Tim Jasper on Rohantime

“You can’t think outside the box if you’re sat inside one.
In my experience, great product ideas rarely come along when you’re sat inside the office. The best concepts almost always come from first-hand experience, from getting out there in all conditions and constantly thinking about how things can be improved. There’s only one way to perfect a new hood design – and that’s to go for a walk in the driving rain or sleet. Which is why I’m out there as often as possible – hoping for extreme precipitation!
I also spend a lot of time talking to customers. I’ve lost count of the number of new products that were inspired by informal chats with Rohan enthusiasts.
And that’s one of the reasons why I’m so excited about Rohantime, the new Rohan community website. I’m on it all the time! It’s just fantastic to be able to have an ongoing dialogue with so many customers, about so many subjects, so frequently”.
Tim Jasper – Brand Director , Rohan

If you’d like to comment on anything Rohan, you’ll find Tim, along with a very friendly and chatty on Rohantime.
Obviously our customers are the most important thing. We’re an independent company, so we’re not answerable to high street buyers or a larger parent company. The only thing we’re interested in is what Rohan enthusiasts think. And Rohantime simply gives us the opportunity to talk more often. It’s a chance for our customers to tell us, directly, exactly what they’re thinking – about our clothing, about the company, about where we’ve come from and about where we’re going. And, as far as I’m concerned, that can only be a good thing.

Microadventures

From time to time we get some great stories from members of the Rohan community. This one caught our eye and raised a smile. We hope you enjoy ‘Walking a lap of the M25 & Packrafting Across Scotland’  by Alastair Humphreys

” I have had two “microadventures” in the UK over January. During the “worst weather” for a generation two of us set off to walk a lap of the M25, the 120-mile motorway that encircles London. Sticking within the “audio corridor” of the road, walking through fields and small towns, hopping fences and camping in woods I was interested to find out whether it is possible to find adventure in 21st Century suburbia. The film material from this project is with a film production company at the moment. Check out the photo’s

After the M25 I travelled to remote northern Scotland for a training trip with a friend. The plan was simple: to travel from the west coast to the east coast, walking from the sea up to the watershed and then unpacking the1-man packraft boats we carried in our packs. We would then paddle down the River Spey to the coast. Recent freak temperatures of -22C made the paddling section quite interesting! Check out the short video from the trip”

Photo’s of the Packrafting trip

Alastair Humphreys

A Perfect Week!

A Perfect Week!
Following on from Tim’s “A Perfect Day” feature after our winter ascent of Aonach Beag in December I think it only fair that I respond with “A Perfect Week”. Yes, I’m the unnamed wearer of a Pinnacle Jacket in some of Tim’s images and it truly was a memorable weekend in Scotland.
Anyway, where did we get to in “A Perfect Week” – Nepal of course, where else?
Tim and I proved that you don’t need a month to enjoy a trip to Nepal and met up in Delhi Airport in January to prove the point with just a week available to us both:

Day 1: We arrived in Kathmandu in time for an evening wander around Thamel with it’s colourful and vibrant shops before dinner. As soon as we’d taken off from Delhi we’d seen the Himalayas and the views improved as we got progressively closer to Kathmandu.

Day 2: Buddha Air delivered us safe and sound to Pokhara where a half hour transfer saw us at the road head for a five night trek up to the impressive mountain viewpoint of Tara Top. An afternoon walk across a suspension bridge to the Akala Mandir hindu shrine saw us continuing towards Machhapuchhre (6,993m) and our campsite at a friendly farm.

Day 3: Our morning walk to the village of Bhurjung was to enable our trekking permits to be checked by ACAP (Annapurna Conservation Area Project) staff before we were allowed to head up into the Annapurna foothills with our small support crew. We paused briefly for lunch in Kharjung before continuing up to Ghalekarka and the ridge top campsite (1,850m). ACAP approve a local ladies village co-operative to run a shop in their campsites so we were duty bound to make a token purchase to support the local economy. We enjoyed the beers with our dinner that night!

Day 4: Today involved a fairly challenging 1,000m climb up to the Tara Top (2,808m) mountain viewpoint. The trail was up through the rhododendron forest which provided shade from the warm sun. The Annapurna panorama was superb from our campsite and we enjoyed a leisurely afternoon soaking up the views. Once again, in order to support the local economy, we treated ourselves to beer with dinner.

Day 5: Leaving Tara Top behind, we descended through the forest before contouring for a couple of hours before the final walk down to our next campsite at Parche (2,200m). From here, after lunch, we walked over to the Gurung village of Sikles where 400 houses provide homes to approximately 2,500 residents, mostly farming families. Sikles is in a spectacular location below Lamjung Himal (6,932m), and a walk around the town provides an insight into the traditional life styles of these Gurung families.

