All Posts in “wonderful wild women”

My quest to paddle the meres & waters of the Lake District

29/01/2023 / no comments

My quest to paddle the meres & waters of the Lake District

By Katie Houghton

The seed was planted when a friend suggested a one way paddle on Ullswater Lake, leaving a car at each end. The three of us (plus one dog) paddled the length of Ullswater one very windy October day last year.

Ullswater is not a straight lake and so each section was characterised by its own wind system. We set off kneeling with a strong head wind, thinking we were never going to get there. After we turned the first corner, it was much easier and we could stop without fear of been blown backwards. Lunch break on the beach and around the last corner to the home stretch, welcomed with a tail wind to blow us to the end. We made the 12.6k with only one of us falling in, luckily not me, but I had carried my RED Original Pro Change Robe just in case.

Next up was the big one, Lake Windermere, something I’ve wanted to do for years but just never quite got round to it. During a particularly hot week this August, me and my Dog Rhyder left our house, walked down to Fell foot park at the south end of Lake Windermere.

Rhyder wears the RED Original Dog Bouyancy Aid, it lifts his back legs to align his spine while swimming, this makes swimming much more relaxing for him and I notice a big difference from when he is not wearing it. It also has handy grab handles on it so I can help him climb back on board from the water.

Carrying the RED Sport Paddle Board I’d borrowed for the day and my deck bag over my shoulder with all our snacks, I’d checked the wind and as it usually does it was blowing in a South to North direction up the Lake. I chose to use the inflatable RED board today as I have a hard board which doesn’t allow me to attach a bag of any sort, I also thought it would be more comfortable for both of us, especially if I needed to paddle from my knees for any time. I noticed Rhyder was particularly settled on the RED board, very relaxed, I wondered if it was more stable.

I’d set a goal of a break every 4k for snacks and a chance for Rhyder to have a play in the water to cool off. The deck bag is perfect for storing everything I needed, food, drink, phone, and really easy to access the contents due to its rigid form.

We paddled up the east shore of the lake as it is a little quieter. We made great time and the 17k took us 4 hours of paddling, 5 hours including breaks. We were greeted at the other end in Ambleside by my other half and a well earned Sourdough Pizza.

A few days later to make the most of the heatwave we were having. We (myself, my husband Dave and Rhyder) paddled the length of Coniston water, the 9.5k felt like a doddle after Windermere. I then ran back along the shore to collect the car. This was great training for an upcoming triathlon I was doing in September, my first one. This one really appealed to me SUP BIKE RUN, I’d booked it 3 years ago and like most things during Covid it had been put on hold.

In the run up to the triathlon I’d been concentrating on faster short paddles as the Sup section was only 3km. Having never had a Sup lesson, but picked up a few pointers on the Red paddle out back in May. I’d started looking into it a bit more and watching a few tutorial videos as I had been experiencing a bit of lower back pain. I think this is linked to a hamstring strain I picked up paddling Windermere, it didn’t really bother me too much at the time, but every time I went out in the weeks following I noticed it. After researching the correct body position I think my legs had been too straight. I worked on some warmup exercises I could do before going out and this helped a lot. Race day came, and I had so much fun! I competed with my big brother, I’d bought him the entry as a birthday gift, and this was super special for me. The event was really well run, relaxed and welcoming to newbies. To my surprise when the results came in I was the fastest woman on the standard length course. I was over the moon with this, I’ve never won a sporting event before, my jack of all trades master of non finally paying off. I’ve entered some more of their events next year.

Back to paddling longer distances could resume now the race was out the way. Unfortunately with weather being particularly windy this autumn and hamstring physio, no more lakes have been completed just yet. I had tried the hamstring out on lap of Grassmere end of Nov and it was feeling better, but not quite up for a long paddle just yet. Since then I just haven’t been brave enough to freeze my toes off.

We did most of Derwent water in the summer, but need to do an end to end to tick it off. Then I still have Wastwater & Loweswater to complete. Buttermere, Crummock water and Bassenthwaite require a permit, which require a bit more planning.

I was in no particular rush to tick all the lakes off and its nice to have a to do list, it brings more purpose and adventure to my paddle boarding. Paddling the same water can get stale, but the convenience to get out for a quick hour from my doorstep overrides this. I’m very grateful I can make the most of perfect conditions whenever they occur, nothing quite as calming and peaceful as a float on the water.

POLITE REMINDER:

The threat posed by Invasive Non-Native Species (INNS) has increased hugely over recent years.

“Invasive non-native species cause serious environmental problems that can be irreversible, and interfere with the activities you enjoy by clogging propellers, damaging boats, blocking up waterways making it hard to fish or use them for paddling, and increasing the risk of flooding.” (www.nonnativespecies.org)

As water users, your actions impact hugely, and there are some steps you can take to ‘STOP THE SPREAD’:

check your body and hair for bits of weed
check your equipment prior to and after any water use in the Lake District
West Cumbria Rivers Trust recommends you use a disinfectant if at all possible on equipment, they recommend Virkon.
Don’t forget to dry your equipment, as INNS can survive for extended periods in damp conditions.

National Trust

Lake District National Park Authority

Cumbria Freshwater Invasive Non-Native Species Initiative

Spread the Word – Not the Weed (video)

Thanks to Katie for sharing her SUP experience with us

FOLLOW KATIE

Balance It Out

18/05/2021 / no comments

Balance it out

By Kate O’Callaghan

I think by now most of us know my story but for those of you that don’t, the last 4 years of my life have been shadowed by blood cancer. My own battle with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma 4 years ago, followed by my mums diagnosis with Multiple Myeloma just 6 weeks after I went into remission. There have been some humbling lows, some incredible highs and everything in between.

People have told me more times than I can count that I am strong, that my mental resilience during hard times is impressive. It is true that I am mentally resilient, it doesn’t mean I don’t struggle or find these times difficult, it doesn’t mean that I don’t break down or suffer, believe me I do. Losing my mum is something I am struggling my way through, grief is something unique to each person. For me, during the day I am doing okay but during the night I am haunted – I won’t share the details here but I am really open to discussing my grief with people if you want to hear more.

