Well, things are looking up! With the loosening of the Coronavirus restrictions and a return to some sort of organised sport, we're finally going Audaxing again. With my last outing being The south of bucks winter warmer back in December, it seems like forever ago that I was last out and whilst it's been a long time coming, hopefully now we are on the right path to freedom we wont end up back here again. I'm in no way adverse to going out for a few miles on my own. But, knowing that someone else has taken the time to put together a route, is going to be at the start to see you off and there at the end to check you back in again, is a big incentive for getting out there when the weathers not looking too promising or your just suffering from a touch of the old "can't be bothered". No problems with motivation, or the weather this week though, and I'd been looking forward to this one since Audax UK announced a phased return too riding earlier in the year. In order to limit the social interaction, in what's already, predominantly an individual effort, start times have been split up, one way systems introduced and café stops and controls replaced with information controls and proof of passage. All good, sensible and safe systems, that have been put in place too ensure a safe return to the sport we love. Restricted numbers or not, it was good to be heading off, on what was a new to me route. Out of Caversham it's straight onto the first long slow climb of the day, heading for the higher ground overlooking Watlington, the effort of climbing, gradually driving the morning chill and stiffness from my muscles. Ascending slowly and steadily through the Oxfordshire countryside, the roads were still quiet and with the sun shining, church spires poking through the low laying mist, and the hedgerows proudly showing off their first bright green leaves, it was, as always, a pleasure to be out. A detour for a road closure prior to Thame caused a few issues, requiring a deviation from the route sheet and adding a couple of additional miles to the days total. When your looking at covering 130 miles anyway, a couple of extra's no real issue. The increased traffic on the busier roads of the diversion, being more of a problem. From Thame up to Buckingham is surprisingly flat and with the route following some good roads I was making excellent time. A quick pause for a proof of passage receipt from a handy cashpoint at Buckingham and off again, heading for Bletchley Park, home to the WW2 code breakers and Alan Turing after who todays ride has been named. It's amazing to think, as I sit here now, tapping away on my laptop keyboard, that this was the birthplace of computing. A place where countless volunteers worked ceaselessly under the tightest of security to decipher supposedly un-crackable codes as part of the war effort. Work which lead to mechanisation and computerisation of the process and has ended up where we are today, in a digital age, with previously unthinkable information freely available at out fingertips. From Bletchley and it's history, it's on to Milton Keynes, infamous for it's roundabouts, lack of street names and 1970's architecture, before the long climb up to Ampthill and the opportunity to grab a sandwich, a slice of cake and 10 minutes sat in the sunshine. Lunch done, it was soon time to start the final leg back towards home, not before stripping off the winter gloves, leg warmers and winter jacket in favour of shorts and a thin top though. I'm pretty sure that this was the first time this year that it's actually been warm enough to get my legs out on the bike and it made a pleasant change to feel the breeze blowing over them. Maybe not the best look with winter boots, long woolly socks, and shorts, but when the sun shines, need's must, and whilst I didn't hear any shouts of affection for the rest of the day, I didn't get reported to the "Pasty skinny leg police" either, so that's a positive. Dunstable, came and went in the early afternoon sun and with it the end of the easy, flat riding. Tring, following soon after, marked the start of the serious climbing as the route entered the Chiltern Hills, home to some steep climbs, each of which seems to be followed by an equally precipitous descent, before the whole process starts again. With over 100 miles already in my legs progress slowed somewhat as each climb and descent came and went. Personally, I'm not complaining though, the flat easy ridings alright, but it gets a bit dull pretty quickly. At least when things get a bit more hilly they get a bit more interesting. Glimpses of far off towns and villages from the tops of hills, wooded hillsides, fast flowing streams and smaller quieter roads, all in exchange for a bit of climbing with the chance to stretch your legs and a few exhilarating downhill's. What's not to like about that? By the time Henley on Thames came along my legs were certainly starting to feel it, not far to go now though. Just one more big climb and then it's