Coronavirus diaries: day 294 - life in lockdown

 

Snow and cold

I was thinking about when I post to this blog, and why I'd left such a gap.  One reason is that the days blend into one another.  There's a lot of news when the lockdown starts, but then as it drags on, not much happens - at least at an individual level.

The U.K.'s Covid-19 numbers have been horrible.  Last week, we breached the 60,000 level for one day.  This would be equivalent to ~ 300,000 cases per day in the U.S.  According to government health experts, we are now in the teeth of the epidemic, and the next few weeks will be the worst.  My personal view is that when the 'UK variant' hits the U.S., cases there will skyrocket.

Our family remains healthy.  Individually, I do not have a lot of outside contact.  I work from home, I go running, and I go to the grocery store.

I guess the last activity poses some risk, but I've been doing this since the start (masked, of course), and so it feels normal.

*

Running has been good.  We've had two weeks with snow on the ground and subfreezing temperatures most days.  So, it's proper winter.  I've been getting out in the morning often before sitting in my office for most of the day, as sitting after having exercised feels much better than waiting all day to get out.

At this time of year I'd usually be planning races or backpacking trips for the next 12 months.  But it doesn't seem useful to do so, and indeed when the thought crosses my mind 'We should travel to x this summer' it seems strange.  Imperceptively, my horizon has shrunk.

Coronavirus diaries: day 287

                   Line of cars waiting to enter McDonald's drive-thru 

It's the 287th day since our initial lockdown last March.  What, you may ask, happened in the last 277 days since my last post?  In Scotland, the initial lockdown lasted in various forms until late June and early July.  Summer was not fully normal, but we made the best of it with backpacking trips to the Highlands, and a family week away at St. Andrews.  At one point, there was optimism that Scotland might be Covid-free, as the case numbers had dropped so dramatically.  Our teens returned to school in August, and a second wave of Covid-19 (+ new restrictions) returned in the Autumn.  We've just entered a new lockdown, with the Prime Minister again making an announcement on TV of restrictions. Similar rules were also announced earlier in the day for Scotland by the First Minster here. 

But as we start 2021, our family remains in good health.  The schools are off and will continue to be so now until February.  The challenge now, as before, is to maintain structure (and spirits) as we work and school from home.

* 

Prior to the announcements today, we went to McDonalds for lunch in what is likely to be our last visit for a while. There's no dining inside, but you can get take away (which is what we did). They also restricted the number of people in the restaurant ordering food.  We don't go to McDonalds often but, as with many things, the prospect of not being able to do so made it much more appreciated.

Coronavirus diaries: day 10

A closed playground

We are still well. This morning I could hear my wife coughing, and it occurred to me that she could have the virus (I'd always assumed that I would get it first, as I have asthma, and am susceptible to the flu generally). She was fine, and just needed a drink of water.

This is one of the problems I'm finding with the virus: every time you have a cough, or feel unaccountably tired, you wonder 'am I sick?'. Oddly, it seems worse when I am in the house all day. Towards the end of the day, my throat feels dry (could it be the exposure to all the cleaning chemicals we use?), and I'm sometimes fatigued. Usually, this dissipates once I'm outside exercising.

*

On a video call with work seven work colleagues, it emerged that two of them had isolated with symptoms that could have been the virus. They were o.k. now.

A third colleague indicated that his wife had had the virus. She had a fever and cough, the hallmarks of the infection in the evening. She'd ask my colleague to make sure that he loaded the bread maker the night before to make a loaf for the morning. In the morning, she complained to him that he'd forgotten to make the bread, as she could not smell it. However, he had not forgotten, and the whole house smelled of freshly baked bread.

Obviously, seven is a small sample, but it does suggest that the virus is widespread. They are only able to test hospitalised patients at the moment, and front-line medical staff (and not even many of these), so the official numbers are vast underestimates of the true spread. To their credit, the authorities have acknowledged this.

*

I've developed a habit of tuning into the daily coronavirus briefings by the government, if I'm available. Today there was a jump in deaths - 538 new fatalities.


