It struck me yesterday that two thirds, of the year and a half I had allowed for preperation, has now gone!! In six months, I'll be leaving for 4 months on the road, just me and the bike/trailer. It all seemed to become VERY real. What do I mean by that?
Well, in the beginning I stated, quite publicly that I was going to do this long journey. It seemed resonable and possible, as long as I looked after myself and trained well. There were markers to reach that built steadily towards departure, and I could tick them one by one. Actually leaving seemed a zillion miles away from where I stood, so I could always back out if I really needed to.
That distant horiizon is now much closer. I have lots more experience and knowledge of what the ride involves, and how I cope on the road. I have sponsors, and some people have already donated, so I'm really commited.
All of us can handle the nice days. It's the crap ones you prepare for. As somebody else said, "better a bad day on the bike than a good day in the office". I couldnt agree more, but you have to acknowledge the loneliness, hardwork, fatigue, rain etc and have some idea of how to deal with them without going bonkers (it's debatable whether I already am bonkers!!)
I've done allsorts of things on my prep' rides. Focus on the effort, focus on something else, sing, stop and eat, take in the view, and, stay in bed until tommorow (one of my favourites, but not too good for mileage!!) slow right down and remember why I'm there. There are many more and they all have a place to play in a four month journey.
The thing is, that as time starts to 'squeeze', I have a million things to do. Shirts to buy and print, banners to make, flags to find, friends to send parcels, fundraising to do etc etc. I try to do at least one or two things a day. I've also stopped trying to find perfect solutions!! Maps, yep, 1-250, 000 OS, that'll do. Distance each day, yep 4 hours or so on the bike and find a site, less if that's how I feel (with a little pre-planned knowledge). Route, yep, turn left when you want and right when you want, if it's on the map you should be able to find it!!! If I don't do this, I will go bonkers before starting.
That's why the planning takes so long for me (and you?) It begins with an idea, all the maps come out, websites are visited and digested, what to take, where to go, when to leave, what to carry, when to stop, how far to go etc etc. It's very exciting too. Then as experience is gained, you grow in confidence to do your own thing, do it 'your way', regardless of the opinion of others, which is, let's face it, quite strong in the cycling world.
So, as a consequence of what I've learned so far I'll be 'winging it' route wise, I'm riding the coast so that sort of limits where I go a bit (barring excursions that is). The gear I've used to date works and isnt heavy, bonus. The trailer works well and I love it, and a new, updated, Teepee is soon to be winging it's way from the States & food will be bought 'en route' and I'm leaving (possibly!!) on 2nd May 2011, a Monday.
Internally, things are different. I'm slowly building up the natural turmoil that is needed to believe you can do this type of thing. Yes I'm already nervous. Can I do this, will I run out of time, steam, money, etc, will people donate?. This is the 'big fear', the fear of failure, not doing it and feeling let down by myself, fear of not starting!! From my days climbing and flying paragliders, I know this fear well. It's needed and neccesary, I can't perform without it. Even in these 'jelly headed' days I rely on this to know where I really am in my preperation, to know I can relax and not cycle, to know I'm not being too intense or too relaxed. It's perfeclty natural and if I didnt feel it, I wouldnt go, simples!!
Mentally, this year has been better, why should next year be worse? I have lots of strategies for managing this too, but lets face it, it's better to be on the road than stuck at home. I naturally relax when I go camping, it isnt stressful for me. Combine that with being on the bike, solo and i can pretty much do as I please. I am learning to listen to and recognise signals from my body better, where before I would plough on regardless, I will now stop and rest, slow down, eat and drink and generally take it all a little less seriously.
My mind is like a shape shifter, I never know day to day where it will be, but I do know that unless I'm really fatigued, I can ride 3-4 times a week and maintain it, because that's what I've done for the last year. I also know that when I need to rest, it's ok, I can stop, where, when and as long as I like. To not do so would threaten my health hugely, so that dictates my life patterns on the road.
So, it's getting closer and closer. It'll be Christmas soon and then New Year. I'll be a year older, and a year fitter. Some of the things I 'have to do', will get done and some will be dumped or passed on to others who are kindly helping in the wings. I shall keep riding, writing and planning, dreaming and thinking, right up until the day I leave. I have no idea how I will feel then, as I've never been there before!!
Please remember, you can donate at www.justgiving.com/Graeme-Willgress
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
Oop, ooer splat!!!
As the title suggests, another crash was not enjoyed last week! It was down to diesel this time and there was bugger all I could do about it. One minute I was riding along and the next, everything went sideways with the inevitable SPLAT at the end. Landing heavilly on my thigh/elbow I slid to a halt yelling blue murder at the person who'd done the deed in spilling said diesel!!! I wouldnt mind so much but all the other diesel patches were either visible or you could smell it. Not this one though, definately not cricket.
As I went inside a kindly lady's house for a cup of sweet tea, head spinning and rather a large piece of skin having gone astray, the builder next door came in to say two cars had just hit each other in the same place!
What happened next was obviously the local highlight of the week as police and paramedics turned up to check us all out and the village suddenly came alive with rubberneckers who came to see what was happening. Not much really, I was on my second tea, being given the once over from the paramedic (who noted my excellent blood pressure and heart rate readings!!) the young woman in one of the cars was hysterical from shock and the passenger in the other suddenly decided he had bad neck and back pain ( despite a collision speed of 4/5 mph!!)
Another kind gent offered me a lift home, and I folded the bike and accepted his offer.
The rest of the week was a bit like the Hartland trip, but worse. The next day I had 2 wisdom teeth removed, just to ensure the whole of the right side was in pain at the same time. The car alternator packed up, and muggins here must have left the handbrake off or something because after a sleep I went out to find the car gone! It hadnt gone far mind, I found it embedded in the downstairs toilet of one of the neighbours. Boy, it had really made a mess of the extension wall.
So, I think I might put that down to being a bad week!
The week after was mostly about dealing with the missing skin, bruising, car insurance, teeth and increasingly sore neck, but not to be perturbed, I eventually got back on the bike and 'hey presto' all of that was put into perspective.
I'm off to the shops now. A lovely 20 mile round trip with the trailer. The sun is shining, and I'm hoping lightning doesnt strike twice, at least for a while anyway!! Take care out there, it's winter.
As I went inside a kindly lady's house for a cup of sweet tea, head spinning and rather a large piece of skin having gone astray, the builder next door came in to say two cars had just hit each other in the same place!
What happened next was obviously the local highlight of the week as police and paramedics turned up to check us all out and the village suddenly came alive with rubberneckers who came to see what was happening. Not much really, I was on my second tea, being given the once over from the paramedic (who noted my excellent blood pressure and heart rate readings!!) the young woman in one of the cars was hysterical from shock and the passenger in the other suddenly decided he had bad neck and back pain ( despite a collision speed of 4/5 mph!!)
Another kind gent offered me a lift home, and I folded the bike and accepted his offer.
The rest of the week was a bit like the Hartland trip, but worse. The next day I had 2 wisdom teeth removed, just to ensure the whole of the right side was in pain at the same time. The car alternator packed up, and muggins here must have left the handbrake off or something because after a sleep I went out to find the car gone! It hadnt gone far mind, I found it embedded in the downstairs toilet of one of the neighbours. Boy, it had really made a mess of the extension wall.
