You see we went on numerous camping trips to the 'exotic locations' of the Lake District, Scotland and Wales. Not content with just capturing the moments on camera, we also took with us a camcorder to record every waking moment. Just think - every moment captured in glorious colour with stereo sound. But it didn't stop there. Oh no. Because when we returned to the safety and comfort of our homes the captured footage was edited, trimmed and re-recorded. Then the magic happened. A suitable soundtrack was added, along with titles and credits. So from a few hundred hours of footage of us cooking, eating, washing up, cooking, eating, washing up again and staring blankly at the lens true cinematic masterpieces were created. The general public really don't know what they missed!
Several years later, as technology had moved on somewhat, the movies were transferred onto DVD (after being enhanced slightly) and DVD sleeves were created. The digital transfer really breathed new life into the original films. But it didn't stop there - a CD release of a soundtrack was also created to accompany the films. Now I know what you're thinking, "Wow - this bunch of lads must be really creative. I wish I could've seen the films!". Either that or, "They really should have got out more and found girlfriends". Ha, that's shows what little they knew about us - some of us had already actually spoken to the opposite sex!
Usually the camping trips were triggered by a desire to spend some time chilling out, loafing around in the water or shooting the breeze in the pubs on an evening. At least that was the plan. Instead we usually spent it clinging to cliff faces in sheer terror as DB had led us up another lethal gully, or up to our waists in mud having followed a non-existent path or, more often than not, charging around the mountains on bikes. The first trip to be captured on film coincided with the birth of UK mountain biking and we were there. No suspension. No fear. No sense. But it was great fun. So with out trusty guide 'The Lake District Mountain Bike Guide' by Jeremy Ashcroft we set out day-after-day to discover new routes and new dangers. They were challenging routes but we were built of sterner stuff. Pretty soon, over the course of several visits, we had ticked off most of the easy and moderate routes and were soon working through the difficult and hard routes. No problem.
And then in 1993 we decided we needed a bigger challenge. We were ready for the Severe routes. Or at least that's what we thought. We parked up at the car park at Honister Pass, collected our gear and set off for a 'Tour of Great Cable'. We had been working up to this moment. It was our birthright. We were going to conquer the route for Hartlepool and the future mountain bikers!
It was going swimmingly at first. Sure we had to carry the bikes pretty much all the way out of Buttermere. The terrain was unrideable. Huge rock steps, narrow gullies and an unrelenting climb but we were making progress.
"Once we're at the pass it'll be fine", we assured ourselves, "It's downhill then for a bit"
We weren't fine. The downhill into Ennerdale was lethal. Even bigger rock drops. Even more severe gradients. Traps just waiting to rip the unsuspecting rider off their bike. We were about fifteen years too early. A full suspension bike would've eaten it up but we were on fully rigid bikes with cable pull brakes, wearing walking boots, fleeces and lugging a 10kg video camera with us. By the time we were half way into the route and climbing out of the third valley it was already 4pm. We'd already been out for nearly six hours. It was going to be a while before we got back to the car. Water was getting scarce and our provisions were hopelessly inadequate. And it was hurting. A lot.
And all this is captured, as clear as if was yesterday, on video. If you are 'lucky' enough to ever see this footage it is quite remarkable. Honestly. You can see the mood within the group visibly change as the day progresses; cheerful and chirpy are we are setting up the bikes in the car park and larking around to solemn and almost morose as we are lugging out steel steeds up yet another unrideable mountain pass. It was if life was being sucked out of us. Minute by minute. Looking back we could've been in real trouble but somehow we kept going. Eating away at the miles and rough terrain. Climbing. Carrying. Resting. Silent. Eventually we got back to tarmac. It was dark. We were tired. No... exhausted. And now we had the little matter of a road ride up Honister Pass to the car park. This would not have been a problem twelve hours ago but we were finished........but we climbed s-l-o-w-l-y up the road. Each turn of the crank hurt. We were running on empty.
I don't think I have ever been as tired and hungry as I was that day.
I'm looking at the guide book now.
Grade: Severe
Distance: 14 miles
Time: 6 hours
Terrain: High mountain passes
Surface: Steep roads and steep but generally well graded mountain tracks with some rock steps.
Repeat after me "well graded mountain tracks with some rock steps". WELL GRADED? SOME rock steps? Which route was Jeremy riding? Did he have some sort of experimental mountain bike that could levitate? Was he on drugs?
It was an experience. Not to be repeated.......well perhaps not. But I can't help but think that it would've been a little easier - just a smidge - if we hadn't been carrying movie hardware with us......
Oh sorry I almost forgot. So what does this have to do with U2? Well the chosen source for the soundtrack for this monumental mountain misery of a movie was Zooropa. So whilst the pain grew on our faces, and the miles dribbled away, we were accompanied by 'Lemon'. And since then the two are forever linked. I can't listen to that song without thinking about the setting sun as Great Gable dons it's evening shroud of darkness, and getting a slight twinge in my calf muscles, stuck in a moment that we couldn't get out of.
No comments:
Post a Comment