Preparing the boat and the journey to and from the race will undoubtedly be as great a challenge as the row itself. It is also the facet of this expedition that cannot be done by those of us in the boat alone.
To that end I have started to seek out the support of friends whose loyalty, enthusiasm and staying power I know I can count on, but who also have particular skills that we need to make this a success.
Paul whom I have known since I was five is an accountant. He’s a dead cert when it comes to advice on finance and is a huge bonus to be able to nail down so early on. Mind you given that I have been talking to him about this for the past 6 years at least, he’s not exactly new to the idea.
Linda, who works with me is a brilliant administrator, facilitator and organiser and has experience in media and graphics. I couldn’t get over how quickly she bought into this idea. She already has a print of the boat stuck to the wall behind her desk. (Already defaced by my crab fat colleague, Rob, who in deference to my Naval heritage has added a couple of torpedoes and a forward deck mounted gun!) She read Debra Veal’s book, ‘Alone’ in two days and ‘got it’ instantly.
She has taken on the role of interim banker, whilst I wait to decide where and with whom to open a savings account. Given that every penny counts, I have been selling vegetables and my chicken’s eggs from in front of the house. On the target thermometer that she has created on her computer, £50 doesn’t look great against the £100,000 we might need, but it’s not £100,000 anymore is it, it’s £99,950!
I have recently started prospecting on Mark who works in IT and whose kids I discovered go to the same very mini rugby sessions on a Sunday morning. To be fair, you can’t expect everyone who gets excited about the idea when you first tell them about it to seriously jump in the boat so to speak, but he was enthused so we’ll see where it goes. We shall certainly need IT support, right from the get go.
Monday 2 September 2013
August 10th
Since I came back from North Wales, I have been continuing with the day to day of working in the NHS and keeping up with everything that we would all consider normal. Except that now, each physical task has a slant.
I have about 100 metres of mixed species wild hedge and leylandii that has to be cut back every year. On an average year it is a chore but from now on it becomes another exercise for the shoulders and arms to be relished; a small contribution to a greater goal.
This is nothing of course, but until I can get together with a partner or be forced to go it alone, anything I can do at least allows me to move in the right direction.
In the last two weeks I have changed my work routine so that I do four or five hours in the office in the mornings, come home to do some exercise and rest in the afternoon and then go back to work until midnight. It makes for a long day, but this way I get to see the children too and I recognise that as something that a lot of dads do not get to do.
It took nearly a week for my thighs to recover from the pounding they took in Wales, but since then I have been swimming again, out on my bike and running. In the short term I have listed these simply by date and distance purely as a record to gauge my improving fitness.
A friend, Ollie, from Wymondham has a rowing machine that he has intimated he may let me have. Since this is now everything about stretching pounds, I am hoping that his sponsorship will be in the form of this machine, even if only on loan, but I shall have to wait and see.
I have about 100 metres of mixed species wild hedge and leylandii that has to be cut back every year. On an average year it is a chore but from now on it becomes another exercise for the shoulders and arms to be relished; a small contribution to a greater goal.
This is nothing of course, but until I can get together with a partner or be forced to go it alone, anything I can do at least allows me to move in the right direction.
In the last two weeks I have changed my work routine so that I do four or five hours in the office in the mornings, come home to do some exercise and rest in the afternoon and then go back to work until midnight. It makes for a long day, but this way I get to see the children too and I recognise that as something that a lot of dads do not get to do.
It took nearly a week for my thighs to recover from the pounding they took in Wales, but since then I have been swimming again, out on my bike and running. In the short term I have listed these simply by date and distance purely as a record to gauge my improving fitness.
A friend, Ollie, from Wymondham has a rowing machine that he has intimated he may let me have. Since this is now everything about stretching pounds, I am hoping that his sponsorship will be in the form of this machine, even if only on loan, but I shall have to wait and see.
Thursday 15 August 2013
From Llanberis pass
Form the road where I was watching the Siskin, I dropped down the valley in rapidly increasing temperatures and no wind. It was still only 08:30 in the morning, but it would take me the best part of 2 hours to crawl up the slopes of Elidir Fawr.
At intervals I stopped for a slug of water and as the path crossed the stream half way up, I dumped my head into its frigid waters and relished in the relief it gave. In truth I was beginning to appreciate how long it had been since I last walked any distance. A life time of walking, running, swimming, cycling, you name it can soon be lost in the confines of an office. But that's ok. I didn't really expect it to be any different and I liked the challenge I had set myself all the more for knowing that I would have to work hard in the days, weeks and months ahead.