So, I think I might put that down to being a bad week!
The week after was mostly about dealing with the missing skin, bruising, car insurance, teeth and increasingly sore neck, but not to be perturbed, I eventually got back on the bike and 'hey presto' all of that was put into perspective.
I'm off to the shops now. A lovely 20 mile round trip with the trailer. The sun is shining, and I'm hoping lightning doesnt strike twice, at least for a while anyway!! Take care out there, it's winter.
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
One of those days!!
I was intending to get up and cycle over Hartland way for a weekends camping. Sleep hasn't been coming easy lately and I didnt wake until 10.30 on Saturday. 'Oh well', I thought, 'I don't need to leave until later anyway.
After a slow start, coffee, rolly etc I got the trailer out, I'd already packed my kit, and lo and behold, a flat tyre! 'Hmm best sort that out then', I thought to myself and got on with the job in hand. It's hedge trimming time in Devon and the roads are paved with thorns. Job nearly done, I went to remove the seatpost pump from the little bike. Would it come out? Would it buggery! I heave and twisted and pulled and yanked to little avail until, eventually it flew out along with the metal sleeve from the frame, and the seatpost clamp. Bugger!!!!!!!!!!!!
it seemed that one of the rivets holding the pump in the post was proud and sticking to the inside of the frame. "No time to do that today, I'll take bike number two. Well that was a good idea until I lifted it out to find a puncture on the front AAAAAAAAAGH!
Ok, dont panic, you can fix this too. So I did. When I came to blow the tyre up, the handheld pump decided to break. Ever wonder if somebody is trying to tell you something?
Time was ticking on now, it was 1.30 and I was nowhere near leaving. having put both bottle holders on the 'little bike' I had to remove one of those and replace it on the Cadenza, along with the Brooks saddle, oh, and the bar bag.
By this time, I'd remembered the other seatpost pump that came with the Cadenza, so I swapped the boingy seat post for the one with the pump in and finally seemed ready to set off. By now I ws hot, sweaty, annoyed and anxious about the whole malarky, so, I sat down had another coffee and rolly and let myself calm down a bit.
I did get away at about 2.30ish and straight away relaxed and felt good to be going out again. The ride to Hartland was uneventful, with the toughest bit being the hills on the first 4 miles from home to Sheepwash, yes that's a village near where I live where they hate dirty sheep.
As I approached the coast, the number of cars increased, all trying to get to the end of the road as quick as possible.
I stopped and chatte with a lady who was looking after the chapel a couple of miles from Stibbs Cross (I don't know what he's cross about). Inevitably, she asked if I was going a long way. I said no, I'm only going to Hartland (which she thought was a long way!), but I was riding the whole UK coast next year. that seemed to end the conversation as she tried to get her head around that, but she wished me well and waved me goodbye.
Funny, but the front tyre felt a bit soft! Bugger (again, a double 'bugger 'day!). The patch I put on was right on a seam, so it wasnt ever going to last. Still, I pumped it up and continued to the campsite at Stoke Barton Farm. A gorgeous place with its own Tea Room, and reputed mega cream teas (now you see why I was so keen to get here.
Up with the tent, on with a brew, and chill. lovely lovely lovely. "you cycling around the coast then", said a man with a dog. "Not this year" I replied, to which he looked puzzled. I'm just having a weekend away. "Come far have you?" "No", I replied, "just from Hatherleigh". He looked more puzzled. 'Seems like a bloody long way to me, I couldnt ride to the local shop" Hmm, what do you say. To a cyclist, it isnt far, I thought, and talked about the weather instead.
Next up was a lady Shamanist Healer. she was lovely and peaceful and talked about all sorts, and how it had helped her. she had a caravan on the site permanently and came down, even in the winter time for quiet. She asked if I would like to join her and a group of friends later on, but I politely declined as I'd not slept until 4.30 am and I really needed some quiet sleepy time to myself. I did say I would 'pop over' tommorow though.
It was breezy that night, but warm, and despite the tendency to be fully awake and buzzing when I should have been ready to sleep, a peaceful night was had in the luxury of the Teepee with biscuits and tea for company in the long dark hours. The teepee wobbled in the wind and my brain wobbled in my head, full of emotions and fear, anxiety and stuff I had little control over. I did relaxation stuff, but couldn't switch off, so out with Josie Dew to read about her epic trip around the Uk. Josie's writing is so chatty, it feels as though she is writing just for you and I read this, by headtorch, eating cheese and biscuits, whilst drinking a cup of Redbush tea.
Eventually, I fell asleep, phew.
Sunday was windy and cloudy, but on the 'chearing up' side of raining. I ate sausage sandwiches for breakfast and set off on a walk down to Hartland Quay after coffee and another dose of Josie. the walk was pleasant and the views sublime as I approached the cliffs. This is one of the most impressive pieces of coast in Devon, and it isnt hard to imagine ships being wrecked here, amongst the fin like shards of rock that lie buckled and folded in wait. the wind was really strong now as I wandered around taking photographs and looking in the 'naff' trinked shops, bucket and spade anyone?
Most of the people here had driven down, taken a quick look (it was very windy) and then driven off, or, gone in the Hotel for refreshment. Even others from the campsite had driven!! but then they drove to the toilet anyway, because it is dark you know, and 300 yards! no wonder there's an obesity problem, sitting outside a caravan/tent, stuffing your face all day long tends to pile on the pounds, unless you're a cyclist when it doesnt ;-)
Back at the tent, I just dozed and chilled and ate and drank to my hearts (stomachs?) content. About three O'clock, I had to head to the Tea rooms (open weekends 2-5.30) for a cream tea. Wow, is all I can say. This was cyclist portions and they will even put the left overs in pots for you to take away, which I didnt do.
Sunday night was stormy. The Teepee Flopped, and flapped, but didn't flip fortunately. Rain hammered the outside and I wwent to bed with Josie (eer figuratively speaking). i watched the pole dancing (tent pole that is) and listened to the wind slamming into the Teepee and then spilling around the sounds like a clip from quadrophenia. sllep actually came a little earlier (2.30) and I tossed and turned all night, like a mad thing on acid!!
As it dawned on me that Dawn had come and gone, I stayed in my 'pit', made a brew and finished the book I was reading. I love the way Josie Dew is so chilled and doesnt really ever make any plans. That taked a lot of self confidence, but I gues when you are as travelled as she is, you have it.
I did eventually pack up. The rain had stopped and the Teepee calmed down from the storm overnight. I eventually packed up and set off, all mellow and in no hurry at all. at some point, I'd been looking for a place to stop and nibble some food. A nice parking place was up ahead with views as far as bodmin to the South and fine views of Dartmoor too. Just as I got within a hundred yards, a massive lorry came out of an unlikely, small lane and turned into the parking space, completely filling it up!! So, on I plodded, and as luck would have it, an even nicer spot came along where I sat rekindling my 'bannanergy'.
All too soon, the steep hills told me I was nearly home. I trundled up the close and unhitched the trailer. I was so relaxed and chilled which just goes to show that 'one of those weekends' can become a really good weekend, as long as you don't give in and go to the pub instead.
