Touching the Gin

A blog inspired by Joe Simpson's book, but with less blood and more gin.

As pretty much all of you will be aware, I am currently off the fells and nursing a broken foot.  I don't even have a god story to go with it - I was spring cleaning and fell downstairs when I was looking for the feather duster.  The best part is, it turns out the feather duster was upstairs all along.  Anyhoo...

Being incapacitated for a couple of weeks and now being mobile but slow and wobbly has given me time to reflect on all the teeny tiny things about hiking that I have been taking for granted but can now no longer do.  I like to think of myself as someone who has always pondered the smaller details, but there's a lot I have missed.

Also, although this is a light and cheery blog, these events have totally driven home to me issues around access to the outdoors that I had not previously considered.  That's a topic I am not even remotely qualified to tackle, but if you're interested in learning more about that then follow Debbie North, she's the accessibility champion for Julia Bradbury's The Outdoor Guide.

Right, back to the list of things I have missed...

1. Carrying things - for the first two weeks I was totally reliant on my crutches and couldn't even carry a cup of tea.  I repurposed my rucksack for a lot of the carrying and using flasks for hot drinks, but a G&T simply does not taste the same out of a flask.

2.  Pulling on a fresh pair of walking socks - who knew socks were so complicated?  I can just about do them on my own now - on the plus side I had to invest in some very snazzy long socks to go under my aircast.  Whaddya think?

3. The comforting feeling of a good pair of walking boots - I *love* my boots but it's going to be a good 6 weeks or so before I can wear them again.  Or at least wear both of them.  I love the safe and secure feeling of lacing them up and knowing I'm good to go!

4.  Walking without pain - a small thing but worth mentioning.  Walking has always been my 'thing' - not just on the fells but everywhere.  I have walked through towns and cities whenever I can - you always learn so much more about a place that way.  Now that every single step is at best uncomfortable (when I walk in the house) and at worst really painful (after 100 yards or so) I truly miss the ease with which I walked everywhere without giving it a second thought.

5. The sound of grass on my boots.  I *love* this sound.  I posted this short video on my FB page a month or so ago but hardly anyone paid it any attention so I assume it's just me.  There's a very specific sound long grass makes when it bounces off my boots and I love it!

(I *always* get my boots from the fab folks at Keswick Boot Company)

6.  Stiles.  Oh how I have bitched and moaned about stiles at the end of a long hike when all I want is a gate, but no more!  I realise a) how lucky I am to be able to hop over a stile and b) how utterly prohibitive they are if you are less mobile.

7.  Going out alone.  This whole 'new normal' has taken a bit of getting used to for me.  In the past my job saw me travelling the length and breadth of the country and now I never need to leave the house for work.  To restore some sanity I had created a 'fake commute' where each morning and evening I would go for a walk to top and tail my working day - it truly was a sanity saver.  Thing is, for now, I am not allowed out on my own.  I voluntarily handed in my crutches at the earliest opportunity so as not to get overly reliant on them and to get my foot moving again as soon as possible (Doc said he was OK with it if I was), but it's still early days and I need a walking pole on one arm and a bloke on the other.  Don't get me wrong, Steve is indeed a wonderful man, but I do miss going out on my own.

8.  The people I meet - during my fake commute I've chatted to plenty of people and really enjoyed getting to know a few 'regulars' that I'd bump into most mornings. Obviously I've no way of letting them know I'm out of action, and I wonder if they have even noticed I've vanished, but I do miss the quick chats and making friends with assorted dogs.

9.  Being invisible - this one was a big shock to me.  I've often heard people say that they feel invisible in wheelchairs but, for me, it has been the exact opposite.  In order to cover a reasonable distance at a reasonable speed, we gratefully accepted the loan of a wheelchair from a lovely friend.  This enabled us to get all the way from Hest Bank to Morecambe Jetty and back over the weekend.  Never have I been so stared at!  We made the journey with a combo of me walking a little then Steve pushing me in the chair.  When I was in the chair I was constantly stared at and was quite taken aback that no-one thought it a particularly rude thing to do.  Mind you, Steve wasn't to be entirely trusted with wheelchair duty...

10.  Chocolate biscuits!  Honestly - you thought lockdown was bad! I'm barely burning any calories at the moment so am on a strict 'no snacks' diet.  Oh how I miss a long day yomping over the fells with a rucksack full of sarnies and chocolate, and coming home to a huge pizza or plate of pasta, knowing that I have burned it all off during the day.  I've replaced my favourite chocolate digestive with raw carrots, which I quite enjoy, but it's not the same.  Thanks to the lovely folks at Shed 1, who sent me this as a get well pressie, I can still enjoy my gin ration in the evenings!  Cheers!

And if gin is your thing - check out our Gin, Cake and Rucksacks book where I explore the gin distilleries of Cumbria with a complete stranger.  I'm amazed we didn't break anything then, to be honest!

Click here to order

Mind full or Mindful?

