It's an early start for a day off. My precious bed, so warm and cosy, especially during the cold winter months needs to be left behind for another 18 hours or so as I make my way to the bathroom and stare weary eyed into the mirror hoping that the red-eyed monster I see before me will miraculously turn into something that vaguely resembles a healthy, vibrant human being.
A splash of icy cold water, that'll should do it! Open tap....gather H20 in cupped hands....throw it over face.....! Nope, that didn't work! Still look like a mongrel cross between an incurable insomniac and Kryten from Red Dwarf. Give it up Tim, you're a classic walking advert for Olay's 7 signs of ageing. (And why you shouldn't watch trash TV until 3am!)
Kitchen bound now, with only one eye open, and the other struggling to adjust to the brightly spot-lit corridor I create en-route to the Kitchen, towards that catalyst of life - The Kettle! You could blindfold me, spin me around 100 times and (after I've been sick) I'd still find the tea caddy, the semi-skimmed and a bowl of the sweet white stuff. Tetley, white with 2! The only way to wake up and prepare the mind, body, soul (and eyelids) for the day ahead.
Cuddling my favourite "meerkat" mug, (it tastes better in that one) and sporting a pair of paint-covered tracky-bottoms that lie permanently beside my bed like a loyal border collie, the sofa beckons. Carefully avoiding the empty wine glass standing precariously in the same position it was left 5 hours earlier, turn on laptop, turn on 24-hour news channel, turn on "mute" button. It's too early for voices! Even the one's in my head, who are still tucked up under the
15-tog. Time to check the weather, via the plethora of websites available to the novice walker that will indicate where the best visibility is to be found in Lakeland today. The overview indicates that the North & Eastern fells will enjoy the better of the weather today, whereas my favourite fells located in the Central and Western areas are likely to suffer lower clouds, poor visibility and a higher chance of precipitation. Call me a softy, but I'll always go for the clearer, drier option, should it present itself.
I'm walking on my own today so that will normally point me in the direction of a walk that already exists in my head as well as on the Ordnance Survey. This "safer" strategy should hopefully prevent any panic attacks should the weather turn really sour and the paths and cairns disappear into a sea of fog and monotone mayhem. Been caught out like that too many times before, and although confidence improves with experience, there's nothing quite as frightening as standing 3000ft above sea level wondering how close you are to a 500ft sheer-drop to a desolate valley bottom. The voices in the head really start shouting then, as do the bowels!
Route is chosen, so it's time to gather the inventory for the day. Tea's gone down a treat, both eyes are now open, so off to the spare room which houses the "outdoor" wardrobe. Full of every single brand of every type of outdoor gear that I've ever purchased, I'm faced with a monumental, and to be perfectly honest - a too larger choice of walking attire. Despite this, I still opt for the old favourites. I'm so brand loyal, and swap the tracky bottoms for the Black Berghaus pants and the Ronhill super skin-tight upper-body base layer. "Super skin tight?" I hear you say to yourself! Really? Are you sure Tim? Aren't you a bit...well....you know....erm "too rounded" to be wearing something like that? Oh yes I'm sure, as it's so tight it acts like a girdle around my Rioja-belly, and my highly under-utilised love handles seem to disappear altogether. So, you could say that this is a magic top, and until the day that it resembles chain-mail more than a walking top, and providing it's (moderately) clean, I will wear it at every opportunity in the fells. You never know, I might meet the girl of my dreams on a fell-top, and wouldn't want her thinking to herself how "Sweaty Baldy Chubby Chops" managed to get his strangely shaped torso up that scree!
Time to pack the rucksack. This ritual is a bit like a scaled down version of the holiday suitcase scenario us Brits are all guilty of. Come on, admit it! We pack way too much! We're only ever going to wear about 20% of the contents, but the difference here is that the un-used 80% of my pack today could save my life. Whereas those designer sky-blue jeans with a funny oriental design running down the leg you bought in the Trafford Centre, coupled with the white, cotton "Jesus shirt" are only going to make you look like a stereotypical "Brit abroad" with your red-tinged tan and sunglasses marks. There's a word to describe people like this, but I'm still hoping for a "PG" certificate for this blog so I'll refrain this time.