After a slow start, coffee, rolly etc I got the trailer out, I'd already packed my kit, and lo and behold, a flat tyre! 'Hmm best sort that out then', I thought to myself and got on with the job in hand. It's hedge trimming time in Devon and the roads are paved with thorns. Job nearly done, I went to remove the seatpost pump from the little bike. Would it come out? Would it buggery! I heave and twisted and pulled and yanked to little avail until, eventually it flew out along with the metal sleeve from the frame, and the seatpost clamp. Bugger!!!!!!!!!!!!
it seemed that one of the rivets holding the pump in the post was proud and sticking to the inside of the frame. "No time to do that today, I'll take bike number two. Well that was a good idea until I lifted it out to find a puncture on the front AAAAAAAAAGH!
Ok, dont panic, you can fix this too. So I did. When I came to blow the tyre up, the handheld pump decided to break. Ever wonder if somebody is trying to tell you something?
Time was ticking on now, it was 1.30 and I was nowhere near leaving. having put both bottle holders on the 'little bike' I had to remove one of those and replace it on the Cadenza, along with the Brooks saddle, oh, and the bar bag.
By this time, I'd remembered the other seatpost pump that came with the Cadenza, so I swapped the boingy seat post for the one with the pump in and finally seemed ready to set off. By now I ws hot, sweaty, annoyed and anxious about the whole malarky, so, I sat down had another coffee and rolly and let myself calm down a bit.
I did get away at about 2.30ish and straight away relaxed and felt good to be going out again. The ride to Hartland was uneventful, with the toughest bit being the hills on the first 4 miles from home to Sheepwash, yes that's a village near where I live where they hate dirty sheep.
As I approached the coast, the number of cars increased, all trying to get to the end of the road as quick as possible.
I stopped and chatte with a lady who was looking after the chapel a couple of miles from Stibbs Cross (I don't know what he's cross about). Inevitably, she asked if I was going a long way. I said no, I'm only going to Hartland (which she thought was a long way!), but I was riding the whole UK coast next year. that seemed to end the conversation as she tried to get her head around that, but she wished me well and waved me goodbye.
Funny, but the front tyre felt a bit soft! Bugger (again, a double 'bugger 'day!). The patch I put on was right on a seam, so it wasnt ever going to last. Still, I pumped it up and continued to the campsite at Stoke Barton Farm. A gorgeous place with its own Tea Room, and reputed mega cream teas (now you see why I was so keen to get here.
Up with the tent, on with a brew, and chill. lovely lovely lovely. "you cycling around the coast then", said a man with a dog. "Not this year" I replied, to which he looked puzzled. I'm just having a weekend away. "Come far have you?" "No", I replied, "just from Hatherleigh". He looked more puzzled. 'Seems like a bloody long way to me, I couldnt ride to the local shop" Hmm, what do you say. To a cyclist, it isnt far, I thought, and talked about the weather instead.
Next up was a lady Shamanist Healer. she was lovely and peaceful and talked about all sorts, and how it had helped her. she had a caravan on the site permanently and came down, even in the winter time for quiet. She asked if I would like to join her and a group of friends later on, but I politely declined as I'd not slept until 4.30 am and I really needed some quiet sleepy time to myself. I did say I would 'pop over' tommorow though.
It was breezy that night, but warm, and despite the tendency to be fully awake and buzzing when I should have been ready to sleep, a peaceful night was had in the luxury of the Teepee with biscuits and tea for company in the long dark hours. The teepee wobbled in the wind and my brain wobbled in my head, full of emotions and fear, anxiety and stuff I had little control over. I did relaxation stuff, but couldn't switch off, so out with Josie Dew to read about her epic trip around the Uk. Josie's writing is so chatty, it feels as though she is writing just for you and I read this, by headtorch, eating cheese and biscuits, whilst drinking a cup of Redbush tea.
Eventually, I fell asleep, phew.
Sunday was windy and cloudy, but on the 'chearing up' side of raining. I ate sausage sandwiches for breakfast and set off on a walk down to Hartland Quay after coffee and another dose of Josie. the walk was pleasant and the views sublime as I approached the cliffs. This is one of the most impressive pieces of coast in Devon, and it isnt hard to imagine ships being wrecked here, amongst the fin like shards of rock that lie buckled and folded in wait. the wind was really strong now as I wandered around taking photographs and looking in the 'naff' trinked shops, bucket and spade anyone?
Most of the people here had driven down, taken a quick look (it was very windy) and then driven off, or, gone in the Hotel for refreshment. Even others from the campsite had driven!! but then they drove to the toilet anyway, because it is dark you know, and 300 yards! no wonder there's an obesity problem, sitting outside a caravan/tent, stuffing your face all day long tends to pile on the pounds, unless you're a cyclist when it doesnt ;-)
Back at the tent, I just dozed and chilled and ate and drank to my hearts (stomachs?) content. About three O'clock, I had to head to the Tea rooms (open weekends 2-5.30) for a cream tea. Wow, is all I can say. This was cyclist portions and they will even put the left overs in pots for you to take away, which I didnt do.
Sunday night was stormy. The Teepee Flopped, and flapped, but didn't flip fortunately. Rain hammered the outside and I wwent to bed with Josie (eer figuratively speaking). i watched the pole dancing (tent pole that is) and listened to the wind slamming into the Teepee and then spilling around the sounds like a clip from quadrophenia. sllep actually came a little earlier (2.30) and I tossed and turned all night, like a mad thing on acid!!
As it dawned on me that Dawn had come and gone, I stayed in my 'pit', made a brew and finished the book I was reading. I love the way Josie Dew is so chilled and doesnt really ever make any plans. That taked a lot of self confidence, but I gues when you are as travelled as she is, you have it.
I did eventually pack up. The rain had stopped and the Teepee calmed down from the storm overnight. I eventually packed up and set off, all mellow and in no hurry at all. at some point, I'd been looking for a place to stop and nibble some food. A nice parking place was up ahead with views as far as bodmin to the South and fine views of Dartmoor too. Just as I got within a hundred yards, a massive lorry came out of an unlikely, small lane and turned into the parking space, completely filling it up!! So, on I plodded, and as luck would have it, an even nicer spot came along where I sat rekindling my 'bannanergy'.
All too soon, the steep hills told me I was nearly home. I trundled up the close and unhitched the trailer. I was so relaxed and chilled which just goes to show that 'one of those weekends' can become a really good weekend, as long as you don't give in and go to the pub instead.
Monday, 6 September 2010
Planning, plotting and thinking (again)!
Here's my companion from the last Tour!!!! He was joined later by a sheep that was bought for me by a young mountain biker and his folks. Thanks Tom, Jude and Ashley :-)Since the last post, I've had a good rest and are now pedalling again. It's so nice to have achieved the goals I set myself for the year, and in the case of the last ride, exceed all my original intentions.
I've always been a thinker and that process continues as I try to decide
the best kit, the best clothing etc etc, but I've suprised myself by going back to the small wheeled bike and deciding I prefer it to the all singing, all dancing bike I rode for the last two tours.
I've always been a thinker and that process continues as I try to decide
the best kit, the best clothing etc etc, but I've suprised myself by going back to the small wheeled bike and deciding I prefer it to the all singing, all dancing bike I rode for the last two tours.Why's that then? Well, a few loud 'cracks' from the hub gears whilst in the middle of nowhere, and the reluctance of anyone to attempt to adjust the Bottom Bracket made me wonder whether or not low maintainence meant 'low anxiety'. On top of that, my back did it's best to feel like it might let go at any moment from the more stretched riding position. This is a major concern as I stopped riding after a Paragliding accident and previous back problem. There is no doubt that this is a great bike, and very robust, but I wasn't sure.
