The Ridgeway

Avebury – Cheddington Station
8^th – 11^th October 2013

Introduction  

It had been a lovely summer, a bit too warm for long-distance walking. I still felt however that there was one walk left in me before the onset of winter. So I booked accommodation for the Ridgeway and hoped that I had not left it too late in the season. I vacillated between a 4 and a 5 day schedule but the difficulties in getting well-spaced accommodation on the first part of the walk were such that I ended up with a reservation for a pub on the first night which was not open until 5.30pm. I therefore decided on a 4-day trip with early morning travel and a long afternoon of walking on day one.

 

Tuesday 8^th October 2013       Avebury – Ashbury

An Avenue of Stones

Jill was up before the lark this morning and had a cooked breakfast ready for me before I had finalised the packing of the rucksack. Then she took me down to the station for the first train to Birmingham. The connections were on time and I was soon winging my way down to Cheltenham Spa where I had a very tight connection on to the Swindon line (via Stroud). Thinking that any transport problems were behind me, it was quite a shock when the multiple unit broke down at Gloucester and a replacement train was called for. It was fortunate that my connection in Swindon was not quite so tight and the new train gained some of the lost time. I had a very quick cappuccino at the bus station and then leapt onto a bus to Avebury. We arrived a few minutes behind schedule and, as on-coming darkness could be a problem later on, I set off straight away. 

I started my walk in bright sunshine by cutting across a corner of the stone circle and then out onto the road that ran parallel to the avenue of stones. I kept to the road to make better time and passed an odd young couple cuddling up together whilst lying on the roof of their old van. Soon after a police car, sirens blaring, shot passed in a great hurray. Were these events connected? Obviously not because a helicopter flew slowly over as I came out onto the A4 and the search was not aimed at the side road. It was 1.75 miles to Overton Hill and the official start of the Ridgeway. Although the sun had disappeared behind a thick layer of low cloud, it was warm enough for me to strip down to my walking shirt and shorts before I began the serious business of the day. More police sirens at the next road crossing. Then it was a long steady climb which eventually flattened out. The potential for views was obvious but the distant landscape was hidden by the water-laden air. 

Then suddenly the path dropped away and the first major feature of the walk came into view across a shallow col. Barbury Castle is a huge hill fort with double ramparts. The path climbed straight up through the middle, the atmosphere spoilt by a party of rowdy teenagers who seemed intent on chasing sheep. But I had no time to stop so I pressed on along a lovely grassy ridge which led eventually to Ogbourne St George. Not that the village is seen from the path. Before the first house has come into view, the route turns right and does a long loop to the south. After what seems like an age, and a busy road crossing, the path started to climb steeply and, for the first time, I was sweating. There was then a dreary section that emerged onto a vast high ridge with distant views of Liddington Castle. The track dipped and then climbed over the shoulder of the hill. I did not deviate to see the hill fort but dived down to the road which I followed for two miles or so to take me over the M4 and up to the foot of Fox Hill. The climb was rather taxing but I was soon over and on a flat track that ran above a series of villages dotted along the foot of the downs. At one of the connecting footpaths down off the top, I turned left and descended into Ashbury. It was not hard to find the pub, my accommodation for the night. The owner looked a little perplexed when I asked about a meal. He suggested that I should wait till after 8pm because he was busy with a party before then. From the look on my face, he could see my dismay. He relented and suggested I came down before the party arrived so it was in and out of the shower and straight down to the dining room. It had been a very long day and a long time since I had eaten. 

Avebury dep. 11.44, Overton Hill 12.15, Ashbury 18.15

GPS 22.17 miles in 6hr 32m 18s, about 20.4 miles on-route. 

I stayed at the Rose & Crown in Ashbury. Started with Wiltshire Gold (4.0%) from Arkell’s and then went on to UK Cascade (4.2%), Arkell’s beer of the month. I ate steak & kidney pudding and followed that up with chocolate sponge and ice cream.

 

Wednesday 9^th October 2013     Ashbury – Goring
Waylaid at Waylands 

It was a great shock to find out that the pub I was staying in did not do a cooked breakfast. I had a long, long day ahead of me and no prospect of finding food. Added to this, I was charged £5 for a bowl of Alpen and two slices of toast. Not a b&b that I could recommend. However such was my delight with the climb back to the Ridgeway and the first few miles of the route that I soon forgot my dismay. I had only just got into my stride when I came across the sign to Wayland’s Smithy. Not wanting to miss one of the highlights of the walk, I spend a magical few minutes entirely alone in the silent wooded setting of the ancient long barrow.  

However I had a long day in front of me and I was soon back up to speed, only to come across another opportunity for stopping. A side path to Uffington Castle on Whitehorse Hill provided views that were worth the small diversion. Then it was down to serious walking. Didcot Power Station came into view and was in sight all day and for some of tomorrow. The section over Bull Down was wonderful walking on grassy downland which continued almost until the A34 underpass. Then the route became rather dreary on a wide, rutted and flinty track passing over lower ground between hedges and offering little in the way of views.  

As the track began its long descent into the Thames Valley, I was confronted by the first of four tractor-pulled trailers full of freshly cut grass. Behind each trailer was a huge cloud of dust and out of one of these emerged a walker coming towards me, a local man who walks at least 8 miles a day for fitness and training. After a brief chat, I set off down the hill only to be passed by the returning four vehicles and more dust. I was glad to reach the tarmac because the tractors were now heading back towards me on a second run. It seemed a long drag along this lane and then the main road into Streatley. The town looked totally devoid of tea shops so I turned left towards Goring and, lo and behold, just before the bridge was a welcoming deli/coffee shop, (and it was still open!). It had been a long time since breakfast so I indulged myself with a cappuccino and a huge slice on Victoria sponge cake.  I finally staggered over the Thames and turned up Thames Road, would you believe, and walked a further half-mile on-route before turning into Mill Road to search for my b&b. I was quite tired and the hard ground had made my feet rather sore so I was glad to find my delightful overnight accommodation and have a long hot shower. 