I have been thinking more recently about why I am “strong” or “resilient” – I was raised strong, my parents are hardworking, independent, strong and resilient people and they raised me to be the same. My mum raised me to be fierce and focused, I remembered recently when I was young, I am not sure how old I was, but it was young, she gave me a sticky note which quoted – FEAR – Forget Everything And Run or Face Everything And Rise – You decide. She told us before she died that she wasn’t afraid of dying, she was afraid of leaving us behind, but she knew we were strong enough to survive her loss and that made her proud. She was a warrior my mum, through all her suffering over the last 4 years she continued to show us how far her strength and dignity would carry her, her nurses and carers told us she taught them so much about strength, positivity and how to defy the ageing process. Even in her last days when she couldn’t put on her own mascara and lipstick she made damn sure my dad did it for her. My dad, also a warrior in his own right, his care and dedication to my mum their whole lives but mostly this last 4 years is admirable beyond words. If anyone was to ask who my heroes are, who I want to be like when I grow up (because I haven’t yet) – it is 100% them.

Being strong and resilient doesn’t mean I don’t suffer but what it does do is give me the capacity to focus my way through hard times. I don’t do it alone, Danny, my friends and family all support me, endlessly, they all have my back and when I do fall they catch me and I them, being loved fuels strength.

Sure, I have had a rough run but haven’t we all – that is life, there is always something testing us. Even more of a reason why we need to make the most of everything, make the most of every single day.

I have gone completely off track with what I was planning to write but a bit of context can’t hurt hey. What I wanted to talk about was balancing out the pain, turning pain into positivity. Whenever I find myself in troubled waters and the walls are closing in, I take myself outside. Nature, in all its glory is healing – it offers so many calming, healing, moments of appreciation it can only do good. When you climb a mountain in the dark and watch the sunrise over the sleeping world you can only feel alive, when you push yourself and achieve something you never thought you could, you can only feel proud. The outdoors is a powerful place, our oceans, our mountains, our forests, and our lakes – they all offer life changing and healing opportunities – it is up to us to seek them out.

When I was coming through cancer I focused on traveling the world, every day adventures when I wasn’t traveling the world and also challenging myself. Challenging myself last time was the 36 hour WWW challenge. Incorporating everyday adventures in to my lifestyle and saying yes to new adventures has opened up my world, I have learned (well learning) to surf, I have pushed my progression on my mountain bike and it even has me occasionally swimming in freezing cold waters through winter in a swimming costume… I mean if those things don’t make us feel alive, what will?

This time, turning my pain into positivity was for two reasons:

A. to give me something to focus on through the hard times and;

B. to raise money and awareness.

My mum chose a poem for her funeral that had messages in for us (she didn’t say it was for that reason but I am 100% sure it was) and one of those messages read “and bury your sorrows in doing good deeds, miss me but let me go” reading that and reading some words my mum wrote to me “I’ve so enjoyed watching you travel the world but also how you make the most out of life from home, making each moment count even in the face of adversity. Oh how I’ve enjoyed to follow your adventures” I decided that I had to push myself, to balance out the pain with an epic adventure for my own benefit, but to also make it challenging enough that it was worthy of raising money for Myeloma UK in the process.

The challenge…

A 400km MTB journey with 7800m of ascent and descent across Scotland, from coast to coast.
Starting at Ardnamurchan Lighthouse and finishing in Aberdeen.
7 days to complete it.

Myself and my friend Sophie will be tackling this challenge, neither of us can navigate (yet), we are both useless at bike mechanics and neither have put a tent up in years.

What could go wrong?

If we can do something everyday that adds value, makes us smile, balances out the stresses of life big and small, wouldn’t that be wonderful? Wouldn’t that mean we aren’t wasting the little time we have to live?

It is inevitable that bad things will happen to us but if we can counteract them, life might just be as incredible as it should be.

Support Kate & Sophie

Our Lockdown Watch List

30/04/2020 / no comments

Our Lockdown Watch List

To help with any boredom that may be surfacing, boost moral and get that fire burning for new future experiences we have put together a little list of some of our favourite films all centered around the outdoors; from everyday adventures to epic challenges, stunning awe inspiring scenery of far away lands to the beauty on our doorstep.

Get the kettle on, hunt out the sleeping bag and have your very own living room bivvy…

We’d love to hear about your favourites too!?

one

The Bothy Project

by Lightshed Pictures

I loved ‘the bothy project’ released by the BMC a few years ago. It’s about four females, climbers, swimmers and artists who stay in a bothy called shenevall in the north west highlands. I loved it because it was the first bothy I visited on my second of many epic camping and bivvying trips to Scotland. I stayed in the bothy to complete the fisherfield round (a loop of 6 munroes and a few corbets) but the situation of the bothy is so awe inspiring, it takes two hours just to walk into before you even start the adventure up other mountains and it feels so removed from the rest of the world, no people anywhere to be seen or heard and surrounded by the most incredible mountains you could imagine! The film really gives an essence of the place. The bothy is so simple as all bothys are, but is full of other climbers, walkers and mountaineers history with maps and notes all over the walls, and old tins of questionable foods on shelves, burnt out candles and a blackened fire place.

Lucy Downham

two

on her terms

by Aspect Media

“I love the exploratory nature of it, how they delve into their connection with nature and their love of the environment. I also enjoyed how they included education on Iceland’s approach to energy. Its It’s full of wicked scenery and it just really makes me want to explore Iceland by mountain bike.”

kate o'callaghan

three

i am a fell runner

by Jessie Leong & Julie Carter

“This film is not just for fell runners. Its for anyone who has ever felt that unexplained need and passion to do the thing they love.

I love to listen to Julie read her poetry so with the combination of the local Lake District Fells this is an absolute winner in my eyes”

sarah gerrish

four

afterglow

by Sweetgrass Productions

“I love the slow pace, the attention to detail that everyone can appreciate & the way they capture movement along side words. This film resonates with me because of all the snippets of memories & moments I’ve had skiing feeling totally elated and like I’m floating in a gloriously coloured world. Hopefully it can capture everyone, even those who may have never have had that experience and magically make them feel impressed.