After 10 days or so resting and just stretching a bit, I took the Vitesse out to see whether I did prefer it and it's 20" wheels. I was expecting it to be less comfortable and harder work. Ha Ha Ha, how wrong I was. It felt nippy and alive and the front was softer and more forgiving. In short, I loved it. I decided to change to the 26" wheel Cadenza because it had disc brakes and hub gears, all low maintainence. Also, I'd worn right through a rear wheel last winter and wondered about durability of the rims.
After 10 days or so resting and just stretching a bit, I took the Vitesse out to see whether I did prefer it and it's 20" wheels. I was expecting it to be less comfortable and harder work. Ha Ha Ha, how wrong I was. It felt nippy and alive and the front was softer and more forgiving. In short, I loved it. I decided to change to the 26" wheel Cadenza because it had disc brakes and hub gears, all low maintainence. Also, I'd worn right through a rear wheel last winter and wondered about durability of the rims.
What I have since learned is that all bikes bought complete will have areas where the producer saved pennies and pounds. I really needed to spec the bike myself with rims etc that would do the job. Before embarking down this road, I decided to ride the 'little bike' again. As it happens, some friends had asked me over to dinner and they live thirty something miles away, perfect.
In short, the 'little bike' was an absolute joy to ride, felling lively and quick,whilst being comfy and relaxed. by the time I'd ridden home again, I was completely smitten. a few bits from Ebay and it'll be as good as new, but with lowered gearing for hauling the trailer. The other bike will now be my workhorse, doing the winter training, shopping etc.
I think it's really important to be able to make this type of change when planning a big ride. it would be easy to beat myself up for being a 'spanner' and buying an expensive bike that I'm not going to use, but that would be futile, it's done, and that's that. it's actually showed me how good the 'little bike' is and I'm thankful for that.
It's also showed me a bit about how I want to approach the ride, relaxed and chilled and with time to look around. somehow this is easier on the 'little bike' with it's more upright riding position. I guess I just got lucky when I chose the bike, that it really is a 'good fit', for me anyway.
And that is how it is, and the reason I chose to do these preperation rides. I'm learning as I go and whilst most of the kit is now sorted and settled, I still have a few things to look at. it will never be perfect, it is always a compromise of weight, comfort and safety, but I'm collecting references each day I'm out there and feeling much better prepared than I could have imagined a year ago when I dreamt this up as a possibilty.
Snowdon in the background. I've just ridden uphil for about 15 miles!!!
Thursday, 26 August 2010
Wales: 728 miles of Blood, Sweat and Gears!! The joys of camping
Hello again
What an amazing three weeks I've just had cycling from my home in Devon to North Wales and back again in preperation for next year. There were more mountains than you can shake a stick at and more metres climbing than I could imagine before hand, which is good because it might have put me off. Seriously, I chose the route because it's recognised as the hardest on the National Cycle Network. I wanted to know where the flaws in my prep' were to rectify them for next year.
Rather than a long winded story of the route, I thought I might write about some of the groups of people I met and observed on the various campsites I used. This is not meant to cause any offense to anybody, so I apologise in advance!!!!!
Annoying dad man ( the original idea was that of a friend)
ADM as I will call him rarely leaves his children alone for a minute. Ultra attentative he explains in minute detail why his way of doing everything is better than that of his offspring. " no, don't walk on the grass like that, it'll damage it. Do it like this" At this point ADM trips on his own shoe laces and plummets down a bank inot the river, his kids in fits of laughter. Not perturbed he stands up and exclaims "Did you see how I did that parachute roll to soften the blow". Very very annoying.
Keep it all in the car love!
Yes, they do, literally keep everything in the car. What's wrong with that? Well, at some point every night and morning they need whatever is in the car. It goes like this. Flash flash (disarming alarm which is truly needed in the middle of Wales), clunk (door opens), rustle rustle, clunk Flash flash. That's not too bad is it? No but they've forgotten something, Flash flash, clunk, rustle rustle, clunk flash flash. Then you hear. "did you get my toothbrush dear" flash flash, clunk, rustle rustle, clunk flash flash. This goes on & on & on. AAAAAAArgh!!!!
OK Corale
This may be a family or group of families. On arrival at the site, they erect the biggest tent (s) you've ever seen. It takes at least three hours to do. If there are two or more, they are erected some way apart. In between these are at least two gazeebos of extra large size. By parking there multiple vehicules, trailers, kayaks, bicycles and other stuff on one side, and fencing the other with windbreaks (at least ten), they create a massive coral that is THEIR territory. Once they've done this they can do what they like because nobody is going to challenge them even if they can get through the outer limits, they're likely to face to face with hords of kids with waterpistols who drench them within 3 metres. STAY WELL AWAY.
The Dingles
OK, you can see where this one's going. The Dingles are a law unto themselves. They get up and sit around eating massive a breakfast. this is followed as soon as possible by lunch, when it's ok to start drinking. By the evening, they will likely be completely pissed and not responsible for they're actions. Dad will probably get up and shoot this son in the backside with a ball bearing gun (yes I saw this). Guess how son responds? Yes, he shoots his father. Soon enough all the Dingles are running around the tents shooting each other, all armed with their own BB gun!!!! Whilst this is going on, the barbecue catches fire and threatens to burn the whole campsite down. The Dingles don't really care, cos they're all pissed up anyway. STAY WELL AWAY
Young Lovers
Bless, we've all been here. Arriving with a tent that is just big enough for a large airbed (that's all they need) they proceed to look totally confused at the instructions until a seasoned camper offers a hand to put the tent up. Bad move, as soon as the tent is up, the young lovers disappear inside to explore every sexual possiblity for two people in the middle of a field. They think they are being quiet whilst every other camper suddenly develops the desire to listen to their ipods!!!
Best thing to do here is to go for a long wlak, followed by a meal a bit of clubbing and a midnight hike up Snowdon. By the time you return, they might be exhausted, if not, you will be, so there is a chance of sleeping without the constant reminder of when you were young!!
Caravanners/Motorhomers
Not at all offensive this bunch. They travel hundreds of miles pulling a lump of plastic or driving one to sit around for several days watching the telly. When not watching the telly. they can empty the toilet, empty the waste water and replenish the drinking water. These jobs take most of every morning, by which time the more senior caravanner is knackered and falls asleep.
When arriving at a new site, much time is taken getting the caravan exactly levl and square to the edge of the hardstanding. This, says the caravanner is a point of pride, and involves lots of driving forwards and backwards, giuded by somebody who probably hasnt a clue what she (cos it usually is) is supposed to do. Once in position the driver releases the caravan from the car and parks this exactly parallel to the caravan on the same side as everybody else!!! Then, just when you think it's over he will make minute adjustments with an radio controlled hand box attached to a driver on the wheels. After a cup of tea, the boot opens and the biggest piece of canvas you have ever seen emerges. This is what they call 'The Awning'. It's another wing, because the 5 birth double axle caravan isnt big enough for two and they dont really want to sit OUTSIDE.
This is struggled with for hours ensuring absollute depletion of the owners energy levels for the rest of the week. So now just the pot plants, decorations, solar lights, tv ariel................................
