Once someone I know asked me if greenlining was dangerous, and I replied that hopefully never had an accident involving the emergency services, party to the slow speeds most convoys travel. However there was one occasion which made us all think and leave with due haste.
It’s a family greenlane day out on the Roman road near the A470 south of Betws in the middle of the forest. Its was a windy day so we stopped for a break next to the Roman Mile stone, the children went off to play, while the adults all hung round for a chat. Without warning a very large tree just crashed to the ground about 200 yards behind us completely blocking the path and taking out a large section to the dry brick wall. There was no warning and very little noise, only about four of us saw it, the tree just heeled over.
After the fall, the shock of the event sank in, parents quickly collected their children, a head count taken. A few went to examine the fallen tree incase any one such as ramblers were injured, as a some had passed us minutes before,. thankfully no one was. We left the scene with some haste and were glad to get back onto the moor later that day.
Within a week the tree had gone, apprentanly fallen trees are regarded as fair gain for those living in the country burning log fires, only the hole in the wall remains..
Sunday, 14 January 2007
Friday, 12 January 2007
The Train
This happened over 12 years ago now, when greenlaning as we know it now was getting popular, a group of about vehicles were on a lane which crosses an un manned level crossing in Wales.
The crossing was blocked by a small freight train, but not and ordinary one, it was the infamous “Nuke” train which carries the nuclear waste from the Nuclear power stations. It was having problems getting up a slight incline due to the leaves and general slime on the line. The group got out and watched the staff try all kinds of methods to gain grip, they were scraping the track with shovels and rods of metal, placing stones on the line etc. A conversation soon started between the group and the railwaymen and it was suggested they use sand, they explained they had some, but the supply was depleted from previous problems further down the line.
No problem explained the group leader he has seen a heap of the stuff outside a farm perhaps the farmer could let them have some. After a quick trip to the farm the leader returned with the farmer, who was concerned about access to his farm been blocked, and with about ½ ton of the stuff in the back of the landy.
With a total disregard to H&S the group adults mucked in, carrying sand on spades and shovels on to the permanent way and placed it onto the tracks, Whist this went on no one noticed the children who started playing on the flask wagons. The railwaymen by now were quite relieved for the help. They had been stuck there for sometime without communication to the signalman, this due to something called single train running.
Then the parents noticed the kids playing on the train and the usual jokes started such as get down from there you’ll be fried, look its the "Readybrek" kids and you will turn into an Aliean. However the guard stepped in and gave them a tour of the brake van and engine. The track finally covered in red sand everyone moved out of the way, and the train proceeded effortless, with the usual waves and goodbyes from the driver and guard.
The whole event exploded some myths about the train, no 20 armed SAS guards in the brake van, nor a "hot line" to RAF strike command, the flasks are not hot, the driver does not have 2 inch lead plate behind the seat, guiyer counters are not carried, nor is there 2 dead mans handles. However not a single photo came out due to the radiation from the train destroying the film......
Years later we still laugh about it, it just would not happen now, lots have changed in the last decade. People find this story hard to believe so we keep it to ourselves, but quietly laugh when we here rescue stories, now we recovered a train weighing about 300 tons, or was it 299.99 due to half life loss (LOL). It’s a joke about the photos, did get some, but its on film, and yet to get them transferred digital.
The crossing was blocked by a small freight train, but not and ordinary one, it was the infamous “Nuke” train which carries the nuclear waste from the Nuclear power stations. It was having problems getting up a slight incline due to the leaves and general slime on the line. The group got out and watched the staff try all kinds of methods to gain grip, they were scraping the track with shovels and rods of metal, placing stones on the line etc. A conversation soon started between the group and the railwaymen and it was suggested they use sand, they explained they had some, but the supply was depleted from previous problems further down the line.
No problem explained the group leader he has seen a heap of the stuff outside a farm perhaps the farmer could let them have some. After a quick trip to the farm the leader returned with the farmer, who was concerned about access to his farm been blocked, and with about ½ ton of the stuff in the back of the landy.
With a total disregard to H&S the group adults mucked in, carrying sand on spades and shovels on to the permanent way and placed it onto the tracks, Whist this went on no one noticed the children who started playing on the flask wagons. The railwaymen by now were quite relieved for the help. They had been stuck there for sometime without communication to the signalman, this due to something called single train running.
Then the parents noticed the kids playing on the train and the usual jokes started such as get down from there you’ll be fried, look its the "Readybrek" kids and you will turn into an Aliean. However the guard stepped in and gave them a tour of the brake van and engine. The track finally covered in red sand everyone moved out of the way, and the train proceeded effortless, with the usual waves and goodbyes from the driver and guard.