Day 6: Well, what goes up in Nepali landscape terms, must come down and approximately 5,000 stone steps of descent proved this point during the morning. We reached the Modi Khola, some 1,000m below our campsite in need of lunch and a rest on the riverbanks. Continuing downstream after lunch, a section of the trail had washed away during the last monsoon. Fortunately though ACAP had installed simple bamboo walkways for people to use and we crept cautiously over these to the safety of the river bank beyond.

We should have reached our campsite soon after, in the school grounds at Lamahket, but there was no sign of our support crew who’d simply carried on up the track. We caught them up after another hour and camped in a farmyard at the invitation of the family. It was quite a cultural experience that evening and we saw traditional skills of mattress weaving and butter churning by the mother of the family. I’m told a dog barked outside our tent for four hours that night but I didn’t hear it. Having camped in noisy farmyards before, I took a sleeping tablet that night and enjoyed a sound sleep throughout the night.

Day 7: We walked for a couple of hours to the nearest village with buses and were soon back in Pohkara at our hotel. I’d been told our trek wasn’t particularly challenging and there were a couple of short days. These however, provided for a relaxing afternoon up at Tara Top and the afternoon spent exploring Sikles was memorable.

Day 8: A scary take-off with the aircraft lurching from side to side lasted only seconds and we were then on our way to Kathmandu for the night before catching our international flights home the next day.

Conclusion: I’m often asked by people to give advice on overseas trekking destinations and would happily recommend this trek to anyone who was short of time and could only spare a week to visit Nepal. The Gurung people in the settlements we passed through were exceptionally friendly and welcoming. Our support crew were a pleasure to work with and the food was some of the best I’ve ever experienced in fifteen years experience in Nepal.
Not many UK companies offer the Tara Top Trek but Skyline Events Limited offer it several times a year as a charity trek. One could therefore enjoy a trek in the Himalayas whilst raising funds for a favourite charity. Visit skylineevents.co.uk for further details.
We’ve had “A perfect Day” and “A Perfect Week” so watch out for “A Perfect Fortnight” which is due in July when I lead a small group to Ladakh in northern India to climb Stok Kangri (6,121m). This trip involves trekking through the impressive Ladakh landscape with a final day walking up easy angled snow slopes to the summit of Stok Kangri.
Visit www.themountaincompany.co.uk for further details.
Mini-slide shows of both the Tara Top Trek and Stok Kangri trip can be seen in the photography section of my website, or contact me for any information you might require.

Alan Ward

Without English Air

Leo Dickinson is one of the outstanding action sports filmmakers in the field today. He has made over 50 films of his own and helped on many others. Leo entertained us at Rohantime 09 Dunster last summer. Today, on Rohantime, he shares some memories with us of his time on Everest including Reinhold Messner & Peter Habeler Everest without oxygen – doing it without ‘English Air’, you may have read the earlier post on Rohantime about the Rohan Windlord Garments used on this successful attempt. Leo has provided us with the clip of his video footage.We hope you enjoy the post and the video.

Everest Memories 2 – Leo Dickinson

Werner Kopaka was an Austrian Journalist attached to our expedition planning on not only getting the first Austrian up Everest but also to fulfil the dreams of Reinhold Messner & Peter Habeler in doing it without ‘English Air’ as the Sherpa’s often called it.

Everest of course was an English Mountain – we had named it after George Everest the Surveyor General of India in the 1800’s, and we can only be grateful they chose his surname. The British contingent comprised of Eric Jones, myself and Times Journalist Ronnie Faux and a good time was had by all.

The radio crackled to life, and we heard the excellent news that Robert Schauer had made the Summit along with his leader Wolfgang Nairz, his cameraman Horst Bergman and Sherpa Ang Phu. Now all they had to do was get down.

That evening I suggested to Werner that he might like to accompany me up the icefall the next morning to meet them. “What a good idea”, he said. Now Werner was not exactly a mountaineer but nevertheless, the route was well established and so far safe.

After a hearty breakfast of fried salami (have you ever eaten frozen salami) Werner & myself set off upwards to Eric Shipton’s Valley of Silence – the Western Cwm.

As first Werner went ahead following the ropes over yawning crevasses and seemed comfortable in his unpracticed environment. After half an hour he slowed – this was the highest he had been in his life and the altitude was taking its toll. Now he lagged behind me as I recounted stories of daring-do to keep up his spirits.

Then something happened that is hard to forget. You know when you are on the phone and the line is cut off – for several seconds you keep talking before realising that no one is listening. Werner wasn’t listening – Werner wasn’t there. Like in every good script in Hollywood the hero looks around gormlessly shouting the name of their lost comrade. I didn’t shout but retraced my steps and looked downwards. I’d long ago forsaken belief  in miracles and no angels were waiting for Werner. He was down the biggest crevasse I had ever seen – or rather it opened up into the biggest crevasse because Werner was jammed in a bottleneck over this void that could have re-located St Paul’s Cathedral.