Fricking wicked footage and lighting.
Mostly just one day I want to ski in a light suit and look that fricking cool”

Vicki McCreadie

five

DARK SIDE OF THE LENS

by Astray Films

“The first ever adventure film festival I went to was back in 2011 (the Adventure Film Tour I think, in Hammersmith), of all the films that evening, this one stood out for me, I can watch it again and again. The words, sound and visuals combined were so striking & memorable. His words stick in my head, “cold creeping into my core”, “if I only scrape a living, at least it’s a living worth scraping”… little did I know almost 5 years later I’d end up working for Kendal Mountain Festival, and watch 100s more adventure films – but still this one ranks up there as one of the best (in my opinion!)“

JENNY RICE

six

Unstoppable

by Aaron Lieber

“It’s a documentary of surfer Bethany Hamilton, her passion for surfing and not letting anything stand in her way. I cried, I laughed, I cheered, I gasped as she takes on Jaws, the big wave in Hawaii. It shows you her life story and how she lost her arm to a shark attack, and how she came back stronger and more determined to be one of the worlds best surfers.”

Available to watch on Netflix

Jess Smith

seven

Paul Tierney: Running The Wainwrights

by Dave MacFarlane

“I love the emotions in it, the determination, the grit, the community. The reasoning. I’m not a runner but I felt every moment of the film and just loved it.”

kate o'callaghan

eight

HILLY SKIING

by Reel Things

“Hilly Skiing Is such a beautiful film. Hilly’s passion, strength and courage can be an inspiration to us all. She shows us that whatever your passion is in life, go out and grab it. My favourite turn is the one on the tiny summer patch! Love it.“

jenny nuttall

nine

Speak to me softly

by Henna Taylor

“The short film “Speak To Me, Softly” spoke to me on a number of levels. The portrayal of the little gremlin in my brain telling me ‘I’m not good enough’, ‘I can’t do this’ (whether this is racing triathlons, climbing, slack lining, learning a new knot, ANYTHING) blew me away. When lockdown blows over and I can run straight into the mountains – I am determined to win the battle with my gremlin. This film inspired me to trust myself – which is a very new concept to me.

Go and watch this GEM. <3″

Lauren Munro-Bennett

ten

RJ Ripper

by Joey Schusler

“In short, this film for me is proof that if you have heart and determination you can succeed, no matter what your start in life.”

Kate O'Callaghan

eleven

Life of Pie

By Patagonia

“Funny and heartwarming with trails I actually would genuinely LOVE to ride!!! Say what?!

I’m not a mountain biker. I don’t go in search of the gnar (is that even the right way to use that word in a sentence?!), I can’t manual and I have to really concentrate to do the right hand wave horn thing but I do enjoy riding my bike and this film makes me want to ride my bike!!! I want to know these women and I want to hang out with these women – although maybe with the admission above I’m not cool enough( something tells me they won’t bother themselves with things like that though!).

Fruita, Colorado… here I come… errrrm when this is all over!”

Sarah Gerrish

twelve

Fish People

by Patagonia

“Why? Quite simply because it’s a love letter to the sea – and that’s what I’m missing right now.”

Gilly McArthur

thirteen

Follow Through

By Rei

“I like the fact that it documents real emotions and struggles, that a women faces when being successful in a male dominated sport and the fact that she cracks on through with sheer determination. It has some incredible footage on one of the toughest chutes, with her talking herself through an incredibly exposed position and working to control her emotion.”

Vicki McCreadie

fourteen

My Big White Thighs and Me

By Maia Media

“I remember the first time I saw this film. It had me laughing & crying in equal measures and not much has changed since – it gets me every time. I feel lucky to now know Hannah and it makes the film that much more endearing to me. It epitomizes a lot of what the WWW Community is to me… In Hannahs words; a short film that encourages us all to turn down the volume on the demands of the world and to celebrate the quiet heroism of a female life and it’s body. It’s a story about womanhood, miscarriage, healing, loving your own skin & freezing your bum off in cold water.”

Sarah Gerrish

fifteen

Sketchy Andy

By Reel Rock

“I don’t know, I just like it!”

Home schooling is going well…

Molly Gerrish

aged 10

And once you've worked your way through those, don't forget to head over to our film library where you will find more of our favourites including films featured as part of our annual film night

SHOW ME MORE

SUP Challenge : 6-days, 11 lakes by SUP & Bike

11/03/2020 / no comments

SUP Challenge : 6-days, 11 lakes by SUP & Bike

By Rachel Towe

Self described as a novice SUPper, Rachel Towe, creates a unique voyage combining a bike trailer and the board to circumnavigate the Lake District paddling the length of 11 iconic lakes. A tale that is not particularly ground breaking in terms of a physical challenge, nor one that breaks records and reaches the outdoor challenge headlines but one that might inspire others to create their own unique adventure out of limiting circumstances and think outside the box.

Firstly…the reason I wanted to share my story on the WWW website…

I hadn’t met (or even heard of) a Wonderful Wild Woman until I went to Rheged Visitor Centre one January evening in early 2020. Only that day, I had been battling with the Lake District weather and attempting to dream of adventures in the spring and summer ahead. The day was dreary and driving up to Penrith on a stormy night felt like the opposite of what my hibernating instincts told me I should be doing that evening. I was, like a lot of others around me, feeling a little depressed.

I was going to the WWW event to support my fabulous friend, Jane Reedy. Jane was giving a talk that evening after surviving (and thriving) the challenge of overcoming horrendous cancer surgery and creating the ‘Pedal to the Peaks’ adventure. Through her adventures, Jane has raised an incredible amount of money for Cancer Care (look her up – you will definitely be inspired too). I went along that evening to feel proud of her and support her, as she indeed told us why she is a Wonderful Wild Woman.
That evening at Rheged was truly inspirational for me. Every one of the WWW that stood up to speak and tell us their story, touched my heart and I came away floating. The vibe in the room was so welcoming and warm and even though I didn’t know the people there, I felt like I belonged. My motivation sparked again. I came home gushing with enthusiasm as I told my family of the stories I had heard.