all down hill too the finish. Rolling to a stop back at the start just before 17:00 with 136 miles on the clock and tired legs was a great feeling. The sun had shone all day and once the early morning chill had evaporated it had been a pleasantly warm day. I'd caught the sun on my nose and the tops of my legs, unused to seeing the sun after the long winter, had a bit of a pink tinge to them. As a return to Audaxing after the lockdown things couldn't have gone much better, and as I sat on the step of the van with a brew, having stretched off and put my bike away, it was with a deep sense of satisfaction and a feeling that maybe at long last things are starting to get back to normal! Last week I mentioned how cold I thought this spring had been and how I thought we were two or three weeks behind on the allotment. Well, just to prove my point here's a couple of pictures that I found the other day showing the allotment and Greenhouse on the 3rd of May 2020. And similar views from this weekend. All a little bit different I'm sure you'll agree!
If and when it does eventually warm up a bit it will soon catch up and I'm pretty sure we're not going to end up starving due to a late spring. But it just goes to show not only how at the mercy of the weather we are, but how much difference a change in the temperature of just a few degrees can make to things!
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Whilst perusing the web looking for my next adventure the other day, I stumbled across a review for a 140 mile loop around Berkshire. "H'mmm", thought I. 140 miles around Berkshire, that sounds right up my alley, and at a distance that could be good for a cheeky Friday night / Saturday morning mini adventure, "prey, tell me more"! Looking at the suggested route, there were a couple of bit's that didn't particularly take my fancy. Mainly a somewhat unnecessary slog through the middle of Reading and an additional loop that heads up past Maidenhead. I'm guessing that the original route goes through Reading to avoid the hilly area to the North and to take in the cycle path along the Kennet and Avon Canal as it passes through town. As for the bit to Maidenhead, well your guess is as good as mine. I mean why would anyone choose to go there, you'd be better off going to Slough! A bit of jiggling with the route through the week to take into account my overnighting plans and I had a route that I thought would work better for my needs. Chuck in a start from home (or work as it turned out) and I had a reasonable looking 150 miles of spring fun lined up. With the forecast for Friday night and Saturday morning looking good, I dug my panniers, hammock, and all the other bits and bobs out of the loft Thursday night, packed up the bike and cycled into work Friday morning with everything I'd need for a night away. Escaping from work, after a few hours of clock watching, I was on my way North by mid afternoon. A short leg through the North Hampshire countryside, on what was a sunny but somewhat chilly afternoon, left me picking up the planned route just before the massive housing project which is ongoing on the site of the old Arborfield Garrison and I was soon on my way proper. Being a Friday afternoon the roads were busy heading towards Bracknell, but it didn't take long too reach the car free sanctuary of Windsor Great Park and with it the opportunity to get the first of many brews on. A handily positioned bench, ideally situated, beneath a statue commemorating the Prince Consort, gave me somewhere to rest my legs for a while as I enjoyed the afternoon sun and the brief respite from the traffic. Thirst sated and biscuits scoffed, it was onward, through Windsor and it's surrounds. Media broadcast trucks, getting ready for Saturdays funeral arrangements replaced the more traditional hoards of tourists, adding to the normal traffic problems, and it was slow going for a while. Pushing steadily on as the afternoon turned slowly to evening, I stopped briefly in Sonning Common as I looped around the top of Reading to pick up supplies for tea and top off my water bottles for the night. No time to stop for too long though, as I planned on getting a few more miles in before dark. Through Whitchurch-on-Thames and back over the River Thames again, I was making good progress. The roads were quieter now, with the rush hour over and all the normal people tucked up at home having their tea and settling down for the evening. Not me though, not today anyway, as I continued peddling on towards the setting sun. By the time I passed under the A34 at East Ilsley it was getting dark and with just over 80 miles on the clock for the day, it seemed sensible to find a spot for the night, grab something to eat and get my head down for a few hours. Supernoodles, Pitta bread and cheese sandwiches, washed down with a brew and a couple of biscuits, may not be the most luxurious of meals. But as I sat, gently swaying in my hammock, watching the stars start to fill the now dark