“Wait there” I yelled helpfully.

I remembered the last crevasse ladder had a rope about 20m long. Knots were untied and I ran back tying a loop as I ran.

A second loop formed my waistline, and I dropped down the line to this shivering Austrian.

At first I managed to lasso his head and thought that at least I would retrieve part of him.

That’s the problem with memories – did I think that at the time or was it afterwards?

Werner struggled into my loop and relaxed. He slipped into the vice further, and I had another thought. “We’re both going to die”.  For one brief billionth of a second I thought about untying it. No Swiss Army knife here…. Then to my eternal delight I spotted the solution – another crevasse into which I happily jumped. Now we had a classic Hoffnung Barrel situation. If Werner came up I went down and visa versa.

Now all we had to do was wait for a Sherpa to come down the icefall. One hour turned into two, and I was getting cold. Up until now I had amused myself by pulling my 16mm camera out of my rucksack and pointing it around Werner’s corner. It didn’t record sound, so I have no idea what he said…. But we were getting colder.

Solution two involved us both climbing up our respective ropes and emerging onto the flat ice together. It worked… I continued up Werner went down muttering that never again would he go up a glacier…

Meanwhile my heroes Reinhold and Peter (dressed in his Rohan jacket!) set off into the history books. Carrying a small Canon Super 8mm camera Reinhold recorded their arrival onto the summit.

My film – Everest Un-Masked will shortly be available on DVD from our website where you can see all the trials, self doubts of this famous pair as they question their sanity about going where no man has been before…Everest without oxygen. Of course like all good scripts they succeeded and more importantly are both good friends of mine.

I joking told Reinhold that I had made him famous to which – by now having a wicked sense of English humour – replied, “Its possible I may have done that by myself but thank your help”

Twenty two years later I was lecturing in Saltzburg – Peter was my translator, although when I found out that the Austrian audience all understood my English, I sacked him. We had a few beers and reminisced.

The next day a young man came up to me and shook my hand. “Thank you”, he said.

I wasn’t quite sure what he meant – was it the lecture I had given?

“No – my name is Ian Kopaka – without you pulling my dad out of that crevasse on Everest, I would not be here.”

I told him I hoped I wasn’t responsible…. He laughed.

Leo Dickinson

A Perfect Day

It’s strange how things that you know are just perfect sometimes don’t feel that way when you first go back to them.
This was very much how I felt wearing my cumbersome, winter boots again, stumbling up the icy trail from the top of Glen Nevis by torchlight. Ungainly and clumsy, I slipped on the frozen streams that criss-cross the path up to Steall Bridge, the torch just picking out the boulders and grasses at the top of the waterfall.

The next day as we reached the snowline the perfection clicked back into place. Fully stiffened boots were once again the very best solution to boshing over frozen tussocks and heather clumps, and onto the icy neve on the mountainside.
Then, when later we strapped on our crampons for the final slope onto Aonach Beag, all was exactly as it should be – and as I’d known all along it would be, deep down.

It was the same with this whole trip – a stolen weekend, away from the normal routines of the office and home.
When the idea to get away came up we were fully up for it. Weekend passes gained from our loved ones, transport and logistics sorted, rucksacks packed. But it still seemed a bit wrong as we set off.
Writing this in a refrigerated tent after the most perfect mountain day, staring out the door at a million stars, it is now just – as it always was really – so right.

We set off at a reasonable hour from our camp. It could have been earlier but the Jura malt had gone down a little too well the previous night. Working our way onto the first shoulder of the hill we emerged into the crystal sunlight of a stunningly clear day.
As we (slowly) ascended – those boots again, not to mention out-of-condition legs – the Mamores ridge rose into full view, the tops backlit by the sun, the valleys infilled with curling fog banks.
Breaking onto higher ground, someone had alchemically transformed the snow into beaten gold.
Onto the ridge – and the summit of Ben Nevis heaved up, startlingly near and riven by gullies. The east side of Aonach Beag heavily corniced, like a surrealist’s version of an iced Xmas cake.
Stopping at the foot of the main slope we clicked on the crampons, unshipped an axe each and crunched up the immaculate neve to an intense, azure blue sky.

