A close run thing...

 In a previous life I have led climbs, the stack in Symonds Yat was a claim to fame and I have also ice climbed, stealing a climb from nature up frozen waterfalls. Then there was a time when I was climbing in the Pyrenees, or the Alps, summiting Mt Blanc x2 and almost getting there another x2.

 Or in another chapter I was an obstacle course instructor for Her Majesty's Navy, leaping over ten foot walls with gay abandon, or getting to grips with the Royal Marines Trapezium Course in RM Poole where those that bottle it get sent home. I'm also a qualified top rope and abseil instructor and an ariel slide supervisor, and lets not mention parachute jumps. So heights should not worry me. And they don't to be honest, its the sudden impact after the height that's the bother.  That's what happened in 2007, a small stupid fall and a massive injury and perhaps a bit of PTSD to make life a bit interesting.

 So today was spent well out of my comfort zone between 2 and 3.5 metres above the deck. Time to put the roof covering on the Swiss Chalet Style Kennel Block. Once the maximum amount that could possibly be done by reaching from the scaffolding was done there was no option but to clamber up and get on with it.

 Thankfully I had a bit of help from Steve the roofer who at one point asked me if the fear had gone.

 As I was spreadeagled trying to access every possible bit of grip from friction at the time I think it was safe to say, no it hadn't really gone I was just suffering quietly.

 The roof is over 45 metres and I had ordered 48 metres of felt shingles from sunny Finland. It looked like we would run out and be half a pack short so spirits were low mid afternoon.

 But soon perked up again when we realised that we had 62 bits left and only needed 44 ish.

 9 hours in all we had left to do was fit the ridge tiles and coax a fat bloke off the roof.

 6.30 all done save for the tidy up and trauma therapy.

 Obligatory arty farty shot.

 Having enough material was not the only aspect that was a close run thing, the weather closed in mid afternoon and when the last tile was placed it hammered down.

Progress! All thats left is the guttering, the floors, ceilings, achitraving (spelling, its the pretty bits around the doors) interior windows, facia boards, electric lights, running water, Jacuzzi.....

Look after it

 There are plans on the jobs list to build a shower/grooming area for the Dolyhir dogs, Berners and non Berners next to the Swiss Chalet Style Kennel Block which, all being well, gets its waterproof coating tomorrow which will then let me crack on with storm shutters and window boxes.

 Until the dog salon gets off the drawing board a temporary solution to bathing a bakers dozens worth of filth encrusted K9's has been concocted. As the RSPCA takes a dim view of owners using pressure washers on their dogs I am in the process of making a Heath Robinson Shower from various bits including an old tin bath property of the Technohermit.

 Now this tin bath has been covering the entrance to his cave since we arrived in 2006 and it has never ever been moved, referred to, used or shot at by man nor beast. So it would be a safe presumption that it could be lent dogs for the bathing of without a second thought.

 So it was, much to my surprise, Techno felt me removing a large waterproof covering to his lair would pose him no real concerns and I could keep it as long as it didnt rain. Problem solved. Happy with the outcome I set about the design of shower cubicle and water supply.

Techno set about thinking things through and so 24 hours later a phone call. "Here!" says a gravelly voice," this tin bath you borrowed, where you going to keep it?"
I pause, considering a range of replies, "Erm..." suffices and buys valuable time.
"You not going to keep it outside are you?" he continues
"Erm...." (thinking its been outside how many years?)
"Make sure you keep its bottom off the floor otherwise it might go rusty and get holes in."
Rem...(there must be something other I could say) Ok...." (success!)
"I don't want holes in it so look after it. Ok?"
"Ok"
"Good"
End of conversation.

Talking of looking after things, the computer kept going since 2003 has given up and no amount of coaxing will make it work so we are hooking up to a new one so hopefully a better more dynamic blog will emerge.

Thoughts from The Apprentice

Daddy, no matter how long you leave me here they won't me join until 2030.

Daddy, I ordered hot n sauce, you expect me to eat this?
(Hot and sauce is cheese on toast with tomato sauce, current must have lunch, apparently a hand thrown bespoke Margarita pizza with two cheeses and fresh oregano just isnt the same)

Daddy, if it follows me home can I keep him?


The Apprentice is of an age where he expresses a view on most subjects all the time. Not sure who he gets that from.....ahem....

