Tag Archives: Shadthecat

Shad storms the Aston Hill Mountain Bike Mash Up

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I have no idea what a mash-up is but I can tell you that mountain biking is not for the faint-hearted and certainly not for a cat of my delicate disposition.  I got my first clue when the organisers rounded us up for a safety lecture before the event began and I got my second clue when we walked along one of the tracks that the bikers would be descending later and I counted 5 vertical drops along the way.  When John asked me the previous night if I’d like to head up to Buckinghamshire for a mountain biking event in the beautiful woodland of the Chiltern Hills I thought it was an opportunity not to be missed.  At no point during this conversation did he say that great valour would be required.  I think it was the speed with which the riders came down the hill coupled with their proximity to the photographers that set my feline senses on edge.  But I’m a daring black cat with bravado (plus I’ve always got John to rescue me) and I’m plucky enough to rise to any challenge (as long I’ve got John to rescue me)!

Aston Hill Bike Park is a dedicated site for mountain biking located in Wendover Woods on the ridge of the Chiltern Hills, a designated area of outstanding natural beauty.  It features a number of cross-country and downhill runs for beginners through to advanced riders, the more difficult routes being named ‘black run’, ‘root canal’ and ‘ricochet’.  (This was my third clue)!  The tracks are regularly changed to keep things interesting for the riders and the trail designers work closely with the Forestry Commission to ensure that the nature of this beautiful wooded landscape is not compromised by this bizarre human fondness for a burst of adrenaline.

The photographers took their positions as someone blew a loud horn (my fourth clue) and I took a few steps backwards when the sound of tyres bouncing across loose gravel crackled through the forest.  As the noise got louder, riders emerged from the dense canopy of trees down the narrow sloping trails and my nerves were soon forgotten as the riders tore past looking euphoric, some waving madly, others gripping on to their handlebars for dear life.  Then the RAF team cruised past us with apparent ease, twisting their wheels in the air as they flew off the ramps and skidding around bends with their knees scraping the ground in what they call a ‘bar dragger’.  Now I know why one of the trails is called ‘surface to air’.  It was all very high-energy and far more exhilarating than I could have anticipated.  John and I wandered back down the hill to the finish area to talk to the riders as the dust settled and they got their breath back and some of them were as young as 8 years old.  Audacious little tykes looked tired but happy and I was overcome with an urge to nap.  While John carried me back to the car, I planned my marathon napping session for the journey home to the finest detail including position, timing and dream cycles.

Shad reflects on his work

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Being a cat who likes to spend a large proportion of his free time pondering life’s mysteries and reflecting on his role in the ecosystem, I am a firm believer that there is always something more to learn from being alive, providing of course that you choose to live as opposed to simply survive.  Whether it’s learning how to improve your chocolate chip brownies or trying to understand why your cat swipes your legs as you walk past him, life always has more to teach those of us who will listen.  One way to learn is through experience but as Oscar Wilde said …”experience is the hardest kind of teacher, it gives you the test first and the lesson afterwards”…  So John and I often opt for an easier method of learning which involves going to school.  Luckily it’s not the kind of school where the teacher yells at you for not pulling your socks up and you get essays for your homework, it’s the Mark Pain Sports Photography School.

Mark Pain is an internationally recognised award-winning sports photographer and an excellent teacher who is well connected in the world of sports having covered many major events from the Olympic Games to the Ryder cup.  John and I have joined Mark for many of his sessions as a way to improve our photography skills and seek out new opportunities to shoot different subjects in fresh surroundings.  Sports photography is inspiring because competing athletes feel joy, anger or sadness at their performances and the challenge for the photographer is to capture those emotions and convey them to the viewer.  Like the look of pure concentration on the diver who glides gracefully into the water or the beam of satisfaction on the player’s face as the golf club swings through the best shot of the contest.