From the summit every detail of the Carn Mor Dearg arête and the north face of the Ben framed the landscape to the west. To the east the Grey Corries were laid out below us for detailed inspection. In all other directions, glen after glen, summit after snow-tipped summit. Not a wisp of wind as we caught our breath.        
Although Aonach Mor beckoned further on, age and experience regretfully told us to start making our way back off the hill if the plan was still to be back at camp before dark.
A rapid traverse down to the bealach at 830m, followed by a painstaking, delicate descent as we picked our way down steep snow, through rock fields to the head of the valley.
Away with axes and crampons and out with poles, and after a welcome snack on a sunlit boulder we flogged down to the stream.
Bottoming out into a broad valley floor we bypassed wide meanders of the frozen stream to reach another brow.
A steep and by now painful descent into the cold shadows, passing a secret waterfall that could have it’s own coach park anywhere south of the border.
The finally as the light faded down, back to the tent and a still half full bottle of scotch.
Much later, after hot chocolate and shortbread a million stars put in their reappearance.
Even the freeze dried mealpacks tasted wholesome and nourishing.
Perhaps we actually had been transported to an alternate reality.

Tomorrow will be an early rise and pack up in the dark, and then back to the car for the drive south to Glasgow and home.
Days like these are there for the taking.
It may sometimes seem the right thing to stay with the routine and take a pass on the opportunities.
But always take the other chance – perfection is there all along, just waiting for you to arrive.

Tim Jasper, December 2009

Everest Memories

Leo Dickinson is one of the outstanding action sports filmmakers in the field today. He has made over 50 films of his own and helped on many others. Leo entertained us at Rohantime 09 Dunster earlier in the year. Today, on Rohantime, he shares some memories with us of the first canoe decent of Dudh Kosi – Relentless River of Everest. Watch out for other posts on Rohantime by Leo. The most recent Skydiving in the Shadow of Everest and yes he did have Rohan clothing with him. In Leo’s words “Skydive next to the highest piece of real estate on the planet”.

Everest Memories

Memories are strange things – they lie – they exaggerate – they bring tears and joy depending upon what emotions are recalled. Above all they are selective. It’s almost as if we have an inbuilt firewall protecting us against the realities of what we went through.

Dudh Kosi – Relentless River of Everest was the first canoe descent of The River of Milk that flows down from the highest place on earth. Dr Mike Jones and Mick Hopkinson arrived in a red Cortina with a canoe on the roof rack. Just as Mike started to explain how experienced his team was, I noticed that the front 18 inches of the canoe was missing. The memory stayed with me.

On the first day’s canoeing Dave Manby hit a rapid, got stuck, rolled over and fell out. As he and his boat parted company my cameras showed that the front 18 inches was missing !

Over the next three weeks Mike’s team showed exactly how experienced they were but also how vulnerable when things went wrong and wrong they did go. By now the river was quite big, very cold and fast flowing. There was this bend that took the water away from my steep cliff where I had set up my movie cameras.

As was our want the canoeists would brief me on the line they would take. Like English weather forecasts it was not an exact science but it gave me an idea. Suddenly there was a shout Mick Hopkinson “Hoppy” was in the water out of his canoe.

My memory tells me that two things happened. Dr Mike launched his canoe from the bank and I ran up the steep buff to where my cameras were waiting to run.

Distinctly out of breath I reached for the on switch and aimed my cameras. I had attached two side by side, one with a wide angle the other a zoom. It had been a piece of prescient foresight.

I assumed – wrongly – that Hoppy would be rescued quickly. Dr Mike was trying to steer his boat so as to give Hoppy something to grab but the rocks on the river bottom caused the waves to dissipate in a haphazard manner.  There was nothing to grab and I remember starting to feel distinctly uneasy. It was starting to dawn on me that Hoppy was drowning and there was nothing anyone could do…

My film showed Hoppy and Mike being swept around the far corner and mercifully out of sight.

Now a new dilemma flashed and stayed in my consciousness till the present day – I had just filmed someone dying.

If Hoppy had drowned then my film would join him…. I wasn’t in the business of making snuff films. For an hour I ran down the bank looking and hoping. Suddenly to my eternal delight I spotted Hoppy & Mike both drinking tea. It was a happy memory.

If you want to see Leo’s re-digitised, re-edited and re-mastered version of Dudh Kosi then a DVD is available from his website . The original HTV film of the 1976 British expedition to kayak down the Dudh Kosi River that flows from Everest was filmed by Leo and HTV. It was originally shown in Britain at prime time on Boxing Day 1976. The film went on to win over 50 international awards and was sold for broadcast in more than 25 countries.

Journey to Afghanistan

John Pilkington, long time friend of Rohan,  has been described as “one of Britain’s greatest tellers of travellers’ tales”. He made his name in the 1980s as a travel writer and photographer, and more recently has become known for his adventure travel documentaries on BBC Radio 4.

At the moment he’s trying to complete a vital part of his 1987 Silk Road journey that he was previously forced to skip. He started in Beirut and hiked in Lebanon before continuing through Syria, Iraq, Georgia and Armenia to Iran.

In 2006 the Royal Geographical Society presented him with the Ness Award for his work in popularising geography and the wider understanding of the world.