Good enough for the Pink Panther

 Back in the jug agane :(
Chizz chizz.
Molesworth fans will appreciate the spelling.
Yes back to paid work today and with it the joy of 476 unopened emails and an in tray as big as my desk. All were deftly ignored in preference for meetings where we either spoke about my holiday or Bernese Mountain Dog puppies. I began to lose count of the number of people who, when in answer to their question of "Where did you go on holiday" just managed to stop themself saying "I thought you were going somewhere nice" when I gave them the answer.

 Yes we went to Durham, and if it was good enough for the Pink Panther, its good enough for us (Did you know the Pink Panther went to Durham for his holidays Google it) .
And what a lovely place it was (despite the one off Saharan fog) with loads to see. The photo police were out trying to stop anyone sneaking pictures of the inside of the cathedral but with a toddler creating a useful distraction I managed to get a couple. This is one end.

 And this is the other. Theres a lot of dead famous dead people in here including St Cuthbert who ruled the world until the Vikings took it off him. At least I think thats what happened.

 We didnt get a chance to go to the castle, so that's next year

 as will be a another longer more informative visit to the cathedral.

 The town square is dominated by this church, very famous for its pointy spire

but most interesting is this massive statue of a bloke on a pony and breaking into proper tour guide mode I can tell you it was unveiled on December 2nd 1861 and it depicts the Marquess on horseback in grand hussar uniform. The 3rd marquess owned collieries in the vicinity of Durham but is principally famous as the builder (not by himself, he had help) of the Durham coal port of Seaham Harbour (not the best place for fish and chips, thats further south, Seaton Carew, the Almighty Cod, but that's beaten by The Cod and Lobster in Staithes and they allow dogs in the pub) which he founded in 1828 (Seaham Harbour not the Cod and Lobster keep up!)as a rival to Sunderland.
 The Marquess of Londonderry’s full name was Charles William Vane Tempest Stewart. The sculptor of this statue was Signor Raphael Monti (1818-1881) who did not, as is often thought commit suicide following the discovery of a flaw in his creation by a blind beggar man who felt inside the horses mouth and shouted that the horse had no tongue and Monti should be burned at the stake for witch craft.
He did in fact die in his own home sat on the toilet after eating too many deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
 Or was that Elvis?

Back to reality

 As it was chucking it down with rain my phone was beeping message alerts from various Red Kite Riders who didn't want to get wet and so I set off totally unprepared for the mornings ride having had no breakfast, not even a cup of tea, wearing the wrong gear, lycra shorts and sou'wester jacket, happy in the knowledge that I would be back at Rock HQ almost as soon as I had left as no one would be brave (read stupid) enough to turn up. What I hadn't counted on was what I now call the Davina affect, where seemingly normal people ignore all indicators that strenuous activity should only be attempted in perfect conditions and so I soon found myself at Red Kite HQ faced with the keenest of the bunch, two of them, wanting to take on Stonewall Hill.

What I enjoy about cycling is that the moment you think you have it licked something comes along and throws a proverbial spanner in your wheel. So fresh from mental hill climbs of last week, some after 65 miles in wind rain fog and hail, I was pretty confident of getting up the fabled Stonewall Hill and still have legs left to dance victory jig waiting for the others. Had I had breakfast, been wearing clothing that wasn't doing me like a boil in the bag kipper and approached the hill with some caution rather than thinking I was Bradley's nemesis then I might have got a bit further than I did. As it was soon after I began thinking what was all the fuss about my lungs popped out of my backside, I coughed out the remaining internal organs across my handle bars, reached critical mass  thanks to over heating and my legs stopped spinning. The push of shame began and I was over taken by the King of the Mountain in the yellow jacket as I fought my way to the top. There we both waited for the third of our group to join us, which was when the KotM gave us sound advice on how to conquer said hill. For me it involved losing half my body weight. The downhill was a nightmare, not because I got another puncture and had to wrestle my steed to a safe halt from Mach 7 on steel rims but because the road we took from the top took us to a point that was 18 miles from the start. After three calorie free hours and 35 miles I made it back to Red Kite HQ where a pack of hot cross buns had to be forcibly removed from my grip.

All play and no work

 The fact that we chose the same week that vast portions of the Sahara desert chose to go on vacation made no odds to us, this was our first week away from Rock HQ since 2006, hence the reason why to Swiss Chalet Style Kennel Block needed to be operational by the dead line of the 27th. Our chosen destination, County Durham, an area of outstanding natural beauty, and thanks to the sand pollution mix, an area that kept its natural beauty well hidden for our entire week. The journey there took over 10 hours thanks to 18 miles of road works so we arrived in the dark, and fog.