The next day, I continued to bounce and I reached out to friends to share my enlightenment. I looked at the WWW website, and enjoyed reading some of the marvellous stories on there. I felt compelled to email some of the speakers/founders and thanked them for sharing their story. I thought, ‘I want to be part of this WWW group’ but I realised on reflection that I felt like I already belonged. The philosophy of the group is not to share accounts of remarkable athletes doing un-achievable things. At the heart of WWW, are stories about females overcoming challenges, just getting themselves out there and feeding off the benefits of being in the great outdoors. It’s about their attitude to support each other, to share their love of how renewing the great outdoors can be. It’s non-competitive, warm, fun and definitely something I want to be a part of.

So…I thought…I think I am a WWW too. I am not the arrogant type and often quite a private person about my achievements but I felt that the WWW website isn’t about bragging, it’s about sharing, appreciating and inspiring each other. Therefore, I thought you might enjoy my story of thinking outside the box, of overcoming limitations, and just getting on and being inspired by what our truly magical environment has to offer us.

This is my story of my SUP challenge of Summer 2019…

Floating on top of the water is truly magical and that’s the feeling I first felt when I tried SUPping for the first time. After spending a lot of time in the Lake District mountains running and walking, it felt quite enlightening to now see a whole new perspective, on a landscape, that I thought I knew so well.

But soon I wanted more…what if this vessel of rubber, that you inflate and deflate so easily to enjoy floating on top of the water…what if…it could become the catalyst to take me on a journey, an adventure, a voyage but not just on the water?

I wasn’t into SUPping until a year and a half ago, in fact I hadn’t even stepped on a SUP or engaged in water sports – I don’t like swimming so why should I? But when I was offered a go on a SUP, I was soon captivated. I enjoyed about 4 ‘pootle’ paddle board trips on the lake and then my friend and I concocted a plan to paddle the length of Lake Windermere (10.5 miles). We had very little idea about whether we were able to achieve that or not (what with being novice) and so, with very little experience or training, we gave it a go. It was surprisingly easy and very enjoyable, and that was when a seed was sown…

My background, BP (before paddling), previously I dabbled in fell walking and running, cycle touring, dancing, yoga… none of them at a serious level and being surrounded by a group of friends who were a collection of champions in local, national and even international competitive fell running scenes, any of my own accomplishments felt quite tame and insignificant. In the New Year of 2019, I injured my ankle badly with a ruptured ligament in a running race and was on crutches for a month and feeling sorry for myself. Then flu took me to bed for nearly 2 weeks. A rotten start to the new year but I was determined that it wasn’t going to continue to be a bad year. It was then, in my sick bed, that the real plotting began. Clearly the mountain running challenge I was preparing myself for that summer was now no longer an option, as the ankle recovery was going to take at least 6 months. So I needed a different focus/challenge that didn’t rely on running. I needed to think outside the box and try something new. But I already had! That kookie idea I had had the summer before whilst SUPPING the length of Lake Windermere came back to me, took hold and the journey began.
So what about…SUPPING the length of 12 iconic lakes of the Lake District in a continuous journey travelling between the Lakes on a bike with the SUP in a trailer? And that’s what I did. This summer of 2019, a 6-day journey, me and my SUP and my bike with trailer.

Friends thought the idea was a bit of an unconventional faff and, to be fair, it kind of was but I loved the unique idea of being self-sufficient, carrying all my stuff and journeying between the lakes on bike with the SUP in a trailer.

So in practise this is what it really looked like…each lake would entail 4 stages:

Cycling with the SUP in a bike trailer (used to transport kids around usually) with my paddle sticking out the back. Arriving at one end of the lake. The SUP (and equipment/clothing needed to SUP) was then left in this location. Say this was the south end of the lake (which it often was due to the wind direction).
Cycle to the other end of the lake (North) where I would leave my bike.
Run back to the south end of the lake where my SUP was waiting. I would then inflate my SUP with my pump.
Finally SUP the length of the lake from south to north. I would then deflate my SUP, roll it up and put it back in the trailer and cycle off to the next lake.

The whole circumnavigation/journey of the 11 lakes took me 6 days. Days varied in terms of how many lakes I did in a day dependent on the distance on the bike between the Lakes and the length of the lake. The longest lake being 10.5 miles long and the shortest 1 mile. Most days were about 10 – 12 hours of continuous movement (shared out between cycling, running and SUPPING) with snacks/food on the go. I stayed in a combination of YHAs and tents accompanied by friends and family for company but other than that I was proudly self-sufficient. I paddled 11 lakes in the end rather than 12. The planned visit to Ennerdale was not an option due to bad weather and difficult access. There were some hairy moments on Buttermere with gale force winds pushing me double my normal speed without having to paddle. I collected lots of other moments and stories on my journey. Most of which wouldn’t interest anyone except me but as with any adventure I learnt quite a bit about myself – character revealing rather than character building (again – no need to bore you with any of those).

The reason why I wanted to share my story is not because I think it is an incredible feat/challenge or story of great courage but I wanted to share how easy it is for someone (such as a novice like myself) to enjoy. I was forced to try something new and I am actually really grateful, that I had the opportunity, to be inspired to create my own adventure. It has reminded me how great it is to have to think outside the box. The enjoyment and liberation you get from planning your own challenge is immense: no one to live up to and no one has journeyed there before. SUPPING has been a very magical addition to my life, given me a new perspective on the world, slowed me down, mellowed me out and been a new friend to enable me to discover a unique voyage. I hope my story inspires other new SUPPERS that they can do the same. Last little thought…I have come to the conclusion that kneeling on the board in gale force winds is not cowardly – it’s downright survival. Can you still say I have SUPPED the 11 lakes? Absolutely damn right I have!

A huge thank you to Rachel for choosing to share her story with us!

We hope it has inspired you to think outside the box and create your own adventure!