Low angle shots give us a different view on the world and these are easy for me to capture because I am so close to the ground.  Mark taught me this technique when John and I attended a mountain bike event earlier this year and it was particularly effective because the riders would hurtle down the slopes and fly off the ramps at interesting angles which when shot from ground level looked even more dramatic.  Well the high-flying moves certainly looked exciting to me as I craned my neck to watch the mud-covered bikers soar fearlessly above me and land with a thud and a skid a few feet down the track.  Honestly you have to be quite brave as a feline photographer and I’ve had many a broken claw and fur loss incident as a result of my dedication to camerawork!

As I write this blog John is in Manchester with Mark working hard to get some first-class shots as official photographers for the Taekwondo 2015 World Championships.   It’s a long weekend away so I decided to stay at home and contemplate my existence while my aunties (that’s John’s daughters and extended family) cater for my needs until John returns.  I got distracted flicking through some of the photos John and I took at the rugby match we attended with Mark over the summer, thinking about the clever techniques Mark taught us to capture the burly players way up the other end of the pitch.  I started imagining the focus and the thrill the players must have felt as they grunted and bull-dozed their way towards the goal posts with the ball in their hands.  I lunged, I scored a try, then I woke up and realised that I was having a dream and had accidently put my teddy bear in the water bowl.  Yes that’s right I have a teddy and I’m not ashamed to admit it!  I dragged him out of the water and popped him on the radiator so that he would be dry and fluffy once more, ready for snuggles that night.  After all, I need something soft and warm to sleep on until John comes home and I can use his belly as a pillow.

Mark Pain Sports Photography School.

Shad Photographs a Wedding

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Shakespeare said  “If music be the food of love, play on”, and they did at Jade and Paul’s reception as the DJ played a series of upbeat tunes from the 80s, 90s and 00s.  Although I’m not a great fan of loud music, I enjoy the feeling of sound vibrating through my whiskers. The happy humans gyrating around the dance floor combined with the tickle in my moustache was enough to make me shimmy and shake John Travolta style . And then I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and sheepishly skulked under the buffet table for a comforting lick! I do have a reputation to think about after all.

As I prepared to wash my left ear,  I smiled to myself thinking about the girlies doing their hair and makeup before the ceremony.   I had sauntered into the bridesmaids room in the morning because I’m a curious cat and found myself watching in amusement as they preened,  plucked and pouted in front of an enormous mirror.  They reminded me of myself in the middle of a full-on grooming session, only they had more fur!  Only kidding ladies, you looked lovely and made pretty pictures for the camera with your twinkling eyes and matching accessories.  The colour scheme for the day was based on my favourite shade of purple and everything from the posies to the table decorations was beautifully chosen to coordinate.

When the bride walked down the aisle, everybody thought she looked resplendent in her long flowing dress with shimmering veil. She had a big smile on her face, unlike her husband-to-be Paul who looked terrified!  John and I have shot a number of weddings and I’ve noticed that the girls are always giggling and the boys tend to look nervous!  I have no idea why but maybe John can explain it to me one day (yes he’s been there) as I’m unlikely to find out for myself.  I’ve never met the right lady and I’m far too self-involved,  I mean involved in my work!  As Shakespeare said “to thine own self be true “.  Good luck Jade and Paul.

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Shad does the Solar Heritage

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Imagine gliding silently across a stretch of calm water, watching sea birds dip their heads under the still surface while the autumn sun warms your face and puffy clouds float high across a pale blue sky.  This was my experience as I sat with John on the Solar Heritage this weekend for a wildlife discovery tour made possible by the friendly and environmentally attuned humans of the Chichester Harbour Conservancy.  The Solar Heritage is a pollution-free solar-powered catamaran that takes people out to Chichester Harbour to learn more about the coastal waters and the resident wildlife.  This clever boat is kind to sea-life because it has no exhaust emissions and it can even pick up electromagnetic energy from moonlight to charge its batteries.

