... about 3 years and 2 months early, by my reckoning:
Cheeky feckers!
Monday 18th May, 2009
Pragmatism versus Purism
After my failure to subdue the Coniston Fells last month, a rematch has been approved. Sometime during the next few weeks I'll be having another go, subject to the back being given the green light. This time I'll take a roll of gaffer-tape and some nails to hold things together - there's no way I'm going to be forced off the mountains by injury twice in one season, after having kept a clean-sheet ever since I started 35 years ago.
It's a moot point as to whether or not to include Dow Crag again - I'm tempted to be pragmatic and give it a miss, heading for the heart of the group of fells via Levers Water. That should give more options for extending the route on Sunday, which means that the shops of Ambleside won't be so much of a temptation (although the pubs of Coniston may fill that rôle). Then again, I suppose a purist would start again at the place where the previous attempt went awry, which would mean a trudge back up The Cove to Goat's Hause. Hmm... maybe I should just let the weather dictate the terms.
Whatever happens, I'll be taking it easy. These things shouldn't be rushed. I can't see the point of fighting the M6, gravity and the clock 😉
Thursday 14th May, 2009
Talking crap
Way back when I was a kid we used to have toilet-tissue that was boxed rather than on a roll. At the time I didn't give much thought to it, and when the stuff became hard to find we moved to "bog-standard" rolls and the memory of it was filed away in the "Obsolete" cabinet. That was way back in the early 70s.
Over the last few years, that memory's been popping back to the forefront of my mind now and again, usually when squatting over a cat-scrape out in the wilds, frantically fighting the elements to regain control of either the uncoiling paper roll or the bag of loose sheets that mark the end of a job well done. The old-fashioned bogroll-in-a-box would be ideal for such duties, I thought - lightweight and simple to pack, less weight and more eco-friendly than wet-wipes, more humane and hygienic than turd-greasing, and safer than using a handful of tick-infested vegetation.
Our searches for said accessory during our weekly supermarket-shopping adventures have always proved fruitless... until yesterday, when Tesco turned up trumps:
I'll give them a try. "Every Little Helps", as they say.
Hopefully they won't cause piles the size of space-hoppers, as has happened to the unfortunate kids depicted on the boxes 
Wednesday 6th May, 2009
Suckers for punishment
Today I had need to visit the infamous shed-losing DIY store again. Just out of curiosity, I had a look around in the yard to see what they'd done with the duff panel that I sent back. Yes, you guessed it - they've put it in with the rest of the bits of the other 7x7 shed, so it's for sale again. I know that it's the same panel, because I marked it with a water-based marker-pen where it wouldn't show. Sometime soon, some poor sod's going to buy that shed and then have to jump through the same fiery hoops as I did trying to get the same duff panel exchanged.
I'd have thought that the staff would have had enough hassle over this item, but they seem ready to start the cycle all over again.
It just beggars belief.
Eejuts.
Sunday 3rd May, 2009
Coniston Fells Wildcamping – Part 3 – Therapy
Like I said, "In circumstances like these, there’s only one thing to do… " - we went shopping, of course.
Ambleside was the first victim of my grimacing face and odd gait. I'd been searching for some replacement footwear for some time, as my two-year-old beloved Raichle Fusion Mid XCRs had no sole left on them. After checking out most of the larger shops in search of a bargain we had given up all hope of finding something suitable, but for some reason I was drawn into The Mountain Factor, where I found the following eVENT-lined 3-season beauties:
Trezeta Peak, size 8, very comfy
The assistant was surprised at the speed of the sale - I tried them on, walked a few paces and shouted "Sold!" . Apparently all other boot-triers like to spend a lot of time on such activities, but I knew almost instantly that these boots were fine for me. RRP £90, mine for £60. Excellent! I've worn them daily since then, and they've been brilliant.