Finding More From Morocco’s Mountains

03/03/2020 / no comments

Finding More From Morocco's Mountains

By Sarah Locke

For many, Morocco conjures visions of palm tree-fringed pools, beautiful gardens hidden behind city walls and surf camps littering the turquoise coastline. While not immune to these charms, I was visiting for something completely different – to walk Morocco’s mountains.

It’s around 7am in Marrakech and the call to prayer has commenced in the mosque. It reverberates through the market, across the square, and now winds around the stairs of our riad hostel until it eventually stirs me from a restless sleep. I’m an early riser; a habit usually frowned upon by friends at home, but here I fit in with the local rhythm.

I’m excited about the adventure ahead. Driving through the city, colour catches us at every corner. Street hawkers shout to have their wares heard above their neighbours’, and a mixture of smells; fruit, flowers and local cooking, seep through my cracked window.
While I’m desperate to explore the maze of people and produce, it’s the mountains I came for and ahead of me; I’ve got many hours cramped in a bus travelling on uncomfortable roads.

The Atlas Mountains span three countries across North Africa; Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia. Until fairly recently, they’ve been left off the list of top tourist traps – but not for long, the West is waking up and their peaks are becoming increasingly explored.

The mini bus rattles into Imlil, the final town before we take to the footpath. The cold hits me as soon as I step foot outside. Blessed with unusually poor circulation, the tips of my fingers have already lost their pinkish hue. I make a beeline for the nearest second-hand mountain kit store in search of ski gloves; my knitted ones won’t cut the mustard.

The sky is bright blue. A combination of brilliant colour and the freshness of air only found up in the mountains or by the sea. It’s bitterly cold, but our guide, Mohammed, is wearing half the number of layers I am and remains insistent we’ll warm up once we get going. It’s April and though the northern hemisphere is beginning to warm up, I can still see the peaks up ahead dusted ominously with a white icy frosting.

The beginning of a hike is just as appealing as the summit for me and the excitement of the unknown is the only thing powering my legs. This particular pre-amble takes us through numerous hamlets scattered around the base of the Atlas’s, around the fringes of farmland and numerous rose cotton plantations. I can hear the sound of donkeys in the valley below and the smell of tagine cooked on stoves floats through open windows. These are the details the slow speed of hiking forces you to feel in high definition – you don’t experience this to this extent in any another mode I’m sure.

Two hours in and I can feel my feet start to sink into my boots – we’re only just warming up. Half way up the first valley, just at the fringes of one of the last villages, is a little house with a modest veranda overlooking the valley and Imlil in the distance below. A local man comes out from behind a wooden door and wordlessly begins hand pressing orange juice for us. Sat on the sandy floor, we soak it in – epic undisturbed views across the landscape, tangy orange on tongues, harsh sunlight furrowing brows. The noise of Marrakech has long been forgotten.

After lunch, we pass a church, pristine and vibrant blue against the backdrop of red dust coloured mountains. Mohammed tells me that single women give gifts here in the hope of being blessed with a husband. Sarcastic comments from my female companions ensue. From this, Mohammed notes that westerners do it differently; he doesn’t know any women who hike. He takes a moment and says he doesn’t actually know a reason for this, since we aren’t holding anyone back. I take a moment to enjoy that.

By the time we reached mountainside refuge, we’re all a different degree of pink-cheeked, but the same level of spent. The refuge is just at the bottom of snow line, and after eight hours of relatively peaceful hiking, we’re suddenly surrounded by people, noise, food and warmth.

Dinner is cosy and we crowd round a large table. The wall lined with photos of previous successful summits dating back to when the refuge was first opened. In preparation for the summit tomorrow, over bowls of tagine and games of cards, we hear from our guides and fellow hikers, about previous expeditions and what to expect.

Before bed, we’re each given crampons to fit and wear over our walking boots to deal with the ice and the first waves of nervousness shroud us. The bunkbeds in the refuge are made up of ten or more rows of beds, side by side. I’m not sure if this is an upgrade or downgrade from the bunkbed in Marrakech yet, only the night will tell.

My wake up is 5am and the cold, once again, is consuming. I wonder if it’s still called a wake up if you don’t sleep. The snoring from friends and strangers make this dubious.

Crampons firmly strapped to walking boots, we begin our ascent. The dark envelopes us and for at least the first two to three hours, we’re solely focussed on following the footsteps of the person in front, desperate not to slip on ice.

As the sun starts to rise, the dull ache in my calves is replaced once again by excitement and the monotony of my footsteps replenished by a quicker, more irregular pace. The summit is beautiful. 4,167m above the desert amidst crystal clear blue sky. There’s a large triangular plaque at the top with words of encouragement and celebration from previous summiteers, and while we rest at the top we’re joined by a few more hiking groups. Again, it feels odd to be surrounded by people in such a remote location.

On the way down we’re weightless with achievement and I feel almost drunk trying to keep my legs steady, battling the combination of steep incline and ice. We reach the refuge once again and this time the bunk beds are no bother – the nap turns into a deep slumber. Once awoken, we have to make the final descent just as the weather closes in and blue skies are replaced by rain. The red sand under our feet becomes a muddy slurry and by the time we reach the bottom, we’re soaked through with mud clumped around our boots.

With every step down the mountain, I warm a little more and we lose base layers every twenty minutes. Once in front of a fire (another tagine in my hand), the blood has returned back to my fingertips almost as quickly as it left.

To see more of Sarah’s adventures you can follow her on INSTAGRAM

Change

06/10/2019 / no comments

Change

By Penny Swann

CHANGE is scary. We fear it – we look for safety, for comfort, and we fear its loss.

I had a ‘safe’ life – marriage to a man I’d loved for 25 years, two children, and my mother living just along the road. Of course there were challenges – a child with cerebral palsy, teenage tantrums, the endless juggle of fitting your needs around those of others.

But then everything changed. My mother was diagnosed with cancer, and we lost her, shockingly swiftly, in January 2017. Four months later, my husband admitted he had been having an affair with a colleague for several years.

And suddenly, I was alone. I had two heartbroken children to try and mend; more paid work to find after years of childcare and of putting my husband’s career before mine. And I had to hold myself together.