The whole event exploded some myths about the train, no 20 armed SAS guards in the brake van, nor a "hot line" to RAF strike command, the flasks are not hot, the driver does not have 2 inch lead plate behind the seat, guiyer counters are not carried, nor is there 2 dead mans handles. However not a single photo came out due to the radiation from the train destroying the film......
Years later we still laugh about it, it just would not happen now, lots have changed in the last decade. People find this story hard to believe so we keep it to ourselves, but quietly laugh when we here rescue stories, now we recovered a train weighing about 300 tons, or was it 299.99 due to half life loss (LOL). It’s a joke about the photos, did get some, but its on film, and yet to get them transferred digital.
Thursday, 11 January 2007
Lost Completely
People get lost in Wales, but what makes things harder is there is too many place names with the same name, but this one was a real laugh.
On the Llandrillo side of the Wayfarer at one of the starts, there is a small corpse just where the UCR ends and the track begins. Leading a convoy in mid week during the summer of 2005, we came across a very smart man sitting in a brand new ordinary modern car fiddling with his Sat-Nav. We stopped and asked him if he was planning to do the Wayfarer in such a vehicle. No he replied, he was completely lost, he was looking for Llandrillo College.
We couldn’t stop laughing Llandrillo College is 30 odd miles away on the coast near Colwyn Bay. He explained that he was a Sales rep, had got an appointment late in the previous evening and just typed in Llandrillo. Upon entering the village asked for directions, someone with a funny sense of humour said “know a short cut mate, just go out of the village the way you came, turn right at the phone box, up the hill to the top, along the track to the left, back entrance over the ridge”.
He was non to happy, we helped him re program the Sat Nav to Rhos-on-Sea and sent him on his way. One of our local laners says they get a few every year asking were the College is, it’s a local joke so if they are that lost they send them off in all directions.
On the Llandrillo side of the Wayfarer at one of the starts, there is a small corpse just where the UCR ends and the track begins. Leading a convoy in mid week during the summer of 2005, we came across a very smart man sitting in a brand new ordinary modern car fiddling with his Sat-Nav. We stopped and asked him if he was planning to do the Wayfarer in such a vehicle. No he replied, he was completely lost, he was looking for Llandrillo College.
We couldn’t stop laughing Llandrillo College is 30 odd miles away on the coast near Colwyn Bay. He explained that he was a Sales rep, had got an appointment late in the previous evening and just typed in Llandrillo. Upon entering the village asked for directions, someone with a funny sense of humour said “know a short cut mate, just go out of the village the way you came, turn right at the phone box, up the hill to the top, along the track to the left, back entrance over the ridge”.
He was non to happy, we helped him re program the Sat Nav to Rhos-on-Sea and sent him on his way. One of our local laners says they get a few every year asking were the College is, it’s a local joke so if they are that lost they send them off in all directions.
Left behind
Have come across a few laners over the years who have decided to do it alone, and we do it ourselves sometimes. Provided you know were you are going and have a workable rescue plan we think its ok.
It was March, cold and wet, we were eastbound on the Llandrillio side of the Wayfarer when we came across a Disco stuck on “Diff lost stone”, the occupants were a family of four, clearly novices, who were very glad to see us. The lady passenger had been quite upset and the children crying, the father had tired to lift the vehicle with the jack but this proved to be impossible.
Without passing judgement we assisted in the recovery, it wasn‘t difficult but tricky, the stone has become stuck just under the front cross-member, the driver had become more concerned about damage so was been cautious..
After recovery the couple told us their story, they had paid for a commercial group £50 for a Greenlane trip. They had got to the top of the Wayfarer with the group and stopped for a break. The two children had gone off to play, the group started off and just left them behind. They tired to follow, but got as far as the wash out, then decided to go back the way they came and got stuck. They had never been off road before, and this was their first lane. They joined us for the rest of the day and enjoyed it, so much so they often join us now.
Its not the only time I’ve seen trucks left on there own, have witnessed it among groups I have been with. It happens, so count you trucks.
Couple of months later I spoke to the organiser who remembered them, he stated people often just disappear from the group or get lost on the UCR’s. They were in the middle, the drivers behind panicked and overtook them, but no one passed on the information. To confuse matters someone had decided to follow the large convoy, without booking or payment so vehicle numbers matched up. It was assumed the non payers had stayed behind.
It was March, cold and wet, we were eastbound on the Llandrillio side of the Wayfarer when we came across a Disco stuck on “Diff lost stone”, the occupants were a family of four, clearly novices, who were very glad to see us. The lady passenger had been quite upset and the children crying, the father had tired to lift the vehicle with the jack but this proved to be impossible.
