A December Camp out in the Purbecks
Ya know when someone suggests doing something and before you’ve answered you know it has to be a yes? “Shall we have a camp out?” Lauren asked the question at our Christmas party. I mentioned it to Vicky who had been keen to join us on a camp out all year but due to child care commitments, hadn’t been able to make it work.
“Joel’s said he’ll take care of the kids”. We were locked in.
The last time I was in a bivvy was back in September at our birthday camp out. Just pack the same but more layers yeah? Perfect.
The plan was simple. Ride with NFORC in the morning in the Forest, get the train to Wareham, ride some ridgelines, couple a pub stops, camp at Winspit and back to Bournemouth for a roast by 16:00. Golden.
The penultimate social ride of the year was 10/10. There was a great turn out and we had a toast to celebrate being recognised by Bikepacking.com in their 2021 awards. It was cute.
We’ve been working on our group ride briefings and Sue nailed it by asking everyone to introduce themselves along with where they are from. With 20 people there, I thought it might take too long and people would get impatient to get going but 3 minutes in and already people were bonding over shared hometowns and local trails.
Pat, Lauren, Grace and I got the 1:37 train from Brockenhurst to Wareham where we met Vicky and Jay who’d been sat waiting for us by the river. We looked at our watches, we had about 2 hours of daylight left and a couple of the Purbecks gnarliest climbs before getting to the Scotts Arms where we planned to eat. Less go!
We made our way to Corfe via Arne, on the same quiet roads that people know from Brother in the Wild. I thought about how our humble group of 5 was a stark contrast to the mass of people that head out from the campsite on those September mornings.
When we got to the top of the first ridgeline, we all stopped to catch our breath and take in the light. This golden hour was summin’ else. The sun was setting over Portland in the distance and as we turned to see where we had come from, the clearest moon was rising over Poole harbour. It felt special and there was a tangible feeling of “this is already worth it”.
Since last riding in the Purbecks, I’d ridden over 10 alpine passes as part of the Torino Nice rally. I have a new attitude to hills now. Take it easy, just keep them legs spinnin’, slow and steady wins the race. As I caught up with the rest of the group, Vicky passed me a nettle, “full of vitamin C” apparently.
The Purbecks are punchy but the downhills are so rewarding and I was stoked to be on 2.25 inch tyres for the first time. I was determined to ride the downhills hard to make up for 2 years of riding on irresponsibly narrow 38’s.
We reached the Scott Arms after crossing Swyne Head in darkness and to the sound of owl calls echoing down in Chapman's pool.
Dinner, mulled cider and we were back on the bikes headed to the Square.
Pulling in at the Square before a campout at Winspit is the perfect ritual. The 400 year old pub provides everything you need before heading down to the water. Home made food and drink, roaring fires and staff happy to refill water bottles (including Lauren’s hot water bottle).
I had a glass of mead and a slice of homemade warm apple cake and Purbeck icecream whilst we tried to work out the rules of a 32 year old board game called ‘London’.
Local bike mechanic and Square punter, Dave sorted us out some wood for a fire and that was us ready to roll down to our spot for the night.
After struggling to get the fire lit, we got some help in the form of a firelighter from our neighbours, three guys who have been enjoying monthly campouts at Winspit for the last 35 years.
At about 11:00, I snuck away from the fire (more of a smoke bellow TBH), unrolled my sleeping mat, bag and bivy and settled down for the night.
I’m pretty used to bivvying now. I prefer a sack over a tent and I no longer stay awake worried about being murdered. However, I need to write some notes to self for next time for when I inevitably forget to do the following.
Take your bra off, that Rosie Huntington Whiteley M&S number was not designed with bivvying in mind and the underwire is not your friend.
You know you sleep better when you’ve washed your face. Don’t be lazy, just do it.
Take your jewellery off, just like you do at home. It will help your mind get ready for sleeping.
I don’t *think* I was cold but I did spend a good amount of time thinking about those silk sleeping bag liners people keep talking about and how much of a difference one might make to my temperature.
We were having breakfast when we spotted dolphins. We ran over to the cliff edge and all watched as 2 groups of fins made their way from right to left. It was a pretty special moment as it was the first time most of us were seeing Dolphins in Dorset, (what a wild sentence🤯).
One of the great things about camping at Winspit is that just as the Square serves as the perfect pitstop the night before, the Worth Matravers tea room is the perfect second breakfast spot. Vegan pasties and a piping hot espresso sets you up for day 2.
We said goodbye to Vicky at the team rooms as Joel, and her 3 beautiful children Elvis, Frank and Seabas and family dog Sophia came to meet her. The campout was the second night in 7 years Vicky has spent away from her children.
The rest of us carried on, back to Corfe before tackling Brenscombe Hill and our favourite descent down to Old Harry’s Rocks, this time in thick mist.
We made it to the chain ferry for 3:00 and were having a roast at The Brew House in Bournemouth at 4:00. (They do bottomless roast potatoes and gravy, just a side note 🤤)
Just like with any bikepacking adventure, we did a whole lotta living in a short amount of time.
It was a great reminder of what you get to experience if you just say yes and get out there. A full moon rising, a majestic golden hour, a crucial fire lighter from new neighbours, a brilliant roast and Dorset dolphins. All within 26 hours.
You can see the route we rode here.
📸@jaywaldon