skies as bats patrolled along the tree line on the look out for their own suppers, it seemed pretty luxurious too me! With clear sky's, the temperature dropped rapidly as it got dark and I awoke a few times in the night with cold feet! Cold feet or not, I slept reasonably well considering this was my first night in the hammock for a while, and as the sun came up I dragged myself back out from the comfort of my warm and snug sleeping bag to get packed up and have a brew. Just after 06:00 I was back on the now deserted roads, but to say it was cold would have been an understatement. Considering it's the middle of April it was bloody freezing! The surrounding fields were covered in a hard and thick layer of frost, the roadside puddles and my toes were frozen solid, and when I went to grab a drink a short while later my water bottles had frozen into a thick slush! But, most importantly, the sun was shining and bringing with it the good news that things were going to get better as the morning progressed. I pushed on for an hour or so, before stopping in the early morning sun for breakfast and the chance to shed a few layers of clothing. Sat with my back leaning against my bike, a brew on the go, and my belly fully of porridge. I watched a pair of Swallows, the first I've seen this year, and another sure sign that warmer days are on their way, sunning themselves, as I was, warming themselves after their own travels and the cold night. Warmed, fed and watered it was time to push on and I made steady progress through the morning. Crossing back over the M4 at Membury always seems to mark a milestone in any adventure, and brings with it a return to more familiar roads and with them the chance to relax a bit. With less need to concentrate on the route there was more chance to take in the world around me. Daydreaming along the quiet country roads I saw my first Bluebells for the year, along with the normal Kites, Deer and spring lambs. Cattle, finally released to graze the fresh grass, after their winters confined to the farmyard and the safety it brings, frolicked in the fields as I passed, and the Goldfinches flitted from the hedgerows ahead of me. One more short stop for a brew and a biscuit (or two) sat in the sun, provided the chance to stretch my legs, watch the world go by for a while, and refuel before the last few miles home. Well into home territory by now, passing familiar landmarks, on roads made familiar from other, shorter adventures, the remaining miles passed quickly and it wasn't long before I was rolling to a stop at home, marking the end of another mini adventure. 150 miles through some beautiful countryside, a night under the stars and still home by lunchtime. I think that's a pretty good way to start your weekend don't you? I'm not sure if I'd be in any rush to repeat the first half of this route though. The East side of Berkshire is pretty built up, with some heavy traffic and some busy roads. Not ideal cycling territory and you need to be on your guard, with your wits about you if your going to escape from the traffic madness intact. As soon as your past Reading though, it's a different matter and your onto some lovely quiet roads with some great views and some idyllic cycling. A route of two halves then and I certainly know which half of Berkshire I prefer! After the excitement of Friday night and Saturday morning, the rest of the weekends a bit of a let down I'm afraid. Saturday afternoon I headed up to the allotment to get the next set of seeds going in the greenhouse (Courgette, Sweetcorn, French and Runner Beans, Pumpkins and Squash) as well as look over what's supposed to be already growing. I've got to say that we seem to be a long way behind this year, compared to normal. Most years the greenhouse staging is groaning under the weight of summer bedding, Brassicas and other veg, all waiting to be planted out, once any chance of frost has passed, by now. This year though most of it's not even sprouted yet, and what has is just sat there looking sorry for itself. In previous years I've been fretting about planting tomatoes and cucumbers out in the greenhouse before they get too leggy by now. This year they are currently still on the windowsill at home, trying to grow enough to get potted on! There's no doubt that it's been an unusually cold spring so far, which is what seems to be holding everything back. Not too worry though, nature always sorts itself out in the end and it's always surprising how quickly things grow once the conditions are right. Sunday I was up early for a few running miles around the local countryside. With the sun shining again, next to no wind and most people still in bed, it was a lovely morning just to be out and about. I didn't push too far or too hard, just plodded along, enjoying the feeling of the ground under my legs and the steady rhythm of my breathing, as I slowly moved through the waking morning. The days when you just go out to run for the sake of running, with no ulterior