Without passing judgement we assisted in the recovery, it wasn‘t difficult but tricky, the stone has become stuck just under the front cross-member, the driver had become more concerned about damage so was been cautious..
After recovery the couple told us their story, they had paid for a commercial group £50 for a Greenlane trip. They had got to the top of the Wayfarer with the group and stopped for a break. The two children had gone off to play, the group started off and just left them behind. They tired to follow, but got as far as the wash out, then decided to go back the way they came and got stuck. They had never been off road before, and this was their first lane. They joined us for the rest of the day and enjoyed it, so much so they often join us now.
Its not the only time I’ve seen trucks left on there own, have witnessed it among groups I have been with. It happens, so count you trucks.
Couple of months later I spoke to the organiser who remembered them, he stated people often just disappear from the group or get lost on the UCR’s. They were in the middle, the drivers behind panicked and overtook them, but no one passed on the information. To confuse matters someone had decided to follow the large convoy, without booking or payment so vehicle numbers matched up. It was assumed the non payers had stayed behind.
Lost Keys (and how to find them)
Lost keys
We were leading a commercial group of about six novice laners, all were from different walks of life, a right mix. Within the group was the "Have all the gear, no idea", the perfect family with the brand new 110, the ordinary bloke on his own in a Disco, and a couple of quiet country gents in a basic 90. As with all commercial groups there was a general tendency to get on and do as many lanes as possible for their money. Often there is a little fiction between them all, but none as more as between the "Perfect family" and the others, this was mainly due to them been from the London area, having an expensive new truck, clothes etc and also not concerned with the pace. I can understand them having children, but they requested stops on every lane for photo shoots and the like, great for me having done it all before, but the others wanted value for money.
We were on the return leg of the last lane the Llyn Aled run, it was an October Sunday, late in the evening, getting dark and raining. Anyone who has been up there knows what dark is, it gets pitch black and quick. As usually drivers get tried, the Disco got bottomed out, no one bothered much, as usual everyone got out to watch the recovery ,which went well. All returned to their trucks looking forward to home, warmth and a meal. As I went past the couple with the 110 I heard the muttering, "you got them darling in the top pocket", "no" as he padded the rest of his jacket.
Yes they had lost there keys, but worst they had centrally locked the 110, the rest of the group look amazed then worried and looked to me for advice. I can deal with most things, but when someone loses there rag ,things go to pot. One of the gents in the 90 did just that, he was quiet all day, but they can be the worst. What he said was true, that in that in middle of a convoy, in the on a bleak mountain moor at 5.30 on a dark rainy night, no one's going to run up and drive off with your vehicle. That said, it was the way he did it, reducing the little girls to tears, problem was the mother as expected got protective and launched into a verbal rant on how hard they worked, sacrifices they had made size of their mortgage etc . It took a few minutes for the rest of us to calm things down and sort the problem out. I could see why he did, its habit, and I could understand that. However what I did like is how a group can came together and got on with solving the problem. After some discussion, breaking in and getting it started seems out of the question because of fancy pants electronics etc. Best bet was to find the keys. By now he was realised how they were lost, because his new Helly- Henson jacket had a hole to allow access to trouser pockets and was not a pocket in itself.
We started a inch by inch search just like the police do with bits of long reed grass not easy considering the lost of light, groase and the long grass. But quickly in a small area found nothing, then someone started to question him to as his movements. Its seemed he had walked along the centre of the lane, on the nice short grass the sheep had eaten in order not to get his feet muddy, however there was a few inches of muddy water in the ruts themselves. By now it was dark, the members of the group went back to there trucks to look for torches.
Suddenly the disco bloke had a bright idea, he remembered he had a metal detector in the back of his disco, still in the box! He had purchased it in an Adli sale on the previous Thursday for a Xmas present, but had yet to un load it. After undoing the packing and spending another 10 minutes looking for a 9volt battery, and reading the instructions in the dark, we got it going, and started searching over the water filled ruts. We found an alarming number of nails, bare wire, a shackle pin, and finally a set of 110 keys with fob.
All this happened a few years ago, but still laugh about it, the chain of events amazes us, the rare combination of who centrally locks their car up on a remote welsh moor and who carries a metal detector around with them.