In to the rucksack go waterproofs, spare gloves, headscarf, and the all important "emergency kit" compromising of whistle, plasters, bandage, pain-killers, Imodium, head-torch, and a couple of those clever little hand-warming kits which heat up instantly when you press the little silver disc in the pouch. How this works I have no idea. Complicated chemical reactions apparently, but I'll go with my theory of "Witchcraft", without the broom, black cat and various limbs from an amputated newt of course!
And then it's time for the most important sack-fillers...The food and drink. Here, the choice becomes more difficult, however this is confined to a) type of soup, b) sandwich filling, and c) which chocolate bars to pack. However, the latter choice is normally determined by the special offers on display in Sainsbury's that week. Penguins and Rocky bars seem to be promoted most aggressively via the classic 2-4-1 offers, so they have found their way into the Tupperware box on most occasions recently. As for beverages, well, the Camelbak is always stocked to the brim with a sweet mix of half lucozade sport, half cordial and water. A pure 100% isotonic drinking bladder causes major fluctuations in energy levels over a long walk, and sugar-induced hysteria at times, so a little H20 soon sorted that problem. But there's still room for one more beverage. A little "treat" shall we call it, in the form of a Hip-flask. Not containing any old unwanted festive liquor though, but a good helping of Champagne Cognac. Trust me, as rewards go, there's no better. The slightest sip of this "smooth-as-a-cashmere-codpiece" nectar creates a warming effect that no chemical pouches could ever replicate. But this is reserved only for the summit. So if you want some, you've got to earn it first! What a great motivator!
One last thing to do before I set off. Another brew, but this one's "to-go" in my hideously zebra patterned thermo-mug. The kind of thing you'd expect Alan Carr to take on a camping trip to Devon. God knows where I got it, but it works, and stays firmly out of sight in the car's cup-holder.
The walk is a nigh-on perfect one. Cool conditions and pretty good visibility all around the Mardale valley. I'm off up a different type of High Street today. No Maccy D's, Greggs, River Island or Accessorize up here. No hoodie-wearing, personality-extracted chavsters, goaty-beard/tattooed men selling 5 lighters for a pound, or even under-age smokers! Just mile after mile of unadulterated fell sides, valleys and mountain tops with passers by who always extend to you a warm "Hello".
Summit reached, a quick hand kiss of the cairn, and then it's time to find a wind-break and have a spot of lunch. A quick celebratory swig from the hip flask and time to tuck in. Food up here always tastes good. The soup enlivens the soul, the sandwiches fill the void created in the stomach by the exercise, and the chilled contents of the Camelbak will always result in a deeply satisfying "Ahhhhh".
The descent always seems to be a solitary one, so when one finds oneself facing an hour of joint-crunching steps down 2000ft of fell side, one always turns on the music player of one's phone. A bit of classical will do just nicely. Nothing like Elgar's stirring "Nimrod" to make you feel at one with nature.
Back at the car, its a quick change of shoes and then the long drive home, and time to ponder and reminisce about today's walk. The sun sinks towards the uppermost land masses and the last few moments behind the wheel are as pleasurable as one could ever hope for. The body feels good after the workout, but more importantly the mind is calm, composed and rested, ready for another week at work.
Just one more tradition to finish off the day. Bathtime! Filled to the brim, radox bubbles emulating a miniature version of the foam-parties I used to frequent as a twenty-something, only this time the music is a little less "intense". A bit more classical in the background, very large glass of chilled sauvignon and then its lie back and exhale. Wonderful!
The clocks have now gone forward, spring is in the air at last and the training for Kiliman-Ronan-Keating-Jaro can now step up another gear. Lots of walks planned for Amanda, Nichola and myself, and also the possibility of meeting some fellow volunteers as we draw closer to the summer. Fundraising steps up a gear with the 2 online donation pages all ready to receive your kind sponsorship
The facebook page http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=10150118264585221 will be updated regularly with all the latest news and it goes without saying that we're ready, we're determined, and we will climb this monstrous mountain successfully for the fantastic http://www.childrentoday.org.uk/
Thanks again for your support so far, and please stay with us. We're counting on you
Tim & the Kili-crew
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