Ultralight Cyclist/Walker
Weight is the enemy for these guys. Half a toothbrush, half a saucepan half a sleeping bag (you can always put it on the cold side later!!), half of everything. Tiny cooker that takes a week to boil a kettle and precious little clothing means that these people are the more likely to need first aid than any of the above listed due to mal-nutrition, hypothermia, setting fire to the tiny tent trying to cook in the pissing rain etc.
They don't look healthy because they arn't. Camping too close means you will be kept awake by the constant coughing and farting from the poor diet and the failing body of the people next door. Not only that, they will leave at 4.30 am after rustling around with hundreds of plastic bags that get stuffed into panniers/rucksacks to keep stuff dry. Don't even think about going to the bathroom for at least a hour and a half adter one of these people have been!!!
Single Sex Groups
Very very dangerous whatever the sex. Over a period of hours a male group will degenerate into something akin to a troop of baboons. The more alcohol consumed the more you can clearly see the link to our furry ancestors. Within the corale they have probably created (see above) they will stack unfeasibly large amounts of beer and sausages, get completely pissed, attempt a barbeque which later becomes a bonfire and at some point they will run around naked taking pictures of each others genetilia and posting them on You Tube.
Girls,Safe? No Way. The conversations get more and more lude with the amount of wine consumed and the group of what appeared to lovely ladies, degenerates into a howling mass of gossip & laughter. All of the group will end up talking at the same time with no way of telling if anybody is actually listening to anybody else. The laughter becomes so raucous that from your tent you are convinced that the campsite is being invaded by laughing Hyenas, Jackels and the like and just when you think it can't get any worse, they start to play truth or dare whilst dicussing the shortcomings of their various partners sexual ability/genitalia. Stay well clear
Bikers
These folk can strike fear in the hearts of family campers. They arrive on a variety of machines from Harleys to Hondas and proceed to put up tents, Fart and belch loudly, laugh raucously at very rude jokes and all this wearing leather. They take the piss out of each other, nobody is spared and they will build an enourmous bonfire, whether they are supposed to or not.
Eventually they're all completely pissed and go to bed.
If you get up early though, you might see the other side. Bikers heading to the toilets in their favourite pyjamas, clutching 'teddy' or 'Blanky'. There are reasons bikers never open their panniers in public you know!!!! Bless em, they are one of the nicest bunches of people you could ever meet, hidden by shows of ritualised behaviour.
That's it really. I'm sure there are other groups I havnt written about. Let me know
Cheers
Graeme
What an amazing three weeks I've just had cycling from my home in Devon to North Wales and back again in preperation for next year. There were more mountains than you can shake a stick at and more metres climbing than I could imagine before hand, which is good because it might have put me off. Seriously, I chose the route because it's recognised as the hardest on the National Cycle Network. I wanted to know where the flaws in my prep' were to rectify them for next year.
Rather than a long winded story of the route, I thought I might write about some of the groups of people I met and observed on the various campsites I used. This is not meant to cause any offense to anybody, so I apologise in advance!!!!!
Annoying dad man ( the original idea was that of a friend)
ADM as I will call him rarely leaves his children alone for a minute. Ultra attentative he explains in minute detail why his way of doing everything is better than that of his offspring. " no, don't walk on the grass like that, it'll damage it. Do it like this" At this point ADM trips on his own shoe laces and plummets down a bank inot the river, his kids in fits of laughter. Not perturbed he stands up and exclaims "Did you see how I did that parachute roll to soften the blow". Very very annoying.
Keep it all in the car love!
Yes, they do, literally keep everything in the car. What's wrong with that? Well, at some point every night and morning they need whatever is in the car. It goes like this. Flash flash (disarming alarm which is truly needed in the middle of Wales), clunk (door opens), rustle rustle, clunk Flash flash. That's not too bad is it? No but they've forgotten something, Flash flash, clunk, rustle rustle, clunk flash flash. Then you hear. "did you get my toothbrush dear" flash flash, clunk, rustle rustle, clunk flash flash. This goes on & on & on. AAAAAAArgh!!!!
OK Corale
This may be a family or group of families. On arrival at the site, they erect the biggest tent (s) you've ever seen. It takes at least three hours to do. If there are two or more, they are erected some way apart. In between these are at least two gazeebos of extra large size. By parking there multiple vehicules, trailers, kayaks, bicycles and other stuff on one side, and fencing the other with windbreaks (at least ten), they create a massive coral that is THEIR territory. Once they've done this they can do what they like because nobody is going to challenge them even if they can get through the outer limits, they're likely to face to face with hords of kids with waterpistols who drench them within 3 metres. STAY WELL AWAY.
The Dingles
OK, you can see where this one's going. The Dingles are a law unto themselves. They get up and sit around eating massive a breakfast. this is followed as soon as possible by lunch, when it's ok to start drinking. By the evening, they will likely be completely pissed and not responsible for they're actions. Dad will probably get up and shoot this son in the backside with a ball bearing gun (yes I saw this). Guess how son responds? Yes, he shoots his father. Soon enough all the Dingles are running around the tents shooting each other, all armed with their own BB gun!!!! Whilst this is going on, the barbecue catches fire and threatens to burn the whole campsite down. The Dingles don't really care, cos they're all pissed up anyway. STAY WELL AWAY
Young Lovers
Bless, we've all been here. Arriving with a tent that is just big enough for a large airbed (that's all they need) they proceed to look totally confused at the instructions until a seasoned camper offers a hand to put the tent up. Bad move, as soon as the tent is up, the young lovers disappear inside to explore every sexual possiblity for two people in the middle of a field. They think they are being quiet whilst every other camper suddenly develops the desire to listen to their ipods!!!
Best thing to do here is to go for a long wlak, followed by a meal a bit of clubbing and a midnight hike up Snowdon. By the time you return, they might be exhausted, if not, you will be, so there is a chance of sleeping without the constant reminder of when you were young!!
Caravanners/Motorhomers
Not at all offensive this bunch. They travel hundreds of miles pulling a lump of plastic or driving one to sit around for several days watching the telly. When not watching the telly. they can empty the toilet, empty the waste water and replenish the drinking water. These jobs take most of every morning, by which time the more senior caravanner is knackered and falls asleep.
When arriving at a new site, much time is taken getting the caravan exactly levl and square to the edge of the hardstanding. This, says the caravanner is a point of pride, and involves lots of driving forwards and backwards, giuded by somebody who probably hasnt a clue what she (cos it usually is) is supposed to do. Once in position the driver releases the caravan from the car and parks this exactly parallel to the caravan on the same side as everybody else!!! Then, just when you think it's over he will make minute adjustments with an radio controlled hand box attached to a driver on the wheels. After a cup of tea, the boot opens and the biggest piece of canvas you have ever seen emerges. This is what they call 'The Awning'. It's another wing, because the 5 birth double axle caravan isnt big enough for two and they dont really want to sit OUTSIDE.
This is struggled with for hours ensuring absollute depletion of the owners energy levels for the rest of the week. So now just the pot plants, decorations, solar lights, tv ariel................................
Ultralight Cyclist/Walker
Weight is the enemy for these guys. Half a toothbrush, half a saucepan half a sleeping bag (you can always put it on the cold side later!!), half of everything. Tiny cooker that takes a week to boil a kettle and precious little clothing means that these people are the more likely to need first aid than any of the above listed due to mal-nutrition, hypothermia, setting fire to the tiny tent trying to cook in the pissing rain etc.