motives and no real plan often seem to be some of the best. Some days everything just seems to fall into place and it just seems effortless. There always seems to be something to look at, or something to distract you, and the miles just seem to tick steadily along and this was one of those days. It was almost a shame, and I really considered just running past home and keeping going, when I got back with 16 miles under my belt. I can't just spend my whole life having fun though and there were other things to be doing, not just running. There's brews to drink, lunch to eat, windows to clean, light bulbs to change, lawns to mow, bikes to oil and the whole plethora of other uninteresting jobs that need doing, and I keep putting off, to be getting on with. A few more running miles anyone? Unusually, I'm going to wrap up this week with a bit of a rant. Now I don't want to flame the cyclist V motorist debate, but for the first time in as long as I can remember I've had to put up with 2 instances of road rage in as many days. I'm guessing that as the suns out and the shops are open again, everything has gone back to normal and this is how it will be going forward. I sorely hope not, but I'm going to mention both bits here in the hope that it may make someone stop and think.
----------------------------------------------------------------- If your traveling down a quiet country lane in your Range Rover / Massive BMW / Insert ego extension here, and you come across a cyclist, who's already moved over as far as they can, because they heard your massive polluting 2 tons of metal coming, long before you even considered looking up from your phone, and you find that you humongous car still wont fit through the gap, then there's no point beeping your horn and getting wound up about it. Just consider the fact that the cyclist is taking up less than a meter of the road. It's your penis extension which is taking up all of the other 4 meters. It's your car which is too wide to get through the gap, and is far bigger than the roads were designed for. Beeping, shouting or expecting the cyclist to stop to let you past isn't going to help and is likely to end in tears. Maybe consider getting a smaller car, then you'll be able to fit through quite happily! --------------------------------------------------------------- If your travelling down a 2 lane country road and find yourself at the back of a line of traffic and get held up for a few seconds because the person at the front of the line is dithering along and can't decide whether to overtake the cyclist or just sit behind, then that's not my fault. When eventually they do finally make the move and you all come streaming past, It's pointless winding down your passenger window, pulling alongside and shouting abuse whilst threatening the cyclist with your 2 tons of metal for being in the way. For a starters, your stuck in line of traffic because the car driver at the front is holding you up, and has been for long enough to gather a line of traffic behind them. Just because you've then been further delayed by their lack of ability to overtake slower traffic safely, is not the fault of the cyclist, it is the fault of the car driver at the front of the line! Threatening a vulnerable road user with your shiny new higher purchase ego extension is not big or cleaver and is likely to end in tears. Tears which are likely to be yours, either because you've managed to knock the cyclist down and kill them in your fit of rage and your going to have to spend the rest of your life with that on your conscience. Or, because they've caught up with you while your stuck at the next road junction and given you back better than you gave in the first place! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- We can all exist quite happily together on the roads if we just show a bit of cooperation, consideration and manners. In the main our country roads were designed for horses and carts, pedestrians, cyclists and the cars you see today in museums and at historic car runs. They weren't designed for stupidly big, BMW X6s, Range Rovers or Porsche Macan's (whatever they are supposed to be). If your having difficulties getting past, then please consider that it's as much your fault for driving around in a car the size of a tractor, as it is the fault of the cyclist or pedestrian for having the temerity to take up 50 cm's of road. Likewise if your delayed by 30 seconds until a safe place to pass becomes available, then please take the time to consider what you are being delayed from, before you lose the plot. Your Costa's not going to get cold, your not missing anything on the TV, because there's nothing on worth watching, and the shops will still be open when you get there 30 seconds later. And if it is something important, then maybe you should have just got up 5 minutes earlier! Hopefully by next week the sun will have gone back in, everyone will have got bored of the shops being open again and got their hair