Ashbury dep. 08.50, Goring arr. 17.10, GPS 25.35 miles in 7hrs 52m 11s plus a 30 minute coffee stop at the deli at the Swan on the Streatley Bridge. About 24.25 miles on-route. 

I stayed with Mrs Howarth, Melrose Cottage, Milldown Road, Goring. I walked to the John Barleycorn in Goring and had fish and chips, bread & butter pudding and several pints of Ringwood Boondoggle (4.2%) in very fine condition. 

 

Thursday 10^th October 2013    Goring – Cadsden (Princes Risborough)

A Grim Ditch

 

How nice it was to get a full English breakfast, and a really good one at that. The cooler weather that had been forecast had arrived overnight and I donned a long-sleeved shirt and fleece before venturing out of doors. Just before 9 am I began to retrace my steps along Mill Road and back to the riverside path. The first five miles along the Thames was a delight in the morning sunshine, on grassy paths through meadows and small villages. It was with a sense of regret that I arrived at a major road and turned right on a woodland path that ran alongside it. Another road crossing led to a long section on a narrow path raised above a desert of ploughed fields. Eventually the line of Grim’s Ditch was reached, hardly noticeable at first but getting deeper and more wooded as the higher ground was attained. Sometimes the path crossed the ditch and sometimes it ran along the bottom. But the ditch finally came to an end at Nuffield where the route turned left passed the church and over a golf course.  

The was a steep descent through more woods before the path came out onto bare agricultural land, huge fields with the path running in a straight line across the middle. I picked up and answered some text messages before descending again through more woodland and emerged at the bottom onto a straight wide track which was to take me across the countryside for many miles. This ran on the lower ground along the foot of the escarpment, passing Watlington and Lewknor and then under the M40. Crossing the A40 soon afterwards, the track resumed its straight line on a long section passed the chalk pits of Chinnor and onwards into a wooded area. At last the route turned off round a hill and then left the Icknield Way to climb uphill. There was a magnificent section along a grassy ridge with views over to Princes Risborough and beyond. There was a step climb to the top of Lodge Hill then an equally steep descent down to farmland and a golf course. A rather hairy railway crossing, high speed trains hurling round a steep curve, took me onto a climb up to the top of a railway tunnel and out onto a road. There was a section of road walking, the last section of which, an A-road into Princes Risborough was extremely busy. Just before the town, the route turned right into Upper Icknield Way and peace was restored.  

Just when a nice easy finish was the order of the day, the route then veered steeply uphill and contoured rounded a wooded hillside on narrow paths. This emerged onto a fantastic viewpoint, a grassy edge looking out over the town below. The route then took a right turn and descended steeply via a tricky forest path into the car park of the pub that I was staying in. It had been a long and varied day, some of the best walking so far. As I leapt into the shower to cleanse off the dust of the day, little did I imagine I would be triggering the smoke alarms all over the pub? As staff were running round and knocking on my bedroom door, I was prompted to dress more quickly than usual. 

Goring dep. 08.59, Cadsden arr. 17.50, GPS 27.59 in 8hr 54m 03s.

About 27.2 miles on-route. 

I stayed at the Plough at Cadsden. I had a half a duck with mash and veg followed by spotted dick & custard. The beer was all from Greene King, Gangly Ghoul (4.2%) a dark seasonal brew and the ubiquitous IPA (3.6%)

 

Friday 11^th October 2013     Cadsden  – Cheddington Station

A Game of Chequers 

The breakfast at the Plough was enormous, more than enough to keep me going for the day. I let myself out of the side door just before 8.45am. It was ever so quiet in the woodland as I set off across the road into a cold morning under a cloudless sky. Here my phone picked up a signal for the first time and I was presented with text messages from home. I was ringing home on the first climb of the day and it may have been this distraction that led me to my first error in route-finding. I was ten minutes or so wandering round Pulpit Wood trying to get back on route and I was quite relieved to once again pick up the line of sign-posts. 

I was rather annoyed at my carelessness. This had cost me time that I might not have to spare. I had a reservation booked for an afternoon train home. But this got me up to speed and I was soon walking passed notices telling me not to enter a serious crime scene. It took me a few seconds to realise I was now passing Chequers, the Prime Minister’s country house. This could be seen in the distance, lit up in the morning sunshine. I then missed another left turn which was not so costly on time and distance but jolted me back into navigation mode. I could not afford any more mistakes if I was going to make the train.  

A pleasant walk through the woods led out onto a spectacular edge of grassy down-land which terminated in Coombe Hill and its monument. Here was a magnificent view, with Aylesbury at its focal point. I chatted briefly with a girl runner, originally from Oswaldtwistle, who pointed out some of the sights to be seen. My earlier loss of time did not allow me to linger and, as the girl started her jog downwards, I followed as quickly as I could down to Wendover. The route goes right into the town before turning up a narrow path between the houses and out passed the church. 

The good weather had now deserted me. The clouds had rolled in and, by the time I had climbed out of town and through the woods, it has started to rain. So for the first time in the entire walk, it was out with the waterproofs. The drizzle got more and more persistent as I entered Tring Park, an attractive high country estate above the town. The rain was dripping off the avenues of trees and the path down to the A41 became slippery. Tring Station is a long way out of Tring and at the foot of the next (and last) big climb. Half way up the slippery scramble, I was passed by a serious fell runner who was motoring over the difficult terrain. The climb brought me out of the woodland onto a bare and grassy summit where the wind was so strong that I was struggling to make progress. It was stormy and wild as I descended to a road crossing.  

Thence onto the very last section up to Ivinghoe Beacon. It was a relief to pull up the final mound onto the trig point and viewing place. But the weather was so unpleasant that I again did not linger but set off straight down the steep face of the hill. And straight into trouble. In seconds I was in skin-ripping brambles and long scrub. So bad was it that I had to reverse my route and go back over the summit and back to the access road at its rear. This lost me more time so I ran down the busy main road into Ivinghoe village where I came to a road sign that said 'Cheddington 3 miles'. My heart sank as I now had less than an hour to the train. A quick look at the bus times showed me that I only had one method of transport available, so I set off at a slow jog down the very busy and wet road. It really was miserable conditions now and only movement kept me warm. After half an hour I saw a farmer getting out of his tractor so I went over and asked how far it was to the station. What an incredible reply! Just 50 yards down the road to the left. I was there! The station was a mile before the village so had only been two miles out of Ivinghoe.  