They don't look healthy because they arn't. Camping too close means you will be kept awake by the constant coughing and farting from the poor diet and the failing body of the people next door. Not only that, they will leave at 4.30 am after rustling around with hundreds of plastic bags that get stuffed into panniers/rucksacks to keep stuff dry. Don't even think about going to the bathroom for at least a hour and a half adter one of these people have been!!!
Single Sex Groups
Very very dangerous whatever the sex. Over a period of hours a male group will degenerate into something akin to a troop of baboons. The more alcohol consumed the more you can clearly see the link to our furry ancestors. Within the corale they have probably created (see above) they will stack unfeasibly large amounts of beer and sausages, get completely pissed, attempt a barbeque which later becomes a bonfire and at some point they will run around naked taking pictures of each others genetilia and posting them on You Tube.
Girls,Safe? No Way. The conversations get more and more lude with the amount of wine consumed and the group of what appeared to lovely ladies, degenerates into a howling mass of gossip & laughter. All of the group will end up talking at the same time with no way of telling if anybody is actually listening to anybody else. The laughter becomes so raucous that from your tent you are convinced that the campsite is being invaded by laughing Hyenas, Jackels and the like and just when you think it can't get any worse, they start to play truth or dare whilst dicussing the shortcomings of their various partners sexual ability/genitalia. Stay well clear
Bikers
These folk can strike fear in the hearts of family campers. They arrive on a variety of machines from Harleys to Hondas and proceed to put up tents, Fart and belch loudly, laugh raucously at very rude jokes and all this wearing leather. They take the piss out of each other, nobody is spared and they will build an enourmous bonfire, whether they are supposed to or not.
Eventually they're all completely pissed and go to bed.
If you get up early though, you might see the other side. Bikers heading to the toilets in their favourite pyjamas, clutching 'teddy' or 'Blanky'. There are reasons bikers never open their panniers in public you know!!!! Bless em, they are one of the nicest bunches of people you could ever meet, hidden by shows of ritualised behaviour.
That's it really. I'm sure there are other groups I havnt written about. Let me know
Cheers
Graeme
Monday, 26 July 2010
All ready for the Next ride!!
Well, not entirely, but almost. After a few weeks of being really mentally unsettled, things are at last calming down. I've just a few minor things to do this week and then I'm off again. this ride sees me heading for North wales from my home in Devon, and then back gain!!!
I chose to do this only after I completed the Cornish tour. I wanted to be on the road longer so I could get a feel for what it might be like on 'the big one' next year. It seemed a good idea at the time!!! After the last month or so I will have to 'suck it and see' regarding how much and how often I travel. The trouble with mental health is that you don't really ever know how tommorow will be!! I have had to back off the training rides somewhat to get through, but I havn't lost anything by doing it. I've just been sensible and really flexible about when I go out, how far and how intense. This means I have rested better, even though this has sometimes been an all day- in bed -,sleeping job!!
Cycling makes me feel better. Exercise always has and always will, provided I not feeling really bad before I begin, in which case, forget it, watch the telly, read a book and sleep, whatever the time of day. That is how I manage, it may be different for you, but I'm sure you can find 'a way' that works for you. I tend to pick much easier rides when I can or if I'm away, I slow everything down to a nice very gentle pace and try to chill. If I have a bad day on the bike, I ALWAYS take the next day as a rest, regardless of how long it was since the last. If I'm not brighter by evening, I take the next day as well. As I said, it works for me.
Since I last posted, I've changed a few things. Phil at 'Sat Nav Warehouse' sold me a great GPS at cost, which was very generous. So, I can now be a real saddo and spend hours plotting routes on the laptop to transfer to the unit itself, very nice. I still liked maps, so this is a departure for me and Wales will be the first time I've used it properly. With Tech stuff comes more issues eg: charging. I have a 'Power Monkey' and double solar panels to charge it. The 'Little Monkey' as it's known is great and keeps all my stupid tech things going!!! Why I don't just leave them at home I don't know. Answers on a post card please!
I'm changing the bars and stem for some trekking style 'Butterfly bars'. More hand positions and comfort, I hope. My poor old wrists are still really complaining after the front wheel incident and need all the help they can get. New Spd's replace the old ones, which are very creaky now and Andrew Fudge of Fudges Cycle Store, has given me a Cane Creek 'Thudbuster' seatpost which really reduces the shock tranferred from the road to my back. Also, teepee no2 has arrived from Arapahoe Outdoor. I've used it and it's wonderful. A big, but still cosy living area. I took it away for a stormy weekend and was really impressed. How many tents with one pole and no guy lines would you trust in storm. Great design I reckon.
Gear wise, I've settled on gas. It costs, but is light and convenient over the meths. Pans are smaller and lighter and I have a 1-2 season down sleeping bag. I know the disadvantages in our wet climate, but it's half the weight and size and I have a silk liner, you just have to be really careful with it and pack it in a dry bag. I also acquired a Therma Rest Chair Kit from ebay, man is that thing comfy.
That's about it really. Ready to rumble. I reckon three weeks should do the trick with time out to see friends in Bristol and North Wales from long gone climbing days. I won't be rushing, mostly because I can't, lol.
Take care and stay safe during the looney holiday period.
I chose to do this only after I completed the Cornish tour. I wanted to be on the road longer so I could get a feel for what it might be like on 'the big one' next year. It seemed a good idea at the time!!! After the last month or so I will have to 'suck it and see' regarding how much and how often I travel. The trouble with mental health is that you don't really ever know how tommorow will be!! I have had to back off the training rides somewhat to get through, but I havn't lost anything by doing it. I've just been sensible and really flexible about when I go out, how far and how intense. This means I have rested better, even though this has sometimes been an all day- in bed -,sleeping job!!
Cycling makes me feel better. Exercise always has and always will, provided I not feeling really bad before I begin, in which case, forget it, watch the telly, read a book and sleep, whatever the time of day. That is how I manage, it may be different for you, but I'm sure you can find 'a way' that works for you. I tend to pick much easier rides when I can or if I'm away, I slow everything down to a nice very gentle pace and try to chill. If I have a bad day on the bike, I ALWAYS take the next day as a rest, regardless of how long it was since the last. If I'm not brighter by evening, I take the next day as well. As I said, it works for me.
Since I last posted, I've changed a few things. Phil at 'Sat Nav Warehouse' sold me a great GPS at cost, which was very generous. So, I can now be a real saddo and spend hours plotting routes on the laptop to transfer to the unit itself, very nice. I still liked maps, so this is a departure for me and Wales will be the first time I've used it properly. With Tech stuff comes more issues eg: charging. I have a 'Power Monkey' and double solar panels to charge it. The 'Little Monkey' as it's known is great and keeps all my stupid tech things going!!! Why I don't just leave them at home I don't know. Answers on a post card please!
I'm changing the bars and stem for some trekking style 'Butterfly bars'. More hand positions and comfort, I hope. My poor old wrists are still really complaining after the front wheel incident and need all the help they can get. New Spd's replace the old ones, which are very creaky now and Andrew Fudge of Fudges Cycle Store, has given me a Cane Creek 'Thudbuster' seatpost which really reduces the shock tranferred from the road to my back. Also, teepee no2 has arrived from Arapahoe Outdoor. I've used it and it's wonderful. A big, but still cosy living area. I took it away for a stormy weekend and was really impressed. How many tents with one pole and no guy lines would you trust in storm. Great design I reckon.