It wasn’t an auspicious start. Rain hammered on the roof of the arrivals hall at Beirut International Airport as I waited for a lift into the city. Outside there were puddles a foot deep. I’d come to Lebanon in mid-April, earlier than planned, to hike some of the spectacular Lebanon Mountain Trail, a 270-mile path along the country’s high-altitude backbone. Up there, this unseasonable rain would be falling as snow.

The rain continued next day as I climbed towards the LMT’s office in Beirut’s eastern suburbs to pick up some route maps. “Don’t worry,” said the administrator Walaa Mallak, “It’ll be fine from tomorrow. It never, ever rains after Easter.” We both drew a veil over the fact that Easter had already come and gone.

Lebanon is one of the least known and perhaps most misunderstood countries in the Middle East. Half the size of Wales, it has an astonishing four million people including nearly half a million Palestinian refugees. Ninety percent of the population live along the coast, almost half of them in Beirut itself, which has meant some frantic rebuilding of the many blocks of flats that were destroyed in the civil war and more recent conflicts.

Wandering the downtown streets, I passed ruins and rubble on a scale I haven’t seen in my life before. In the old French quarter there were also lots of abandoned buildings still more or less intact, the shutters of their 1920s façades creaking on their hinges in the breeze. Judging by the jungles of weeds, some of them had been empty for 20 or 30 years. Beirut must be the only city in the world where under ‘Dangers and Annoyances’ the Lonely Planet guidebook just says ‘masonry falling from buildings’.

But I was surprised to find amongst the devastation a modern and very European country. French and English are understood everywhere, and French rather than Arabic is often spoken at home. Many of the traffic jams were made up of smart 4×4s – and indeed often caused by them, as their sunglass-toting drivers double-, treble- and quadruple-parked to get as close as humanly possible to wherever they wanted to go.

As Walaa Mallak had promised, the rain eased and I headed north to Tripoli, which the Arabs call Trablous. An old silk-weaving city, it would have been well-known to Marco Polo when he arrived further down the coast at Acre in 1271. In those times Tripoli was a Crusader stronghold, but its busy port was never popular with Silk Road traders because of the 8,000-foot mountain barrier behind it which, as I could see from the bus window, was now covered with a worrying blanket of snow.

Two days later I was looking at the snow from closer quarters in the mountain village of Bcharré, famously the home of Khalil Gibran until his death in 1931. I was shocked by how cold it was – I hadn’t prepared for this! Putting on two of everything, I climbed to the snowline and started ploughing through the mushy drifts. It was hard going in the fierce sunlight, but after a while a grove of cedars gave some welcome shade and I sat down to think things over.

In the distance was a ski resort, the skiers looking like little black ants among the paraphernalia of the pistes and ski tows.

The Cedar of Lebanon whose trunk I was leaning against was almost certainly more than 1,000 years old. Its bark reminded me of elephant hide. Originally these slopes would have been covered with cedar forests, but the quality of the timber was so coveted in Roman times that great logs and planks began to be carted off to the port of Byblos and from there to Constantinople and Rome. Lebanon’s remaining cedars are now protected, but it will be a good few centuries before the trees planted today are a match for these grand old characters.

I decided to follow the trees’ example and take things slowly. Instead of sticking doggedly to my route now buried in show, I took a shortcut round the rim of the valley and descended into the Horsh Ehden nature reserve, where there were more cedars but, at only 5,000 feet above sea level, no snow. Grey clouds scudded overhead, but nothing fell from them and I set up camp in good spirits on a grassy promontory. This was what I’d come here for – and what a privilege to be alone on a ridgetop with the twinkling lights of Tripoli far below! It was to be the first of several great camping spots and I slept soundly on the springy turf.

A day’s walk to the south was the Qadisha Gorge, home to several ancient but still functioning Christian monasteries. I headed for the gorge through countryside dotted with empty concrete houses, some apparently abandoned whilst still being built, and passed through villages that were eerily deserted. I was told later that many of the houses were summer homes belonging to people in the coastal strip, but to me they looked derelict. The few occupied ones were easy to make out – they were made not of concrete but of wattle and daub, and their peasant inhabitants were busy ploughing, sowing, watering and weeding the plots around them exactly as their parents and grandparents would have done.

I followed a water channel through blossoming apple orchards to the lip of the gaping limestone chasm which is the Qadisha Gorge – a World Heritage Site on a staggering scale. Although I’d seen it from a distance it took me by surprise. One moment I was tripping through farmland; the next I was staring into space. The faint sound of the river floated up from the dense woodland at the base of the gorge, and I could just make out the first of the monasteries, St Eliseus, built into the side of the cliff 500 feet below.