*

In the evening I felt myself coughing a bit. I felt well, and went out for my daily run. This usually reveals if anything is truly wrong. Admittedly, I did feel tired at the start of the run, but after a handful of miles, as usual, I felt fine.

It hasn't rained for almost two weeks, so the ground is finally drying out, and the trails are good for running. A side benefit of our smaller world is that there's the chance to pay more attention to one's local surroundings. This evening, for example, I noticed that the trees along my path had an orange lichen (which I know know is called alga Trentopohlia).

Coronavirus diaries: day 7

The motorway was really quiet this morning.

The latest news is that the infection is expected to peak here in Scotland in two to three weeks, and that we should expect that the stay-at-home restrictions will continue for 13 weeks.

Like a marathon, I'm not thinking about the whole duration. I'm just focusing on each week as it comes.

And as this week has come to a finish, it is striking how long it seems. It seems like a long time ago when the restrictions on movement were made, though it was only Monday. Life seems to have slowed down, and this in some ways in pleasant.

I also have this sense that as long as I stay home I will not get sick. So, it's not quite as tedious as might be imagined.

Also, of course, we have access to a lot in our online world. Imagine if the pandemic had struck in the pre-internet world.

Coronavirus diaries: days 3-6

A little low on wine today at my local grocery store


Day 3

The restriction to one exercise outing a day has focussed my running. I know I can only get out once, and this will be the majority of my outside time for the day, so I want to make it count. Thus, I've been trying to do about 10 miles a day. This also will help me to achieve one of my pre-coronavirus goals: running 100 miles in a week.

Day 4

Taught my first class on-line today. There were a few technical hitches - one of my videos didn't work - but overall it went well. Actually, with students asking questions on the chat function at the same time I was live-streaming, it felt interactive.

*

Late in the day, the University cancelled exams for the students. I suspect my on-line classes going forward will now only be attended by the keenest students.


Day 5

I reasoned that the grocery store would be less busy today (Friday) than on the weekend, so my son and I headed out there. There were several changes since my last visit. First, the controlled the number of people in the store by having people line up outside, spaced apart. They then only let a few people in at a time.

Waiting to enter the grocery store

Inside the store, people were keeping their distance from one another. One woman was wearing a mask. The shop was reasonably well-stocked, and my son and I picked up food for the week. The wine aisle, however, was depleted.

To check out, we again were required to get in a single-file line. This wrapped around the perimeter of the aisles. My son and I took turns waiting in line while we added our final items to the cart.

The check out line

*

My runs are starting to feel less effortful. As I do much the same loop, it is starting to become automatic, so that the time passes relatively quickly. I passed 26 people on the run.

*

The Prime Minister has the coronavirus, it has emerged.

Day 6

I want to start doing my runs in the morning, and this has been a little difficult because I've been running in the evening, and I'm thus tired the next day. To break out of this I ran this morning (after dropping my daughter off to work at the bakery). My legs were tired initially, but the sun was warming and I used the outing to try a different route. I still passed 38 people, many of whom were dog walkers nearer my town.

I've been running on quiet farm roads

Coronavirus diaries: Day 2

I was up early, and headed out for a run before 7 a.m. My route takes me along isolated farm roads, and then along a canal towpath back into town. I didn't pass anyone for the first hour of the run, and then passed 12 people - individual dog walkers or runners - along the towpath and nearer my neighborhood.

And that was it. I was inside, working via my computer, for the rest of the day.

*

After lunch I received a text message from the government, reinforcing Boris Johnson's statement that we are to stay at home.

Coronavirus diaries: day 1

At a nearby grocery store

The purpose of these diaries is to document the every day changes that occur during the coronavirus pandemic. I'm motivated by Victor Klemperer's Diaries in which he documented the day to day changes occurring in Nazi Germany. I'm not equating the two, of course, but I think it's important to notice the small details in the way our lives are changing, as cumulatively, they will lead us to a different place.