So I had half an hour to spare which gave me time to cross over to the deserted platform and strip off my wet clothes in the shelter on Platform 3. When the train arrived, I was back in civilian clothes and was warm dry and ready for the trip home. The 30 minute change at Milton Keynes allowed me to grab a cappuccino and pastry before the fast train took me to Stoke in exactly the hour. I was back in Macclesfield by 6.20pm and had time for a pint or two before walking home to prepare for the arrival of my daughter and her family, coming to stay for the half term holidays. No time to worry about tiredness and sore feet. The grandchildren burst into the house within minutes of my arrival and I was back in the real world. 

Cadsden dep. 08.45, Ivinghoe Beacon 14.25, Cheddington Station arr. 15.30

GPS 22.28 in 6hrs 50

Southern Highlands

Milngavie – Corrour Station
29^th April – 3^rd May 2013

Introduction

This was the 2013 edition of our annual 100 miles along our end-to-end route from Lands’ End to the North Coast of Scotland. Last year I had finished a traverse of Southern Scotland when I dropped off the Campsie Fells onto the Glengoyle Distillery. Now we were picking up that end point and continuing for another five days into the Highlands. As my daughter and family live in Scotland, I went north early to spend time with the grandchildren, waiting for Mike to arrive for our walk

 

Monday 29^th April       Milngavie – Drymen

A Day on the West Highland Way

I took my grand-daughter to school and then walked on to the station and caught a train to Glasgow Central. Mike soon joined me, having travelled up from Crewe on the Virgin Pendolino. Then it was a descent into the depths of Platform 17 for the suburban train out of town. It was a cold but beautiful spring morning as we left the Milngavie station and walked into the pedestrianised town centre, completely missing the post and sign that indicated the start of the West Highland Way (WHW). However we were soon walking north into quiet woodland beside a small stream (or do I call it a burn from now on). Within an hour we were watching an Osprey fishing in a small lochan and we seemed a million miles from civilisation. We walked for a short while with a group of Americans  
who were just setting out to walk the complete WHW. We then pushed on to the distillery where I had finished last year. Dropping my sack, I jogged the 500 yards to the point on the main road where I had actually reached last year. I then returned the same way to pick up my sack and continue up the WHW. Mike was rather critical of this, arguing that I should for completeness carry the sack everywhere, but I argued that it was me that was doing the end-to-end walk, not my sack (which is falling apart and may not last the course).

In the afternoon we were hit by a series of cold sharp showers, necessitating the donning of waterproofs. The route followed an old railway for some miles before it turned off across a river bridge where a fridge, outside a house, promised ice cream at an ‘honesty shop’. As we sat on a wall eating our choc ices, honestly paid for, a Brisbane couple walked by and we accompanied them for the final two miles along the lane into Drymen. We were later to meet Julie and Jim Woodyatt again in the pub and join them for a meal. There was a long crocodile of folk trailing into town. We had in all the years we had been doing long distance footpaths never seen such a sight. The b&b's were busy, the pubs were full and there seems an industry in driving bags up and down the route. We were the only ones carrying our kit. We were not convinced this sort of regimentation was for us. 

Milgavie dep. 11.25, Drymen arr. 15.45, GPS 13 miles in 4hr 17m 12s

We stayed in the Braeside Guest House on Main Street and ate at the Clachan Inn, the oldest inn in Scotland, lamb burgers and chips, no real puddings and little real ale. The local brew was off and after a pint of Greene King IPA, I turned to red wine. 

 

Tuesday 30^th April 2013       Drymen – Callander

Mort Safes and Cappuccino

It was a beautiful morning. There was not a cloud in the sky and the air was like cold wine. The start of the Rob Roy Way (RRW) was along four miles of road but it was a very quiet road and a relief to be on our own away from the hundreds of walkers on the WHW. We found our first RRW symbols which we followed to the point at which we turned left into the water catchment system. The initial forest road was tarmacked as it followed the line of the aqueduct which carries water from Loch Katrine to Glasgow. The aqueduct was exposed as it crossed side valleys and re-entrants and was at its most spectacular as the Corrie Aqueduct, spoilt rather by the scaffolding of the maintenance team. After this the track became stony and grassy for a while and then became wide a forestry track for the decent into Aberfoyle.  

The lane into Aberfoyle passed an old church, Kirkton Church which had had its roof removed many years ago to encourage villages to use the parish church in the centre. An interesting feature of this ruin was the two steel coffins, ‘mort-safes’, that sat either side of the entrance, designed to discourage bodysnatching. A lovely coffee shop on the main road provided cappuccinos and Victoria sponge. This refuelled us for the climb into the Montheith Hills and a lovely balcony route that gave us splendid views over the golf course and the now distant Campsie Fells. The wide forest track eventually came to an end and the route continued on a narrow and muddy path that ran through forest and meadows and a lovely section of tree-lined lochan. We pulled out onto another wide forestry track for the long descent to Callander. As we hit tarmac, we came across a council vehicle stuck in a ditch. Then we went passed a delightful old river bridge, Gartchonzie Bridge, where another council vehicle passed us obviously on its way to pull out his colleagues. 

The route took a loop around a plantation before it finally dropped into town at the local secondary school just as the students were pouring out. We followed the pupils through the sports fields and over the footbridge which took us into the main street. Calling into the visitors centre we noticed that a video show was available about Rob Roy so we quickly showered and changed at the b&b and returned to watch an interesting, but not particularly informative, reconstruction of his life. Not much is known about the man besides the fact that he kept cattle and was not averse to stealing more. 

Drymen dep. 08.45, Callander arr. 15.55, GPS 21.06 miles in 6hrs 39m 43s plus a 35 minute coffee stop. 

