howies®

Yesterday I tripped upto Manchester to see Oi Poloi to show them the new Spring/Summer range for 2011.

I had 3 huge bags to show them so it was a driving mission, but this means passing up through North Wales and mountains.

Which also means Cader Idris on the way home. The run is from 300ft to 2854ft and back in 7 miles.

4pm I parked up, hid all my stuff round the car. Put on shorts, shoes and merino, stretched and plodded off to the steps.

The first few hundred feet are steps and stones that need a slow constant warming pace.

By the top of these I am drenched in sweat, breathing to the bottom of my lungs and my legs are burning.

The steps stop, the mountain still climbs on rocks, gravel and grass. The sun is in my eyes, my shades are off as the lenses are already sweat stained. I tap out a constant pace. I pass all the walkers coming off the hill to go home.

I try to thank them for moving aside but my breathing is too hard and I am beginning to descend into that level of concentration you need when pushing beyond.

I reach the lake and decide that today is the day to go right to the top, round and down. But I have bought no water or food.

The climb from the lake really kick. I can run short sections and then others it’s marching pushing on my legs. I pass another set of walkers who look at me with questioning faces.

The trail flattens for a short spell and I calm my breathing and concentrate hard on a smooth pace.

I run, march, run, march up and up feeling the onset of dehydration. When I look back this was the toughest bit. I run a sentence through my head over and over asking the next walkers if I can have some of their water. Will I ask, won’t I ask?  The last people thought I was mad. Who wants to speak to a sweating runner in the wilds.

No one comes along. I see bilberry bushes along the trail that all seem bare. I search harder and find that bushes in the shade of rocks have fruit. I eat every one I find no matter how ripe.  50 berries kick in. Pace rises.

I see the top with a ladder over a fence where I stop and look at the view. 44 minutes.  I look down to the lake and rejoice.

I then look along the ridge and see I still have a decent and another climb. A big climb. To higher than where I am.

I am not at the top.

I am super hot, vision is blurred and my hands feel tight and cramp like. And I am not at the top. I am a long way off and this knocks me.

I have a very long steep decent followed by a sharp climb. People are coming down and I can only just see them. Should I continue. Will going on be harder than going back. I can’t get this far and not do this. Now or never.

Top off, volume up, wipe face and down the slope. It is really steep and loose and I have trouble slowing down. I am worrying about injury and my ability to get round and I am making mistakes.

I meet the walkers at the bottom of the climb. They all smile and say hi and I cannot bring myself to ask for water. Am I embarrassed about being so far out and so unprepared?

I start the last climb. I can’t run, but I maintain my fast march. I look for bilberries but up this high there is nothing but rock. I look for pools of water, but the only ones are peaty.

Then there is the last gully to the trig point. It’s looks like a greek mountain. And then I am up.

I spend 10 minutes at the top. Absolute silence. Birds are on the floor resting. No wind. The Irish sea to the fore and North Wales behind. There is a rock shelter.

It all come back. My legs. My breath. My confidence. I have done it and now I just have to get back.

I hear voices and decide to descend.

The fist section is over grass. Steep and fast. Rocks appear. Picking a line has to be fast and acurate.

I then enter back into rocks and gravel and the perfect hip hip mix enters the head phones. I pick up the pace across the rocks despite the gradient feeling like vertical and relax into the tune. I dance down the boulders. The more I relax the faster I can be.

There is nothing right now but the rhythm and my rhythm.  I am now flying along and I have shoved the fear of falling away.

I join the path I climbed up on and know it’s steps all the way to the car. I pass all the walkers I passed on the climb. I replay the last track and dance the last decent to the car.

On the very last step I stop and whoop.

I am soaked, boiling hot, my knees and ankles are painful, my shoulders and back are stiff but I feel like I won.Further, higher, longer and faster.

And I beat my head.

September has only just began and…

the car parks are empty

the beaches are quiet

there are no queues in the supermarket or coffee shop

the mornings are clear & crisp

the berries are bursting out of the hedgerows

the evenings are drawing in

there’s a nip in the air before the sun goes down

jumpers are coming out of storage for snuggling into

there’s some surf on its way

hurray hurray hurray I love september

howies runs on two broadband lines. one out and one in.

