that shed is in the bottom of my garden.........enjoy

Impressive abode is that - I quite like the upstairs "mezzanine" bivvying platform with Swiss-style shuttered windows - although it looks worryingly like it's slowly collapsing backwards into an old mine shaft......

in my usual organised manner I managed to sneak in March's BaM last night. Left home about 8.30 pm. This was the fat bikes inaugural ride. Sadly my frame bag and seat pack don't fit so I strapped a 20L dry bag directly to the bars and had a old courier bag for the remaining few odds and sods.

Rode from home nr. Thame to Chinnor.where I joined the Ridgeway. Bimbled along through the gloopiest mub known to man for about 3 miles until I found a nice biyy spot



and when I say gloopiest mud known to man I wasn't kidding...



pic taken this morning before I attempted to clean it with a stick. It was so gloopy my shoe came off when I put my foot down and then lifted my foot

the fat bike impressed. A lot. It slid around a fair bit but kept on keeping on. Clearly I was 'only' riding bridleway - and didn't have big hits - but the lefty fork did a great job of making it feel much smoother. It was weird getting bumps through the saddle - when I'd not experienced them through the bars - as I'm used to. I think this new fangled suspension might just catch on!

3/3

3/3 I really didn't think this one was going to happen.

I've been suffering from a horrid cough for over a week and had already cancelled a previous plan to head out with Metalheart and Dave. With a throat so raw I was actually spitting blood and an inability to sleep I was ready to write off March - and therefore BAM2018.

A return to winter temperatures wasn't helping my mood much but I'd had a hankering to spend time in a small local hut so managed to garner up enough enthusiasm and energy to pack the bike, drive a few miles and cycle the last 4km or so. Thankfully, it was unoccupied. It's really too small to be shared.

P1050010 by Colin Cadden, on Flickr

The hut was built in the early 1950s by Mikel Utsi. He was a Sami (from Sweden) who re-introduced reindeer to Scotland. The hut was built by him using the wood from the crates the reindeer were shipped in. It's been occasionally repaired over the years but remains Utsi's Hut. There's a small sleeping platform, a table and a chair, with just about enough room to squeeze in one more person sleeping on the floor.

P1050012 by Colin Cadden, on Flickr


It's not quite weathertight but I was able to hold the internal temperature around freezing, despite it being around -4C outside. I ate, got a couple of hours sleep then woke up for a bladder-drill just before midnight. I managed back to sleep almost immediately then didn't wake up until almost 6. Probably the best night sleep I've had in a week. Dozed for another hour or so then had coffee, a wee breakfast and packed up.

2018-04-01_11-33-16 by Colin Cadden, on Flickr

P1050014 by Colin Cadden, on Flickr

An absolutely awe-some morning. The road to Cairngorm was a constant stream of traffic. I had to stop on the way past Loch Morlich just to take a couple more photos.

P1050017 by Colin Cadden, on Flickr

P1050019 by Colin Cadden, on Flickr

Good pics there Colin, always good to bag a bonus good weather day at this time of year.
Bam 3/3 for me too last night and looking at the rules (No. 2) it appears that in the spirit of Team Sky and their intepretation of various 'rules' I can claim this for April as well.. Except I expect to be at the Spring thing and will also need to do a bivvy the night before the Dirty Reiver having failed to sort any form of pre-race accomodation.

Anyway this nearly didn't happen as well although due to half-arsedness rather than any reasonable excuse. It was meant to happen last weekend as a 3 dayer in the borders but I ended up on a last minute skiiing holiday instead. Cue crap weather forecast for this weekend making 3/3 in the cold, rain and (a bit of) snow. Departed the house at about 4 heading due west to the Trossachs with a stiff tailwind and a mix of sleet, snow and rain encouraging me onward. It cleared up later so actually ended up having a pleasant ride via various trails, cycleways and back roads to Stirling, then Callander for chips.


One of many good cycleways around Clackmannashire, Dummayat in the background and 1 million gallons of whisky in the sheds just visible behind the trees

Leaving Callander I headed along the south side of Loch Venechar via the excellent cycleway - this is a wee twisty gravel path which is a hoot. I'd planned to bivvy here but a group of youths (with the inevitable fire) had beaten me to the first spot and it was a bit early anyway. The national park have extended the managed camping zone to this area for this year. There were numerous fisherman camps along the road with fires and litter everywhere. Another excellent idea I don't think...