Having read a lot of favourable reports about the Osprey Exos series of packs, I went into The Climbers Shop to try on the 46 version. There's no doubt that it's a thing of beauty and a nice bit of lightweight craftsmanship, but it wouldn't last five minutes if I used it. You see, most folk use their packs to carry their gear and that's the end of it, but my packs are gear-carriers, pillows, seats, backrests, windshelters, bumpers (especially when sliding down Lord's Rake) and, on occasion, toboggans. Give me a decent grade of cordura or kevlar anyday and I'll be happy, but I'd be too bothered about destroying the work of art that the Exos undoubtedly is. I didn't much care for the hip-belt fitting, though - it's fixed to the pack almost amidships, rather than at the widest part, and I can't see how that's better for stability. Maybe I'm missing something here, but it certainly didn't feel good to me. Anyway, I put the thing back on the rack and walked away. Nice, but not for me.
We made our escape from Ambleside, but made it only as far as Windermere as Chris wanted to get some microfibre bath-towels direct from the Lakeland shop, as they had become unavailable online. There were none on the racks, so we asked the assistants where they were. We were informed that they were out of stock and discontinued, the last few having been sold from the bargain area a while ago. Disgruntled, we stood outside as we planned our next move.
As we talked, my gaze was drawn to the window-display, where there were four of the "out of stock" towels. I nipped back in, grabbed them from the display and took them to the assistants, who were bemused. You see, it works like this: items in window-displays don't show on the stock count, and they're not for sale, as they are there solely to advertise product within the store. The trouble is, they were advertising an unavailable product, and so their purpose was redundant, but the staff aren't allowed to change the window-display in any way until Management issues a decree. Mad, eh? Anyway, after getting the top-brass to see sense, we got all four towels at a rock-bottom price (something like £3 each instead of the £12 standard price) and a great explanation from the staff. They're nice folks in there.
Oh, and before I forget, they have free internet access upstairs between the cafe and the loos, so if you're in Windermere and you're desperate for a quick pee, sarnie and surf, you know where to go.
Shopping completed, we made for the M6 and headed home. All in all, it had been an interesting weekend!
Saturday 2nd May, 2009
Belt and braces
Despite having the solemn promise about the replacement shed-panel delivery this afternoon, I just didn't trust them. Would you? Just letting things happen was getting me nowhere - I knew that I would have to make things happen. I'm good at that.
I called in unannounced at about 11a.m. and went straight to the back yard of the store to see what had happened to the replacement panel... it wasn't on the trolley... it wasn't in the goods-out area... it wasn't in the main store... it was back where we had found it on Thursday, buried under the rest of the bits of the other flat-packed 7x7. Somebody had been playing silly-buggers.
Back at the Customer Services desk I found the assistant that I had helped to sort out the panel on Thursday. He was genuinely shocked when I told him that the panel-swap had not taken place on Friday, and was gobsmacked when I showed him where said panel had ended up. He was apologetic to me, and we sorted the panel again.
I made it absolutely plain to him, and to everybody else within earshot at the tills and Customer Services desk, that I had had more than enough of this crap, and that the shit would fly fast and far very soon if I didn't get proper Customer Service. I even threatened to decorate the front of their building in a similar manner to the way that "Romanes eunt domus" was painted onto the walls of the Governor's Palace in Monty Python's Life of Brian. They thought that I was joking, but I wasn't.
He phoned the delivery contractors to find out when they would be arriving to do their pick-up - they would be there in about 20 minutes. We carried the panel to the goods-out area where I made him put a big instruction label on the panel, then I just stood there and waited - there was no way that I was going to leave until I had actually witnessed both the loading of the goods and the instruction of the driver.
After a few more minutes the van arrived and I watched the loading and the instruction - eventually I was happy enough to leave them to it, after I'd told them all about my shit/fan/impact prediction. I thanked the assistant and then went home to wait.
And an hour or so later, it was delivered. No ceremony, no recrimination, no hassle, just a bit of friendly banter and leg-pulling.
So here's a big thanks to Ben, the one assistant that had the balls to seize the horns of his dilemma, wrestle the beast to the ground and then stand triumphantly above it in his hour of victory.
Nice one, Ben!
