Into The Woods

We’d had it in the diary for weeks. A camping weekend with friends Matt (of Matt the notebook cover fame) and Anne-Marie to christen some new Millican products, coming soon. With ace photographer, Moy Williams, in attendance with his trusty camera. Moy is Millican’s main man when it comes to stunning visuals - a genius at capturing textures, landscapes and special moments on film.

Day 1

Praying for good weather, we pack up our camping gear and new bags in the Bongo and head down the road by Derwent Water to the quaint village of Grange. Then it’s onto a bumpy track to our weekend base deep in the woods. This is Hollows Farm where we’ve hired a bell tent, just down the valley from Millican Dalton’s cave on Castle Crag.

Our room with a view

The campsite is set in a magical woodland of mossy rock outcrops, ancient oaks and ferns galore. And there’s our bell tent nestling among trees on the grassy slopes. Perfect.

Day 2

We’re up with the lark to catch the morning light from Latrigg, a small fell overlooking Keswick.

Matt with Stephen the 2-in-1 waist pack and shoulder bag

We hike up the fell with our gear, with only sheep and crows for company, while Moy bags some stunning shots at the crest.

At the top of Lattrigg

Then it’s back down to Keswick market, a fixture every Saturday. Matt, Ann-Marie and I tour the market, buying food for the evening’s barbecue – including Cumberland sausages from Saddleback Foods and Smokery . Genius. Plus local fruit and veg, delicious cakes and homemade breads.

Fruit and veg stall, Keswick market

Afterwards, we head down Borrowdale Valley and have a natter with the helpful folk at Plattypus, the sailing and canoeing school by Derwent Water. Amazing to think we’re just below the crags where Millican Dalton first set up his own camp almost a century ago. Admiring the stunning wooden boats on the lake, Matt and I decide to take the canoes out for a paddle with Moy snapping photos as we go.

Canoes by Derwent Water

Time to return to camp for a slap-up picnic next to the bell tent. We’ve invited more family and mates along, they’ve all volunteered to be photographic models for a barbecue shoot. They’re there to support the growing Millican community, of course. Nothing to do with the Cumberland sausages.

BBQ in full swing

While some go fishing or rock scrambling, most of us chill out in stripy deckchairs or on the rug laid out under the ancient oaks. Finally, grilled on smouldering white coals, the grub is ready – sausages, fresh lamb chops, fresh mackerel, and local breads from celeb chief Peter Sidwell’s great café Good Taste. All washed down with Lakeland beer. A great way to end the day.

Day 3

A drizzly start, in contrast to the previous day, but then this is the Lakes. It wouldn’t be authentic if we only showed blue skies in our shots. Wet, damp and moody is the order of the day.

And as far as Moy is concerned, the damp drizzle makes for fantastic drops of water hanging off the handle-bars of our 1947 Raleigh Clubman bike. Next he has a laugh snapping me braving the icy waters of the babbling stream for a wash. More for my cries of pain than my remarkable torso, I’m sure.

Jonathan the roll wash ready for action

As we’re packing up, Moy spots a photo opportunity - some great shots of the whole Millican range of products stacked up in the boot of the Bongo – bags and washbags, jostling between tent, wellies, gas bottle and barbecue.

By now, the rain’s chucking down. Moy’s assistant Ollie is shadowing Moy and his expensive camera gear wherever he goes with a massive umbrella over head. It’s a full product shot that we didn’t manage to pull off last year. Delighted to finally get it “in the bag” (no pun intended), courtesy of the Bongo, and Moy of course.

All our gear in the Bongo

Finally our weekend in the wood comes to an end. We all head to the nearby train station, down the M6 or home. Nicky and I collapse in a heap with our mates to have a drink. It’s been a great weekend. And we need to wet the 2010 shots after all. Cheers, Moy!

Kylie, Nigella & the Single Malt

It’s been great to begin our partnership with The Balvenie Whisky, in celebration of the craftsmanship that we value in our own and each other’s products. I caught up recently with Andy Forrester,The Balvenie’s UK Ambassador, on a mission to learn more about the distinctive joys of producing malt whisky and about the art and craft that underlies Balvenie’s production process.

