*(or Another Wet Wednesday And We Walked And Wimped-out Wisely)
Three weeks to go until the RTC, and the weather and walks we have done have conspired to restrict our training to a greater extent than in the past 9 years. 8 walks completed at an average of just over 14 km per walk, today’s at 15.5 km being the second longest so far. Haven’t triumphed over too many hills to date, the average climb being a meagre 320 m. per walk.
Yves’ atmospheric pic shows what we enjoyed for most of the walk
Writing this on Remembrance Day, it seems that the toughness and bulldog spirit of our forebears has been diluted, even in our generation, let alone the current crop of GameBoy Warriors, and unfortunately when we reached the drop-out option which I had unwisely offered in a bid to boost the starters, the faint-hearted triumphed by an overwhelming 11-2 majority to take the easy option straight back to Casa Pacheco. Of course I, as the leader had to choose the extra hills and loop that would have added 5 km and another 200 or so metres in climb, and Myriam gamely supported me, but the Dunkirk spirit was not evident among the rest, although there were five among our number that had no heritage to fall back on in this regard!
Excuses ranged from ‘my dog is shivering’ through ‘the Goretex on my jacket is not working’ to ‘I got a lift with XXXX and if (s)he drops out I will have to’!
An interesting variation was dreamed up by the Irish contingent, who arrived together, and when one announced that he had forgotten his rain gear, then the other claimed immunity because he was getting a lift! The memories of Vinegar Hill were still fresh!
Sir, I forgot my PE kit!!
At least they made the effort to get to the start, though they were excluded from the start photograph, John O’ being co-opted as a substitute for the Gorilla Pod, which had unaccountably been left at home.
Another welcome visitor to the start arrived, perhaps not just to gloat at the poor souls who were setting off into the deluge!
Perhaps nostalgia evoked by seeing the enthusiastic turnout will encourage Ian S. to rejoin on a regular basis!
And so, against all the odds, 13 of us set off on a modified version of my original intentions, hoping to avoid flash floods, and bottomless river crossings!
Divemaster: Paul
Algarve Wednesday Waders: Sue (visitor), Ingrid, Hazel, Yves, Dina, Tina, Terry A, Alex, Ian W. Rod, Lindsey, Myriam
Water Dogs: Rusty, Misty, Ember.
Stats:
Total Distance: 15.5 km
Total Time: 3 hrs 53 min.
Moving Time: 3 hrs 23 min.
Overall Avg.: 4.0 km/hr.
Moving Avg.: 4.6 km/hr (very respectable)
Total Ascent: 329 m.
Max Elevation: 354 m.
A recce the previous day with Phil, had not managed to pioneer a new route from Casa Pacheco to link with the intended track to the west, so we had to return to the tested path going through Romeiras’ heavy plant repair workshop, and thankfully they had still failed to erect the fence to the wooden stakes around their property which have been there for 2 years at least.
Be prepared!
The paths were a bit overgrown, and after trekking across country for about half a kilometre, I incredibly missed the narrow downhill path to the valley, and instead, while I had the whole group with me, threw in an uphill loop (which you can see above to the south centre of the track) which was much appreciated by those who were trying to boost their fitness. Rod was the only one that spotted this ploy!
Terry needs a lift...................and Tina gets to the bottom of things!
Hazel having a quick beer away from prying cameras!
Once we had reached the main wider track it was then just the matter of a long slog up a gentle slope to reach the Marmelete Road (N267) which was about 4.5 km away. However as it was a wider track, there were some farms along the way, and while Rod was loitering at the back of the group, Misty and Ember decided it was time to punish a duck that appeared to be enjoying the weather a little too much. They actually had the duck pinned down, by the time the nearest walker, Yves had managed to utter a few Gallic oaths and advance on the triumphant dogs in an attempt to forestall ‘pato-icide’ He even forgot his role as paparazzo, so unfortunately the deadly struggle was not recorded, and by the time Rod arrived to exercise his supremacy as ‘Leader of the Pack’, the duck had been reprieved, though slightly the worse for wear, and it’s owner and his wife had appeared, fortunately without a shotgun.
“Did anyone see a dog over here?”
Rod exercised his unparalleled negotiation skills, and was let off with a caution, though he casually announced when questioned that the farmer ‘was not too bothered’!
And that was really the extent of the excitement for this walk, apart from a banana break as we reached a suitable point in the climb.
Day - O, Day-ay-ay-O
A quick scoot along the Marmelete road in cloud, and we turned down towards Loiro, ignoring the idyllic spot where we had lunch the last time we had walked here, and headed down to the opt-out point.
Lindsey inciting rebellion.................. and the Noes to the left
I can’t go on - my brolly is banjaxed!
Despite my best efforts to lead by example, the lure of hot chocolate and dry clothes at Casa Pacheco proved irresistible, and so the pace quickened as we headed along the valley accompanied by the roar from the torrent below. Needless to say, once the decision to shorten the walk had been taken, the rain stopped and it began to brighten up somewhat.
A proper puddle.
Once drier and comfortable, despite a certain paparazza’s insistence on taking some soft-porn pix, which have no place in a family publication such as this, spirits were soon restored aided by some cake and nuts Myriam had thoughtfully provided....
....while Ian tried to gain some warmth from one of the chillis that Lindsay had brought along for me knowing my predilections.
Luxury lunch - note the absence of beer!
Morale restored!
Finally the complex financial administration of the RTC, T-shirts et al was accomplished mais ou menos by Myriam, but there are still some outstanding accounts to be settled - you know who you are!
“There is no bad weather, just soft runners.”
Bowerman, Bill
“For the man sound of body and serene of mind there is no such thing as bad weather; every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously.”
Gissing, George Robert
