Mullion Cove.

Awesome Specialized balance bike. © Haydn Williams 2013

Awesome Specialized balance bike. © Haydn Williams 2013

We arrived at low tide and so were able to explore the cave that cuts under the headland. Unfortunately no-one provided any entertainment by falling into the water.

Gareth avoiding the big puddle in the cave at Mullion Cove. © Haydn Williams 2013

Gareth avoiding the big puddle in the cave at Mullion Cove. © Haydn Williams 2013

The good weather continued over the next couple of days, and we got to explore some non-seaside areas of Cornwall too.

It's not all beaches. © Haydn Williams 2013

It's not all beaches. © Haydn Williams 2013

You can just about see Gareth running across Stithians Dam. © Haydn Williams 2013

You can just about see Gareth running across Stithians Dam. © Haydn Williams 2013

Paul managed to add some excitement to the trip by falling over and breaking his arm, but still managed to clamber around rockpools etc. with aplomb.

Paul after his accident.

Paul after his accident.

As expected from a Cornish holiday there was a lot more beachy action, including a trip to Perranporth where we bumped into our next-door neighbours!

Caesar enjoying Nansidwell beach. © Haydn Williams 2013

Caesar enjoying Nansidwell beach. © Haydn Williams 2013

By mid-week the weather was turning, and we took a trip to St. Michael's Mount. Walking out along the causeway was fine, but by the time we were ready for the return journey the rain had set in and even managed to obscure the top of the mount itself.

Saint Michael's Mount in reasonable weather. © Haydn Williams 2013

Saint Michael's Mount in reasonable weather. © Haydn Williams 2013

Saint Michael's Mount after the rain has blown in. © Haydn Williams 2013

Saint Michael's Mount after the rain has blown in. © Haydn Williams 2013

That rain proved to be the start of a big storm blowing in from the Atlantic, resulting in big swells before our scheduled coasteering trip. The company running it phoned to say that we'd have to change to a more sheltered location, but that it was otherwise going ahead as planned. On arrival at Newquay the wind was blowing massive waves onto the rocks, and lifting sand off the beach to blast the paintwork on our cars.

Seems like the perfect place for coasteering. © Haydn Williams 2013

Seems like the perfect place for coasteering. © Haydn Williams 2013

The "sheltered" side of the headland looked little better, so while other members of the group geared up anyway I bowed out through a desire not to die.

Seems like perfect conditions for coasteering. © Haydn Williams 2013

Seems like perfect conditions for coasteering. © Haydn Williams 2013

The safety briefing was given and they moved to the first jumping-in point. This was quickly deemed too dangerous, so they moved to the second. Which was also deemed too dangerous. So they moved onto the third. At which point the instructors called the whole thing off.

Abort abort abort! © Haydn Williams 2013

Abort abort abort! © Haydn Williams 2013

With the worst of the weather out of the way, we returned to Fistral Beach in more clement conditions the next day and Caesar made good use of the exposed sand.

Fistral beach - plenty of space for running around. © Haydn Williams 2013

Fistral beach – plenty of space for running around. © Haydn Williams 2013

The trip home was punctuated by a detour for a walk past the Hurlers and on to the Cheeswring on Bodmin Moor.

Atop Stowes Hill on Bodmin Moor, having visited the Cheesewring. © Haydn Williams 2013

Atop Stowes Hill on Bodmin Moor, having visited the Cheesewring. © Haydn Williams 2013

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Highlander Mountain Marathon 2013

Having done a couple of LAMMs and an OMM without suffering complete disaster, Greg and I took on this year's Highlander Mountain Marathon in Laggan. That makes it sound rather confrontational, but it was actually a very friendly event with some great running (and a lot of hard work).

Not a bad start to the weekend. © Haydn Williams 2013

Not a bad start to the weekend. © Haydn Williams 2013

At the grand old age of 31, I didn't fancy camping the night before and so we passed the night in relative luxury in a hotel. I'm not sure whether that's sacrilege on an MM weekend, but it definitely makes life easier. The forecast was reasonable and blue sky abounded as we reached the start field on saturday morning.

Queuing up at the start. © Haydn Williams 2013

Queuing up at the start. © Haydn Williams 2013

A nice bus trip took us to the shores of Loch Laggan, where we had a clear view of the still quite comprehensive snow cover from around 800m. We started the day in high spirits, and they only got higher as we moved up the Allt Coire Ardair to the lochan via two controls. With our recent Snowdonia jaunt proving its worth we then climbed the snow slope out of the back of the cwm.

All smiles as we climb away from Loch Laggan. © Haydn Williams 2013

All smiles as we climb away from Loch Laggan. © Haydn Williams 2013

From our high point of Stob Poite Coire Ardair we flew down good snow to pick up the second half of the day's controls. I started suffering at this point, losing pace and generally feeling quite sick (something which doesn't normally afflict me even if I'm really pushing). By the final checkpoint, around 3km from mid-camp, I was about ready to give up and was really only carrying on for Greg's sake. I crawled to the finish and promptly spent the rest of the evening being violently ill.