The Cooper at work, photo courtesy of The Balvenie

Andy, a passionate educator about whisky, travels the length and breadth of the United Kingdom, extolling the delights of The Balvenie and encouraging a spirit of exploration and discovery in die-hard whisky fanatics and newcomers alike.

His background lies, surprisingly, in plant molecular biology, a subject he was studying at PhD level at York University when a malt whisky testing evening at his local off-licence, Oddbins caught his attention. Having got drunk and passed out at the testing, he ended up working part-time at Oddbins, running whisky tastings himself, and then moving on to work for a whisky company targeting the younger market. A few years later, he was offered the role as national Ambassador for The Balvenie. It’s a task that he has embraced with enthusiasm, vigour, and rather more self-moderation than at the original tasting evening.

To hear Andy laud the wonders of different whiskies is a joy. Here one is in the presence of a connoisseur but also a natural communicator. Thus, a 15-year old Single Barrel Malt is compared to Kylie Minogue - a bright, lively whisky that dances on the palate. By contrast, The Balvenie Double Wood is a bigger, more voluptuous personality - a Nigella Lawson of whiskies. While Port Wood is described as gliding on the palate - like an elegant ballroom dancer from ‘Come Dancing’, nothing shy and retiring here. As Andy emphasizes, whisky is not simply about flavour but about feel and texture. And one can sense that in his distinctive analogies and metaphors.

At the same time, he treasures the particular classic traditions involved in Balvenie production, regarding its Speyside distillery as a contemporary museum dedicated to the art and craft of whisky-making. I asked Andy about some of the Balvenie traditions that have ensured the brand retains such a romantic appeal.

He pointed out that The Balvenie is the only distillery on the Scottish mainland that still grows and malts its own barley (on its 1000-acre farm). It also possesses the only traditional working floor maltings in the Highlands. For the uninitiated, this involves a part of the production process where the barley grains, having been steeped in local spring water, are spread across the malting floor. The barley then warms up as it starts to germinate. Four malt men turn it four times a day until it’s ready for the kiln. In the kiln, the barley is then dried using anthracite and a carefully judged amount of peat, adding further complexity to the final whisky taste.

Malt turning, Photo courtesy of The Balvenie

As Andy described the process, I realized the truth of his words – that while wine is an agricultural product, whisky is, above all, an industrial one. Distilleries have traditionally been highly sustainable, capturing and re-using expended heat and energy, distributing spent barley as cattle feed, and firing their stills with internal steam coils rather than coal to spare the environment and energy costs.

The Coppersmith, photo courtesy of The Balvenie

Three further distinctions of the Balvenie distillery are its on-site coppersmith (who tends the stills), its dedicated team of coopers who maintains the casks (they provide an incredible 70-80% of a whisky’s character!), and its expert Malt Master, David Stewart – apparently a model of modesty and quiet excellence. It is David who pioneers new ways of bringing out distinctive tastes and textures from the production process, with his understanding of the alchemy of spirit, wood and time.

Cooper maintaining the casks, photo courtesy of The Balvenie

A recent brand addition has been Morley’s Shoulder, named after the repetitive strain injury that the malt men could traditionally incur shoveling and turning the barley. This is a blended malt, a mix of three single malts packaged in a way reminiscent of Bourbon and aimed at the younger generation.

Today, Andy retains all of his own youthful power to evangelize about whisky, combined with a deep respect for the mature traditions of The Balvenie. In an age when most distilleries in Scotland are owned by PLCs, he traces the distinctive merits of The Balvenie back to its ownership by fifth generation family descendants of the company’s founder, William Grant.

That chimes with us as a husband and wife partnership who have set up a home-grown business from their Lakeland home. Here at Millican, we're proud to be associated with a whisky brand that values tradition, craft and sustainability but that is also continually seeking to reinvent itself in subtle new ways.

Now that's a good reason to get the bottle out.

Cheers, slainte or, as a true dutchman would say, proost.

Bag Shorts?

Well, it’s all over. The Keswick Mountain Festival Sportive tested me to the limits but I survived.