On the summit I met a women and her two dogs running. The second of the four legged joggers looked as old as the hills. I marvelled at their stamina but worried about the effects of the heat and no water on an animal that age. I've no doubt he had being doing it day in day out for years and there in lay the reason why he could and I was finding that it wasn't as easy as I would like.
Thirty minutes later as I crouched against the only boulder capable of providing any shade, I watched as another couple of fell runners dropped rapidly down the hill toward me. The girl looked in better shape and they were also headed over the same route as I. They had made a much smarter choice, starting that morning at Pen Y Pass. From there they had summited Crib Goch direct before doing the ridge and then Snowdon before descending the railway line to a point above Nant Peris to where I had started up Elidir Fawr.
For all the times I had walked across these hills, I had never yet seen some of the more notable landmarks. Somehow I had avoided the mountains most well known features, Bristley Ridge, The Cantilever and even Adam and Eve atop Tryfan. Mostly because I'd previously been so unlucky with the weather, more often navigating with a compass across the Glyders plateau than roasting in a late July scorcher.
From Adam and Eve I dropped straight down the boulder field to the north west and the Ogwen cafe, except that it is being rebuilt and has been substituted in the interim by an excellent food and drinks van.
My weekend in North Wales was done and for two days I would hobble around on thigh muscles that had relearned a good lesson.
Since I got back I have started a list diary of training. I make no excuse for the apparent lack of ambition in this. Rome wasn't built in a day and I've been here before. Endurance training has to start somewhere and I've been here before. It will be interesting to look back at these early entries in a few months time.
In the mean-time I await the return of my possible rowing partner to find out if we can really get started on the Atlantic 2017 bid.
At intervals I stopped for a slug of water and as the path crossed the stream half way up, I dumped my head into its frigid waters and relished in the relief it gave. In truth I was beginning to appreciate how long it had been since I last walked any distance. A life time of walking, running, swimming, cycling, you name it can soon be lost in the confines of an office. But that's ok. I didn't really expect it to be any different and I liked the challenge I had set myself all the more for knowing that I would have to work hard in the days, weeks and months ahead.
On the summit I met a women and her two dogs running. The second of the four legged joggers looked as old as the hills. I marvelled at their stamina but worried about the effects of the heat and no water on an animal that age. I've no doubt he had being doing it day in day out for years and there in lay the reason why he could and I was finding that it wasn't as easy as I would like.
Thirty minutes later as I crouched against the only boulder capable of providing any shade, I watched as another couple of fell runners dropped rapidly down the hill toward me. The girl looked in better shape and they were also headed over the same route as I. They had made a much smarter choice, starting that morning at Pen Y Pass. From there they had summited Crib Goch direct before doing the ridge and then Snowdon before descending the railway line to a point above Nant Peris to where I had started up Elidir Fawr.
For all the times I had walked across these hills, I had never yet seen some of the more notable landmarks. Somehow I had avoided the mountains most well known features, Bristley Ridge, The Cantilever and even Adam and Eve atop Tryfan. Mostly because I'd previously been so unlucky with the weather, more often navigating with a compass across the Glyders plateau than roasting in a late July scorcher.
From Adam and Eve I dropped straight down the boulder field to the north west and the Ogwen cafe, except that it is being rebuilt and has been substituted in the interim by an excellent food and drinks van.My weekend in North Wales was done and for two days I would hobble around on thigh muscles that had relearned a good lesson.
Since I got back I have started a list diary of training. I make no excuse for the apparent lack of ambition in this. Rome wasn't built in a day and I've been here before. Endurance training has to start somewhere and I've been here before. It will be interesting to look back at these early entries in a few months time.
In the mean-time I await the return of my possible rowing partner to find out if we can really get started on the Atlantic 2017 bid.
Exercise diary
3.2 miles and 2200 ' elevation to Snowdon summit 20/7
12.86 miles Snowdon over Cryb Goch and the Glyders and Tryfan 21/7
2.47 mile run 26/7
2.47 mile run 28/7
1/2 mile swim 1/8
2.86 mile run 3/8
1 mile swim 07/08
4.64 mile run 10/08
60.02 mile cycle 13/08
22 miles towing the two kids 20/08
22 Miles towing the two kids 21/08
3.48 mile run 25/08
18 miles cycle 02/09
12.86 miles Snowdon over Cryb Goch and the Glyders and Tryfan 21/7
2.47 mile run 26/7
2.47 mile run 28/7
1/2 mile swim 1/8
2.86 mile run 3/8
1 mile swim 07/08
4.64 mile run 10/08
60.02 mile cycle 13/08
22 miles towing the two kids 20/08
22 Miles towing the two kids 21/08
3.48 mile run 25/08
18 miles cycle 02/09
Sunday 4 August 2013
Waiting and but not waiting
Since I last wrote I have been busy. Mostly at work, where as an Emergency Care Practitioner working for the Out of Hours Service, I attempt, along with my colleagues to bridge the gap between day time General Practice, working through the nights and weekends to provide a Primary Care service to the good people of Norfolk.