When something like that happens, you can spend a while in shock. You can find yourself doing things you would never have done before, because you’re full of adrenalin and everything is upside down. Unexpected people offer help, friendships radically change, and during that time I found myself saying ‘yes’ to the most preposterous things.

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Yes, I’ll have coffee with you, though we haven’t spoken for years. Yes, I’ll buy a wetsuit and go swim in a lake. Yes, I’ll enter a 10k trail run, though I only ever go for 20-minute jogs along a flat canal path.

For nearly all my adult life, I had stayed away from exercise because I wasn’t very good at it. Now I found that when I needed to run away from all the pain and responsibility, exercise was the only safe way to do it.

I’d had a very indoor marriage – reading a book with a glass of wine, watching a film with a good whisky. There was a choice to be made, and my old way of life wouldn’t work any more. Compared with the danger of opening a bottle of whisky alone, stepping into a cold lake seemed hardly a risk at all.

The first time I swam out into Rydal Water I remember thinking “This is what it feels like to be alive.” And that feeling – of being alive, of being outside, of shedding a skin and becoming a new me – was what I began to seek out when things felt utterly desolate.

And they did, so often. For all the mental health benefits that cold water swimming and exercise are meant to bring, I can’t count the number of times I drove home from a lake swim crying, or collapsed into bed in a miserable heap after a long run. One day, shivering after a cold swim, I asked my friend – also going through a tough time – “those amazing euphoric feelings that you read about? When do they kick in?”

She replied, “I’m afraid we’ve probably already got them. I think we’re just starting from a really low bar.” And we stood and laughed hysterically as we fumbled back into our clothes.

I have rebuilt my life around exercise and female friendship. My own little band of wonderful wild women have kept me alive over the last two years, and I love them fiercely. They’re clever, funny, loving, sometimes slightly evil – I can’t say enough about them. It would make me cry.

I love my life. I’m happier now than I’ve been for years. Not every day – single parenting, being without my mum, they’re not always easy. We’re all dealing with something – with loneliness, with loss of dreams, with not having enough hours in the day.

Running, swimming, friendship – along with the yoga I’ve done for years – are the things I cling to when I’m feeling low. Ring your friends. Get out your yoga mat. Walk into a lake. Things will change, and all we can do is love what we have right now.

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A HUGE THANK YOU to Penny for sharing her story.

We are so happy to have met you and that you chose to spend some of your play time the Wonderful Wild Women Community, its been an absolute pleasure to have laughed, run & swum with you <3

Interview – Hanna Huhtonen of Primavera Coffee Importers

24/09/2019 / no comments

Interview

Hanna Huhtonen

of

Primavera Coffee Importers

Earlier this week, in collaboration with Redbank Coffee, the very first Wonderful Wild Women coffee blend was launched.

The first EVER offering comes from Guatemala’s Huehuetenango region. It is grown by Rosa Linda, Ana Marcos Morales and Miguela Morales, and is part of Guatemalan importer, Primavera Coffee ‘s Female Coffee Growers project.

Primavera’s Female Coffee Growers project supports female growers by paying them better prices, and by giving them micro-loans and technical assistance in order to help them continuously improve the quality of the coffee they produce.

We’re hugely proud and honoured to support this project and wanted to find out a bit more about one of the women who is making it all happen. Surfer, Yoga Teacher, Coffee lover and all round inspiring Wild Woman Hanna.

First of all, please could you give us a little introduction about yourself and PrimaVera Coffee

My name is Hanna-Maria Huhtonen. I’m 32 years old, Finnish and live on the coast of Portugal, in Ericeira. I’m a coffee professional, a yoga teacher, writer and a little bit obsessed with surfing. I studied history in the university but fell in love with coffee at the same time and have been working in the industry in various positions for over a decade. I combine my days between coffee, surfing, yoga and creating.

Primavera Coffee Importers is a boutique importer of coffees from Guatemala with deep roots in the country. Primavera started working with their own coffee farm and neighbors and now have expanded to represent over 100 producers, associations and cooperatives in the many coffee regions in Guatemala. Primavera is invested in representing the coffee producers in the best possible way, supporting the sustainable coffee production and empowering the local coffee producers. Primavera is based in Guatemala with a European office in Amsterdam.

Can you tell us how you came to work for Primavera?

I had worked in coffee importing in Australia for a couple of years and had returned to Europe to be close to my family in Finland. I lived in the Netherlands and missed the ocean and surfing and had decided to move to Portugal. With a common friend, we met with Nadine, the director of Primavera, in Amsterdam for a coffee and it was a match. Nadine is a driven, honest and knowledgeable woman who’s values are aligned with mine. We both thrive for the wellbeing of the producers, preserving of the nature and sustainable coffee trade.

What makes Primavera a different kind of coffee business?

It’s investments in the origin, continuous work to empower the producers and efforts towards a sustainable coffee production and trade. Primavera is an importing business who has deep roots in the country. Operations in the origin makes its links to the producers direct and connections and logistics straightforward. The fact that Primavera sources, mills, bags and exports all of its coffee is special and results in control in every step of the way.

Most importantly for me personally, Primavera is very invested in improving the livelihood of the producers and educating the future of coffee producers by organising a primary school, a weekend coffee school and empowering the young coffee producers and coffee leaders.

Photo credit Riemkje Poortinga

Can you tell us more about the surfing and the yoga you teach?

I grew up snowboarding in a country with no proper swell. I tried surfing in Norway, France and Costa Rica, but it wasn’t until I lived in Australia, near Bells Beach, that I began to surf. And very fast, I got obsessed. I find surfing as a deep way to connect with nature and live in the moment. I’ve always lived through my heart and intuition and surfing is a one way to express that. Living with the tides and the swells and the winds.. It just has something to it that I haven’t had with anything else. Adding good surf buddies and a healthy lifestyle to that mix – what else would you wish for?