You may remember that, over the last two months, we’ve worked with Hippy and Gbob on a re-conditioned 1947 Raleigh Clubman touring bike, to ride one of the Festival routes. The magic day came and went on Saturday 22nd May. Here’s my report.

It was a hot sunny weekend, the warmest weather we’ve had for ages, at the Crow Park site where we’d set up the Millican stand on Thursday. On Friday, the visitors streamed in, enjoying the stands and the opportunity to swim in Derwent Water – not unappealing given it was 5 degrees warmer than the same time last year. Hats off to the Festival for finding the Outdoor Swimming Society to inspire us in this regard.

By now, the re-conditioned 1947 Raleigh Clubman bike had arrived, complete with a newly-fitted Brooks, vegetable-tanned, B17N Champions Narrow leather saddle, courtesy of Brooks themselves. The combo looked stunning.

Equally striking was my cycling outfit. On Friday, Vera, Millican’s trusty dame of sewing, arrived with the outfit she’d made for my ride. This consisted of a pair of bike shorts made out of 18oz organic canvas (the same used for the outer fabric of all our bags), plus a cycling shirt made out of the brushed organic cotton lining material we use in most of our bags.

Millican Dalton, outdoor trail-blazer and recycler extraordinaire, would have been proud of me. I wonder what sort of roguish twinkle he might have shown as he contemplated my shorts. The material for them was so heavy, that the shorts literally stood up on their own. Cycling the Lakeland mountains in them looked like a daunting prospect, never mind the fact that my Clubman is only equipped with 6 gears.

When I got to the PR shoot for the Festival, I was dressed in my kit, with my rusty Raleigh bike. Did I look like a geek next to the three burly, muscle-bound, lycra-clad mountain and road bikers also featuring in the shoot? Of course, I did.

Saturday a.m. I decided to make an early start. The forecast was for another hot day (over 26 degrees – which amounts to a tropical heat wave in these parts). I was at the Bike Village beside Derwent Water by 7am. So, armed with some high-energy bars in my new Millican waist pack (Stephen) and water galore, I set off on the 28-mile, two-peak sportive. Scanning my timed chip just before I started was no other than Bruce Duncan, a marshal for the day. Bruce normally does these types of mountain races in his sleep, before breakfast.

Then while Nicky manned the Millican stand, wondering if she’d ever see me again, I was off. Mark (of bag fame) joined me on his mountain bike, one of the few knobbly-tyre competitors on the day.

Whinlatter Pass hits you almost immediately after setting of, just outside of Braithwaite. With many a racer leaving us standing on the uphill climb, the 2nd of the 3 Sturmey Archer gears decided to give in already. With the 2 front cogs, that left me with 4 gears in total. Less ideal with 2 mountain passes still to climb.

To my great surprise, I somehow made it up and over Whinlatter without needing to walk any of it. The downhill stretch into Lorton, followed by the ride through Lorton valley was just stunning. Halfway into the ride, the road turns left past Crummock Water towards Buttermere – an isolated gem surrounded by the Lakeland peaks of Melbreak, Grasmoor and Dodd.

Nature called in Buttermere, which provided me with 10 minutes to catch my breath before attempting to scale Newland’s Pass. The road up Newland’s Pass has several “false peaks”, which caught me out on my first test-ride. You think you’re nearly there, only to discover the mountain has fooled you. At least that couldn’t happen again on this ride.

Halfway up the pass, my legs gave in and I had to walk the rest of the way to the top. Luckily I wasn’t the only one suffering, and I found that walking is nearly as fast as cycling on this part anyway.

Once over Newland’s Pass, the road winds itself through Newland’s valley, connecting with Borrowdale for the final stretch around Derwent Water. So, 3:12:16 after my early morning start, I free-wheeled into the Bike Village, taking everyone by surprise for being back already. Or for making it back at all.

Apart from the early gear failure, the bike held up amazingly well. As did my bag-shorts and backside. And the main lesson of the ride? You only really need 2 gears for rides like this – a first to get uphill and a last one to get down the hill on the other side. Easy …