We stayed in the Southfork Villa Guest House in Cross Street, Callender and ate in the Waverley: steak and kidney pie and chips with apple pie and custard and two beers from the Inveralmond Brewery, Ossian (4.1%) and Lia Fail (a darker ale at 4.7%).

 

Wednesday 1^st May 2013    Callander – Killin

A Day on Old Railway Lines 

It had been raining during the night and it was still damp as we left the guest house. So with waterproofs on, we set out westwards out of town and onto an old railway line, now a cycle route. Soon it dried up and we were able to take off some layers and make good time along the side of Loch Lubhnaig. It was not flat all the way. Two sections were waterlogged so the route diverted 100ft or so up the hill to a forest track. It was lovely gentle countryside to walk though, reminiscence of the English Lake District. After nine miles, the way came down to cross the river and crossed another footbridge to reach Strathyre. There is not much there so we were glad to sit outside the village shop and have coffee from a machine.  

Then there was a rather gratuitous loop up the east side of the valley, a loop into the forest to avoid walking up the main road. It made it even more gratuitous to find that the loop was officially closed for forestry activities and we walked through stacks of wood from freshly cut trees. The descent back to the road was down an enormous zigzag that seemed to take forever. Eventually though we were down at the Kingshouse, which is not called the Kingshouse and more. It is now a trendy cafe and b&b. Passing under the new road, the RRW turned along an undulating cycle path, tarmacked in its entirety, that followed the busy road. Here we met three ladies over from Amsterdam, a mother, daughter and friend who were walking the RRW because the accommodation on the WHW was fully booked. We left them as they took the diversion into Lochearnhead. We climbed to a stunning picnic and viewpoint overlooking the loch and sat in the sun and ate our sandwiches. 

It was time for sun-cream as we set off up Glen Ogle on an old railway line giving fabulous views of the valley below. At the bealach, the road had climbed up to railway level. We then crossed the road and went off passed the memorial to the two pilots of a crashed Tornedo. The way through the woods was again closed and a diversion took us on a high level loop round into Killin. We came out into the village right opposite the Falls of Dochart, a marvellous and dramatic end to the day. 

Callander dep. 08.55, Killin arr. 16.45, GPS 23.09 in 6hr 48m 39s plus a 30 min coffee stop and a 20 min picnic. 

We stayed in Breadalbane House an ate at the Falls of Dochart. The food, black pudding for starters and fish and chips, was very good and the real ale was superb. Strathbraan Head East (4.2%) rated in a very high score (8 out or 10) and Fyne Maverick (4.2%). 

Thursday 2^nd May 2013     Killin – Rannoch Station

Trouble with Trees 

We were down before 8am but the breakfast room was locked. We really needed an early start today as we had a very long and desolate section awaiting us. The breakfast took what seemed an age to arrive and even though we had our bags packed and waiting in the hall, it was after 8.30am when we finally got underway. A quick stop at the Co-op secured some butties for a picnic lunch and then it was off up the road, first north and then west to the hydro-power station. Here we turned up a steep tarmacked track that zigzagged up to a power station compound. We failed to find the path marked on the map and spend an uncomfortable half hour contouring into the upper part of the Allt Dhuin Criosg. Eventually we came to flatter ground and a long tramp across boggy ground passed the shielings and over the Lairig Bhreislich. Our decision to descent the left bank was the correct one but it was a long and steep decent onto the easier slopes and it came as a relief to see a footbridge over the river below. We quickly dropped onto this bridge and crossed it to the road. We were soon down in Glen Lyon and, lo and behold, there in Innerwick was a tea shop. It was rather busy with walkers and cyclist but we found a table and had our tea and cake whilst talking to a couple who liked climbing and short wave radio, a strange but interesting combination. 

Then we set off on our second big climb of the day, this time with the weather closing in. The lower track up the Lairig a Mhuic was wide and well-made but came to a sudden halt and then became a sparse and slippery trod. My route guide for this section was the Scottish Hill Tracks publication. This suggested that we should scale a beallach to the west and drop onto the Rannoch Forest track at its earliest point.  Mike pointed out the advantage of continuing to the east of Meall nan Sac and contouring round to pick up the track lower down. What I did not realise was that Mike was using a 30 year old map which did not have the forest extension that was shown on mine. So we ended up with a mixture of our two ideas, not ideal, but it did avoid 500ft of climbing but entailed a long and tiresome detour along the new forest fence to get back to the forest entrance.  

It was a great relief to reach the forest track and commence the decent into Loch Rannoch. But soon some problems arose. Tree damage from a recent storm had not been cleared and we came to a huge pine, lying across the track, which could only be passed by crawling commando-style under the branches. Mike went first, and then I handed over the sacks and followed as he scrambled for his camera to record the scene. The continuation into the lower forest was surreal. The entire landscape had been clear felled, and it looked for all the world like the scenes from Hiroshima. The logs were piled up beside the track in huge (20ft high) stacks that ran for half a mile.  

As we exited the forest and crossed the river, another choice faced us. We could either turn north for the road and have a 10 mile road walk or go round to the south of Leagag and reduce the amount of tarmac. As the second option was shorter, we turned west into worsening weather and it started to rain and blow. The path round to the Allt a Mheanbh-chruidh became wet and slippery and we were glad to reach the track and get some easier walking down to Bridge of Gaur. As we turned west on to the long lonely road, the weather deteriorated further. We were 90 minutes walking the five miles to Rannoch Station, into a cold and wet gale, with only one car passing us on route. When we finally arrived, the hotel door was locked but it was soon opened to give us a warm welcome, a lovely bath and a marvellous meal. 

Killin dep. 08.37, Rannoch Station arr. 19.30, GPS 31.55 miles in 10hrs 20m 06s plus 35 minutes in the Innerwick tea shop. 

We stayed in the Moor of Rannoch Hotel, on Scott’s first day. He had bought the hotel and had moved in the previous day. He likes to stock bottles of Scottish brewed real ales and, out of his large collection, we drank Bitter and Twisted (4.2%) from Harviestoun and Sheepshaggers Gold (4.5%) from Cairngorm. We easily managed a 3 course meal as our clothes dried by an open fire. 