*

Today was essentially the first day, of the first full week, of limits on non-essential travel. My two teenagers are off of school, and I tried to introduce a structure with a 9 a.m. family meeting - essentially just to get everyone up, dressed and active. I'm thinking that we are in for the long haul, so having a daily structure is important.

At this point, we are all healthy. I do know of two work colleagues who indicated that they were currently or had been down with a fever, and feared coronavirus. But to this point, the virus has not affected us directly.

I worked at my computer this morning, and in the afternoon I dropped off the lawn mower at the repair shop. As I was out, I went to the grocery store in a nearby town. It's a superstore, but there were only a few people shopping. On the P.A. system, they announced the shopping limits: shoppers were allowed no more than three of any one item, and two of restricted items.

The store had some items that our local grocery store did not have - and I was able to get three tins of tomato soup (which we are going through quickly, as we are now all home for lunch every day). I was also able to buy beer, which had recently become almost sold out locally when they'd announced that pubs were to close. There was one battered 12 pack of McKewans Export remaining, so I took this, and some bottles of craft ales.

Walking past the toilet roll aisle, I noticed that the shelves were largely bare.

At the checkout, I was only permitted to buy two bottles of the same beer, and thus had to put my third bottle back. I was able to buy any number of different beers, however.

On the drive home I listened to a press briefing in which they again discussed the coronavirus outbreak.

*

At 8:30 in the evening, we sat in the living room and watched Boris Johnson's special announcement. I feared that we'd be restricted from getting out to exercise at all, but fortunately he announced that individuals could go out once a day to walk, run or cycle. All non-essential businesses are to close.

November camping: 15 hours inside a tent

A wet camp


My son and I were in the Ochils, not far from where we live, for our November camp. We were going for his camp-once-a-month-for-a-year challenge. This was his 11th month.

But life is busy. He had a rugby match in the morning, I did Parkrun, and by the time we'd had lunch and packed up, it was early afternoon.

We headed up past Stirling, and stopped at the Dunblane Marks and Spencer for pastries and snacks. We then headed up into the Ochils, parked at the side of the Sheriffmuir road, and walked in to an informal camp in the trees. There's a little sign there indicating that the camp is called 'Camp Runamuck', and a picnic table and fire ring.

At 4:30, we got in the the tent to escape from the rain. I'd brought in some kindling for a camp fire, and put it under the picnic table. Unfortunately, it wasn't a night for a fire.

The weather forecast, at least as far as I could recall it, had indicated that it would be partly sunny with a low chance of rain.

However, shortly after we'd set up the tent, the first rain drops started to fall. It strengthened, and rained for hours. Even in the middle of the night when I awoke, I could hear heavy drops on the tent fly. In the morning, the rain was intermittent, and finally paused.

It was a little chilly with the wind, so we ended up in our bags. We continued a book that I'd been reading to my son - Natural Born Heroes - which describes a WWII mission to kidnap a German general on Crete. The story is compelling, and the author includes quite a number of digressions, so we've been reading on and off now for about a year.

Later, still in the rain, I warmed some bacon in the tent vestibule (with the vestibule door open, of course). The warmed bacon butties were welcome, and somehow tasted better than at home.

We played Risk on my kindle. We were both a little tired, and after 8 p.m. turned in.

The rain continued all night.

In the morning, finally, the rain eased a bit. There was a little water on the tent floor where the fly didn't quite cover the tent, but otherwise my old tent held up well again. With our inflatable Therma-rests, our sleeping bags escaped the moisture.

There was an inversion, and the valley below was still in cloud.

Mist in the morning, after a rainy night

We bundled up and headed into the hills. We ticked off another Ochil (we're trying to do them all). The hill was a broad peat bog, and the route was cross country, but it was good to get out. We headed back to camp and packed up.

And that was it. We'd been tent-bound from 4:30 p.m. until about 8 in the morning, except for pee breaks. One forgets how long the nights are at this time of year, but it's also a time for relaxing and enjoying being tent-bound in the rain.