cut, and we can go back to normal! If not please just think before you lose the plot, you'll only give yourself a heart attack otherwise! Here we go again then. We're well into April and that can only mean one thing. It's time for a bit of Marathon A Month Madness. It seems unbelievable that it was 12 months ago that we we're just starting off on the lockdown journey and with it the need for social distancing and all that it entails. lockdowns and social distancing, which have resulted in there being no organised sport for such a long time. Not for much longer though, with things slowly freeing up again, fingers crossed, this will be the last socially distanced marathon for a while! Last April's Marathon effort involved a loop around home, keeping it local and just trying to keep the miles coming in. With the gradual relaxing of restrictions it seemed acceptable to take this months efforts a bit further from home though, and as such I decided on a revisit to the route of the punchbowl marathon. I'd previously run this route back in August 2020 on what was one of the hottest days of the year and I'm quite happy to admit that not only did it seem to be one of the hardest routes that I'd run, but that I'd really struggled on that occasion. If I think back to all my long running endeavours, this was probably the closest that I'd come to having to give up. Not that that was an option, as I had no other way of getting back to the van, but the thought was in my mind for quite a while! It's a complicated route with numerous twists and turns, hidden, un-signposted footpaths, rough and sandy surfaces, long, often steep climbs and no real options to quit if things are going wrong. But, on the plus side, it's a beautiful route, with great views, crossing some spectacular countryside and not only is it a marathon, but it's 30 miles, resulting in even more time to enjoy the fun! I took the van down Friday night and found a quiet spot for the night on the outskirts of Elstead and was up and ready to go by 08:00. I'd normally say "Raring" to go, but I must admit that my heart wasn't in it Saturday morning. My legs felt heavy and I seemed to be lacking my usual enthusiasm. I was there now though, so I might as well crack on and see how things felt once I got going. With any luck as I started to run the stiffness out of my legs and get warmed up a bit things would improve, and if they didn't? Well, lets not go there! Running the route counter clockwise, I crossed the River Wey for the first time and set off into the deserted countryside, past massive, secluded houses which mark this part of the Surrey commuter belt, their occupants still slumbering after a hard week in the city at this still early hour. Past the numerous ponds fed by small streams running off the surrounding hills, where I'd thrown refreshing cold water over my head on that scorching August day last year and onwards, North across the sandy soil which marks this part of the world. Once my legs had warmed up and my early reticence wore off, I made steady progress. Today was never going to be about fast times, more a gentle day out in the countryside and I set a pace aiming for 5 hours for the planned 30 miles. As the 10 mile mark came and went I was spot on time wise and running well. I knew from my previous exploits in this neck of the woods that the hardest part was still to come though, with the long, leg sapping climb up to the A quick pause to grab a snack from my bag as I crossed the River Wey for the second time and off across the sand of Hankley Common. Past the golfers at Hankley Common Golf Club, like many, returning to their sport for the first time since the freeing of lockdown restrictions, and onto the start of the climb up to the It's a long old uphill slog this one, uphill all the way from the common to the top, with no respite! The majority of it's runnable though, provided you don't go too hard and take it steady. Slowly upwards, the miles gradually ticking off and the numbers of walkers and mountain bikers steadily increasing as you near the top and the car parking facilities on offer. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, the path flattens off and the views to the North, back the way you've come, open out to an outstanding panorama back across the Surrey countryside. Another quick breather and a hot cross bun (still the running food of champions, along with marmalade sandwiches, as far as I'm concerned) and then it's off along the ridgeline and down the other side to cross under the A3 as it exits the tunnel at Hindhead. I'm well though the 20 mile mark now and counting down the miles left to run. Maybe a touch of complacency, or maybe I'm getting tired, but I somehow miss a turn and before I know it I'm off route and struggling to work out how to get back on. The GPS seems to show that if I pick up another path to my right and then a short road section I'll intersect my planned route further on, so that's what I do. 2 and 1/2 miles later, I