 

Friday 3^rd May 2013     Rannoch Station – Corrour Station

A Dreich Day on Rannoch Moor 

Listening to the rain driving against the window through the night had convinced us that it might be a good idea to abandon the last day’s walk and jump on the first train home in the morning. However the wind had dropped when we awoke so we stayed with plan A and breakfasted early, paid our bill and ventured out into the rain once again. Back down the road we went, to the track that led northwards across Rannoch Moor. The clag was hiding the high mountains and all we could see was colourless wet grassland stretching away into the mist. The path was wet, made worst in places by attempts to upgrade the route with heavy machines. The small streams of yesterday were now raging torrents and even small side streams provided interesting crossings.  

At breakfast, two ladies from our hotel had been telling us of their plans to take the early train to Corrour and walk back along the route we were taking. So it was no surprise to us when a pair of figures appeared on the track in front of us, moving slowly towards us. A quick exchange of information prepared us for the fact that the track ahead did not get any drier. We at least were now heading down out of the mist, turning left at Peter’s Stone and down towards the loch. Soon the youth hostel came into view, tucked serenely on a peninsula out into the loch. And there in the distance were the white buildings of Corrour Station. 

At the youth hostel, we joined the wide track out to the station and the rain seemed to get heavier now we were totally exposed to the huge expanses of the Moor. A Czech car was parked up at the station. Did this belong to the new owners of the restaurant? The cafe was busy with walkers all waiting for the lunchtime train and we had to slip over the line onto the platform to find a quiet shelter to change out of our wet gear. I only just managed to attain a modicum of decency before the restaurant emptied and they all came over to join us. But I was in dry clothes and feeling a bit warmer when the train pulled in and we were on our way south. It took at least an hour and several hot drinks before I felt fully comfortable by which time the train was running down passed Bridge of Orchy to Crianlarich, surely one of the most spectacular sections of railway line in the country. What a pity the mist and the water running down the windows made it hard to appreciate the scenery. 

It was 3 hours back to Glasgow then a short walk to Central Station and the train to Ayr. Rachel picked us up from the station, took us home, fed us royally (bread and butter pudding) and we slept long and well ready for the drive home.   

Rannoch Station dep. 08.35, Corrour Station arr. 12.05, GPS 11.34 in 3hrs 29m 42s

Heart of England Way

Milford – Bourton on the Water, 8^th-12^th April 2013

Introduction

 As the winter weather seemed everlasting this year, I was looking for a low level route for my spring offensive. Then we were invited to a family christening in Oxfordshire and all was revealed. I would walk there and Jill would drive down for the weekend and bring me home. And the best route available seemed to be the Heart of England Way. I made the bookings and prepared the rucksack. It all seemed so simple. Then United changed the date of their match with City.

 

Monday 8^th April       Milford – Lichfield

Home for the Derby

 I drove down to the station and caught an early train to Stafford, then a bus to Milford. This dropped me off at the very start of the route, in a car park on Milford Common. The ascent onto Cannock Chase was up a series of long steady inclines, gentle but ever upwards until the plateau was reached. I saw the trig point but failed to recognise the Glacier Boulder, unless it was a small stone near a remote car park. If this was it, then it was very disappointing. Then I must have taken the wrong path out of this car park because I never found the Polish Memorial. Instead I hit the path coming away from it and I wasn’t going back. After all, I had a train to catch.
 

There was no more trouble with route finding. Marquis Drive is a long straight route that spears across the rest of the Chase. Only a short section is tarmacked, that being around the visitor centre. The turn-off was along a very busy road and an off road alternative turned out to be very wet and muddy. But it led directly onto the footpath to Castle Ring and then passed a whole series of pubs. The descent from high ground was along another roadside path but once in the Trent Valley there was much road walking and my first ploughed field.  But I was soon in the outskirts of Lichfield, passing quickly through parks and sports field and round the back of the houses into the Cathedral precinct.

 I walked through the pedestrianised town centre until I got to Birmingham Road. There I abandoned the route, turned north and strode out for Trent Valley Station. I took a train back home, collected the car, changed and fed and set off for Old Trafford. That was a waste of time but at least I slept in my own bed.

Milford dep. 09.15, Lichfield arr. 13.30, 15 miles on route (plus another mile or more to the station) in 4hrs 15 mins.

Tuesday 9^th April 2013       Lichfield  – Whitacre Heath

Back to the Job in Hand

So it was back to the station again and another train, this time back to Lichfield. I missed the connection (signal failure) into City Station so had to resort to a taxi but was soon back in the central shopping area having a cappuccino & carrot cake. The exit from Lichfield was quite complex and I was glad of the guidebook as I took ginnels and pavements through new housing estates. Eventually I came out on the A51 and had a long stretch on the pavement to the outskirts of the city. Finally I turned out of civilisation onto a lovely straight path heading south.

At Buck Head’s Farm, just after the A5 footbridge, I met a lone woman doing the end-to-end walk. She was a GP wanting a career break who had decided to take three months leave and go for it. I wished her luck and we went our opposite ways, me to enjoy a great climb up to Rookery Farm and roads and fields to Hint’s Farm. Then followed the worst section on the entire route, four miles or more of tarmac through to Drayton Bassett and the canal. The author of the guidebook had indicated the obvious off-road alternative but was prevented from making it official by a short length of private road. It will be a great benefit when he overcomes this impasse.

It was interesting crossing the canal over the twin towers bridge and a blessed relief to be on a towpath after all that road. Three miles of towpath brought me to the first of the wildlife pools and I turned off round the lakes to reach Broomey Croft Children’s’ Farm where, Lord be thankful, there was a tea shop. A very reasonably priced tea and fruit cake saw me fuelled for the final few miles, these consisting of a tour of Kingsbury Water Park and then an exit into Kingsbury village. The approach to the village was dramatic with a ruined fortified hall high up on a bluff above the river and some steps leading up to a lovely old church.