Annoyingly they have permitted campervans onto the forest drive which the cycle route to Aberfoyle follows (they do at least have to pay) and they were everywhere, it being easter. This lead me to pass several more good bivvy spots as I wanted to keep as far away from these numpties as possible - generators, loud music and, of course, fires The cycleway leaves the forest drive for the final climb over to Aberfoyle and as the light was failing the hunt was on for a suitable spot to pitch up. This turned into a model of bivvy spot finding as I passed and discounted several sites in the quest for that perfect spot (which ususally ends up as being an anthill, bog, back garden or minefield) To be fair I ended up in a reasonable place with a view and shelter, albeit a bit lumpy. Tarp went up and I snuggled in (brought my winter bag again, april I ask you...) Had a reasonable night and woke up to the forecasted nice day, in a break with tradition.



In view of the sun, I opted for an extened route through the Queen Elizabeth forest (I passed numerous excellent bivvy spots well away from civilisation) followed by a lap of Loch Katrine and then back home by my outward route.

The best bivvy spot is always the first one you pass in the morning

And I don't think Rule 2 says what you think it does.....

Agree with 'Routes re Rule 2 - taken to its logical extreme that interpretation would mean you'd only need to do SIX last-day-of-the-month outings.

One night = one BaM or where does it all end eh? Total breakdown of society and its norms (*) that's where . There was a 'go on, let you off then' situation last year but it's been clarified now .

(*) that's "norms" not "Norm's", which would have been rather confusing in the circumstances.

PS that's a cracking mountains/lake/mirror photo

2/ A single trip taking in both the last night of one month and the first of the next, will count as two months if you wish.

You still need to spend two nights out.

You could have one trip that involved going out yesterday and staying out on the 31st of March. Rode today and then stopped out tonight 1st of April.

A night out in each month, just combined into one trip.

You could do BAM with 6 trips, but you still need to spend 12 nights sleeping out.

RIP wrote:Agreed re Rule 2 - taken to its logical extreme that interpretation would mean you'd only need to do SIX last-day-of-the-month outings. One night = one BaM or where does it all end eh? Total breakdown of society and its norms (*) that's where . There was a 'go on, let you off then' situation last year but it's been clarified now .

(*) that's "norms" not "Norm's", which would have been rather confusing.

Yeah I got my lawyer to look at the rules and that was his interpretation, cost me £500 but well worth it my view....
I would actually feel cheated if I only did 11 BAMS and was then allowed to buy a badge

Lawyers - hah!

I’ve massively fecked up by not keeping track of dates. There goes another year

Bad luck Dave :(.

Actually I'd heard a rumour that Stuart was going to do another badge which looks like it could turn out to be quite popular - 'Nearly made it but annoyingly fooked up on just month X' .

Na - the next one features the letters JFAAMJJASOND

New to the forum, thanks. Photo March Bivvy 3/3 bit of a cold one. Hoping for Aprils to make 4/4 next weekend.

3/12

A leisurely evening around Grasmere for Wotsits and myself as we attempted to answer the question that has flummuxed humans for generations: which port - the ruby or the ten year old?

You can see from his expression on the right of this picture just how confused Jase was by it all.

If it's crap weather, it doesn't matter.

As they say - "any port in a storm".

3 nights done in March on my Berwick-upon-Tweed back to Bolton trip,
and managed to raise £600 for Macmillan.

One very cold night resulting in a bike coverred in mud being totally frozen.
One night with 6" of snow
One night in a rather strong wind sheltered up against a wall in a mud fest field.

I did 400km over 4 days but with a lot more road than planned because of the conditions.
Sustrans 68 was a life saver as the Sandstone way was a mud & gate fest.

photos here https://photos.app.goo.gl/Emsd8DLY4kmoIL6r1

Thanks to Bob for some route advice. Tan Hill down to Keld was still really hard work.
I ended up leaving the BW half way down & rejoining on the S bends.

One real highlight was the bridleway over the moors from Hexham to Allendale, I was expecting
a total bog but the singletrack BW was a delight & with the exception of a few boggy bits all very rideable.

Good effort to the man above! I just scraped in my 3/3 on Saturday night with a very late start after feeding guests and getting food and prezzies ready for a very excited 5 year old's birthday the next day. Headed out after 11pm and rode about 20k to a nearby wood I thought would do the trick in an emergency. Took a flask and some snacks and got my head down about half 12.



Was a lovely clear night, but I didn't have a proper camera with me to get some low light shots.



Woke up early, finished my tea and cruised home to get back before the wee fella woke up and the chaos began!

fatbikerbill wrote:3 nights done in March on my Berwick-upon-Tweed back to Bolton trip,
and managed to raise £600 for Macmillan.