A goat-herders’ path zigzagged down between rock pinnacles. After an hour of tentative boulder-hopping, the slope eased into a grassy wildflower meadow until finally I reached the gorgeous woods along the river. I could well see the appeal of this place to monks and hermits. There are only half-a-dozen ways of getting down to the valley bottom – all of them treacherous – and within the overhanging cliffs are dozens of caves and niches which make perfect places for retreat and meditation. The gorge was an early home to the Maronites, a Catholic sect who, with the Greek and Armenian Orthodox Churches, now count among their followers 40 percent of the entire Lebanese population. The twice-daily Maronite services are taken very seriously. When the church bells toll, people flock in numbers that would make an British vicar weep with envy.

After two weeks among the northern peaks it was time to go south to Lebanon’s other famous mountain range, the Chouf. More rolling and less densely populated than the north, the Chouf’s ridges and valleys are home to wolves and eagles, more Cedars of Lebanon, and, unfortunately, most of the country’s remaining landmines. Luckily the Lebanon Mountain Trail has been routed through areas repeatedly certified as cleared, so I was rather shocked on leaving the first village of Jezzine to see a minefield warning sign. It was reassuringly old and rusty, and I also took comfort from noticing that several goat-herders were leading their animals across the mountainside beyond. In fact the only real dangers in this region today are near the border with Israel to the south. If I’d gone in that direction the Lebanese army or Hezbollah would have firmly stopped me well short of any possible calamity. Still, it was an unnerving moment, not helped by meeting Shafik Mershad in the village of Niha Es-Shouf, who lost both his hands 20 years ago when he stepped on a mine near Jezzine. A week later I was to find another warning sign virtually alongside a so-called municipal campsite.

One place where I did feel safe was the magnificent Chouf Cedar Reserve, home to a quarter of Lebanon’s remaining cedars. Vast and in some parts forbidding, it’s an area where you feel if you were to get lost you might never be found. Here the altitude was slightly lower, and for the first time I could roam the hillsides without clambering over snowdrifts. Spring flowers were bursting out everywhere and the mountain air was warm at last. It looked as if winter was finally over.

In the second week of May I came down at last from the mountains and set off for Syria. I was looking forward to seing a new country, but first I had to make one more diversion. The small town of Baalbek in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley is home to the remains of Heliopolis, ‘the City of the Sun’ – probably the greatest Roman ruins in the entire Middle East.

While still half a mile away I got my first sight of the six famous giant columns, looking for all the world like a Hollywood film set. They were just huge. Seventy feet tall and with the largest stones weighing more than 1,000 tonnes, they were once part of a set of no fewer than 54 columns surrounding the Temple of Jupiter, almost certainly the biggest building in the Roman world. And there was more. To the south the great Temple of Bacchus stood almost intact; to the east was the five-acre Great Court, once flanked by pools and with a gigantic sacrificial altar at its centre. Beyond, lesser rows of columns disappeared into the distance. All were constructed of a rich red sandstone, quarried nearby, which made them glow wonderfully in the setting sun. I realised that contrary to what I’d learnt at school, the heart of the Roman Empire, at least in its later years, was not in Rome but here in the Middle East.

John Pilkington

Compare the Meerkats?

Meerkat friends at Jack’s Camp

We receive some great photos and stories from Rohan customers. Many share their Rohan stories and memories on Rohantime Facebook. From time to time, we thought it would be great to publish a selection on Rohantime so here goes we hope you enjoy them.

This is from Jan Astle. What a wonderful photo. Thank you Jan…

“I first bought Rohan clothing in 1990, and have bought something every year since. I also introduced it to my son, Charlie Foord. He always listens to his mother! In fact, I’m wearing a favourite Rohan shirt on my Facebook page. I also have another in a darker brown. They’re very good for sleeping in on planes, and never wrinkle. So please count me as a huge fan.
I travel to Africa every year for my holidays, and have a fair wardrobe of Rohan clothes. I first admired the Bags and shirt on a journalist in Kenya in the late eighties, and have been wearing Rohan ever since. That particular shirt, and its brown twin comes with me every time. I always wear it on the plane as it NEVER creases, and can be slept in and still be worn with confidence on arrival. I wish that you still produced them. I’m off to Botswana again on 23rd October, and will as usual be re-acquainted with my meerkat friends at Jack’s Camp”

A big thank you to everyone!

A big thank you to everyone who contributed to our request for a strap line for Rohantime.  Below is a selection of your replies.  Scroll through them, some will raise a smile. Comments on any, preferably not your own, would be appreciated.

Steve Sordy says:
Rohan: Function with style
You can read it two ways, with Function as a noun or a verb

Nic says:
Rohantime – wearing well

Bob Burns says:
Rohantime the time of your life

Paul Robertson says:
When you need to be ready- you just don’t know what for yet.