Chichester Harbour

Chichester Harbour02

Chichester Harbour, which has received international recognition as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, is full of wide expanses and intricate creeks making it particularly attractive to wildfowl many of which feed on substances found in the mudflats and saltmarshes.  Fear not, an intellectually advanced pussy cat such as myself does not feel the need to chase these birds despite a little rumbling somewhere deep in the depths of my genetic code!  According to the brilliant wildlife expert aboard, there are more than 50,000 birds who either reside in or visit the harbour throughout the year such as swallows, house-martens, oyster catchers, brent geese and lapwings.  We managed to get photos of some wonderful birds including the dark-feathered cormorants and the grey and white coloured sandwich-terns (note the yellow-tipped black bill and the black crest on its head).  The cormorants were particularly keen on showing me their diving skills, cutting sleekly into the water like a missile where they can submerge several feet to catch their dinner of small fish and invertebrates.

For some reason I started feeling peckish and discovered to my horror that John forgot to pack the chicken niblets that I normally have for my mid-morning snack.  Luckily the boat master came to my rescue with a piece of tuna from the skipper’s lunch box.  The skipper appeared slightly bemused and I was just about to give him one of my ‘gets ‘em every time’ looks of innocent melancholy when the nice lady from the Chichester Harbour Conservancy announced that a group of common seals were sunning themselves along one of the stony beaches that border the indented harbour coastline.  Quite honestly I thought at first that they were rocks on the sand until one of them lifted their head lazily to glance in our direction before gently lowering its back to the ground.  Apparently seals don’t believe in wasting energy and I respect that!

It was a real treat to see these wild animals looking relaxed and well fed in their natural environment.  This small colony of around 27 animals is of great scientific importance because it is a breeding colony estimated to have 2 or 3 pups each year.  If you look carefully to the right in the seal pictures, you will see a larger seal behind a smaller one which we believed to be a pup, as well as a russet coloured grey seal slightly to the left of them.  Common seals (known in Canada and the US as harbor seals) come in a variety of colours but can be identified by the shape of their heads and nostrils, and grey seals aren’t even grey!  Who thought that up?!  Anyway, the biggest threat to this small but significant population of seals is human interference, like over-fishing or changes in water chemistry resulting from toxic boat engines or the over- clearance of vegetation.  The Solar Heritage stayed move than 100 metres away from the seals so as not to disturb them but unfortunately there were other curious humans on boats that ventured far too close to the animals.  This stops them from engaging in their natural behaviours and leads to them eventually leaving that particular area, or haul-out as it’s known in the trade, and I’m sure no one wants to see the seals disappear.

As we made our way back to the Harbour Office, I wondered what creatures were hidden beneath the shimmering surface of the gentle waters.  The wildlife expert told me that there were probably lots of crabs, shrimps and worms which all sounds a bit slimy and unpleasant to me but no doubt sounds yummy to the marine life that hopefully flourishes beneath the water.  The harbour is designated as a bass nursery too which I thought was quite charming as I imagined parent bass taking their baby bass to a playgroup for craft activities and learning to play with other baby bass in the sand-pit!

Witterings

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Shad visits a windmill

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When John asked me if I wanted to see my first windmill, I thought windmills grind flour, flour makes bread, bread attracts mice, mice are fun to chase, Shadow likes windmills.  So I agreed wholeheartedly, not just for the opportunity to chase a mouse, but also because this particular windmill is part of a community project which is helping to keep a little bit of history alive.  Estimated to have been built in around 1750, the High Salvington Windmill worked for nearly 150 years before it ceased full-time milling in 1897 possibly due to industrialisation and the invention of steam mills which rendered old-fashioned hand-cranked flour milling uneconomic.  The mill underwent a couple of transformations and a period of neglect before the High Salvington Mill Trust was formed in around 1976 to tend to this unique timber structure which had been ravaged by the death watch beetle and the forces of nature.

The mill stands on a small grassy hillock alongside a quaint outdoor tearoom that serves reasonably priced refreshments and is staffed by a group of friendly local volunteers with an in depth knowledge of the mill and its past.  They were thrilled to see an inquisitive black cat amongst the visitors and the cheeky chappy who took us on the tour told me that I would have made an ideal miller’s cat, probably due to my pluckiness and obvious athleticism!  Employing a cat was a common method of mouse control no doubt essential in a place that stores and grinds wheat grain.  My imagination started to wander as I pictured myself staunchly patrolling the entrance to the mill and stealing cheese from any mouse bold enough to attempt entry.