Did you do a JustGiving or similar Bill? Chuck a link up.

Ooh 2 for rule* just seen Tick
Going to get these write ups sorted...

Ah.....further reading indeed gives clarification on this rule. Makes sense.

Well we left it until even later than February but after work kiboshed getting away on Friday we headed up to do some riding based on the Wild About Argyll Trails. We set off from Arrochar on Saturday afternoon and ended up on a hillside above Loch Eck. We discovered during the night that silnylon bivy bags are very slippery and pitching up on even a slight slope has unintended consequences It was pretty cold, about -3C but that was March done. 3/3.

Sunday we continued and by the time we got to Tarbert on the Mull of Kintyre (cue McCartneys, Denny Lane and a band of pipers wandering along the beach) we decided to cut the route short and headed up the road to rejoin the return at Furnace. By this time it was a bit late so we bivvied on a flat spot overlooking the sea. 4/4.

Got back to the car just under 48hrs after leaving. Didn't have any rain or other precipitation so a good choice. Got back home to 4cm of wet snow!

Bit late sharing but here are my write ups of Jan, Feb, and March. All eventful in their own ways.

I set off cycling from York hoping to get home in two days on my Orange Clockwork with rear panniers. It would be about 200 miles the side route I would be trying to go.
I was very hungover so only set off at about 3pm and it was soon getting dark. Perfect excuse for a nap when you are carrying your bed. Woke up at 10 needing a poo. Continued cycling til I found a pub to poo in. Hid my bike round the back in a car park. Had a pint with some dudes who were clearly off their nut on pills. Went back to bike to find the car park had been locked up for the night with my bike inside. Secure I guess. Climbed over the 3m fence and set up camp like a proper two-wheeled-tramp hidden behind a van. There was a clock tower chiming every quarter of an hour. Handy as I didn’t have a watch, a pain for sleeping tho.
Kept hoping the car park would be opened up super early but as 7 hit I got bored and had had enough sleep so planned my escape. I took everything off my bike and put it on a two metre pile of car tyres conveniently placed as if it was a video game. I then climbed up myself, posted the bike over the metal railings another metre up to balance on the brick wall supporting it, then hopped over after. Repeated the process with the rest of the stuff and swung down a tree to complete my escape. A mess but a rather successful one.
Cycled round all day over the fresh ice. Smashing puddles with your front wheel makes such a satisfying sound but it is a dangerous game of splat or slip. Made it to just outside Sheffield before needing another nap. The spot ended being off a bridal way by the motorway so very noisy. Woke up in the middle of darkness no clue of the time, but felt well slept so fired up the lights and set off. Was raw cold. The mud had frozen my front derailleur in middle gear, just when I needed it for all the hills. Made it to near Sheffield and found the time to be 11pm. Now getting the last train home was a possibility. I arrived to a locked up station, shame. Wandered around vaguely looking for a chippy still open, found a signpost for national cycle route 6, this went Sheffield to Derby. That will do! Soon enough it started saying Peak District and I realised I was going in the wrong direction, as this path connects to Manchester. Could not be arsed with the city centre again so I committed to the Peak District, much nicer than Birmingham really. It was now getting too cold to cycle, even in all my layers. Woke up to be licked with frost round the hood of my sleeping bag, the bivi, and all of the surrounding hills, but toasty enough inside. At least while being bloody freezing the frost is beautiful. After almost forever I found a nice pub to serve me a cuppa. Rates as one of the iconic and best cuppas of my life, up there with the post dissertation one. This time shivering from cold rather than stress. Took the road to hopefully the next village to find a train. How wrong I was. I had taken an A road across the Peak District. Three gruelling hours later I was frozen at the top of a hill begged a lady in her car for good news. 3 miles away, all downhill. Such a bliss downhill it was as well. Known as the Snakes Pass with gradient ranging from 7-12%. I ended up at a place called Glossop but it was all about the journey. Found a pub. Ate lots. Waited for the train to Manchester then eventually home. Not as planned but as they say you are only lost if you don’t want to be where you are.

February
Planned a loop around NRCs to the sea after work on Friday. Set off lights blazing after diner thinking just shy of Dolgellau before sleep. Out of the darkness of dull tarmacked roads the bikepacking gods sent me a sign. As is the flexibility of having your bedroom, kitchen, and all your favourite toys strapped to you my plans changed just like that. I was following this mysterious rowdy cyclist and his nobbly tyres. I was new to the area and this was my exploring. Turns out I had stumbled upon the ClimachX loop built and maintained by the active Dyfi mountain bike group. I broke the back of the climbing before pitching up on a scrap of flat ground. I sipped my flask of tea, gazing up and the clear sky with its infinite stars above thinking this is the life. Chuckling at how wrong the weather forecaster was with heavy rain.