The last section round the firing range involved a long crossing of a newly ploughed field and then across farmland into Whitacre Heath. Here I took the official route on the east side of the railway and, just as I realised I was bypassing my accommodation for the night, I came to a footbridge over the railway and back to the digs.

 Lichfield dep. 10.53, Whitacre Heath arr. 17.25, GPS 19.90 miles in 6hrs 16m 11s.

 I stayed in the Railway Guest House on Station Road, Whitacre Heath. I ate in the Swan Inn, Partridge pie and chips with spotted dick and custard and some well-kept Bass Premium Ale (4.4%).

Wednesday 10^th April 2013    Whitacre Heath – Henley in Arden

Old Churches Galore

I was woken early with water dripping from the ceiling onto the foot of my bed. Problems with the shower upstairs, said my landlady trying to remain calm. But at least I got a good early start for what was planned to be the longest day of the trip. Unfortunately it turned out to be even longer than expected. The guidebook, so reliable in every other facet, had the first section down as 3.25 miles. When my GPS reached 4.25 miles, I realised that someone had made an error, a mistake that was then replicated through the book in total aggregate mileages.

 

I could hear the M6 from more than two miles away, a constant low frequency roar. It was a relief to reach and cross it on a mud-covered farmer’s bridge. Now at least the roar was behind me. The improvement in the weather had brought out all the farmers and unfortunately I have to traverse several newly ploughed fields. A full day of this would have been dreadful but the route got less ploughed and more pleasant as I went south. 

I passed some lovely old churches, in particular St Laurence at Meriden and St John Baptist at Berkswell. The latter had a medieval wooden porch on its south door. I took a quick peep inside and gave thanks for the continuing dry weather. I was sunburnt. Then I passed over the boardwalks and into parkland. Just then, my phone rang. It was my daughter Rachel with some news that stopped me in my tracks. She was expecting another baby and I was to be a grand-father once again. I was so preoccupied with the prospect that I completely missed the loop into Baddesley Clinton and was on the road through the village before I realised my error. But who cares when you are walking on air. I got back on-route at the Poor Clares Convent and in no time at all was down at the magnificent old hall. The good weather had brought every one out and their dog. The car park was heaving and it was not the day for a quiet look around. I must return here again.  

Then it was only a short section to the complex of canals that, once successfully navigated, would lead directly towards the end of my day. The towpath of the Stratford Canal passed under the M40 and at the next village, I turned for home. A surprising hilly section finished on the Mount, an Iron Age fort overlooking Henley. The staggering views gave a good end to the day. A steep descent to another old church dropped me straight onto the main street. My hotel was a short way to the left. 

Whitacre Heath dep. 08.40, Henley in Arden arr. 17.20, GPS 26.54 in 8hr 38m 28s 

I stayed in the Bridge House Hotel and tried to eat at the White Swan (superb pint of Chamberlain Pale Ale 4.5% from Two Towers Brewery) but they had a function on so I retreated to an Indian (Naya) and sunk two pints of Cobra. 

Thursday 11^th April 2013     Henley in Arden – Lower Quinton

Protests in the Country 

It had rained during the night and it was wet underfoot for the first time this week. It was a grey misty morning and very cold, what a Scot would refer to as driek. But it was good walking over grassy fields up to Bannam’s Wood. There was enough uncleared windfall in the woods to make it a tricky traverse. But the route turned soon enough towards Alcester. The last mile into town were spectacular, along a high ridge that led right into the out suberbs with industry on either side. The town itself looked very pleasant but the coffee shops were very busy. One was too full to consider whilst the next suggested I look elsewhere. Well, it was a bit early for a morning break so I walked on. 

I continued up the hill out of town and passed Oversley Castle, a relatively modern construction.  
Then it was a long line of stiles through Wixford and Broome before entering the outskirts of Bidford on Avon. At the old river bridge, I glance towards the town centre and, lo and behold, there was a tea shop. A pot of Earl Grey and a ‘lardy’ were just what the doctor ordered. So 30 minutes later, I was still preparing to cross the narrow bridge. On the other side the route crossed the flood meadows to Barton which had a very nice-looking pub. Then a farm track seemed to go on for ever. This brought me to new coverts, plantations under the Heart of England Forest Project.

In Dorsington, I admired the expensive house mentioned in the guidebook. Banners all over the village professed the local opposition to a wedding venue and party tent at the nearby hotel. A long flat section beside a stream led across the fields to Long Marston, a one street town on a busy road. A two mile stretch of field edge paths took me round and into Lower Quinton. At the junior school, I left the route and turned right in search of my b&b. This turned out to be the very last building in the village. I arrived just in time. The rain bucket down until it was time to go out in search of food. 

Henley in Arden dep. 08.51, Lower Quinton arr. 16.40, GPS 21.46 miles in 7hrs 18m 36s 

I stayed in Vicarage Farm which was at the western extremity of the village. The walk across the village to and from the College Arms added another two miles to the day’s total. The Venison Casserole & dumplings was perfect. The beer was Doom Bar (Sharps/Coors at 4.0%)

 

Friday 12^th April 2013     Lower Quinton – Bourton on the Water

Gloucestershire Mud 

I was back on a tight schedule today as Jill was driving down this afternoon to meet me. So I went for an early get-away and was quickly back onto route and along the road to Upper Quinton. From there a field path contoured round Meon Hill and it was quite difficult to pick the exact line. The overnight rain made all off-road walking extremely slippery. But I was soon in Mickleton, the home of the Pudding Club. But I saw nothing of the village as I went straight through between the houses and came out at the church. Then there was a long climb up a muddy field and on to Mickleton Hills. The farm was a beautiful building and then the path turned right across the top of the railway tunnel entrance and headed off into Chipping Campden. This looked gorgeous in a bit of morning sunshine. What a pity I had no time for tea shops. 