Yoga has given a sort of similar way to connect with the now and the state of being for me as surfing but in a very different way. I started practising yoga more than 10 years ago and found that I felt more calm, centered and happy when I practised it mindfully. It also made my life more balanced since I am a highly curious and energetic person. Yoga brings me to my body, to listen to it and slow down. This is what I’ve wanted to share with other people as well and have learned through experience and research that yoga is a great tool for coping with anxiety, depression, stress and trauma. I am at the moment in the process of getting trained as a Trauma Center Trauma Sensitive Yoga Facilitator, which is a form of research based treatment designed specifically for complex and developmental trauma. I’m specially interested in working for the empowerment of females who have experienced sexual abuse.

And finally, what does community mean to you?

Everything. Community is really everything to me. As a person who has lived around the world (and hopefully has settled down now to the ocean), the people you share your normal life means so much. When your normal familiar support net from homeland is gone, you seek for similar kind of people around you and you keep them close. Coffee has a strong international community and I’m fortunate enough to have coffee friends almost in every corner of the world. A more local community I had in Jan Juc in Australia and now in Ericeira which I cherish and value highly. There is nothing better than sharing your day with your friends who also love the ocean, sustainable simple lifestyle and enjoying the moment. Sharing and communicating is an essential part of being a human being.

Photo credit Roza Kadi

A huge THANK YOU to Hanna for sharing with us a little insight into her world and Primavera Coffee.

If you are interested in finding out more about Hanna you can find her on Instagram

Taking Inspiration from River Deep or Mountain High

15/04/2019 / no comments

Taking Inspiration from River Deep or Mountain High

By Sarah Locke

I’ve been quite sure for sometime now that the most important and pivotal life lessons I have learnt in my 25 years have not come classrooms nor any form of taught schooling.

Whether or not you think we’re more shaped by nature or nurture, or a combination of the two, let’s not ignore the alternative meaning to the former. Nature is the way we are born, but I believe it has a complementary and very necessary role in defining who we are – I know this is true for me.

It’s true that some things I have learnt from the powerful people I’ve been surrounded by, but I am now sure, that the majority of the experiences and life lessons that truly make me myself, originate from being outdoors. Here are a few to share with you…

Tranquility from the river. Stress and anxiety are seemingly unavoidable traits of living in the age of today and while, social media, traffic, climate change, not to mention politics, are often overwhelming, there are things that can be done to alleviate it.

For me, wild swimming anywhere: the sea, rivers, lakes, meres, waters, large ponds, has no comparison when it comes to stress relief. Freshwater is less harsh than salt and brings a feeling of peace and calm – as opposed to the rough invigoration of saltwater. Choose the cure you’re looking for!

From experience, I’ve realized that, in the grips of anxiety I need something innate to physically take my breath away in place of the rushing thoughts that swamp me Cold is best on those occasions, but it’s the peacefulness of a river I’m drawn to when I feel a heaviness takeover.

Confidence from climbs. Heights are horrible and I won’t hear otherwise. Some revel in the challenge, sure, but we aren’t meant to enjoy vertigo. Yet, there’s something to be said for summiting mountains or even scaling via ferratas – it’s a feeling that’s so unnatural and so rewarding when you reach the top.

The accomplishment of a summit –be it the Himalayas or the South Downs – that feeling of I did this! Neither a fear of heights nor fitness can take that away. It doesn’t matter when or how you reach a mountaintop, you can take success and satisfaction, regardless, and I guess that’s what keeps me coming back.

Resilience from the waves. Saltwater is strong and unforgiving,

Resilience from the waves. Saltwater is strong and unforgiving, but in the same breath it’s reinvigorating and reenergising. In the face of heartbreak, anxiety and disappointment I’ve found the sea (Cornish is best) is a master of relief.

Pebbles or sand, it doesn’t matter. It’s the harshness and severity of salt water that counts. It’s the heaviness of being submerged under waves that strip away tensions, physically leaving me restored.

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Finally, perspective I take from the mountains. I have always loved being outdoors, but my heart truly yearns to follow the tightening of map contours. While the summits of French Alps, Atlas Mountains, Scotland, Snowdonia and even Kilimanjaro have all taken my affection in some way or another, the Brecon Beacons is my favourite place to flee to when I need to remind myself how to breathe.

One-foot-in-front-of-the-other offers a relaxing routine. The monotony allowing my mind to slip into a peaceful distraction. I like the all-consuming exertion that gradients physically demand, because it makes it almost impossible to think about work, home-life or any life other than the next foot placement.

I really believe there’s no other, easier, simpler (and cheaper) cure for most of life’s
ills than hopping on a train for some out-of- the-city-serenity!

To see more of Sarah’s adventures you can follow her on INSTAGRAM

The Ride of My Life

05/03/2019 / no comments

The Ride of My Life

By Danielle Lovett

In the middle of October 18 my world went into a spin, the build up over the preceding year or two had reached its climax. I finally caved into the pressure and admitted defeat; I wasn’t functioning as a human and couldn’t do my job. I was burnt out, mentally unwell, exhausted. I was all over the shop.

Around about the same time my path crossed with a nutter whose passion was mountain biking @adammtbrider86. I had dabbled a couple of times in what i thought was just “riding a bike in the woods”, but had no concept of the sport. He exposed me to the world of mountain biking and I became utterly obsessed.

Blake Samson started to feature in my dreams, teaching me how to jump. I watched red bull rampage in awe, Neil Donoghue voice was ruminating around my head telling me the steps to manual.

13 weeks ago I walked into @racecocyclesuk and Rich introduced me to my baby. I went 3 times over my budget but haven’t looked back since.

To obsess over how to do front wheel lifts, bunny hops and track stand, which I would practice in my living room, was therapy. Watching endless Global Mountain Bike Network clips stopped me from dwelling on my situation. Getting into the beautiful outdoors during autumn lifted the heaviness surrounding me. Alex at Chase Skills put me through the basics. I met two more awesome mtb nuts on his course, @b0z83 @a_song_of_blood_and_metal. We are equally obsessed and clueless. #allthegearnoidea. Adam has been a continuous source of motivation and help, coaching me and constantly telling me to relax!! He refers to me as a cardboard cut out on my bike. Brutal but true.