Posted by Greenlaners at 08:59 0 comments
We were leading a commercial group of about six novice laners, all were from different walks of life, a right mix. Within the group was the "Have all the gear, no idea", the perfect family with the brand new 110, the ordinary bloke on his own in a Disco, and a couple of quiet country gents in a basic 90. As with all commercial groups there was a general tendency to get on and do as many lanes as possible for their money. Often there is a little fiction between them all, but none as more as between the "Perfect family" and the others, this was mainly due to them been from the London area, having an expensive new truck, clothes etc and also not concerned with the pace. I can understand them having children, but they requested stops on every lane for photo shoots and the like, great for me having done it all before, but the others wanted value for money.
We were on the return leg of the last lane the Llyn Aled run, it was an October Sunday, late in the evening, getting dark and raining. Anyone who has been up there knows what dark is, it gets pitch black and quick. As usually drivers get tried, the Disco got bottomed out, no one bothered much, as usual everyone got out to watch the recovery ,which went well. All returned to their trucks looking forward to home, warmth and a meal. As I went past the couple with the 110 I heard the muttering, "you got them darling in the top pocket", "no" as he padded the rest of his jacket.
Yes they had lost there keys, but worst they had centrally locked the 110, the rest of the group look amazed then worried and looked to me for advice. I can deal with most things, but when someone loses there rag ,things go to pot. One of the gents in the 90 did just that, he was quiet all day, but they can be the worst. What he said was true, that in that in middle of a convoy, in the on a bleak mountain moor at 5.30 on a dark rainy night, no one's going to run up and drive off with your vehicle. That said, it was the way he did it, reducing the little girls to tears, problem was the mother as expected got protective and launched into a verbal rant on how hard they worked, sacrifices they had made size of their mortgage etc . It took a few minutes for the rest of us to calm things down and sort the problem out. I could see why he did, its habit, and I could understand that. However what I did like is how a group can came together and got on with solving the problem. After some discussion, breaking in and getting it started seems out of the question because of fancy pants electronics etc. Best bet was to find the keys. By now he was realised how they were lost, because his new Helly- Henson jacket had a hole to allow access to trouser pockets and was not a pocket in itself.
We started a inch by inch search just like the police do with bits of long reed grass not easy considering the lost of light, groase and the long grass. But quickly in a small area found nothing, then someone started to question him to as his movements. Its seemed he had walked along the centre of the lane, on the nice short grass the sheep had eaten in order not to get his feet muddy, however there was a few inches of muddy water in the ruts themselves. By now it was dark, the members of the group went back to there trucks to look for torches.
Suddenly the disco bloke had a bright idea, he remembered he had a metal detector in the back of his disco, still in the box! He had purchased it in an Adli sale on the previous Thursday for a Xmas present, but had yet to un load it. After undoing the packing and spending another 10 minutes looking for a 9volt battery, and reading the instructions in the dark, we got it going, and started searching over the water filled ruts. We found an alarming number of nails, bare wire, a shackle pin, and finally a set of 110 keys with fob.
All this happened a few years ago, but still laugh about it, the chain of events amazes us, the rare combination of who centrally locks their car up on a remote welsh moor and who carries a metal detector around with them.
Posted by Greenlaners at 08:59 0 comments
All the gear, no idea
All the gear, no idea.
The phase comes from a group based in the North West for whom I have a great respect for, it sums up those who buy all the extra gear, yet have no idea how use it.. This story concerns 2 lads who had spent considerable time and money kitting out there truck capable of doing anything. They had been on various play-days and had proved with aggressive tires, and a hi-lift kit that their truck could get though everything. Yet play-day venues tend to be artificial, with ready to hand access to recovery equipment. Greenlanes in my opinion is the real world, lanes can be tougher and more remote, as these lads were going to find out.
It was the end of Llyn Aled, this lane always amazes me as to the number of incidents that have happen to me over the years. The group got to the end and despite the warning, the lads went off determined to get to the boat house. At great speed they flew onto the bog, and got further than anyone I know, yet as usual the further you get is often the deeper you go, and this was no exception. They sank like a rubber brick, slow at first, but with all wheels spinning faster as they tired to no avail to get outThen I began to get worried, its not muddy bog, but water with clumps of reed grass sticking out, within a few minutes the water line was up to the mirrors. The lads glazed in amazement unable to open the doors, instead squeezed though the windows and to their horry slipped into the bog, up to there chests, arms flat, making absolutely no head way.
