Autumn dash - Serre and the Somme

In this year, humanity is commemorating one of humanity's grossest acts of inhumanity against humanity: the First World War. I do not refer to it with the prefix of 'Great' as how is it at all possible to use such a word in the context of that war. An oxymoron conjured up, surely, by a moron.
The map below passed through my hands. It is approximately where my grandfather was at the end of June 1916, as the allied forces prepared to launch the attack that would deteriorate into the Battle of The Somme. It is a map that I suspect he drew but cannot say whether it was the plan before or a map drawn from memory after the event.

The map shows an area north of Albert and the Somme river. The pretty patchwork of irregular shapes is the German trench system. The map is actually facing east and so the British frontline is heading south as it exits the map on the right.

Huge numbers of troops in numerous battalions that made up the brigades stood in wait for the whistle at 7.20 am on July 1st. My grandfather was in the 1/8th Royal Warwickshires, whose target that morning was an area to the south west of Serre known as the Quadrilateral or Heidenkoph, a German stronghold - where the dash-dot line meets the trench system. My autumn trip to France will be to stand as best I can on the two xs marked on the British front-line. Don't ask why - it is just a thing I seem to have to do. Unfortunately, the xs are out in the pastures that returned to cover the horrors of that day. However, I will not try traipsing across farmland to follow the dash-dot line.
Needless to say, it all went bandy on the day and the x at the bottom of the dash-dot line is now the biggest cemetery in the Somme.

New Tent: Force Ten Helium

After thorough research I have finally bought a new tent. My Big Summer Trip involves a particularly long, steep bit and I have made it a mission to cut down my load's weight. In addition, my Banshee 300, in spite of its huge master bedroom, garage, conservatory and general all-round, well-aired roominess, was a bit fiddly and irking to put up. My cyclo buddy would have had his up, had a shower, cooked a four-course meal,read a good book, and polished his spokes by the time I got my guy-lines tightened. So I have been after a substitute.

I started at the bottom: the single skin, dome tents with, as it turns out, their unerring ability to leak. So I moved on up to backpacker tents and came across the two general, double-skin types: the tunnel tent and the sidedoor. Under £75, these all looked great except for the weight. My banshee, although a mansion, came in at 2.7kg and I was after halving that. I extended my budget to include what could be the tents that would get a podium position - the Terre Nova/Wild Country Zephyros 1 and Zephyros lite 1, Vango Blade 100, Vango Zenith 100, Vaude Terralight.

blade

helix

zenith

terralight

zephyros lite

The tents all began to look the same and had virtually the same dimensions. the pack size was a selling point too as short and fat was better than long and thin as the whole cabouche would be best stuffed into my panniers.

All the above had their pluses and minuses but were still too heavy, or too long, or too short, or simply not very nice. So in comes the wild card: the Force Ten Helium 100 - a Vango offshoot.

Force Ten Helium

1.2kg, and stubby enough for a pannier. There is a rather complicated tension 'system' going on inside the inner tent that stabilises the tent should the wind pick up. I intend to decommission this gizmo and so long as I go on a tour when there is no wind forecast, I should be fine, right? I will get back to y'all with a low down on how it 'performed'.

Cooking stoves

Cyclo-camping is a test. I know a few people who have done Tough Mudder - frozen water, electrocution etc - and I am confused as to why they actually pay to be pulverised. I have said I'll rough them up in an alley for half the price. In my opinion, at the end of the gruelling 3 hours of a zillion military-style obstacles they should then cook a meal - an edible one - preferably in wet and windy conditions on a wobbly stove. Yes: camp cooking - my least favourite aspect of cyclo touring.

Just like anyone else, while stretching every sinew to ascend a huge hill, I'll be thinking - or dreaming - of a fantastic spread that will await my arrival at the next campsite. Indeed, for some inexplicable reason, in addition to the provision of clean but basic amenities and perhaps a ping-pong table, le camping will also provide a fantastic buffet for new arrivals.

But, that was, after all, just a dream so there is no buffet but, instead, on top of the clean but basic amenities and perhaps a two-metre pool, there is a rather nice kitchen.

The reality, of course, as you wake up with a shudder, is your wobbly stove and a pan and cutlery set.

