Sometimes I get myself into sticky situations. Most recently this happened during what was to be a delightful weekend cycle-camping in some of the UK's oldest woodland - the 'New Forest', named by somebody who lacked foresight. That weekend, I learned some new things:
Here's how I learned these things...
Planned to perfection, J, D and myself arrived early one November Saturday in the metropolis that is Basingstoke and set off west into the fresh autumnal wind for warmer climes. Anyone who has ridden a bike in the cold knows that the only way to get warmer is to ride faster, but doing so makes it windier, which makes your fingers, nose, ears and toes colder, at which point you reconsider and decide you'd rather slow down and enjoy the scenery. Fortunately, the scenery was delightful:
Eventually, with daylight all but buggered-orf we reached the New Forest, where I realise I have lied - coffee and cake is another perfectly acceptable way of warming up a winter ride. With lights that could dazzle Flash Gordon himself we ambled further through the forest in search of a hearty meal and couldn't help but be drawn to the curiously named 'Nomansland', where we were not disappointed...
Three gargantuan meals later we hit the road in search of a camping spot, and a few ill-thought turnings was all it took to find ourselves rattling down a sludgy dirt track (respect to D on a road bike) towards National Rail's excuse of choice - a fallen tree lying smack-bang across our path. It seemed like a good idea at the time; well fed, cooling down, tired and unable to pass, we weren't going anywhere else -why not camp here?
Here's why not:
A lot of people know that the New Forest has many deer, and that in the Autumn the deer rut - crashing their antlers against each others in competition for the ladies. What not a lot of people know is that a tree trying to fall down sounds remarkably similar to rutting deer in the run up to a tree actually falling down. We learned this subtle distinction in the middle of the night when the deer rutting around our tent turned out to be an ancient tree falling down not too far away.
If your alarm clock ever stops doing the job - try going back to sleep in a wood on a windy night after hearing a tree fall down. Had it fallen on us, how would we have fared? It's hard to say - it was sold to me as a strong tent but I have my doubts.
So how not to get hit by a falling tree? Pitch your tent a little to one side.
- The New Forest is not new
- Trees sound like deer
- Clothes from Asda feel disgusting
Here's how I learned these things...
Planned to perfection, J, D and myself arrived early one November Saturday in the metropolis that is Basingstoke and set off west into the fresh autumnal wind for warmer climes. Anyone who has ridden a bike in the cold knows that the only way to get warmer is to ride faster, but doing so makes it windier, which makes your fingers, nose, ears and toes colder, at which point you reconsider and decide you'd rather slow down and enjoy the scenery. Fortunately, the scenery was delightful:
Eventually, with daylight all but buggered-orf we reached the New Forest, where I realise I have lied - coffee and cake is another perfectly acceptable way of warming up a winter ride. With lights that could dazzle Flash Gordon himself we ambled further through the forest in search of a hearty meal and couldn't help but be drawn to the curiously named 'Nomansland', where we were not disappointed...
Three gargantuan meals later we hit the road in search of a camping spot, and a few ill-thought turnings was all it took to find ourselves rattling down a sludgy dirt track (respect to D on a road bike) towards National Rail's excuse of choice - a fallen tree lying smack-bang across our path. It seemed like a good idea at the time; well fed, cooling down, tired and unable to pass, we weren't going anywhere else -why not camp here?
Here's why not:
A lot of people know that the New Forest has many deer, and that in the Autumn the deer rut - crashing their antlers against each others in competition for the ladies. What not a lot of people know is that a tree trying to fall down sounds remarkably similar to rutting deer in the run up to a tree actually falling down. We learned this subtle distinction in the middle of the night when the deer rutting around our tent turned out to be an ancient tree falling down not too far away.
If your alarm clock ever stops doing the job - try going back to sleep in a wood on a windy night after hearing a tree fall down. Had it fallen on us, how would we have fared? It's hard to say - it was sold to me as a strong tent but I have my doubts.
So how not to get hit by a falling tree? Pitch your tent a little to one side.
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