By: Blonde Two
It has to be said that Blonde One and I are pretty good at packing. Give us a Dartmoor wild camp, a Welsh bunkhouse stay or an overseas trip to climb mountains; we are up to the packing challenges of most excursions. We like to think that we manage with the bare minimum which we obviously do, but I suspect that one man’s bare minimum is not the same as another Blonde’s. For example, neither Blonde will contemplate a night on Dartmoor without a pillow, a light to hang up in the tent and some mascara.
Our packing skills however, have been stretched to the limit over the last couple of days. Blonde One was struggling to leave work (our wonderful stores will be unavailable for a couple of weeks) with the required equipment for both a night in a Dartmoor bunkhouse and a DofE camp site expedition (both due to happen in the next few days).
I (with a slight hangover) had to pack two bags yesterday, one for a night in a hotel on Exmoor (where I really did do nothing) and one for the Dartmoor bunkhouse trip. This double-booking packing was my own fault because, when checking my diary before booking the hotel, I had mistakenly assumed that there were two Mondays this week – one for DofE walks and the other for hotel leisure.
I have spotted no errors in my packing so far and I am sure that Blonde One has not either. We have even remembered to put my blue enamel stock pot into her Landy boot. I am not sure that either of us understand why exactly we have done this but it will come to us at some point.
My looming redundancy has forced me to contemplate the possibility of different career paths – maybe there is a place in the world for the role of “Personal-Packer”.
Your posts frequently spark off reminiscences, and at the risk of being a boring old raconteur here is another.
The year 1999 – a frock climbing trip to Orpierre in Haute-Provence with three others. Departing the gîte one morning my old climbing pal Tony found he needed his camera which he had unthinkingly put at the bottom of his rucksack. He proceeded to unpack, and we gathered round in a little circle. The camera was retrieved and Tony then randomley stuffed everything back into the sack in seconds with no consideration whatsoever for order or rationale.
With perfect timing (a rare occurrence for me) I said “There you see the fruits of thirty years experience of rucksack packing “
You can be my personal packer if you like – hate packing and always go overboards especially with the kids!!! Might draw a line at you packing my pants though!!!!
We are particularly good at packing pants!
Packing just 3 pairs of pants for 8 days in Morocco was a bit terrifying!
Hee – memoris of a bemused salesman in a mountain walkers’ shop in the Lakes. “I can’t fit my camcorder into my rucksack and I’m going bivouacking. Can I look at that little orange rucksack, please?”
“It won’t hold that great big camcorder AND all you need for a night out.”
“Well the camcorder would go in that front zip pocket. Let’s see.”
Tips out contents of own rucksack on floor. “The bus goes in 5 minutes. Now then, need bivouack bag & sleeping bag – minute cooker & tiny pan & cup, waterproof top – I’ll wear the bottoms. Don’t need this – or this – better take the water & food -rest can go bck in old bag. There you are – all ready. I’ll pay for that, then – can you keep my old rucksack here for me until I pick it up the day after tomorrow? Thanks – there’s just time for the bus. Cheerio.
“I’ve never seen anything like it – – -” (He was talking to a cloud of dust – I was leaping on the bus as he spoke.
Cheerio!
That is a fantastic story and well told. I can picture the scene in my head. I hope the trip was successful and you got your rucksack back at the end!