Despite Steve getting us up and running on Friday we still only had one line so no e-mail for the shops.

Paul was on site today and spent the morning sending tones from our end down the line to the “pot” and from the exchange to the pot then joining the right wires.

And it worked! We have two lines again.

They widen the hole on our wire side later next week…

We have a bunch of new things at Carnaby St today. Jess is sorting out the new denim.

I’m scanning in the new merino bits (Men’s and Women’s. Seriously soft stuff).

And Sinead and Toby are handling the new window and wall display (Jess is helping with that too).

New stuff. Holding hands. Good times.

Jeff.

This week’s T-shirt of the Week is ‘Multitasker’

Modern life has its demands.
So much to do, so little time.
Work, play, family, money and updating your Facebook page.
That’s why modern man (but primarily woman)
has become so good at juggling.
It seems it’s now the only way we can function.
Just don’t drop the ball.

Click Here for the Men’s
Click Here for the Women’s

School starts
Early sunsets
Picking berries
Trees transforming
Eerie mists
Migrating birds
Bonfires burning
Evenings snuggling
Rustling leaves

Autumn is on its way. And so is our new catalogue.

A copy of our full catalogue, or one of our cut-down newspaper versions
should be landing on your doormat any day now.
New jackets, jeans, dresses and knitwear. And the story of our surf team’s
trip across Ireland in an old Winnebago.

Alternatively, you can go look at all that stuff on our website, where youíll also find a downloadable PDF version of the catalogue.

Click here for men’s
Click here for women’s

Here he is.

Man of the moment.

My favourite bloke today.

Steve from BT.

Repaired the cable in 30 minutes.

We are live live LIVE.

Despite a leaking broadband cable Ruben and David have headed off to the Cardigan shop with lap tops, hard drives, databases and cables to set live the new Autumn site.

So clear your desktop, file away your files, do a tweet, make a cuppa and prepare to have a browse.

Our broadband stopped yesterday.

So did next doors.

BT and everyone were no help despite many many phonecalls.

Then going home I saw the new hole in the ground that the construction company dug yesterday full of telephone wires.

So I went to have a look today and met Ray the massive  foreman and we had a look at the wires and I found this.

Despite us not having access to the world he did all the swearing.

Today we cannot download your orders, so if you need stuff give us a ring and we will get your order done over the phone and out.

01239 614122. Emma, Hollie and Ed are waiting.

And our Bristol, Cardigan and London stores are open as usual.

BT man due in 1 hour. Tick tock.

(From Chris Jackson @ Kingdom Bike)

Part 2 – The Riding.

After the incredibly slow drive to Åre in Northern Sweden for the 3rd round of the Maxi avalanche enduro cup, we were more than happy to wake up to sunshine and fresh mountain air. After the official morning coffee we’re back on our bikes and stuck into some epic riding.

The area around Åre is by no means the highest mountain range, with it’s peak at only 1420 metres it’s a mere blip compare to say the Alps, but don’t be fooled by this lack of altitude as it’s part of some of the most epic ‘big country’ in Europe.

When the sun shines the light and the expanse of sky become overpowering on top of any of the local peaks your view is uninterrupted for miles as the mountains just roll and roll only stopping to be punctuated by mountain lakes and more mountains. Riding in mountains you find yourself surrounded by huge house-sized boulders that dwarf the trails and make Northern Scandinavia so distinctive.

The riding here is simply Åresome (sorry!). There are so many trails littering the mountains it’s difficult to know which to start riding first with all of them keeping you grinning all day, and riding late into the evenings.

Even the light is epic, which also happens to last from 5am to about 10pm this time of year, it’s pretty much 24/7 daylight in June so if you fancy taking some taking epic nightrides, head north.

What do top mountain bike riders do when they are not racing or riding? They go on Facebook of course! James McKnight relaxing after a days riding…. And pre race training for the Maxi race.
More coming up in Part 3 when we cover the Maxi race, it might not be sunny so wear something waterproof.