Gear wise, I've settled on gas. It costs, but is light and convenient over the meths. Pans are smaller and lighter and I have a 1-2 season down sleeping bag. I know the disadvantages in our wet climate, but it's half the weight and size and I have a silk liner, you just have to be really careful with it and pack it in a dry bag. I also acquired a Therma Rest Chair Kit from ebay, man is that thing comfy.
That's about it really. Ready to rumble. I reckon three weeks should do the trick with time out to see friends in Bristol and North Wales from long gone climbing days. I won't be rushing, mostly because I can't, lol.
Take care and stay safe during the looney holiday period.
Monday, 12 July 2010
Heady Days
When I started this blog, I wanted to keep it positive and light. It doesnt seem right to not at least spend some time trying to get over to you, whoever you are what is like to live with a mental health problem.
This weekend I decided to cycle to the Cornish Coast and test the teepee that Arapahoe Outdoor in America have sent me as sponsorship. It was a typical weekend after a difficult couple of weeks mentally that have seen me reduce the cycling and shut down as a result of events in my home town.
It was a simple enough disagreement. A friend, or so I thought, decided it was time to tell a few home truths to me. The facts I needed to know were that I was well enough to work if I wished to, I was being a 'Namby Pamby' and I was difficult to know, even as a friend as I seemed to get emotional over small things with little prompting. The person who told me these 'facts' has only seen me on good days or part days and I thought I was sharing knowledge with somebody who was interested in mental health disorders.
The result of this 'conversation' was an immediate downward spiral, out of control, feeling I must have done something awful. Long conversations with Doctors and Therapists reassured me but didn't make the thing go away, Emotions ran and ran, out of control that is. I've not heard from that person for two weeks now, mostly because I hung up when they decided to reiterate their feeling over the phone and I said no more.
To not be believed is the worst thing. There are no visible signs to the untrained eye and I have learned over the years to put on a 'happy face'. The problem is that I am now cycling and look in good shape. I am, relatively, but that's physical, not mental. When I cycle, I am released temporarily, from the shackles around my head. I feel, for a while free and able. When I stop, the world starts spinning again.
So it was with this weekend. The chain of events had punctured my bubble. Society had rejected me and I wanted to hide, or so I thought. The previous weekend I went to North Devon and had been ok. This week was worse. I felt so alone and unable to cope that I struggled to cook and wash and all the basics I thought were solid again. I saw my Therapist on Friday, earlier than usual and decided I would go away again on Saturday, stay over Sunday and return on Monday.
Saturday came around quickly and I set off full of enthusiasm. I even met two neighbours as I headed off along the steep country lanes around my home.
After a chat, I was away, the first hill came, and I rode slowly up thinking "it always feels tough until I get going". Maybe it does, but the second hill was worse and the third just exhausting. Knowing there wern't too many hills like this I was soon 15 miles from home feeling exhausted. Should I turn around? Just to sit at home, NO. I'll keep going really slowly and it will get better. My head was stuffed so full, It felyt like lead. My legs felt like jelly, or was it the other way around? No power, No lung power, overheating with the humidity, I slogged on.
I wanted to cry, just let it all out, but my mind wouldnt let me. I couldnt see the beauty around me, just the pain in my head. I wanted to scream, like the picture, I wanted the world to see and for me to be free of it. So it was all day long. I wouldnt be any better at home I told myself and kept going, slowly. I ate, no difference, I drank lots, no difference. I sat on a gate and smoked a cigarette, no difference.
Eventually I reached Wainhouse Corner, a shop to buy food and drink for the weekend and only 3 miles from the campsite at Coxford Meadow. I was totally shattered, but I'd kept going somehow, knowing the weekend would get better, somewhere in my thoughts.
The owners of the site were lovely and I soon had a place to pitch up. I did this straight away, before I really stretched properly. I felt desperate to establish 'home', somewhere to shelter and hide. I ate organic yoghurt, Cornish biscuits, and made coffee and after some time, I forced myself to go and shower and change, the one absolute luxury after any day in the saddle. I( can't remember a day I have cycled when I felt this rough, but secretly I was pleased to be there especially as I could see the clouds gathering and heading my way.
I did speak to a few people that evening, but everything was really hard work and all my remaining energy went into cooking etc. Bed was bliss. This is my safe place at home, where I hide away until the bogeyman goes away. I try to replicate this in the tent. The Teepee is huge, 12 feet across the base and chosen deliberately as it gives me a real home space for me, the cycle and trailer.
I was too tired to write or read and too tired to even take in the sunset. I needed to rest. It was one of those nights when I went straight to sleep and woke up an hour later. Too hot, too lumpy, too anything you can think of. My legs were spasming in an uncontrollable way and my mind was angry and unsettled. Then I fell asleep again, waking up a little later and so it went on, and on.
The storm blew around outside as well, and the rain hammered the Teepee. It resembled a big top in a dream, seemingly lighter inside than outside, stripey andgently wobbling in the stormy winds. At least I felt safe in there.
Morning came bright and sunny and I brewed a coffee from my sleeping bag. I was in stage two now, an absolute soup like daze from which I was trying to rouse myself. Quite a long time later, I forced myself up and decided to head for the beach hoping the ubiquitous Cafe would be there. I struck gold and the choice was two Cafe's. I chose the more modern one and sat outside with more coffee and a paper. My mind had now woken up and it told me that my body felt like it had been kicked all over. Everything ached and hurt and I felt like I had cycled for the first time. I knew this feeling and knew it was not the physical effort of the cycling, but the exhaustion of emotional termoil. I spent a good while there, eventually walking on the beach, watching the young surfers at the surf-school. People were everywhere, families and couples, people with dogs etc, all enjoying the sun.
The tiredness that overan me sent me back to the campsite up the hill from Crackington Haven. I move slowly like a much older person. On arrival, it was really quiet, flapping back the large doors on the teepee, I created a lovely funnel for the breeze to blow through. I lay down and slept. This was how the rest of the day was. I'd sleep for a while, eat, drink and sleep. Later on I read some of the book I had taken and slowly, slowly slowly, life began to return.
By the evening, I was feeling fine again. My head was strong and all the aches had disappeared. I'm always amazed at the calories I manage to comsume, but I enjoyed a really good pasta dinner with lots of fresh veg etc. People were all back on the site now and I did the rounds with my flyers for the ride next year, chatting and laughing, finishing the evening with shared tea and rasberry/white chocolate biscuits, lovely.
I never rush to pack up and slowly dawdled about letting my head wake up. There was no sign at all of the exhaustion that Saturday brought along. I talked to a couple walking the coast path, and a lovely young women whose brother had sadly ended his own battle with mental illness. A very sad affair, but it happens a lot. I always feel like "there but for the grace of god.........
Eventually, I said goodbye to the couple next to me who were planning there lives together and specifically a 'world travel' type trip, and off I went.
There was not a sign of Saturdays struggles today. My legs felt really strong, my lungs massive and my head clear to everything around me. Cycling was a pleasure again and I felt stronger than ever!!!! Funny things those 'Heady' Days, weeks etc. That was how it was all day. Cycling was a pleasure, as was the scenery, the sandwiches and the arrival home.