15 weeks ago i had no idea where I would be. I never expected to be sitting here covered in bruises with mud in my nails buzzing from an amazing ride at FoDmtb with MTB BEDS beaming from receiving a prize for being the most committed rider.

If it wasn’t for mountain biking I don’t think I would be where I am now. It has opened my world to an amazing sport, awesome people, beautiful places and facing fear and smashing it in the face.

On-wards and upwards or DH, if I grow a pair.

Danielle has started a blog to share her experience and bike adventures, check it out HERE.

Two Steps Forward

10/02/2019 / no comments

Two Steps Forward

By Cat Blyth

2018 was a game-changer. On Boxing Day, 2017 I finally succumbed to the increasingly painful sciatica which had bugged me for the previous five months. Having no idea what was coming I had just carried on, wincing and grimacing but, essentially, putting up with it and continuing to run, ferry my kids about, teach yoga, work. All the life stuff. My husband and I have sometimes had a conversation along the lines of, what would happen in one of us was incapacitated. For me it was simply unthinkable. As a busy working mum there was no scenario in which that was an option. Soldier on. That’s what we do, right? And then Boxing Day happened. The pain suddenly intensified. I was on the floor. Yet, true to form, I suggested a family walk, traditional on Boxing day in our house. My husband looked sceptical. We settled on a quick jaunt to the mushroom on Scout’s Scar, me hunched over in agony in the car as my family took turns to express concern for this outing. Gritting my teeth, I managed to cross the road from the car park and, in the frosty near-dark, began to climb the path up to the top. Suddenly this was my Everest. I slowed to a crawl, every step more painful than the one before. I didn’t know whether I wanted to pass out or vomit. I made it to the bench near the top, where I collapsed, urging them to leave me there. They did. I lay back on the frosty wood and focused on yogic breathing, praying for the excruciating pain to recede. I swam on the edge of somewhere dark, my mind unable to cope with the intensity. I remember focusing on being mindful; the crisp, freezing, clean air. The crescent moon and a smattering of stars, shining sharp and cold above me. The land felt expansive and still and I forced myself to focus on the beauty of it all. The thrill of being outside. Eventually my family returned, and I began the epic, glacial-slow journey back to the van. Finally deposited at home I stayed there. For the next four months. Incapacitated.

Fast forward to April. I honestly thought I was ‘cured’. I was pain free for the first time in months. I was walking (slowly) with my dog in the woods every day, watching the wild garlic gradually cover the floor with its rich, green carpet, listening to the air filling with bird song. I was recovered, and life was good.

I’m better, I said. I’m going back to work, I said. I’m starting up yoga classes again, I said. I’ll just have a quick practice drive, I said….. I had not driven our van since before Christmas. I felt a little excited, if I’m perfectly honest. I slid some reggae into the CD player, adjusted my seat, mindful of my lower back and all, and started the engine. Now, had I been thinking sensibly I would probably have taken someone with me who could take over the driving if it proved too much for me. But in my over-enthusiastic spirit of grabbing my new-found health and freedom by the balls, I did it alone. Lesson number one, right there. I only went across town and back. Almost immediately I realised how weak my bad leg still was. And how damn heavy our van is, how hard that clutch pedal. By the time I had reached my destination, a mere ten minutes away, I was in pain. My leg felt spent, exhausted, useless. My spine felt aggravated and unhappy. I could have wept with frustration at the prospect of having jeopardized my recovery with something so stupid as a quick drive across town. So, I was back to the floor. Back to the exercises. Back to square one? No, not quite. A small relapse, but I knew exactly what I needed to do to get back on track. And, most valuably, I had learnt how slow and fragile this healing process is and that I needed to go easy even if everything seemed ok.

Two steps forward, three steps back. It is frustrating. But maybe this is how the best progress is made in the long run. Maybe this forges a deeper respect and understanding for the process, offering bigger, more satisfying dividends in the end. I began to wonder, could I bring the same understanding to other areas of my life? I mean, isn’t this how so many of our best laid plans actually pan out? And how useful would it be to set out with the knowledge that this oscillating and meandering and back and forth-ing is all part of moving forward, all part of the journey. I guess the important thing, armed with this understanding, is not to give up at the down times, the three-step-back times, but to see it as a time to re-group, pause, take stock, breathe and step forward again when the time is right.

I have been doing a lot of intention setting of late, holding in the light of my mind the end game, the final outcome, the biggest dream. No matter how remote or impossible seeming, no matter how improbable or laughable or unlikely. Visualising that dream as though it is happening right now, already achieved, being loved and enjoyed. Holding the image at all times, while working on the baby steps to get there, building the road as I go, one brick at a time. I read a lot of stories online of inspirational folk who have manifested their heart’s desire in an instant, who asked and received, who focused on the dream and achieved it almost immediately. As I read these tales, I can almost hear the doors of opportunity slamming open for them, bang, bang, bang, one after another. And it can be so depressing if that isn’t what you experience. What am I doing wrong? Why is my dream still an unresolved blur, miles off in the distance? Why is every door slammed in my face, not flung open with invitation? Am I not worthy enough, talented enough, brave enough, likeable enough? It’s all too easy to wallow in that place of failure, rolling around happily in the mud of defeat and self-loathing. Get out! Claw your way out of that unhealthy mire.

How about we celebrate the journey, not the destination. Sure, keep that widest dream in your sights and, if it’s worth aiming for, make everything you do another step in the right direction, another brick in the road ahead. But be prepared for set-backs, relapses, closed doors. And most importantly, embrace them all. Pause and consider what the learning here is. Do you need to change route? Do you need to take some time to nourish your soul before moving on? Do you need to focus on something else right now which might, in the long run, help the process? A few days back on the floor in pain does not mean the road to recovery is washed down the mountainside. It may have some temporary traffic lights, that’s all. No need to do a u-turn in anger and shoot off up another road in a cloud of dust and frustration, a road which may lead you in the opposite direction from your destination. Take it easy. Take it slow. Walk, walk, walk. Rest. Walk, walk, walk. Rest.

‘There is no way to happiness, happiness is the way’. Thich Nhat Hanh

To read / see more from Cat check out her website and Instagram

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