A ploughed field into Broad Campden was a pain and the slippery and overgrown contour out to Campden Hill Farm was a drag. I just could not get any pace or rhythm going. Then it began to rain again and the farm track descended into mud. I gained two inched in height in the next mile. There was a deep valley between me and Blockley and I was getting hotter and hotter in all my rain gear. I had a five minute mind block before I found to correct path out of Blockley. This led up another steep climb to where a party of day walkers were warning me of even more mud. The next section and especially the descent into Batsford Park was a nightmare as I skated from side to side on the increasingly slippery surface. I was glad to get to the bottom and to turn onto the paths and roads that led to Bourton on the Hill.

The sun came out again as I set off into Sezincote Park and off came all the waterproofs. But the only likeliness to Rajasthan came from the Sezincote House. The mud told me that I was not in India. Then in Longborough a black cloud deposited another load of water onto the footpaths and
even the grassy field were now slow going. Jill text me to say she was parked up and I had to reply that I would be late. What with slipping and sliding and taking waterproofs on and off, I was running behind schedule.

So it was after 4pm (our rendezvous time) that I was waiting to cross the busy Bourton by-pass. I walked back into suburbia and found the path to the church that was the end of the way. Jill was walking up High Street as I arrived at the finish. She had recced the tea shops and I was soon tackling a large piece of Victoria Sponge, the first thing I had eaten all day. Then she bundled me into her car and we drove off for our weekend and Christening in Oxfordshire. 

Lower Quinton dep. 08.38, Bourton on the Water arr. 16.07, GPS 22.69 in 7hrs 29m 03s

Conclusions 

I was amazed at the sustained quality of the route of the trail. The avoidable road sections and the ploughed fields did not detract from some lovely (and hilly) countryside. And remember, the Way is at least a mile longer than the guidebook says.

 

 

Camel -Teign Ivor's Dream 100

 

Jamaica Inn – Teignmouth

23^rd-26^th March 2013

 

Introduction

Mike was planning an attempt on the 2013 LDWA 100. Success would be his 20^th over at 25 year period, a remarkable feat. But a recce would be of great benefit, especially a recce of the section he would be doing under darkness. So he arranged a four day trip to look at the last 77 miles of the route and invited me to join him. The route was breath-taking in its concept, a coast to coast west-east traverse of Bodmin Moor and Dartmoor from the Atlantic to the Channel coast, from Cornwall to Devon. How could I resist!

Saturday 23^rd March 2013       Jamaica Inn – North Hill

I’m Dreaming of a White Easter

As the snow began to fall, Jill drove me to the station to catch an early morning train. The roads were covered with slush and I was worried about dragging her out on such a morning. Mike was already waiting for me with the train tickets and we were soon off to Birmingham passing through a snow-covered landscape. The east wind was blowing more snow almost horizontally across the fields. As we got further south the snow got thicker. At New Street Station we stood watching the departures board whilst awaiting the delayed connection. But, half an hour late, the Exeter train arrived and on we got. Ten minutes out of Birmingham, however, we ground to a halt. Trees brought down by the combined weight of wind and snow were blocking the line. Eventually we returned to New Street and tried again on the next train, absolutely packed now of course with reservations out of the window and under a snow drift.

We eventually got through the blockage and headed south and southwest to catch a connection at Exeter that put us 2 hours behind our original schedule. So it was nearly 4 pm when we arrived at Bodmin Parkway and 4.15pm when the taxi dropped us at Jamaica Inn. (The driver had been
expecting to put his clocks forward that night – a week early – so it’s a good job we hadn’t booked him for the following day!) There was no snow but at least it was not raining. With seven mile to cover and racing the oncoming dusk, there was no time for niceties. We were off, along a lane and through farmland onto Bodmin Moor. The moor itself was trackless and the traverse was on a compass bearing which was not particularly accurate. We ended up south of our intended target but a wall corner was a superb orientation point and we scampered off the moor and along the lanes into North Hill as darkness descended. The pub was the very last building in the village.

 Jamaica Inn dep. 16.15, North Hill  arr. 18.30,  GPS  7.16 miles in 2hrs 13m 07s

Stayed in the Racehorse Inn. Ate chicken curry, apple crumble and custard and pints of Harbour Brewery, Bodmin, Light Ale  3.7% and Sharps Doombar 4%. The offer of 2 courses for £10 was excellent value.

Sunday 24^th March 2013       North Hill – Tavistock
Turkey Attack

We had ordered breakfast for 8am and were down early. We had a big day ahead of us. So, with a full English inside to keep us warm, we set off at 8.45am down the lane and steep grassy field to the local stream where the owner of the pub was walking his dog.  Then followed a steep climb onto Twelve Mans Moor, the last outlier of Bodmin Moor. Another compass crossing, more accurate this time, led us across trackless moorland onto a huge pile of boulders where the instructions told us to turn left and aim for a 20ft high granite outcrop. This was entirely overshadowed by Sharp Tor and did not become obvious until we had reached it. But we then had the line off the moor down to an enclosed lane and farm track. A granite based tramway took us round the hillside to Minions and our first civilisation of the day. The surrounding hills were covered by derelict chimneys and wheel-houses from old mining works.

It was too early to stop in a café so on we strode along a long tarmacked lane that led to a hill covered with communications towers. Then a grassy descent besides a wall took us down to Pensilva. We met a guy there who obviously knew what we were up to; he had a friend who was a member of the LDWA and was considering have a go at the 100. The next section took us through Scrawsdon Farm where Mike was attacked by a huge turkey, displaying with its colourful tail/ruff feathers. It pecked at us as we crossed the farm yard and then chased us up the track. ‘Better than a guard dog’, said the farmer. ‘Just wait till Christmas’, replied Mike.

As we crossed Kerney Bridge, we were face with a ‘footpath closed’ sign. Undeterred we blundered on, to find the only concern was that a small drainage channel (canalised steam) had lost its footbridge. As it could be crossed with a single stride, a plank would have sufficed. The footpath closure was another example of health & safety madness in action. There was no café open on a Sunday in Callington so we sat on a bench near the church and ate our snacks (and froze).  Then, after a stutter with the route near Tesco we climbed out of town and up to Kitts Hill, supposedly a fine view point but not today. Another missed turned cost us an extra ¼ mile on the way down but the rest of the section was on easy lanes and tracks to Luckett. Another short rest prepared us for the denouement of the day, the muddy exit from the village and crossing of the Tamar at Horsebridge (“leaving God’s own country  behind” said the Route Description). Devon did not initially seem as attractive. A climb through a huge wood was topped by contaminated water signs and an old arsenic works. Then there was much road walking to reach Tavistock over the historic old railway viaduct.
 