There is a surprising amount of choice in this department from the tiny fold-up gas stoves to classic Trangia stoves and their liquid fuel, though gas fittings can be bought for those Scandinavian treasures. 

camping gaz twister

msr pocket rocket

sunngas alpine

trangia 27

trangia mini

The google shopping blurb about the mini Trangia is a bit bleak: 

'The Mini-Trangia Spirit Burner Stove is practical and lightweight and is ideal for a lone walker who likes to travel light but still enjoys a warm drink or meal.' 

I hope I don't get to a stage in my life when I walk alone but, thank god, still like a cup of tea.

As with most elements of cyclo touring, weight is king but there are a couple of basic hurdles to get over - what fuel and where to get it. First up, there are three main sources of fuel - camping gaz canisters, screw fit canisters and meths (also handy for a night cap). The first and last are the most widely available, while the screw fit can require some traipsing about to find. Trying to take any gas or the like with you on a plane is a definite no-no. So, secondly, you have to figure out where you are going to get your fuel. A bit of research beforehand on the very handy interwebnet will save a lot of time-wasting bother and tummy g-rumbling. 

The screw-fit pocket rocket style fold-ups are very light (around 90-100g) and can be very fast to boil (2 mins for a litre). But, as with all mini fold-ups, stability is a problem - especially while trying to get the pan on the arms. There is the Sunngas Alpine (480g) style - with the gas connected via a short hose. Vango, MSR and Primus have their own models. With their legs - as well as arms - these are better for stability but lose out a wee bit in their weight and size. Also, with any gas stove, see if they have the added bonus of a Piezo ignition. The liquid fuel stove kits are fantastically engineered gadgets but they are more cumbersome and slower than the gas stoves. On the other hand, there is the relative less eco-unfriendliness of Trangia (250g for the burner and windshield; around 10 mins to boil). 

If you do opt for the pocket rocket, there are ways around the stability issue. Simply do your cooking on some part of the campsite's work tops - even the ping pong table! Having the stove at waist height makes a big difference.

Be canny with stoves and planes - shove it the hold as they can be deemed a weapon by some security personnel.

The Vango Folding Gas Stove could just be your ticket at 220g.

Bon appetito!

TDF Tents?

By 'eck, ooh, la la. It's here, the TDF. There are no stadiums to fall down, no-one's going to bite their opponent and rain won't stop them. In just a few hours they will be off and allezing!

http://www.letour.com/le-tour/2014/us/overall-route.html

The TDF, regardless of whether it starts in York, famous for not being in France, or Martinique (actually in France), will not be a tour in the English sense of the word. Overlooking the extremely untouring-like tour bikes of the TDF - no braze-ons for back-racks, for example and no compass bells - there is not enough in the way of the facets of proper touring going on - those facets that we proper tourers prefer to the joys of sandy beaches near the equator, the spiced air of the sub-tropics, the all-you-can-eat buffets of the fully inclusive hotel deals somewhere nice abroad. No, you won't see fully laden bikes being manhandled on and off trains in the TDF; there'll be no stopping for a cup of tea, or popping into little shops to get a bun, and certainly no stopping to look at the map - again. You'll not see anyone stop to put on their waterproof rubberised canvas trousis from Halfords. You never hear Froome, Evans, Vockler, Qunitana telling the interviewer that some of the scenery was really nice, and, while brandishing some tasty pics on their iphones, that they stopped at a great cafe 'just over this bit'. 
Of course, the real issue is that they are not carrying any tentage - or any panniers - not even a wee saddle bag. The contestants will not being participating in what many tourers find the most challenging stage of a day in the saddle - that of, after cycling all that darned way, having to erect a tent in light rain on a pitch of coagulated gravel then queueing for a shower having experienced a toilet in its end-of-day condition with nothing more than a single two-ply handy-andie. No fancy-dan physio administering the rider's scientifically calculated diet. Try to get a stove to stay upright on an awkward lie in a howling gale just to boil some gritty water of questionable provenance for some pallid tasteless pasta. And all this before trying to get a good night's sleep on a mat no thicker than a human hair.
But I guess those support cars could squeeze in a couple of tents.

team sky's likely accommodations