I was rudely awoken at 1am by a cold wet slap in the face. Buckets of water had already gushed through the stargazing port of my bivi bag, saturating my sleeping bag. Luckily I do not have a big fancy inflatable sleeping mat else I would be taking an involuntary ride on the log flume as a river gushed down the hill. At least I had been sleeping in all of my clothes including a Buffalo big face so was remarkably warm while wet so thought f@&£ it, drew the chord on my bivi bag and rolled over out of the worst of the puddle and went back to sleep until dawn.

Properly piss wet through I wrang out my sleeping bag and each item of clothing before hopping on my bike and pedalling frantically up the hill to warm myself back up. By the first hill I had stripped off both my fleeces and by the second I removed my base layer to go raw Buffalo. This was in the absolute pissing wet rain probably close to freezing. I felt so alive!

And the riding, oh the riding was so good. The sense of speed I got glancing the golf ball sized raindrops out of my peripheral vision. The icy wind on my cheeks resisting my every move. Only the sound of my front wheel carving up the virgin snow broke the silence of this perfect dawn.

A lot of people, myself included, moan about the rain, and yes I couldn’t leisurely stop to take any photos and had to push up any inclines as I had no traction whatsoever, but being stuck out bikepacking forced me to embrace it in all of its biblical glory and it was bloody brilliant!

March
This month had been riddled with issues right until the end when I decided f£&@ it let’s just go. Had tried to go to Llanidloes adventure film night, but it was cancelled due to the snow, had gone to the beach, only to return the same night as I realised a sleeping mat is worth its weight and my grand finale was cut short as I left my pump at my parents. Three day wilderness epic without a pump felt foolish even for me so a short loop from the door on Friday 30th it would have to be.

Muddled together some bridalways wiggling Southish, scribbled directions at turning points in my notebook, packed bike up and set off. I have to say Wales truly is stunning. If their chippies has scallops, I would say it is my favourite place on Earth (if anyone can prove me wrong on this please do) The newborn lambs were clumbsily hopping after their mother’s. I was riding in short sleeves, dare I say it? Spring had finally broken free of winters harsh grip. Rolling down the smith grassy fields reminded me of those long evenings as a child messing around on a campsite on my bike as my parents drank wine from a box.

Given a cloudy forecast and no space on my bike I had decided to wing it without a tarp so was relieved to find a sneaky bed shaped platform tucked under a bridge. The red sky was reflected by the river adding to the magic of the evening.

After sleeping early I woke at 5 to the ever so familiar pitter-patter of rain. “Knowing” there was none forecast and smug in my “waterproof” shelter I decided to read my book until this small shower passed. An hour later I realised these two mistakes. Some persistent dripping had soaked my sleeping bag and filled my boots. Grim.

Climbing the fire track up the mountain the rain turned to snow, then heavy snow, then heavy horizontal snow at which point I hid inside some dense timber plantation. Curled up in my damp sleeping bag I regretted not bringing my stove for an emergency cuppa in a situation exactly like this. Colder than when I had gotten in, I emerged from my hole to sunlight and views of snow tipped mountains. At least it was only my mood that was deflated and not my tyres. That would have lead to much swearing and gnashing of teeth. Made my way home along some slatey natural double track and through too many puddles to a nice warm shower and cup of tea.
Have some very mediocre photos of this trip but it is a faff getting them from my camera and also resizing them so they will have to stay there.

I realise I get carried away in the romanticism of it all and the trips have been less haphazard than the stories portray, but that’s all part of the fun writing them up to make the mundane seem extreme

Looks like Mike's got competition

but that’s all part of the fun writing them up to make the mundane seem extreme

While none of us are climbing Everest and sledging back down atop a dishwasher - it's never mundane. The world outside can only ever be mundane if viewed through blinkered eyes.

Bearbonesnorm wrote: While none of us are climbing Everest and sledging back down atop a dishwasher - it's never mundane. The world outside can only ever be mundane if viewed through blinkered eyes.

Often the eyes are more than blinkered Stu. More often than not, they are closed...

What we, and those we associate with consider normal and routine, the majority of people still find strange, unusual and weird. It's a shame, but true. The upside of this is that there is more room outside for us!

That doesn't mean we shouldn't encourage others to get outside though...

It's a tonic I tell you!

Si