The Great Outdoors Challenge: Shiel Bridge to Montrose (part 5)

Glen Muick


Day 9

I was awoken by the footsteps of two hillwalkers, passing near my tent at 6 a.m. They'd must have had an early start, as I was a few miles from the nearest road.

I packed, brewed my coffee, ate and headed down the track towards Glen Muick. The track led through a pleasant forest and past a large house. Glen Muick was flat, and featured many deer. I headed past the car park at the Spittal of Glenmuick, and its useful facilities, and then along a stream into the hills. Near the Glen, there appeared to be a number of ruins, presumably from a previous village. It was warm, again, and I started to sweat a bit with my trousers on.

At the head of the stream the path faded, and I navigated by compass. I was aiming for the Shielin of Mark bothy, and emerged from the peat haggs about 200 meters to the left of structure. There was smoke coming from the fireplace there, and I could see people outside, so I headed over.

A mother and her adult daughter had spent the night in the bothy, along with a male work colleague. The latter two worked at the same outdoors shop, and asked me about what I was carrying. They were friendly, and made me a cup of real coffee, and shared a few granola bars. The man had gone with a pretty light sleeping bag, and had been cold in the night.

Eventually, I headed off up to the ridge of Muckle Cairn. From there I headed downhill and cross-country to a track.

I descended down into Glen Lee, and followed the track along the river. My left leg, sore since the big day into Braemar, continued to be an annoyance. The wind was gusty here, but I eventually emerged near Loch Lee. In a hill nearby there was smoke from a fire. It seemed unlikely to be deliberate, as it was on a steep portion of of this mountain.

A fire in the hills (Craig Nann) near Loch Lee

I listened to a backpacking podcast as I followed the track along Loch Lee. Beyond it I followed a road past the ruins of a 16th-17th century castle, and along the water of Lee. It was a pleasant Sunday afternoon, and a lot of day walkers were out.

Invermark Castle, near Loch Lee

I left the road and headed along a farm track that goes over a hill and directly to Tarfside. I'd taken this route before, as it cuts off a stretch of road, but coming at the end of a long day it felt tiring (as it had when I did it previously).

I arrived at Tarfside, and checked in to St. Drostans, where I was to spend the night.

Pack explosion in my dorm room at St. Drostans

I showered and then joined the volunteers and a few Challengers in the kitchen for a welcome home-cooked dinner (fish pie!) and a beer or two. Over the walk, I'd been accustomed to eating a bit lighter, typically ramen noodles or equivalent for dinner, so the dinner felt like a vast amount of food. It was great to meet and chat with the legendary Roger Smith, involved in the Challenge since its inception, and the first editor of The Great Outdoors magazine.


Day 10

I had a bacon butty and some coffee early, settled up, and then head up the road. I listened to a history podcast - The Memory Palace - as I crossed the river and followed farm tracks through the Glen.

12 miles to Edzell, and then another 12 to the finish in Montrose

There was, again, a headwind, but the walking was otherwise easy.

On the track through Glen Esk

My lower leg was now an issue. It was particularly painful on any downhills, where I almost had to hobble. I did my usual 55 minute walk/ 5 minute rest, but I was concerned. It would have been gutting to come this far and not finish.

In Edzell, I stopped at The Tuck Inn for lunch. Afterwards, I found a elastic type wrap for my leg, and wrapped it up tightly. This, and some ibuprofen, seemed to help.

Looking back at Edzell

I pressed on, hobbling across the A90 and up along the minor roads.

Almost there!

It was a full day of walking, but in the late afternoon I eventually reached the Montrose basin.

The finish!

I made my way through town, and to the Park Inn to Challenge Control. There I was presented with my finishing certificate and a welcome cup of tea.

And that was it. I hobbled to the train station, and boarded a train home.