Mike W says:
Rohantime – Anytime Any Wear Clothing.

Tony says:
Rohan – How clothes should be made.

Jerryh says:
Rohantime – the community that loves your clothes as much as you do

Ian W G says:
Rohantime – like the clothes, it’s about the outside, designed from the inside

Nic says:
Rohantime – Worldy wear

Sarah says:
Make time for you with Rohantime
Playtime with Rohan
Time for you with Rohantime
Need time away? You need Rohantime
For all your adventures look to Rohantime
Taking the time you need at Rohan
You on the best day with Rohantime
Take your time with Rohantime
Making time with Rohantime

Sarah says:
Rohan – for clothes that won’t wear out before you do
Active life, active clothes
Need to go that extra mile – try Rohan on for size
Travel right, travel Rohan
Shop smart, travel light, buy Rohan

david pilkington says:
Feel good in Rohan

John Emslie says:
This is addictive!
Let’s go all the way – Rohan
Never stand still – Rohan
Rohan – Out there
Travel light, travel right – Rohan (Apologies if that’s an existing Rohan phrase)
Get an all over fan – Rohan
World wide weave – Rohan
World Wide Wear – Rohan
Light of my life – Rohan
No weighting – Rohan
Access baggage – Rohan

John Emslie says:
Rohan – With you all the way
The journey is more important than the destination – Rohan
One way? All the way – Rohan
Rohan – Fresh air
Wear it out – Rohan
Adventure capitalist – Rohan
Go your own way – Rohan

John Emslie says:
Rohan’ed in hand across the world
Take an experienced traveller – Rohan
Rohan – The most reliable travel companion
Rohan – Passport to the world
Go away!- Rohan
Rohan – Goes all the way
Going that extra mile? – Rohan
All over – Rohan

julie brix says:
Rohan, fit for purpose and fits me

Bob Burns says:
Make your spare time, Rohantime.

Brian Mac says:
Rohan for everytime.

Bob Burns says:
Make your spare time rohantime

max quarterman says:
comfortable perfection

jan w says:
Wear Rohan be ready for anything

C J Payne says:
Time for adventure? It must be Rohantime!

C J Payne says:
Rohantime the lifetime adventure and the lifetime clothing

David Steadman says:
Comfortable practability

Phil Clothier says:
Wear Rohan, live life.

Steve Ruane says:
Looks as good coming back as you do going out

Ken says:
Rohan – the best for the best

Neil Cairns says:
Rohan – A statement of Who I am, What I do, Where I go.

Ray Portman says:
What offers quality,protection and comfort? It must be a Rohan!

Dai says:
Clothing for Life!

David Ansbro says:
Rohan= comfort, quality,value for money and peace of mind

graham says:
It performs, you take the credit
Rohan… excel quietly

Kathryn C says:
Time to be.
Don’t think – just Do.
Why Rohantime? Because life is too short to put up with second best.

David Mortlock says:
Working or playing, anytime is Rohantime!
Unpretentious functionality.

Bill Caldwell says:
Rohan – get into top gear, and go.

David McEvoy says:
It’s all you need – for travel, for adventure, for life

Mike Shearing says:
Remain hot (anagram)

julie d says:
Get out there

Ian SH says:
Get your gear for the next decade today

paul G says:
Rohan : all it needs is your go-can

paul renn says:
It will do if you dare to

Bob Elis says:
Its Rohantime again Go further, go lighter, see more have BAGS more fun

John Oliver says:
With Rohan – You Really Can!

Julian says:
Rohan – Won’t cost the earth
Real clothes for real people
The right clothes for the wrong weather
For who you wish to be
The right stuff
Ethical, compact, durable, comfortable, and beautiful
Ideal for practical Hobbits
Proper stuff for any weather
Outlasts the rest

Chris says:
Rohan – a legend in the making
or… (in tribute to the iconic Bags)
Rohan – Lord of the D-Rings!

Sue says:
How about: Any time is Rohantime, anywhere is Rohanwear?

Pete says:
Clothing that works like it says it will.

Andy says:
Look good, feel good – Rohan for adventure and travel

David says:
Rohan…let the adventure begin

Nic says:
How about
Rohantime : On The Line
or something along those lines ( drying fast / fast on line / etc etc )

ian says:
Rohan over Beethoven – dig them mountains and hills

odd job says:
Rohantime – let’s your fingers do the talking

Poacher R.Anglian says:
To boldly go where Rohan has gone before

Poacher R.Anglian says:
Reliable, Operational, Hardwearing, Adaptable, No nonsense.
Timeless, Ingenious, Motivational, Escape wear

OutdoorJon says:
Rohantime  – entertainment and engagement which creates participation

OutdoorJon says:
Rohantime – Talk Rohan

Nige Whitaker says:
Rohantime – Make every second memorable

Colin says:
Sorry, me again, clearly a bit of time on my hands!