This was late November, but up here more like mid-winter, there was a biting wind, the ground almost freezing with little or no sun to warm it up during the day, the cold water coupled with lack of suitable clothing soon took there toll on the two very frightened lads. In the very fast fading light, the some of the group, realised the seriousness of the situation. They gathered around and started a rescue plan, but despite linking tow ropes together were unable to reach the two men who were unable to move without sinking further in the swamp. The bog in places had turned to quicksand and was sucking them in. Its a strange situation to be in, unable to swim because its too thick, but also unable to get a decent footing as there is no hard surface. The shock of the cold water had taken there toll, they were by now clinging to the reed grass clumps, They started to panic requesting a quicker response from the rest of the group, some of which were still taking photos. The truck itself had only the cab showing and a good several feet away from the men.
Then as always someone who had bright idea, why not use the bonnets seats etc as rafts or stepping stones, within seconds two Series bonnets where thrown into position and a lightest of the group, a brave young lad of about 12, had thrown a rescue rope to one of the lads. It took a considerable effort to pull him out, then the ladies of the group took great delight in administrating first aid and mountain survival techniques. (striping him off).The second lad proved to be more of a problem, they got a rope to him, but every attempt ended in him almost drowning, he was now because of exposure more panicky. He had not the strength to help himself and we not the strength to pull him out, he ended up clinging for dear life on the clumps of grass. The decision was made to use a truck to pull him out, although some members of the group were not happy with this, but time was of the essence and thankfully that’s what we did .The two lads were rapped up in towels and spare clothes, placed in a warm truck, quickly recovered non too worse for there ordeal, by now it was dark so we abandoned the truck and gave them lift home.
On the following Tuesday we returned to the bog, getting to the truck was easy there was about 4 inches of ice surrounding the vehicle, thick enough to walk on. It took two tractors to pull it out at a cost of £300.
Posted by Greenlaners at 18:40 0 comments
The phase comes from a group based in the North West for whom I have a great respect for, it sums up those who buy all the extra gear, yet have no idea how use it.. This story concerns 2 lads who had spent considerable time and money kitting out there truck capable of doing anything. They had been on various play-days and had proved with aggressive tires, and a hi-lift kit that their truck could get though everything. Yet play-day venues tend to be artificial, with ready to hand access to recovery equipment. Greenlanes in my opinion is the real world, lanes can be tougher and more remote, as these lads were going to find out.
It was the end of Llyn Aled, this lane always amazes me as to the number of incidents that have happen to me over the years. The group got to the end and despite the warning, the lads went off determined to get to the boat house. At great speed they flew onto the bog, and got further than anyone I know, yet as usual the further you get is often the deeper you go, and this was no exception. They sank like a rubber brick, slow at first, but with all wheels spinning faster as they tired to no avail to get outThen I began to get worried, its not muddy bog, but water with clumps of reed grass sticking out, within a few minutes the water line was up to the mirrors. The lads glazed in amazement unable to open the doors, instead squeezed though the windows and to their horry slipped into the bog, up to there chests, arms flat, making absolutely no head way.
This was late November, but up here more like mid-winter, there was a biting wind, the ground almost freezing with little or no sun to warm it up during the day, the cold water coupled with lack of suitable clothing soon took there toll on the two very frightened lads. In the very fast fading light, the some of the group, realised the seriousness of the situation. They gathered around and started a rescue plan, but despite linking tow ropes together were unable to reach the two men who were unable to move without sinking further in the swamp. The bog in places had turned to quicksand and was sucking them in. Its a strange situation to be in, unable to swim because its too thick, but also unable to get a decent footing as there is no hard surface. The shock of the cold water had taken there toll, they were by now clinging to the reed grass clumps, They started to panic requesting a quicker response from the rest of the group, some of which were still taking photos. The truck itself had only the cab showing and a good several feet away from the men.
Then as always someone who had bright idea, why not use the bonnets seats etc as rafts or stepping stones, within seconds two Series bonnets where thrown into position and a lightest of the group, a brave young lad of about 12, had thrown a rescue rope to one of the lads. It took a considerable effort to pull him out, then the ladies of the group took great delight in administrating first aid and mountain survival techniques. (striping him off).The second lad proved to be more of a problem, they got a rope to him, but every attempt ended in him almost drowning, he was now because of exposure more panicky. He had not the strength to help himself and we not the strength to pull him out, he ended up clinging for dear life on the clumps of grass. The decision was made to use a truck to pull him out, although some members of the group were not happy with this, but time was of the essence and thankfully that’s what we did .The two lads were rapped up in towels and spare clothes, placed in a warm truck, quickly recovered non too worse for there ordeal, by now it was dark so we abandoned the truck and gave them lift home.
On the following Tuesday we returned to the bog, getting to the truck was easy there was about 4 inches of ice surrounding the vehicle, thick enough to walk on. It took two tractors to pull it out at a cost of £300.
Posted by Greenlaners at 18:40 0 comments
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