Last week I had to re-enter the corporate world, I'm not looking for sympathy or medals, just stating a fact.  For the past 7 years I've been a fulltime freelancer but, thanks to, ahem, uncertainties in the policital landscape, work in my particular field has dwindled somewhat of late, and we are a very long way from earning a living from our books just yet (although you could click on the link at the end and help us along a bit!).

View from Grange-over-Sands station

The upshot is that I've been lucky enough to find a job in my specialist field (learning & development, thanks for asking 😀), working for a lovely organisation.  The only downside is that they're in Salford.  I have nothing against Salford, it's just really tricky to get to from Grange-over-Sands.  And I mean really tricky.  It takes me just under 3 hours each way, and that's without factoring in the vagaries of Northern Rail!  To give you some idea, it also takes me just over 3 hours to get all the way to London.

Love this building next to Wigan station

The thing that has struck me most about my commute is how unhappy everyone is.  Very few people smile, no-one makes eye contact and kindness is scarce.  Those people that do talk are inevitably complaining about their boss/ co-workers/ workload, but most folks are plugged into laptops or phones, oblivious to the world around them. Some things in partcular caught my attention...

Walking to work

• On day 1 I changed trains at Lancaster and had 20 minutes to kill (long story).  I sauntered into the waiting room to plug my phone in while I waited - I needed my map at the other end.  I then sat down with my knitting.  Five minutes later two women barelled in, frantically plugged in (between them) three mobile phones and two laptops, then sat, frantically typing what looked like emails, for 10 minutes before their train arrived, whereupon (fabulous word!) they equally frantically stuffed everything back into their bags and raced to the train.  It was 7:20am.  I wondered when their working day was supposed to start.  The day they were getting paid for.  How much have organisations taken advantage of the fact that we can work from anywhere now?  No wonder everyone is so unhappy.
• On a crammed train a lady got on.  She didn't look well.  Every seat was taken and folks were stuffed into every nook and cranny along the aisles.  She asked very loudly and politely if there was anyone in a priority seat who didn't need it.  No-one moved.  Not one person.  No-one even made eye contact.  I'm aware that not not all disabilities are visible but I refuse to believe that every single person in that carriage had one.  I was right down the far end but still stood up and called her down.  I'm not special, I'm just doing what I was taught as a child; have some decency and respect for others, especially those in need.
• On every single trip I made this week I'd say that well over 90% of folks were staring at their phone screens, mostly doing work, but a few were playing games.  A handful of people were reading and, on most occasions, I was the only one knitting and gazing out of the window.  When are our brains getting any downtime?  At the office I've already chatted to a couple of folks who say how stressed they are and how they can't switch off.  I'm not surprised - most organisations will take every single second we give them, so we need to set boundaries to save our sanity.  
• Boarding etiquette is non-existant - it's every man for himself.  If I do pause to allow someone on in front of me, the person behind has tutted, huffed and practically climbed into my rucksack.  I've been pushed and barged an it's only week one.  

Gorgeous autumn colours

These days it's way too easy to have our minds full of things, work, home, family, finances; the list goes on and on, but when are we making time for ourselves?  Even if it's just giving our mind a break on our commute.  How often are we truly mindful - right there, in the moment, as opposed to having our minds full of a million different things?  Your computer doesn't perform as well with lots of tabs open, and neither do you.

So many people are racing through life from dawn to dusk and not really enjoying very much of it at all, then they take it out on others and so the cycle continues.  Misery, it seems, is contagious.

Discovering local landmarks

I refuse to believe it's complicated, we just need to be a bit nicer to ourselves, and each other. If misery is contagious, why not happiness?

My mission is this:  I resolve to smile at people, to be courteous, to stare out of the windows and not to bitch about my co-workers - we are all in this together and none of us are perfect.  There will be times when I fail, I am only human, but if we all tried just a little bit harder the maybe the world wouldn't be quite such a crappy place.

The lights of Morecambe

You know that bit above where I said you could buy our books?  Well you can buy them all right HERE.  You could even read them on your commute! We will be happy to sign them and they make the perfect gift for lovers of Cumbria.  Honest they do.  Also Christmas is coming.  Just saying...

Life in the sloe lane.

View from the train

You may have noticed a distinct lack of hiking blogs over recent months - this is mainly due to the fact I've had a spectacularly busy summer working as well, of course, of all my Glasgow shenanigans.

View from the station

Wonderful though it's all been so far as paying the mortgage is concerned, I've not been doing very well from a "new and better balanced life" standpoint.  Days have been a blur of train journeys up and down the country tapping  away on my laptop to meet another print deadline.  Fair to say I've been getting my hiking kicks vicariously via Steve who is still doing really well on his 214 fells in 214 days adventure (he's behind on the blog as he's using all the good weather days to get up the hills).

