That time of year

September 2018Yes it’s that time of year.  Cars full of families heading off to universities around the country and seeing these on the motorways always makes me smile.  Cars are stuffed full of duvets, books, bunting, bicycles, clothes, siblings and all kinds of pots and pans ready for the new academic year ahead.

Cumbria via North Wales

Except our university dash was a little different this year.  The first stage was getting up to North Wales where our younger daughter works as a sailing instructor.  Hannah was taking some “holiday” so she could complete the final leg of her Duke of Edinburgh Gold award.  Yep that’s right – GOLD!!!!!! Hannah was needing to join the other youngsters at different DofE stages for a 4 day hike across the Lake District in Cumbria.

While Hannah was hiking with her chums, complete with all of their provisions, tents and so on, we took the opportunity to stay in the area to enjoy the scenery.  One of the highlights was walking up the infamous Hardknott Pass.

Becky, Hardknott Pass
Becky, Hardknott Pass

The reasoning behind this was a nostalgic walk up Hardknott Pass which is reputed to be the cruelest and steepest climb in England.  The last time I was here was in 2014 when I cycled the 150 miles from Coast to Coast in a day.  The main Pass climb is just under a mile and the gradient is 30%, or 1 in 3 in old money. It was lovely, I thoroughly enjoyed it and it was pretty much as I remembered it from 2014.  It was a tough, relentless and cruel climb on a bike.  Sure I was grateful for my 1:1 granny gear to haul myself up, even so it was a tough climb especially with the front wheel lifting off the road a few times.  While this was the hardest climb of the day, there was plenty more climbing to do in the remaining 135 miles.

Knackered on Hardknott
Knackered on Hardknott

We also caught up with some friends who were also in the area and generally enjoyed the stunning scenery.  I managed a couple of runs and we also just got to the fascinating Auschwitz to Ambleside exhibition in Windermere.  This was very topical as I was reading a book given to be by a former colleague, Hitler, Stalin and I.  What brought the book to life was knowing the book was about my colleague’s mother-in-law.  Book review to follow.

Once the DofE was completed with soggy everything being stuffed into the car, we headed back down to Wales in returning Hannah to her workplace. This entails another night in a kind of box room, squeezed in between other odds bits of furniture and the continuous smell of wetsuits and all kinds of sailing gear.

Dash back home

Rachel, Becky and I headed home on the following day with growing concerns about the Toyota’s oil consumption.  While I had assured Rachel it would be okay, I was asking myself whether I was being too optimistic. We made it home alright, although Rachel a longer dipstick would probably be cheaper than yet another can of 10/40.

Dash to Exeter

No sooner had we got back home, it was a case of orchestrating a quick turnaround with Becky getting all of her belongings together for her return to Exeter.  Not sure why but every time we go there seems to be even more stuff.  Somewhere under that mound of bags, boxes and general clutter was her road bike and it’s oily chain, hopefully nicely protected (?).

This year Becky and four other girls were moving into a new house in Exeter. Every bit a student house with its dodgy plumbing, questionable electrics, smell of dampness and spartan furniture. Oh the days of student Life!  It was a real joy to see Becky meet up with her housemates, all fellow Christians and already good friends.  I remember commenting how they could well become life long friends and how this gets better with each decade to come.

Rachel stayed the night with Becky and her housemates.  I took the opportunity to catch a train to visit my mother in Weston-Super-Mare and Rachel joined me the following day.

All in all it has been a whirlwind of 1,000 miles driving.  Very tender times which I hope I can always remember. Seeing our two girls stepping out into the world in their own, but entirely different ways, is lovely for myself as their father.  In some ways they are stepping into an increasingly difficult, hard world and yet it is so exciting for them to do this.  Where will their paths take them?  Will they change career path at all? To what extent will their childhood effect their futures?  Have we equipped them well enough for the years ahead? Where will they live and settle down? What will they be like in years to come?

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