All mountain marathons should be like this. Heading in to Coire Ardair. © Haydn Williams 2013

All mountain marathons should be like this. Heading in to Coire Ardair. © Haydn Williams 2013

Watching our footing on the way up to The Window. © Haydn Williams 2013

Watching our footing on the way up to The Window. © Haydn Williams 2013

With the tummy bug identified as the cause of my slow pace, we enjoyed the warm, dry and sociable atmosphere of the heated ceilidh tent (luxury!) and then I waited overnight to see if breakfast would stay down before deciding whether to retire or not. Fortunately everything went according to plan and so we marked up the controls on the map and started day two with a climb to the first one. Sunday was Greg's turn to suffer, as a heavy cold combined with him having decided to carry my half of the shared gear as I'd effectively taken on very few calories overnight.

The luxury of mid-camp. Ceilidh tent not shown. © Haydn Williams 2013

The luxury of mid-camp. Ceilidh tent not shown. © Haydn Williams 2013

As a result, I had a pretty reasonable day and was able to help pull Greg through his 'down' patches. One of these involved a fairly significant fall through a snow bridge and bang to his leg, but he popped a couple of ibuprofen and got on with it.

Getting on with business as the weather closes in on day two. © Haydn Williams 2013

Getting on with business as the weather closes in on day two. © Haydn Williams 2013

From control number three we took a slightly devious route to four via the head of a stunning gorge north-west of Meallan Dubh, and then proposed to use similarly cunning tactics from four to five. The fact that everyone was heading off in the opposite direction didn't bother us, as we thought we were being very clever by going low-and-long to avoid the shorter but very steep and significant climb that everyone else was doing. We were, at this point, unaware that in my befuddled state that morning I must have completely missed one of the controls when reading the list out to Greg. We do have a system for marking down the controls, but it seems it included me as a single point of failure, and I failed. We also have a double-check procedure in place, but it's predicated on me not being foolish enough to omit controls entirely.

Sweet relief. Final checkpoint of the weekend. © Haydn Williams 2013

Sweet relief. Final checkpoint of the weekend. © Haydn Williams 2013

Everyone else was therefore doing the climb because they knew about the control at the top of it! We duly navigated our way to what we thought was the next control, blissfully ignorant of the fact that everyone else had visited another one in the meantime. We obviously weren't aware of the error at the time, and the last couple of kilometres felt like a battle of attrition with the hillside as we continued to plod our (now 25%-longer-than-the-planner-intended!) way to the last control. That done, we both managed to get a sprint shamble on to the finish line.

Click for bigger. Day one on the left; day two on the right.

Click for bigger. Day one on the left; day two on the right.

Interestingly, we placed 15th on day one and based purely on timings for day two we would have placed about 18th overall. That involves us covering a bit less ascent but a bit more distance, so we can't have been moving too slowly despite how it felt. Alas, you don't get extra points for going entirely the wrong way and so for the first time we don't have a race result. Shocking. Nevertheless, we both had fun and that's what counts. Apparently *.

Anyway, I can safely say that this was the hardest, snowiest, friendliest, most relaxed, most river-crossingy, and probably overall most enjoyable mountain marathon I've done to date. The Saunders is in July and it will have to be pretty special to beat this!

 

* That's a joke – I had a great time.  :)

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I Like Driving in Dad's Car

Occasionally, Dad takes cars which are worth very little off people (it's part of his job, he's not a conscientious thief), and then he scraps them. He suggested a slight twist to this format when an old Toyota Celica came in recently: take it for a track day at Oulton Park first.

Peek-a-boo! © Haydn Williams 2013

Peek-a-boo! © Haydn Williams 2013

After a quick check-up at the workshop and some new brake pads and fluid she was declared fit-for-purpose, so we loaded her onto the trailer and headed to the circuit. We met Gareth there and all pretended not to be nervous or just plain terrified.

Fortunately not needed. © Haydn Williams 2013

Fortunately not needed. © Haydn Williams 2013

It soon became clear that there were lots of people with some serious kit in attendance; within seconds of arriving I'd spotted a GT-R, an SLS and an M6. The only reason I didn't spot any other worryingly-fast hardware is because all the single-seaters were so low-profile they were hidden behind everything else.

Not quite concourse standard, but we've all been very busy with other things. © Haydn Williams 2013

Not quite concourse standard, but we've all been very busy with other things. © Haydn Williams 2013

Gareth's rather hectic introduction to the circuit was on the 'sighting lap', which turned out to be only a fraction slower than a full-on flying lap, while I desperately tried to remember lines in preparation for my go.

What a beauty! Dad laying down a fast lap. © Haydn Williams 2013

What a beauty! Dad laying down a fast lap. © Haydn Williams 2013

Oulton Park. © Will Pittenger http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Will_Pittenger

Oulton Park. © Will Pittenger http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Will_Pittenger

With the proper session started, the Celica did us proud. I wouldn't say that any one of us was significantly quicker than the others, but there was only one person who didn't spin (and he has a blog called Haydn's Blog). Unfortunately I unexpectedly had to leave early, but did manage to fit a couple of sessions in. I'll admit to a fairly significant wobble entering Cascades too quickly, which was corrected more by instinct than possession of the appropriate knowledge and skills.

The sticker allows you onto the track. If you break the rules, you're officially de-stickered and sent home. © Haydn Williams 2013

The sticker allows you onto the track. If you break the rules, you're officially de-stickered and sent home. © Haydn Williams 2013

By the time Dad and Gareth had finished thrashing her around the track in the afternoon, the poor old car was apparently dropping oil and so she finished the day with her head held high. And has now probably been squashed into an eighteen-inch cube.

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