Did I learn anything this year? See:

Five lessons learned from the TGO Challenge

The Great Outdoors Challenge: Shiel Bridge to Montrose (part 4)

Wild camp near Lochnagar


Day 8

I joined Thilou and Rob for breakfast at The Bothy, a restaurant associated with the Braemar Mountain Sports shop. They weren't under the same time pressure to finish, and were considering staying put for the day. I took my leave, headed back to the campground and packed up. Once done, I took my water bottle to the washing up sink to fill up, and then headed across the road and up into the hills.

It was warm. After a good climb the trail leveled out in the forest, and I reached for my water bottle. It wasn't there. I'd left it back at the campground. I considered my options, but there wasn't really an alternative but to retrace my steps. I stashed my pack in the woods and jogged back down the hill and to the campground.

I walked this road three times as I'd forgotten my water bottle at the campground.

Back at the campground, I found my water bottle right where I'd left it. I then fast-walked back up the hill, retrieved my pack, and headed on.

The woods were lovely. On one occasion I took a short-cut that ended up being blocked by a deer fence. Later, I headed up a forest track which I thought was correct but wasn't.

Eventually, I found where I needed to go, and followed a faint path up through the woods. It was very warm.

The trees dissipated as I reached the high ground, and I then followed a track through the heather. For one of the first times ever in Scotland, I took my umbrella out to shield me from the sun! As I walked, I was startled by a small adder near the trail.

Looking back at Royal Deeside

I eventually came to a track, and rested in the shade of a small shelter.

A little shelter near the track

I pushed on and reached the Gelder Shiel bothy. It was well kept, and is definitely some place I'd like to come back to. I had a late lunch there, and pushed on, as it was too early to stop.

At the Gelder Shiel bothy

A faint path led through the heather. I had my rain trousers on, and my legs were sweaty. The trail was too overgrown, however, to proceed without this leg protection.

Eventually, I reached another track that led towards Lochnagar.

Lochnagar

The afternoon had passed, and I was getting weary. My map suggested that there weren't likely to be many good places to pitch my tent once I started to descend towards Glen Muick, so I found a place a spot near a trail towards Lochnagar.

After setting up my tent, I followed several trails to grouse butts, but none led to water. Eventually, reluctantly, I retraced my steps on the track back to the last point at which I'd seen a dribble of water coming from the peat. I watered up, and returned to my tent to cook dinner.

It was a lovely evening, but once I'd settled in to my sleeping back, sleep came quickly.

Part 5 here

The Great Outdoors Challenge: Shiel Bridge to Montrose (part 3)

Wild camp in Glen Feshie

Days 1-3 here

Days 4-5 here

Day 6

I left the hostel in Newtonmore and headed up the cycle path to Kingussie. The sun was out, and it warmed quickly. I knew that I'd be heading away from civilization for the next two days, so I took the opportunity to pack in some calories: a tin of Coke and a sausage roll.

My pack and my mid-morning snack, in Kingussie

I headed up the road, past the Ruthven Barracks ruins, and into the woods. The track through Glen Feshie was a delight.

The track through the woods

Eventually, I came to the refurbished bothy at Ruigh Aiteachan. The friendly keeper was there with his daughter, working outside, but they invited me in for a tea. This was most welcome. The keeper showed me around the building, and the interior featured new wood panelling throughout. This has to be one of the nicest bothies in Scotland.

It was mid-afternoon, and so I pressed on for a bit. As the trees began to thin out, I sought a good place to pitch my tent. I was keen to stay among the Scots Pines of the Glen, and camped near the end of them.

I used some river water to soak my sponge, and wiped off. Inside the tent, with the sun, it was almost too warm. I left and walked up the trail a bit, but a river crossing made it impassable. I slabbed along the river for a bit, and found an inviting swimming hole which would be fun to explore with my son some time. Back at my tent I read, looked at my maps and dozed.

In the early evening, I heard someone calling from the path. It was a Challenger from Korea, an older woman, looking for her son (who'd apparently walked ahead). I'd seen his tent pitched up ahead, but warned the woman that the path they were on would lead to a river crossing. Her husband arrived, and I guided them to the alternative trail that avoided this crossing.