 We chose wisely in our place to stay, Bowlees Farm Cottages, high on a hill (in the fog) with all the mod cons needed for a family holiday

 plus a couple of extras just to clinch the deal. The pool/hot tub/sauna and snooker room were brilliant and used every day. Day one saw us head off for provisions, a minor navigation error on my part saw us not far from Penrith and miles from Bowlees and any supermarket which led to a 50 mile retracing of tarmac to Asda

 where the apprentice smallholder chose to ignore time honoured parental advice of "Don't run!" and ran into a trolley. He being soft fleshy organic material came off worse and indicated the fact by spilling vast amounts of blood everywhere. Staff at Asda rallied round and after we threw the contents on two first aid kits across the cheese and dairy aisle we managed to stop the toddler leaking and they took us to casualty. Casualty were brilliant and soon had him glued back together and smiling. Asda gave him a chocolate Thomas the Tank Engine egg as a reward and loaded with supplies we carried on with our holiday.

 Due to head injury the apprentice was banned from swimming, however rug rat MkII made full use of the facilities.

 Mothering Sunday saw a change of location and we met up with the Northern Contingent of the Dolyhir Clan and had a fantastic time on the sun drenched beach (typo, sorry that should read foggy windswept) and the dogs ran about with Rocky and Reba finding their inner puppy.

 The clan met up the following day in some woodland where strange creatures lurked. There were also foxes and jaguar hahahaha.

 The last day of my 40's was spent trying to prove that the years have not caught up with me and I took to my bike and set off with the route firmly in my head. after 20 miles, the majority up hill, I convinced myself that I liked cycling in the rain/fog/wind/hail and pressed on until I completed an 85 mile circuit. Back at the ranch I looked at the map the find out why I had not found the reservoir I was headed for, perhaps it was lost in the fog, but a simpler explanation was found, yours truly had been on a completely different road the whole time than the one planned in my head.

Still that mattered little, the actual target was to get some big miles in and some of the hills in the North Penines are mental steep so I had earned every calorie of my surprise cookie when I got back. Note wet feet. 

 All this enjoying yourself makes you a very tired boy and despite his protests little t who spent ages trying to convince us he wasnt at all tired fell asleep on our way to High Force Falls.

 Little t wasn't too impressed with the waterfall at High Force Falls, he thought it would be bigger.

 This was my birthday outing and when we found the real deal it lived up to the hype, its the UK's Niagara, massive. Birthday treat galore as we went to meet the Northern Contingent of the Dolyhir Clan at a restaurant where death by mixed grill was attempted and failed.

One place we were keen to see was a small port of Staithes which is the location of one of little t's favorite TV shows, Old Jack's Boat, so here we are outside Old Jack's house for the obligatory photo.

We also found a souvenir hat for rug rat MkII and the most impressive fish and chips of the week at the Cod and Lobster which only just beat The Almighty Cod at Seaton Carew.

Staithes also had the first Butlins holiday camp. Actually thats a lie, its an original WW2 army camp thats now for sale and is a luxury bed and breakfast complex. Really.

Back in Durham there was an interesting gargoyle door knocker

which rug rat MkII did a creditable impression of.

Durham Cathedral is currently having a rebuild, in Lego. Its going to take 300,000 bricks to make and they plan to sell each brick for a £1. You buy the piece and fit it, according to the plan, no room for free styling here. The cost of the bricks was £15,000 which Lego made them pay! Tight.

This is what it will look like when finished, only smaller, cleaner and no fog.

Eventually all good things come to an end, so we packed up the cars, Gerry and Miranda were needed to shift all the essentials needed by a family of four, plus two, plus two K9's and we called in at Hadrian's wall on the way back.

Little t thought it would have been bigger. 

This is Mile Castle 42

and this is the puddle created by the Roman's as they took the stone out of the ground to make that part of the wall.

We pressed on home, stopping for lunch in the Lake District (note fog) and got back to the land of sunshine by 8pm. All was well at HQ, the nice lady who volunteered to look after HQ while we were away left in tears, she must have really enjoyed herself, and the dogs gave us a welcome only Bernese Mountain Dogs know how to give.
We had a fantastic time, a big thank you to those that helped us make this possible. It was a real treat and a great holiday.

More pics etc of this epic trip can be seen on the dog blog and training blog when I get time to update them both.