Suddenly I was whisked into the air as John scooped me up and we joined the group climbing up the stairs to the buck (the main body of the mill).  The buck was built to contain 2 pairs of giant stones for grinding and weighs around 30 tons.  The tour guide gave us a demonstration of how the whole buck can be spun around on its 21ft 6in central post so that the sails face the right way into the wind.  The outside of the buck is even aerodynamically designed with a special shape that enables the best use of the airstream, impressive for 18th century physics.  The tour ended outside the front of the mill with a talk about the enormous sails which are 58 feet in diameter and capture the current of air required to power the complex system of shafts, wheels, hoists and brakes that work the grain into flour.  While John busied himself taking pictures, I headed purposefully towards the benches and explored the back of the tea-hut, checking every inch for mice.  I didn’t find a single one and can only presume that they didn’t dare risk a confrontation with me!  Either that or they were probably hiding behind the fallen log giggling squeakily as I prowled around like a panther, a legend in my own mind!!

Shad goes to Huxley’s Bird of Prey Centre

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Hidden at the back of a garden centre in Horsham is a beautifully kept lawn bordered by fragrant honeysuckle, purple violets and pretty pink rhododendrons.  As you walk around the garden, you can view a collection of wonderful birds, each with a story to tell.  John and I visited Huxley’s a couple of years ago but we decided to return last weekend to see Huxley himself and support the efforts made by the staff and volunteers who care for the residents.  The humans dedicate their time building trust with the birds, training and flying them, cleaning the aviaries, weeding the paths and carrying out lots more not so glamorous work required to keep the centre functioning and ensure the welfare of the birds.

Athene Noctua

 

In an aviary at the top of the garden is a 42 year old eagle owl called Huxley who presides over the staff and the rest of the birds with dignity.  As I ambled towards him, he fixed me with his piercing gaze and sounded that uniquely soulful hoot that said he recognised me straight away.  We exchanged a look of mutual understanding – two animals, wild at heart, living in a world where we relied on kind humans for our care.  I wondered how Huxley had ended up in an aviary and felt grateful that he was prepared to be on display to show people how handsome he is and help educate them about the ways of owls.  The birds at Huxley’s have arrived from various places.  Some were injured in the wild and many of these are taken to another location away from public viewing where they are treated and rehabilitated for release back into their natural habitat.  Some birds cannot be returned to the wild such as the falcons that have been illegally bred as hybrids (unnatural crosses with different species of falcons) and are not allowed to be released as they might contaminate the natural breeding stock.

Huxley - 42yrs old

Huxley – 42yrs old

Igor (another eagle owl) was found tied down in his owner’s garden being buffeted about in a rainstorm.  He was obtained as a 4 month old by someone with no understanding of his needs and kept in a shed before being tethered in a garden for years with a poor diet and no opportunity to exercise.  In poor physical condition and lacking the skills required to survive in the wild, Huxley’s took him in and began his journey back to health and happiness.  The staff said that owl feathers are not waterproof so poor Igor must have been very cold that night he was rescued in the rain and it took 2 or 3 years for Igor to regain his trust of humans.  So I was chuffed to bits when he appeared with one of the keepers sitting calmly on his arm while everyone ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at his soft feathers and fluffy belly.

 

Huxley’s practice the principles of falconry with the captive birds in their care and are careful to ensure that each bird only does what it is comfortable and willing to do.  This gives the birds the chance to engage in some of their natural behaviours and the opportunity for people to watch and learn.  Some of the more confident birds were brought out one by one to give us a great demonstration of their flying and swooping skills.  A lovely barn owl showed me how to catch the lure (an imitation of a prey animal used to entice the bird) and one of the hawks showed me a clever way to make sure no one pinches your food.  It’s called mantling – a special posture that involves using the wings to shield their prey from other birds.  I don’t have wings and there are no predators at home trying to steal my food, nevertheless it pays to be ready for any eventuality!  As John and I said goodbye, a busy worker bee buzzed past me on his way to collect pollen from the geraniums and the kookaburra laughed haughtily as I asked John to pick me up and put me in my basket.  I was one tired pussy cat.