get spat out back where I was before I went wrong! Bugger, that's a lot of wasted energy and somewhat annoying. Oh well, at least I know where I went wrong. I easily spot my mistake the second time round and pick up where I left off. Frustrating, but not the end of the world, it's not a race and the extra couple of miles wont kill me! The leg from Wormley back towards the final crossing of the A3 seems to take an age, but I must still be moving fairly well, as I manage to keep pace with another runner who appears out of the trees, as if by magic, from another path off to the side. Slowly the miles continue to tick down and as I cross the A3 and start the final leg across Thursley Common my watch beeps to signify the 30 mile mark and 5 hours since I set off. Bang on planned pace, but still a couple of miles to go due to my earlier mistake. The final 3 miles seem to take forever. Over distance, I'm demoralised and find it a struggle to keep running. I should have been done by now, but there's still no end in sight! Eventually though, after what seems like a lifetime, the van comes into view. Sweet, blessed relief and the chance for a brew and take my shoes off! As with my previous efforts on this route, I'm not going to try and hide the fact that it's a hard one. As I said at the start, the terrains hilly for this part of the country, the routes twisting with numerous turns and little paths. But, and most importantly, it's a great day out, with great views, varied terrain and it's a lot of fun. 5:33 for a touch under 33 miles then. Certainly not fast by any stretch of the imagination, even by my standards, but considering that's 60 running miles I've put into my legs this week, (more of which later) it's a time that I'm happy with, an most importantly, I've had fun doing it! As I mentioned briefly above, I've managed to get in some decent miles over the past week or so. If we count the 8 days between April 2nd (Good Friday) and Saturday 10th April I've managed to walk and run just over 120 miles and cycle another 66 miles. Sometimes I wonder why my legs hurt, maybe it's not that I'm getting old, just that I'm kicking the arse out of it! April 2nd - Hiking - 24 Miles - Home to Overnight Bivvy. April 3rd - Hiking - 28 Miles - Overnight Bivvy to Overnight Bivvy. April 4th - Hiking - 11 Miles - Overnight Bivvy to Home. April 5th - Run - 7.8 Miles (South Downs) April 6th - Cycle commute to work - 22 Miles. April 7th - Cycle to work 11 Miles, Run home 10 Miles. April 8th - Run to work 10 Miles, Cycle home 11 Miles. April 9th - Cycle commute to work -22 Miles. April 10th - Run Just shy of 32.9 miles. That works out as average of 15 miles walking or running per day for the 8 days, and I wonder why my legs are in bits! After Saturdays efforts I thought an easy day was called for on Sunday. If I was going to be at home I might as well make good use of the time though, so I headed up to the allotment after a leisurely breakfast. First job of the day was to get the roof netting back onto the fruit cage. It's been rolled away since the start of November to stop it getting damaged if it snowed. Being pretty sure that there's not much chance of snow now, I thought I'd take a chance (and the opportunity whilst I had the time) and get it back on. A couple of hours in the sun, unrolling the net and cable tying it back on and bugger me if just as I finished it didn't start snowing! I'll grant you it was only a few light flurries and the sun came back out about 2 minutes later, but I ask you, what are the chances of that! A couple of hours digging and a bit of pottering around chatting and sitting in the sun drinking brews, pretty much wrapped up the day, although I did get the grass cut at home for the first time this year when I popped home for lunch. Fairly productive for an easy day then and my legs are certainly thanking me for the break. Back in January I wasted a couple of hours making Bird Boxes. The plan at the time had been to put them all up at home, but when push came to shove there just wasn't space for all of them, so I took a couple up to the allotment.
The chief piss taker ("The Emma") told me when I made them that there was about as much chance of birds moving in as there was of it not snowing in April (see above). Imagine my joy then as I sat quietly on the allotment on Sunday morning watching a pair of Blue Tits making one of the boxes home. They spent the day back and forth, fetching and carrying nesting materials, keeping a good look out as they went in to the box, and peeking out a couple of times to check the coast was clear before coming back out again. Between them and the Robins flitting around calling to each other, the Blackbirds coming down searching for insects in the bark chippings and a pair of Magpies nest building in the higher branches of the hedge, there's quite a community going on up on the plot! With 4 days off that needed filling and only limited opportunities to get away, Easter 2021 could have been as