But less of that. Everyone has to have a day job.
I had a constructive and encouraging conversation with a fellow adventurer. About to launch himself on a race from the UK to Istanbul, we plan to meet up at the end of the month to check each other out and to head out on the bikes for a few hours. Apparently that's what guys do best; doing. Communicating through play.
I wish him well. That kind of distance in 6 days is a tough call and will certainly set down a marker for me to live up to. There's nothing like a challenge and a goal to motivate though and it will be crucial for us to be at our fittest if we are serious about rowing the Atlantic Ocean in four years time.
I have a long way to go on that score having been lax since my cycle back in 2010. In the last 10 days I have managed three runs, two cycles and a swim and it feels really very good to be working toward something again.
The weekend before last I took on the Welsh 3000s and was sorely beaten, but not. The temperatures were in the high 20s throughout the weekend. Climbing Snowdon the evening before, it was 24 degrees at 10 at night and I felt comfortable in my decision to leave my sleeping bag behind.
The summit was littered with other cacooned walkers intent on the same goal. I hunkered down on the platform and endured a comfortable though surprisingly chilly night before rising at 04:30 to head off across Crib Goch.
The forescast was for a hot sultry day and with the suns rays reflecting off the rock, it was to be a scorcher that sapped your strength and sucked the fluid from you. I thought of the conditions in a small boat mid-atlantic and began to get an appreciation of just how much brackish water I would be drinking.
I carried very little with me beyond some food and about 4 litres of water and some sachets of fruit juice. The water was all gone by the time I was down on the road below Dinas Cromlech and its most famous route, Cenotaph Corner. I was reminded of books I had read of this unforgiving routes' first climbers and of the famous that had since followed in their footsteps on their way to the worlds most renowned summits.
A youth hostel by the road housed an early bird who kindly filled my drained bottles and I headed off down the road to Nant Peris, (Old Llanberis,) and the foot of Elidir Fawr.
Half way down the hill I stopped to admire a beautiful male Siskin as it hunted for food on the wall beside the road.
But less of that. Everyone has to have a day job.
I had a constructive and encouraging conversation with a fellow adventurer. About to launch himself on a race from the UK to Istanbul, we plan to meet up at the end of the month to check each other out and to head out on the bikes for a few hours. Apparently that's what guys do best; doing. Communicating through play.
I wish him well. That kind of distance in 6 days is a tough call and will certainly set down a marker for me to live up to. There's nothing like a challenge and a goal to motivate though and it will be crucial for us to be at our fittest if we are serious about rowing the Atlantic Ocean in four years time.
I have a long way to go on that score having been lax since my cycle back in 2010. In the last 10 days I have managed three runs, two cycles and a swim and it feels really very good to be working toward something again.
The weekend before last I took on the Welsh 3000s and was sorely beaten, but not. The temperatures were in the high 20s throughout the weekend. Climbing Snowdon the evening before, it was 24 degrees at 10 at night and I felt comfortable in my decision to leave my sleeping bag behind.
The summit was littered with other cacooned walkers intent on the same goal. I hunkered down on the platform and endured a comfortable though surprisingly chilly night before rising at 04:30 to head off across Crib Goch.
The forescast was for a hot sultry day and with the suns rays reflecting off the rock, it was to be a scorcher that sapped your strength and sucked the fluid from you. I thought of the conditions in a small boat mid-atlantic and began to get an appreciation of just how much brackish water I would be drinking.
A youth hostel by the road housed an early bird who kindly filled my drained bottles and I headed off down the road to Nant Peris, (Old Llanberis,) and the foot of Elidir Fawr.
Half way down the hill I stopped to admire a beautiful male Siskin as it hunted for food on the wall beside the road.
Friday 26 July 2013
Beginnings
Back farther ago than I can remember' possibly even as an unconscious transition from scouting and a childhood spent roaming the local woodlands of central Suffolk, I have been captivated by stories of adventure.
My bookcase such as it is, sandwiched between a plethora of novels by female authors on broadly feminist subjects or issues, (observation only,) is made up almost entirely of books old and new, on the subject of exploration, adventure and discovery. They are treasures in themselves, currently safeguarded from young tearing hands by the highest shelf, where my sons gaze at them as I have done the summits of rediculous mountains, wondering whether I could ever pluck up the courage to climb that high.
My youngest, shows signs of intent and no fear. If I'm not careful, I might yet lose both the books and the attainment of my long held desire to reach out beyond what I think I am capable of, before he beats me to both.