River Feshie, near my tent

Day 7

I was up and moving early. The trees of Glen Feshie gave way to the open moorland of Glen Geldie. The sun was out, again, and I was making miles.

A few hours in, and I reach the footbridge over the River Eidart (a tributary of the River Feshie). Following the Eidart up into the hill looked inviting, but I had a country to cross, and so this was left for another trip.

Falls in River Eidart

The path through Glen Geldie was suprisingly dry.

The trees of Glen Feshie give way to the open moorland of Glen Geldie

The miles passed, and I stopped for lunch at a small group of trees. On my way I'd passed a conservation group, working on one of the old structures in the Glen.

I continued, and as the miles mounted I started to fatique a bit. Eventually, I reached the trees on the approach to the Linn of Dee. The sun was so bright, it was hard to see my phone to take photos.

Back in the trees, on the approach to Braemar

A right of way sign confirmed that I was 27 miles from Kingussie. On my reckoning, I'd done 20+ miles from Glen Feshie, and still had a few miles to go to Braemar.

A big day from Glen Feshie

I walked through the grounds of Mar Lodge, and then along the road to Braemar. I was beat. I rested every hour, and needed to filter more water from a stream by the side of the road. I fell in with another Challenger, Andre, leaving Mar Lodge, and we chatted for a bit before he took a more scenic route into the village.

In Braemar, I stopped at the Co-op, and purchased some crisps and a Coke. As I was eating these outside, I was hailed by Thilou, who I'd met
on my TGO Challenge four years earlier. With her and her partner, we pitched at the Braemar campsite. I showered, and then met other Challengers at the pub. There, with a welcome dinner and some Cairngorm beers, we passed a pleasant evening.

With Thilou, her partner and other Challengers at the pub

It was a good day, but the miles had taken a toll. Walking to and from the pub in the evening, I was slightly hobbled by pain from my lower left leg, near the ankle. I turned in for a comfortable night in the campground.

Part 4 here

The Great Outdoors Challenge: Shiel Bridge to Montrose (Part 2)

Loch Ness (photo courtesy of Stuart Anderson)

Days 1-3 here


Day 4

I was up early, and made a cup of coffee in the hostel kitchen. I had a quick shower, given that I likely would not get another chance for a day or two, and then changed into my hiking clothes - running shirt, swimming shorts, waterproof trousers, running sox, and approach shoes.

I left the hostel with Stuart, Lorna and a friend of theirs. We stopped at the Co-op grocery store, and bought fresh sausage rolls. We then walked to the pier on the other side of Drumnadrochit.

We were joined by a few other Challengers, and boarded Gordon MacKensie's boat to cross Loch Ness. It was a calm, clear morning, and the Loch stretched to the horizon. I received a text from Charlie indicating that he'd missed the boat, but was reconsidering the walk because of his knee.

We landed at an old pier on the other side of the loch at Inverfarigaig, and I passed our packs to Stuart, who was off the boat first.

We walked together for a mile or so along a road into the forest. My route headed South at that point, so I said goodbye to the others, and headed out on my own. I was a little sorry for this, as it had been a lot of fun walking with them.

The road through Glenlia

The road led up a hill, and I was warm when in the sun, but chilled when in the shade. Next to the road ran a small burn, and it was a pretty walk through the forest. I stopped after the hill under some inviting trees, and made a cup of coffee.

Coffee break under the pine trees

I continued at crossed through the hamlet of Whitebridge, which featured a bridge build by General Wade in 1732.

The Old Bridge at Whitebridge

I then headed towards the hills. I took a minor road for several miles towards Garrogie Lodge, stopping for lunch near a shed, and then reached a track the led along Loch Killin towards the Monadhliath Mountains. It was a long afternoon's walk, and I passed the time listening to an American political podcast The Axe Files.