much of a wash out as Easter 2020 was. However, with a bit of ingenuity and careful planning I've managed to have a real adventure over the past couple of days. With many of the lock down restrictions still in place, no pub's or cafe's open and still no organised running or cycling permitted, whatever I got up to was going to have to be alone, self-supported and self-sufficient. Pretty much a normal weekend for me then! I'd initially considered a few days away on the bike, but with the rules still officially preventing overnight stays and considering the distance that you can travel on a bike in 3 or 4 days (were talking hundreds of miles) I thought that wasn't quite in keeping with my law abiding self. A couple of days walking though, starting and finishing from home. Out of the way of other people, self-sufficient and alone, surely that's close enough to be allowed? Well, officially permitted or not, I wasn't going to waste the time off. So, after a bit of thinking, a bit of time studying the maps of the local area and a sort out of kit that's not seen the light of day for 6 plus months, I'd come up with a rough plan. Good Friday Walking kit packed Thursday night, I was up and raring to go well before some people go to bed on Friday morning. Breakfast done, brews supped, last minute kit fettling fettled and I was away by 07:30 on what was a dull and overcast morning, but with the promise of better to come. My planned route for the day involved heading West from home, following as many footpaths as possible in order to pick up the Test Way at Longparish, where I would turn North, marking the first leg of what would be a circular / square route around home. Slowly picking my way along the still deserted roads, feeling the weight of my pack on my shoulders for the first time in a while, I paused, not for the first time, to admire a row of trees in full blossom, the sound of Bee's, like me already up and about and working hard, clearly audible. Tree blossom is a sure sign that winters on the way out and better days are around the corner, it's such a precarious time to flower though, one sharp frost or gale and all that beauties destroyed in the blink of an eye. At the edge of town I picked up footpaths, familiar from a hundred evening runs, leading me through Oakley and onward, too pastures new. Moving off the familiar paths at Deane, it wasn't long before the stunning carving and fretwork on the fascia boards of the church lychgate at Ashe caught my eye. The hours spent by some long-forgotten master craftsman, carefully hand working the long Oak boards into symmetry and beauty, not for some cathedral, but a village church with a congregation numbering under 50. Craftsmanship admired for years by many, but now seldom noticed as we speed past on our busy way to wherever. I'd plenty of time to stand and stare today though and take the time to notice the small gargoyles holding the stone overhangs on the bell tower and the hand cleaved chestnut shingles on the roof too, before moving slowly on my way. Past duck ponds and through fields filled with young Lambs, I gradually wound my way through the Hampshire countryside. Slowly onward, pausing briefly to watch some young Muntjac Deer grazing peacefully in the fields a matter of meters away as I headed into Whitchurch, completely at ease once they had ascertained that I was no threat. The Churchyard at Whitchurch offered a bench in the sun among the Daffodils to take the weight from my shoulders and have a late lunch stop. Sitting in the early afternoon sun, I reflected on how many other travelers would have rested here on their own travels over the centuries. The church providing a constant point as the world evolved around it. Modes of travel, evolving from foot, through horse, to bicycle and onto cars, the churchyard and the shelter it provides a constant in all, until now where the car has made the need to rest irrelevant! Hunger sated, I pushed on towards Longparish and my date with the Test Way, not a care in the world and free with my own thoughts, just the steady plod of my feet on the soft ground as my companion, my only worry where to stop for the next brew. Life doesn't get much better than this, and as the miles ticked off I was in my element; Sun shining, beauty all around. I saw my first Butterfly’s for the year on this stretch, flitting easily on the gentle spring breeze. Where have they been all winter? It's hard to believe that some, the Painted Lady among them, migrate from southern Europe. When you see their delicate wings being blown haphazardly around in the wind it's a wonder they can fly at all, yet alone make those epic journeys. The tales they must have to tell of their travels! An Idyllic brew stop, in a secluded spot alongside the river test, seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up and I spent a peaceful hour, sat with a brew and my book, watching the world go by. That's the beauty of these types of adventures, there's nothing else to