John visits the Eastbourne Air Show

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Regular readers may remember that John and I had a great time in Eastbourne a couple of years ago at the air show.  (You can click on the link just below if you want a reminder).

Airborne 2013

This year’s air show was extra special because it marked the last appearance of the Vulcan in Eastbourne before its retirement.  During 2015, the awesome VulcanXH558 will be completing its Farewell to Flight season before leaving the skies to become the centrepiece of a new education initiative designed to encourage the development of aviation skills in Britain.  John wanted to witness the last airworthy Vulcan bomber showing off at Eastbourne so he hopped on a train while I stayed home to practice my keyboard skills.  My scales are coming along nicely but it’s difficult to remember the notes in the bass clef.  I’m still working on my technique which involves running up and down the keys (leaving my back paws to play the bass while my front paws tackle the treble), or sometimes sitting in front of the keys in a more traditional position (which requires less energy but tends to restrict the range of notes I can play).

 

Anyway, the time flew by (excuse the pun) and John returned home just as I was stretching after my late afternoon nap.  He said that Eastbourne was heaving with thousands of people and the trains were apparently a ‘nightmare’.  Nevertheless, he took some great pictures of the aircraft on display like the super manoeuvrable Chinook chopper and the amazing Red Arrows.  He told me the series of flypasts performed by the Vulcan to mark its final year of flight were breath-taking.  Apparently the turbojet Rolls Royce engines howled as the Vulcan’s nose soared through the air almost vertical during take-off before the beautiful delta style wings levelled off and the plane roared across the sky.  It looked almost flat as it disappeared across the sky line which may have helped it evade capture during its operational missions.

 

Soon dark clouds moved across the sky and rain started to splash against the windows, while John began editing his photos and I enjoyed a high-protein dinner and an extra good licking.  You don’t get a shiny fur coat like this without committing to a thorough cleansing regime!  As I shut my eyes, I dreamt my coat had a camouflage pattern and I was flying through the atmosphere, diving towards the ground with a huge grin on my face and rising up above the clouds which became butterflies fluttering around me.  My paw twitched in excitement as I experienced what it must be like as a bird flying free when I felt John’s gentle hand on my side which made me purr instantly and drift off into the most peaceful after dinner snooze.

Shad spends a few of John’s pennies

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John went up to Felbridge Showground in East Grinstead the other day for a commercial shoot of some brand new Equihunter horse boxes.  Look how shiny!  These luxury horseboxes are nothing short of the best in the field of horseboxes, and I should know having been to Felbridge to test them out.  This involved some strenuous activities such as sitting and laying for prolonged periods in different positions in the splendid lounge/kitchenette area behind the driving cabin, as well as interviewing the horses for their opinions on comfort and safety levels.  I was tempted to go back to Felbridge to see my horsey friend who nudged me with his soft bristly nose on my last visit, but I had other plans.

 

While John was in Felbridge earning his pennies, I went to a music shop to spend them!    I’ve always had a musical ear which I’m sure John will confirm as he has heard me meow many a song while listening to the Saga-louts perform their rockin’ tunes.  So he offered to buy me a special item for my new hobby, a keyboard which I can learn to play and hopefully one day entertain him with in appreciation of the gift.  I came home with a great Roland V-Combo which has more buttons on it than the Kennedy Space Centre!  So watch this space because all I need is a few weeks to practice my arpeggios and then I’ll learn to play a proper song.   It will be so much fun.  I remember playing as a little kitten, leaping across the keys from middle C, hitting a G major scale and finishing with a basic blues.  So I’m hoping that this practice in my early years will help me have another go this time round.  Wish me luck!  I’ll keep you posted.

 

Shad supports the Saga-Louts

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Yes it’s the good old Saga Louts performing their little hearts out once again, this time at Marwell Outdoor Activity Centre near Winchester.  The Centre offers its visitors the chance to pursue lots of vigorous activities such as kayaking, abseiling and paintball against a beautiful backdrop of lush green Hampshire woodland.  The Saga Louts and another band called the Soulcatchers were invited to the Centre in support of local disabled and learning disability young adults, many of whom were in attendance dancing, singing and squealing in excitement.