I'm not telling you this for any other reason than I want people to understand that accepting mental illness as real, really helps us that suffer. Being open is not asking for pity, just understanding that people like me (and many much worse off) can actually achieve things within our illnesses, but it doesn't make us well. Being able to talk and to be listened too really helps. Having to not mention the M.H issue makes it a deserate struggle. It would be so nice if it was accepted like a broken leg, but that's a dream, isn't it?
This weekend I decided to cycle to the Cornish Coast and test the teepee that Arapahoe Outdoor in America have sent me as sponsorship. It was a typical weekend after a difficult couple of weeks mentally that have seen me reduce the cycling and shut down as a result of events in my home town.
It was a simple enough disagreement. A friend, or so I thought, decided it was time to tell a few home truths to me. The facts I needed to know were that I was well enough to work if I wished to, I was being a 'Namby Pamby' and I was difficult to know, even as a friend as I seemed to get emotional over small things with little prompting. The person who told me these 'facts' has only seen me on good days or part days and I thought I was sharing knowledge with somebody who was interested in mental health disorders.
The result of this 'conversation' was an immediate downward spiral, out of control, feeling I must have done something awful. Long conversations with Doctors and Therapists reassured me but didn't make the thing go away, Emotions ran and ran, out of control that is. I've not heard from that person for two weeks now, mostly because I hung up when they decided to reiterate their feeling over the phone and I said no more.
To not be believed is the worst thing. There are no visible signs to the untrained eye and I have learned over the years to put on a 'happy face'. The problem is that I am now cycling and look in good shape. I am, relatively, but that's physical, not mental. When I cycle, I am released temporarily, from the shackles around my head. I feel, for a while free and able. When I stop, the world starts spinning again.
So it was with this weekend. The chain of events had punctured my bubble. Society had rejected me and I wanted to hide, or so I thought. The previous weekend I went to North Devon and had been ok. This week was worse. I felt so alone and unable to cope that I struggled to cook and wash and all the basics I thought were solid again. I saw my Therapist on Friday, earlier than usual and decided I would go away again on Saturday, stay over Sunday and return on Monday.
Saturday came around quickly and I set off full of enthusiasm. I even met two neighbours as I headed off along the steep country lanes around my home.
After a chat, I was away, the first hill came, and I rode slowly up thinking "it always feels tough until I get going". Maybe it does, but the second hill was worse and the third just exhausting. Knowing there wern't too many hills like this I was soon 15 miles from home feeling exhausted. Should I turn around? Just to sit at home, NO. I'll keep going really slowly and it will get better. My head was stuffed so full, It felyt like lead. My legs felt like jelly, or was it the other way around? No power, No lung power, overheating with the humidity, I slogged on.
I wanted to cry, just let it all out, but my mind wouldnt let me. I couldnt see the beauty around me, just the pain in my head. I wanted to scream, like the picture, I wanted the world to see and for me to be free of it. So it was all day long. I wouldnt be any better at home I told myself and kept going, slowly. I ate, no difference, I drank lots, no difference. I sat on a gate and smoked a cigarette, no difference.
Eventually I reached Wainhouse Corner, a shop to buy food and drink for the weekend and only 3 miles from the campsite at Coxford Meadow. I was totally shattered, but I'd kept going somehow, knowing the weekend would get better, somewhere in my thoughts.
The owners of the site were lovely and I soon had a place to pitch up. I did this straight away, before I really stretched properly. I felt desperate to establish 'home', somewhere to shelter and hide. I ate organic yoghurt, Cornish biscuits, and made coffee and after some time, I forced myself to go and shower and change, the one absolute luxury after any day in the saddle. I( can't remember a day I have cycled when I felt this rough, but secretly I was pleased to be there especially as I could see the clouds gathering and heading my way.
I did speak to a few people that evening, but everything was really hard work and all my remaining energy went into cooking etc. Bed was bliss. This is my safe place at home, where I hide away until the bogeyman goes away. I try to replicate this in the tent. The Teepee is huge, 12 feet across the base and chosen deliberately as it gives me a real home space for me, the cycle and trailer.
I was too tired to write or read and too tired to even take in the sunset. I needed to rest. It was one of those nights when I went straight to sleep and woke up an hour later. Too hot, too lumpy, too anything you can think of. My legs were spasming in an uncontrollable way and my mind was angry and unsettled. Then I fell asleep again, waking up a little later and so it went on, and on.
The storm blew around outside as well, and the rain hammered the Teepee. It resembled a big top in a dream, seemingly lighter inside than outside, stripey andgently wobbling in the stormy winds. At least I felt safe in there.
Morning came bright and sunny and I brewed a coffee from my sleeping bag. I was in stage two now, an absolute soup like daze from which I was trying to rouse myself. Quite a long time later, I forced myself up and decided to head for the beach hoping the ubiquitous Cafe would be there. I struck gold and the choice was two Cafe's. I chose the more modern one and sat outside with more coffee and a paper. My mind had now woken up and it told me that my body felt like it had been kicked all over. Everything ached and hurt and I felt like I had cycled for the first time. I knew this feeling and knew it was not the physical effort of the cycling, but the exhaustion of emotional termoil. I spent a good while there, eventually walking on the beach, watching the young surfers at the surf-school. People were everywhere, families and couples, people with dogs etc, all enjoying the sun.
The tiredness that overan me sent me back to the campsite up the hill from Crackington Haven. I move slowly like a much older person. On arrival, it was really quiet, flapping back the large doors on the teepee, I created a lovely funnel for the breeze to blow through. I lay down and slept. This was how the rest of the day was. I'd sleep for a while, eat, drink and sleep. Later on I read some of the book I had taken and slowly, slowly slowly, life began to return.
By the evening, I was feeling fine again. My head was strong and all the aches had disappeared. I'm always amazed at the calories I manage to comsume, but I enjoyed a really good pasta dinner with lots of fresh veg etc. People were all back on the site now and I did the rounds with my flyers for the ride next year, chatting and laughing, finishing the evening with shared tea and rasberry/white chocolate biscuits, lovely.
I never rush to pack up and slowly dawdled about letting my head wake up. There was no sign at all of the exhaustion that Saturday brought along. I talked to a couple walking the coast path, and a lovely young women whose brother had sadly ended his own battle with mental illness. A very sad affair, but it happens a lot. I always feel like "there but for the grace of god.........
Eventually, I said goodbye to the couple next to me who were planning there lives together and specifically a 'world travel' type trip, and off I went.
There was not a sign of Saturdays struggles today. My legs felt really strong, my lungs massive and my head clear to everything around me. Cycling was a pleasure again and I felt stronger than ever!!!! Funny things those 'Heady' Days, weeks etc. That was how it was all day. Cycling was a pleasure, as was the scenery, the sandwiches and the arrival home.
I'm not telling you this for any other reason than I want people to understand that accepting mental illness as real, really helps us that suffer. Being open is not asking for pity, just understanding that people like me (and many much worse off) can actually achieve things within our illnesses, but it doesn't make us well. Being able to talk and to be listened too really helps. Having to not mention the M.H issue makes it a deserate struggle. It would be so nice if it was accepted like a broken leg, but that's a dream, isn't it?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)