View back through Glen Killin

I took the track up the hill, and shortly after a junction in the road, came to a newly built, small shooter's shelter. It was open and unoccupied, so I went in for a rest and to take a compass bearing. Though I was on a track, there were several other tracks heading off in different directions, many not shown on the map (the Monadhliath being an active site for windmill construction). I took my bearing, and then continued up into the hills.

The Monadhliath is a great place to practice navigation skills

I eventually came to the end of one track, at what may have been Chalybeate Spring. It was marked on the map as such, and I confirmed my coordinates with the OS app on my phone, but it was a trickle of water coming from a peat hag. Nonetheless, I found a non-boggy place to pitch my tent, near a burn.

A nice evening in the Monadhliath

It had been a day of sun, and the evening was mild. That said, I was up high and there were the remnants of snow drifts just behind my tent. I took a sponge bath, cooked, and explored a little bit. Above my camp two streams converged, and in one I saw small trout. This would be a long walk in for some fishing, however.

Evening in the hills

Day 5

The next morning dawned a little overcast. I did my normal morning routine of making coffee before leaving the tent, and then packing up.

Morning view from my tent

I took a compass bearing, and headed cross-country. The sky eventually cleared, but there was a stiff breeze. I concentrated on taking a bearing, walking to a feature ahead on that bearing, and then taking a bearing again.

There aren't many distinctive features on the Monadhliath plateau.

My target was Carn Dearg, a Munro, and I made it to the summit before lunch.

Cornice remnants near Carn Dearg

The summit

I then descended, crossed a boggy stretch, and headed to Newtonmore. I arrived in the early afternoon, met Sue (one of the T.G.O. organisers) and booked a bunk. Together with another Challenger, I headed to the pub across the street, and this morphed into dinner with a larger group. Another excellent day on the Challenge!

Part 3 here

Micro-adventure on a work night; some sad reflections

I'm currently attempting to camp once a month for a year.

June was my 10th month. However, it had been chock full of responsibilities, with my wife being a away for 11 days. Also, I was to travel for work during the last week of the month.

So, I needed a camp, and I needed to do it on a weekday. That meant going after work.

I decided to stay close. Indeed, I wanted to walk from my house.

So after dinner, I packed up my sleeping bag, sleeping mat, tent, stove, fuel, pot, mug, and a Starbucks Via instant coffee. I'd also bought two tins of craft beer for the evening, and some almond croissants for breakfast.

And then I was off.

I walked up my street, across the main street, and headed into the woods along a riverside path. Some teenagers passed me going the other way, as did the occasional dog walker. The path led up to an aqueduct, and I crossed over the river there.

It had been one of the best summers in the U.K. for several years, and I've found myself slipping into a pleasant sort of drowsiness, a state I've occasionally experienced on hot afternoons.

After a bit of looking around, I found a good spot to pitch my tent near a tree. I inflated my Therma-rest, and unloaded my pack. Up along the trail a short bit I found a bench to sit on and enjoy my tins of beer, while watching the evening progress.

I thought I had the place to myself, but one dog walker emerged from the trail. The dog came over and gave me a lick, I said "hi", and they moved on. I wondered if the dog walker had noticed my tent, but it was possible she came up a different trail to this point.

Returning to the tent, I read for a bit, and then turned in. It was a good night for sleeping, with a breeze keeping things cool and comfortable.

In the morning I lit the stove, and had a cup of coffee while packing up.

Then, I walked the few miles back to my house, showered, and went to work.


*

I began this blog post at a happier time. In the interim, my father passed away. He was unwell, but things progressed much more rapidly than any of my family anticipated.

I'm still digesting this. But I like to think he would have enjoyed hearing about my camping out. My father was increasingly housebound over the last few years, but he enjoyed the outdoors, even if it wasn't really accessible to him.

I remember him visiting when we car-camped nearby in the summer a few years ago. I think he enjoyed sitting by the fire for a bit, and being near the woods. My sister shared a similar view on a backpacking trip we took together - "Dad would have liked this".

*

I'm back home now, far from my home of origin. The mornings are getting cooler as the summer starts to fade.