As Rohan uses the term Forum – a place of public discussion and debate
especially in Rome – then one could easily move from being a Roman citizen to a
Rohan citizen. We could then all become part of the Holy Rohan Empire! God,
this is terrible. Sorry I mentioned it!

“Address the Forum as a Rohan citizen!” “Friends, Rohans, Citizens, send me
your gear!” This gets worse. Strapline could be “We’re only here for the gear!”
Gottle of geer – oh never mind.

Yours in sorrow,

Colin Champion says:
The Rohan Empire – we’re only here for the gear!

Chris B says:
Rohantime – and open up the world

Keith Brown says:
Rohantime – your any-time, any-place anywear forum

Nige Whitaker says:
Might be a bit long, but…
You might never go where I have been,
You might never see what I have seen.
What I have done, you might never do,
So come with me, and let me show you

Kim Parkinson says:
Rohantime… Specificity, Delight, Contentment

Tasha says:
Rohantime, for those you enjoy living to the max and share the moment!

Barpar says:
Been there, done that, got the T-shirt!

Derek Findlay says:
Rohantime…yesterday, today, and tomorrow

Alan Ward says:
Rohantime – reflect, and then travel…
Rohantime – we’ll help you to achieve your dreams…
Rohantime – share your dreams to inspire others…

Martin says:
Rohantime – the virtual community for outdoor enthusiasts

Barpar says:
Rohantime, past, present and future. Rohantime, onwards and upwards

Stuart Basilhead says:
Travel technicians
We worry about your clothing so you don’t have to
Clothes for people who travel
Technical clothes
Off the peg

Ernie Woodhall says:
Rohantime It’s your time, spend it wisely

Strider says:
Rohantime: See the World, Your Way

JohnR says:
My favourite strapline of all time belongs to a well know confectionary company
and could equally apply to Rohantime is Work, Rest and Play

Tim Jasper says:
The Rohan community website for all walks of life
The Rohan community site for all lovers of the outdoors

Cirque says:
Does it actually need a strapline? Isn’t this just another load of media
marketing hype it’s self evident what Rohantime is all about, anyway for what
its worth Rohantime enjoy the moment

Barpar says:
A place to leave your footprints on the sands of time

Ranners says:
Great to see you asking us I will try and come up with something makes a change
from the crossword

Joco says:
To have the world in the palm of your hand use Rohan every time, nominations for
poet laurette please

Lynne says:
I have always liked the universal slogan ‘because your worth it’ but I guess
they would not like that
Community Conversation and I am trying to think of another C could it be
Clothing?

Nick Parr says:
How about something like this
Rohantime
Rohan Past, Present and Future

Rohan Generations

Often on Rohantime we receive wonderful insights into Rohan clothing, from customers, staff and friends of Rohan. We thought it would be great to share some of these with you. These dropped into the Rohantime inbox in the last few days from Phillip Cheung. Thank you Phil. Read on…

“My brother in law

As the new boy in Finance back in 1993 I was introduced to the delight of scrap sale, an event not to be missed for someone who is new to the business as you can buy quality second hand items at rock bottom prices. To my delight I managed to pick up a Fulmer and the fleece that goes with it, you know, the one that can be zipped up with the jacket. I used them for a few years, mainly for watching football and being out and about with the boys. They kept me warm and dry and still to this day I don’t know why they were scrapped in the first place. My wife persuaded me to part with the items in 1996 when my brother in law and his family paid us a visit from Hong Kong, before their eventual emigration to Toronto in 1998. Fast forward to 2004, my brother in law and his  now much grown up family dropped in for a visit as part of their European tour and what did I see, the old Fulmer and the fleece, the whole ensemble. I was told that they were put to good use in Canada, particularly during the winter months. I stayed with them in 2007 and they were still there. Time have flown and I am not the same young man I was in 1993, but the Fulmer and his friend are still around, serving its purpose of keeping us warm and dry.

My niece

I gave my niece a waterproof ( I think it was an Atlas Travel or Atlas Adventure) in the early 1990s when she left England for China, teaching English as a foreign language after finishing university in Southampton. Two years later she met up with some friends to travel all over China, the route that eventually took her to the Silk Road, Nepal, India and Pakistan, then to Malaysia, Singapore and Australia. When we met up at some family gathering some years later she told me that the Rohan waterproof was a must have item on her travel as it kept her dry, no matter what the weather was. Two year ago my niece (now a banker’s wife living in New York) asked me to get her a waterproof as the jacket that accompanied her during her travel had finally given up the ghost. I duly obliged. I know the replacement will serve her in many years to come”.

Keep sending your Rohan stories to us please…

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