Nick goes on an expedition

Last weekend we trogged to The Lake District (when did that drive get so long?) for the annual Silver and Gold Practice Expedition.  The only time you’ll see me wild camping, which is a shame as it’s really rather nice.  As soon as the Moose is older, I hope it becomes a more frequent sight.  The route was along the ridge south of Buttermere and over Haystacks – which Jerry went to pains to point out was Wainwright’s favourite hill.  I think Rambling Mike loved this bit of trivia, it must have made his weekend.  The route wasn’t terribly long, but pleasant enough despite the cadets occasionally trying my patience.  It was lacking a bit in fresh water, though everyone else seemed happy boiling the ‘flowing’ water that had just been sat stagnating in the tarn.

I neglected the fresh food this time round, last year I took way too much broccoli, in preference for some whisky. Actually, it was that Spirit of Broadside stuff, and Mike took some Oban 14 – most delicious in that setting.  Everyone was impressed/appalled when I pulled out the whisk glasses.  I don’t mess about.

The weather held out and wasn’t as hot as we feared during the day or as cold as I feared at night (I took a sub-one-season sleeping bag).  Mike and I even went for a swift (time, not speed) run on Saturday evening, which was great until the sole fell off my shoe and I went over on my ankle a couple of times.  We then had a dip in the freakishly warm tarn and came out dirtier but less smelly than we went in. The rain then set in for most of the night which made next to no difference other than giving me a sopping tent to dry out when I got home.

In other news, I am now at my fattest since my oh-my-God-I-am-so-fat-I-need-to-do-Insanity days.  Psyche remains low, nay, absent.  There are 12 days until Ride London 100 and 73 days until the Spartan Beast.

Teenagers on a mountain. They have no idea how famous they are now

Essential gear

They really do love me