Just one reason to visit Morecambe Bay

Things have thankfully slowed a little over the past couple of weeks allowing me to take stock.  I've made a couple of big decisions - I turned down a big contract working overseas as although it would have been gloriously well paid, it would have taken me away from home far too much.  It's no good having values unless you're going to stick to them.  I've also trimmed some other work out which didn't tie in to the work life balance principle.  I'm still questioning my sanity a little, but I know deep down it was exactly the right thing to do.

So what have I been doing instead?  Well I've been getting more involved with the group promoting Morecambe Bay as a tourist destination, taking the time to walk to appointments instead of just jumping on a bus or taking the car and yes, finally getting a bit of hiking in.

Morecambe Bay Sunset

Morecambe Moonrise

Funny how no one walks these days - not like they used to.  With more and more cars on the road the emphasis is always on how fast you can get there rather than enjoying the journey.  I had a meeting at the Lancaster House Hotel last week and though I could have taken a bus from the city centre, I decided to walk instead.  The few miles there along the A6 weren't the most picturesque, but when the meeting was over I took the pretty way back along the canal - took a lot longer than driving, but I saw so much more.

Beautiful hedgerows

Lancaster Canal

Lancaster Canal

Then yesterday I finally got my hiking boots back on again.  Steve nabbed the car and was off conquering most of the Crinkle Crags range so I decided to explore more local paths and found a rather lovely route winding away from Grange, over the far side of Hampsfell and around the fields near Cartmel.  Utterly stunning and I didn't see another person until the end of the route back up by the hospice.

Finally back out hiking

Curious ramp

The views were glorious, the weather spectacular and the hedgerow laden with sloes.  I already have 2 litres of sloe gin on the go, plus a litre of damson gin and 4 jars of damson jam - but it seemed a sin to leave them there and the "scratched to ribbons arms" were a small price to pay.  But the very best part about it all was that I had the time to do it.  No rushing, no racing and no nagging worry at the back of my mind that I really should be getting a move on.

Ripe for the picking!

I've heard many people wondering where this year has gone, it's flown by so fast and how can it be September already?  But so did last year, and the year before that.  Before we know it we'll be old and grey and wondering how it all went by so quickly without us even noticing. You may question my sanity for turning down a big contract, I could have bought a lot of nice stuff with the money I made - but turning it down has bought me the one thing the contract never could - time - and for me that's more important than pretty much anything else.

Beautiful Morecambe Bay

Legless in the Lakes (Day 1)

Cumbria from Hest Bank (plus seagull)

Not what you think.  Well, not exactly.  Mum's visiting at the moment and she's non too clever on her feet meaning we're having to discover all the things you can do in and around the "adventure capital of England" which don't involve hills or hiking so, I thought I'd go back to the roots of the blog and keep a daily blog of the stuff we're finding to do for those who can't go zooming up and down the fells.

So where did day 1 find us headed?  To kick off with we decided to make like a bird and head south.  I'm used to just slinging a rucksack together and heading for the hills so was unprepared for the additional time it takes to get everyone into the car.  We were finally all on board by 11:42 and, leaving Grange we headed south towards Heysham.  By the time we reached Hest Bank (12:15) the cry went up "well i think it's about time for a drink - who fancies a drink?"  For a blissful moment the image of a G&T flashed through my mind before I remembered I was driving (to be fair, the steering wheel in my hand had been my first clue.).  Time to put all my negotiation skills into practice - I countered with an offer of a fabulous view followed by extraordinary tea and cakes at a fabulous little place I knew later.  Thankfully it worked and we journeyed onwards...

Heysham tombs

Our legless tour took us first to Hest Bank to admire the views across to Cumbria, then to Heysham (via Eric Morecambe - who can miss him?) to admire the tombs (and the views across to Cumbria.).  The Heysham tombs require a short walk, but nothing too taxing and if you've got someone in the party in a wheelchair it's an easy push - well until you get to the church, but I guess you could always park at the gates and pray for a miracle.  There are several boards giving you useful information on the site and when you're done with those there are the spectacular views across the bay to keep your attention.  As final resting places go, it's not a bad one, though maybe a bit parky in the winter.

Leaving Heysham we headed north towards Leghton Moss - the promised land of coffee and cakes.  Even if you're not members it's free to look around the shop or nip up to the fabulous cafe.  We enjoyed a wonderful bowl of homemade mushroom soup and a roll and those members of the party with the sweet tooth forced themselves to sample the cakes, all in the interests of this blog of course; now that's true sacrifice.  Although the cafe is upstairs there's a stairlift for those who need it plus wheel chairs to get around the reserve.  After a quick visit to Lillian's Hide to look for the Bittern (again) where we failed (again) we headed back to get a ringside seat for the starlings (again).  This time we didn't fail and the starlings put on a spectacular show before hunkering down in the reed beds for the evening.

Starlings murmurating...

All done we headed for home, via Grange Christmas tree - the largest, living, lit Christmas tree in England I'm led to believe.  Sightseeing all done we made it home in time for a suitably festive movie and that G&T I'd been hallucinating about since lunchtime...