A couple of days ago I went with Tom over to the house of my mate Dan Martin who is an extreme athlete and adventurer planning a trip for next year where he will swim the Atlantic, cycle to Alaska, and then run to New York and then probably have a rest.
You might think he is a superhuman nutcase but Dan is a normal human being with an extraordinary dose of energy and he won't allow anything to let that energy get sapped by the more banal 'perceived' duties and practices of everyday life hence his great idea to have a manly day in the great outdoors and get away from computers and other indoor activities like being a woos.
I woke up at 5.15am in the morning with a bout of man-flu (and gout), but I was too manly to notice because it was man day. Looking out the back door I saw that it was caking it down with snow so I grabbed my army boots, a cheese sandwich, a flask of tea, and then at the last moment decided to put some clothes on and left the house just as Tom was arriving in his dad's fetishistic boat-sized car.
The road was thick with a crumbly-cheese-like layer of fresh snow and I was already starting to imagine people collectively getting into the nearest wardrobe, putting on all the clothes they own and stuffing their heads into a large ball of cotton wool rather than leaving the house.
I was thoroughly excited about the day ahead; chuffed to pieces at the prospect of doing some real manly work. We arrived at Dan's place and he emerged with an axe which he handed to me and I instinctively wedged between the straps of my rucksack to carry it like I carried an axe around normally.
We trekked through nearby fields, and talked to some cows, until we reached a forest which looked like a good place for shelter with plenty of firewood. We set about building an immense fire to cook breakfast over.
We cooked sausages and bacon in a tin tray, deep fried in butter. The fire was so hot that I think I aged a few months being next to it or at least it added to my manly leathery-faced complexion. It was great to sit beside the fire and chew the fat whilst watching the fat sizzle.
Eminently more fun than watching any screen, a fire has depth, which is something they have been trying to achieve with television for ages but it's always going to be flat isn't it? come on now, get rid of that flat screen and get yourself a good blazing fire. A fire has all these different layers of interest, and it's interactive too, the smoke comes round to you and reminds you that you're looking into a fire and that you should move at some point to turn the sausages.
It was simple fun; playtime for grown ups. I gathered a section of tree trunk to sit on and we sat and shared stories which got the mind working. Dan talked about his plans for after his next journey whilst cooking toast for the sarnies using a branch propped over the fire.
The resulting toast was crispy, slightly smoked, with a dark oak colour and satisfying crunch. It was extremely special toast. Some of the bacon was crispy and some was deep fried but it tasted great and might I add with no additional sauces to mess with the flavour. A break from the norm, because I pretty much always have ketchup in a bacon sarny.
So far so good. We collected the axes and dismantled the fire. As we were leaving the snow started getting heavier and everything got a nice coating. Tom was mentioning about the benefit of going outside the house rather than just going by what it says on telly in order to decide whether to leave the house. Some people would rather look at the telly to see what the weather is like than go outside - how absurd.
We put the axes back at Dan's. Dan told me about his plans to set up an energy and food self-sufficient home for himself after his next trip with a natural water supply, gardens for vegetables and various methods to generate electricity to run his electrical gadgetry which he wasn't planning on sacrificing.
We started the trek over to Tansor which was a lengthy walk. The landscape was now cloaked in white including the trees. We traversed a frozen river, using a log to pole-vault across. The walk got the blood flowing round the system properly. I'd been indoors the last couple of days and I needed to get out. Being outdoors was a great beneficiary to improving my general mood and health. Dan commented about how years ago the doctor might have prescribed a couple of days at the coast as a remedy to a cold. Has this kind of thing been allowed to be replaced by something else like a chemical drug equivalent? Or has it? Has anyone ever been prescribed a trip to the coast as a remedy for something in recent years?
We crossed over the A1. The road was a nasty break in the calm landscape. The cars flew past. It felt like my mind had slowed down and now I was faced once again with the pace of modern life in the form of the traffic.
The village of Tansor was quiet and looked pretty deserted and once we reached the river nene, the water looked a gloopy and impenetrable.
Dan went in first then I realised I had forgotten my trunks so I went in my underwear. As I was swimming they came off, which I found hilarious but didn't really have the chance to laugh because I needed to swim out of the water. I was very conscious of the absurdity of the situation.
It was my second time in the water as we'd met Dan last week for a swim. For me, psychologically, it was a case of getting over beginner's luck and going in the second time when I knew what it would feel like. I had wondered if I wanted to feel like that again.
When I got out I was cold but I felt a lot more confident and as if I had begun to find a comfort zone. However, swimming in such cold water is not something that you play too far with. Even Dan wasn't staying in for much longer that 30-45 seconds.
Tom managed a good stint and looked a lot more comfortable than the last time.
Afterwards I chucked on my clothes and we downed a few cups of tea before trekking over to the pub at a village called Warmington. It's a lovely part of the countryside with some nice bridleways, picturesque forests and impressive churches.
It was superb to get a pint of London Pride and sit beside the open fire in the 'Red Lion' pub. It was made even more sweet by the fact they were just about to close so we got in at the last minute.
Then we walked over to another pub and played cards and then went back to Dan's.
It was fantastic to be out in the open air, and remind myself of the worthiness of taking a day to just get out there for the sake of it.
thanks @danielmartinadv and @rideearthtom
Dan has also written a quality post on the day
and Tom's done some nice photos