That is unless, of course, I do something about it. Now, before it is too late.
I have scrabbled around on the very fringes of these worlds and I mean the extreme fringes, hesitant and envious, unsure and yet drawn by the idea of heading out into the unknown. I have climbed Mont Blanc, meandered around the Andes as part of an expedition whilst I was at Britannia Royal Naval College in the early 90s and spent weeks at a time weaving through the valleys and cresting the summits of Knoydart and Applecross in the western Highlands.
A couple of years ago, - born out of the frustration at not feeling able to launch myself on the yet unmentioned challenge in whose name this Blog is launched, - I planned a solo Land's End to John O'Groats, taking in the 3 peaks on the way, because it simply wasn't enough to simply cycle End to End.
I wrote a blog at the time that you can find if you google LEJOG4Samaritans. For those that are interested in that particular challenge, you might find some useful pointers in there. Though I wouldn't lay claim to any expertise on the subject, I might suggest that I was fortunate enough to have picked one of the most scenic and rewarding routes to the tip of Scotland and would recommend anyone to repeat that route. I hope only that you are blessed with the weather that I had back in 2010.
This blog is not about that, however. This blog is about my desire, long held, to take part on the Talisker Whiskey Trans-Atlantic Challenge. To row a small boat across the approximately 3,000 miles of open ocean, to arrive some while later in the Caribbean.
By all accounts, the journey to the start line in La Gomera in The Canaries, is as great a challenge as the row itself and I suspect that to be true. I qualify on one count already, however, by having maintained the desire to achieve this goal for long enough for me to take myself seriously.
This is my first blog entry, though not my first step. I hope that you will enjoy the journey with me, as I chart my passage from desire to reality. Certainly, if the support I received whilst in the saddle back in 2010 is anything to go by, having you along for the ride will be of enormous benefit to me.
To encourage you, I should hint at having acquired at least some support team members and the very distinct possibility of a crew-mate, but more of that to come.
Have a read of LEJOG4Samaritans and welcome aboard. '1 Life Row it' is my attempt to row the Atlantic in 2017.
My bookcase such as it is, sandwiched between a plethora of novels by female authors on broadly feminist subjects or issues, (observation only,) is made up almost entirely of books old and new, on the subject of exploration, adventure and discovery. They are treasures in themselves, currently safeguarded from young tearing hands by the highest shelf, where my sons gaze at them as I have done the summits of rediculous mountains, wondering whether I could ever pluck up the courage to climb that high.
My youngest, shows signs of intent and no fear. If I'm not careful, I might yet lose both the books and the attainment of my long held desire to reach out beyond what I think I am capable of, before he beats me to both.
That is unless, of course, I do something about it. Now, before it is too late.
I have scrabbled around on the very fringes of these worlds and I mean the extreme fringes, hesitant and envious, unsure and yet drawn by the idea of heading out into the unknown. I have climbed Mont Blanc, meandered around the Andes as part of an expedition whilst I was at Britannia Royal Naval College in the early 90s and spent weeks at a time weaving through the valleys and cresting the summits of Knoydart and Applecross in the western Highlands.
A couple of years ago, - born out of the frustration at not feeling able to launch myself on the yet unmentioned challenge in whose name this Blog is launched, - I planned a solo Land's End to John O'Groats, taking in the 3 peaks on the way, because it simply wasn't enough to simply cycle End to End.
I wrote a blog at the time that you can find if you google LEJOG4Samaritans. For those that are interested in that particular challenge, you might find some useful pointers in there. Though I wouldn't lay claim to any expertise on the subject, I might suggest that I was fortunate enough to have picked one of the most scenic and rewarding routes to the tip of Scotland and would recommend anyone to repeat that route. I hope only that you are blessed with the weather that I had back in 2010.This blog is not about that, however. This blog is about my desire, long held, to take part on the Talisker Whiskey Trans-Atlantic Challenge. To row a small boat across the approximately 3,000 miles of open ocean, to arrive some while later in the Caribbean.
By all accounts, the journey to the start line in La Gomera in The Canaries, is as great a challenge as the row itself and I suspect that to be true. I qualify on one count already, however, by having maintained the desire to achieve this goal for long enough for me to take myself seriously.
This is my first blog entry, though not my first step. I hope that you will enjoy the journey with me, as I chart my passage from desire to reality. Certainly, if the support I received whilst in the saddle back in 2010 is anything to go by, having you along for the ride will be of enormous benefit to me.
To encourage you, I should hint at having acquired at least some support team members and the very distinct possibility of a crew-mate, but more of that to come.
Have a read of LEJOG4Samaritans and welcome aboard. '1 Life Row it' is my attempt to row the Atlantic in 2017.
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