We stayed in Kingfisher Cottage beautifully situated on the banks of the river. The owner had just got in after organising the local half-marathon. We might have been better running this. We had walked more than twice the distance. There was no pub in town serving food on a Sunday evening! So we ate in the Tavi Friary, a fish & chip shop (bottled Jail Ale 4%, from Dartmoor Brewery.

North Hill dep. 08.45, Tavistock arr. 18.15, GPS 27.92 miles in 9hrs 26m 30s.

Monday 25^th March 2013    Tavistock – Ashburton
Jail Ale Rock

It promised to be a shorter day, even though we were attempting a complete traverse of Dartmoor. So a more leisurely breakfast and start time led to me ringing Rachel as we climbed in bright sunshine steeply onto and over the golf course. It was soon too cold for messing around and we donned cagoules over the already well-covered torsos. The wind was penetrating five layers of winter walking gear. We thought that we were aiming at the tops of a series of high rocky tors and felt cheated when our route took us round and down a long series of roads. Eventually however we got up high to contour round Ingra Tor on an old railway track. A series of right turns then took us up again to a wide track which curved and contoured for miles through the moor to Princetown. It was on this section that we met more walkers than at any other part of our journey. A Duke of Edinburgh party of girls, then dog walkers, all were out walking towards us. We were the only ones attempting the trip into the bitingly cold wind. The route entered town passed the brewery that had made last night’s beer, Jail Ale.

The Old Police Station Café was open in Princetown so in we went and ordered our soup, apple pies and coffee. It was tempting to stay in the warmth for the rest of the day but it was eventually time to venture out again onto Dartmoor. The section over to Huccaby Farm was described as easy and so it was except for the bleakness, bogginess, straightness and pathless nature of the route. It was a blessing when we crossed the River Swincombe and climbed into farmland and civilisation. Huccaby Farm is in a lovely spot opposite an old church. The next mile was far from lovely, first climbing a field of deep vehicle tracks, then dropping through ankle deep water to another hamlet before emerging on the road at Dartmeet. Then an ultra-steep climb on tarmac and a narrow trod which cut off a corner of the road. The trod continued a few yards to one side of the road, a poor attempt at keeping walkers off this busy highway. A wall was followed over almost trackless access land before we finally dropped onto a quiet lane which led us round to Dr Blackall’s Drive.

Then followed some of the finest walking on the entire route. The drive became an undulating track clinging to the edge of a long ridge and overlooking the wooded valley of the Dart, 500ft or so below. It could have been Scotland and Switzerland for that magnificent few miles. All too soon we were dropping down and down back to river level, this time to cross the Dart again at New Bridge. A late climb led over another ridge and down to the Dart for the last time at Holne Bridge. A long road section took us through the narrow lanes and into the outskirts of Ashburton.  

We stayed in the Old Coffee House next to the church. Across the road, the Exeter Inn was in the Good Beer Guide. (Dartmoor IPA 4.0%). But not the Good Food Guide so we went up the road to the Royal Oak where we got free puddings with our main course, (Teignworthy Reel Ale).

Tavistock dep. 09.00, Ashburton arr. 17.45  GPS  22.76 miles in 8hrs 4m 31s

Tuesday 26^th March 2013     Ashburton – Teignmouth

Dash for the Train

We had the usual breakfast at the usual time. Mike ate all the carbs, I waited for the full English. Jack Sprat (or am I his wife?). The sun shone again as we headed north and then east through the woods and up to Owlacombe Cross. Along the road to Sigford, we picked up a dog; or rather an overweight Labrador picked us up. Whatever we did we could not rid ourselves of this dog. We tried climbing stiles and shutting gates in its face but it still found a way through. Three miles down route, and way from its home, we came across another farm where the farmer agreed to tie up our companion and ring the number on its collar (muttering “there might be a reward” under his breath).

On our own at last we climbed over the next hill and round the back of the houses in Liverton The next section was close rather suburban, including dog walkers. One in particular was most interesting. As we crossed a wooded parkland, we got into conversation with a guy exercising two pointer dogs. He was a police dog handler, a dog psychologist, and these dogs could take down an escaping criminal or sniff out drugs. A microchip in each dog reveals that they cover 45 miles each working day, beyond even our scope as long distance walkers.

There was a horrible section of flooded tracks and boggy heathland before we got to Chudleigh Knighton, a one-street town. Here we came across the River Teign, sure signs that we were reaching the conclusion of our walk. A long section of road took us round Ugbrooke House and its vast estate. The lead-in track to Larcombe Farm was also flooded, this time in shin-deep reddy mud and water. After a brief stop for a bite to eat, we set off from the farm in the wrong direction. This cost us almost
15 minutes and put us back on a very tight schedule to catch the train. So we had to concentrate hard now on the last big climb, a mile-long bridleway over the last ridge before the sea. At last though, we were racing over Teignmouth golf course and down Shepherds Lane into town.
 

The whereabouts of the school was pretty obvious. Hundreds of students were spilling out of college as we made our way through the town. The stream of children led us to the footbridge across the main road which would be the end of the 100. We then turned away from the school and headed for the station. We arrived with minutes to spare and were soon on our way to Exeter and then Birmingham. We missed the direct train connection at New Street so had to wait for a train to Stoke. Here we parted, me to jump on a fast train to Macclesfield and Mike to wait for a stopper to Congleton. Mike was met at the station whilst I got the dubious opportunity to make our 78 mile walk a round 80.

Ashburton dep. 08.45,  Teignmouth Station arr. 15.25    GPS 21.14 in 6hrs 44m 43s.