 

The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers
The Soulcatchers

 

The Saga Louts have a fantastic way of putting people at ease, creating a wonderfully relaxed and candid atmosphere where anyone can feel free to join in.  And they did!  They even let me loose on the microphone for a few seconds in the spotlight and everyone clapped and cheered.  Aren’t they nice?!  I’m sure my caterwauling set a few ear-drums on edge but in my head I mewed and purred like happy jaguar.  On the drums was Amazing Alan, bass guitar played by Bewitching Bryan, Nutty Neil on lead guitar and Crazy Colin roaring out the vocals.  John was official photographer and honorary soundman for the day.   The entertainment was fabulous and I hummed rock ballads all the way home.

Shad spends a few days with his pal

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When John came to pick me up from my holiday he gave me a big bear hug (mmm!) and told me how pleased he was to see me (aww!).  I had gone to spend a couple of weeks with a cat cousin of mine by the name of Holly because she lives in a fabulous country pen and needed a pal to help her through her troubles.  As John drove me home, he told me all about his antics while I was gone, like the boat regatta he attended in Fareham (without me!) and the trip to the seafront with one of his daughters at midnight to take pictures of the ‘blue’ moon.  Then he got this sheepish look on his face and admitted that he had written something for the blog (can you believe!).  Yes folks, ‘the boss’ wrote something in MY blog!  Just kidding!  It wasn’t bad at all John, so thanks for looking after things while I was gone.

https://www.cats.org.uk/holly

I met Holly a couple of months ago when she came into foster care having been rescued from a violent home situation.  As you can see from the pictures, she was in a pickle for sure.  Her tail was fractured, her jaw was damaged and she had a few teeth missing.  As I walked towards this bony creature the first time we met, my delicate nostrils picked up the most unpleasant whiff that gradually became a stench and I could see her fur was filthy, like she’d been dipped in dirty bath.  John told me it smelled like stale tobacco from living in a house full of heavy smokers and she had been kept as an indoor cat.   The objectionable smell however was not the most noteworthy part of our first meeting.  Rather it was her extraordinary personality that struck me.  She dipped her head and came slowly towards me until we touched noses and her tail went straight up in the air, no heckles and no hissing.  Despite the smell, we were soon rubbing each other’s cheeks and sitting next to each other comfortably watching the world go by.

So when John suggested that I spend my holidays with her, I was only too pleased to go visit.  Image how thrilled I was to find her odour free and looking fab, with her white fur transformed from a yellowy-brown to a bright snow.  We immediately connected, chasing each other around playfully while John unpacked my suitcase in the pen next door.  After he left, Holly’s fosterer came to see us with a bowl of treats and hid them all around the pen for us to find.  This was a big step forward for Holly because following her injuries she had previously been unable to close her jaw, resulting in her tongue hanging out all the time and a rather undignified dribbling problem.  Her fosterer used to mash up her food which she then scooped up with her paw, yet here she was outrunning me to the biscuits and chewing like a proper cat.  This explained her new found curves, dry chin and fluffy coat which she took pride in grooming every hour.

The lodgings we stayed in were full-board with everything included (meals, drinks, sleeping quarters and entertainment) and the rural surroundings were delightful.  I spent many a happy moment watching the pigeons pecking berries out of the trees, the fish swimming lazily under the net in the lily-leafed pond and the resident cats strolling importantly past.  I had a lovely holiday with my good friend Holly and it was a privilege to watch her become the wonderful trusting cat she always wanted to be.  She truly is one of the strongest kids I’ve ever met and her high-spirited character was the magic that drew the attention of a kind-hearted family looking for a cat to adopt.  When they came to visit, it was clearly a match made in heaven, with Holly smooching around the legs of all 3 humans, jumping on their laps and meowing demurely while they cooed all over her.  Her kinked tail and goofy smile will always be a reminder of her past life but now she has an exciting future to look forward to.  Congratulations Holly on finding a loving forever home where you will always be cherished.