do apart from walk, watch the world go by and contemplate life. Simplicity in itself, something that’s often missing from modern life! As afternoon turned towards evening, so my direction of travel changed as I picked up the Test Way and turned onto the second, Northern leg of my journey. I'd walked the Test Way back in 2019 and had in mind a spot for the night that I'd used previously, just outside St Mary Bourne. As the day drew to a close though my memory seemed to be playing tricks with me, as nothing looked like I remembered it from my previous overnight stop, and with plenty of “Keep out” and “Private” signs on the ground either side of the path, my options looked limited. Forsaking my original plans, I pushed on a bit further than planned, and with 24, satisfying miles in my legs, settled on a quiet, out of the way spot on the outskirts of St Mary Bourne itself to get my head down for a few hours. Miles walked - 24 Saturday The wind had picked up massively during the night, waking me up on a few occasions as it whistled through the trees above my head, leading to a fitful night’s sleep. Oh well, if you’re not asleep you might as well be doing something useful and I was awake and packing up with the daybreak. With a warm brew inside me, thermals on, and a flask of porridge brewing for breakfast safely stowed away, I was on the road again just after 07:00. I knew from previous exploits that today was going to be a hard day, the first 13 miles are pretty much all up hill, climbing slowly (and not so slowly) from my overnight stop to the highest point in Hampshire at Pilot Hill. This was going to be followed by an exposed section along the high ground towards Kingsclere for the East bound leg of my walk and if the wind at low level was anything to go by, things could get interesting later on! Despite the overcast morning and chill in the air, the first couple of hours remained sheltered from the wind and I made good progress, getting 5 miles under my belt before stopping for breakfast and a brew. A mile-long stretch of farm track with millions of Daffodils in full bloom either side made for an epic sight and an ideal breakfast spot, spoiled only by the need for regular signs requesting people not to pick the flowers! Continuing the long slow climb through open countryside and small wooded areas, following the Test Way ever upwards was a real pleasure. Primroses, Blackthorn blossom, Tits and Finches, flitting from the hedgerows, maintaining their distance. Pheasants and Grouse calling from the fields either side and Red Kites circling easily overhead, maintaining a steady watch over their territory’s as I passed slowly on my way. A small heard of Deer off in the distance, alert to my presence, way before I sensed theirs, watching warily as I passed and the ever-present crunch of my boots on the ground as I marched steadily on. By lunchtime I’d reached the top, and, as predicted, the wind was screaming across the exposed hillside. I found shelter in the lee of a decaying tree for a well-earned brew and bite to eat. But, with the wind chill driving the temperatures down it was too cold to hang around for long and I was soon back on my way, heading steadily Eastwards along the ridge line I’d run 2 weeks ago, on my way back towards Kingsclere. With an eye on the water situation the afternoon slowly passed as I made my way along the high ground towards my destination for the night. I’d planned on pushing on towards the 20-mile mark and calling a halt for the day. Any night stop however, depended on finding water, a somewhat scarce commodity on the high chalk hills. I had a quick look around a few empty farm buildings for signs of a tap, looked in a few empty troughs and considered the options for dropping off the high ground for a resupply if the opportunity presented itself. All to no avail. The lack of water lead to a bit of a dilemma, the closest water source I knew of was at Hannington (a couple of miles the other side of Whitehill) and by this point still a good 8 or 9 miles away. That left me with 2 options; Stop as planned at the 20-mile mark and have a thirsty night with no morning brew. Or, push on to Hannington making it a 28-mile day! When there’s a choice to be made there’s only really one option, and that’s stop for a brew, think it through and then decide on a course of action. Decision made to push on, that’s what I did. With the mast at Whitehill guiding me towards my destination for the night I kept moving forward. As the afternoon turned slowly towards evening, so the wind dropped, and the sun started peeking out from behind the clouds bathing the surrounding countryside in its soft orange glow. A brief stop for Tea and a couple more miles saw me arrive at Hannington and the strategically positioned tap just as it started to get dark. Water replenished and a quiet spot found for my Bivvy I was soon tucked up, warm and snug in my sleeping bag watching a stream of Starlink satellites catching the sun, now well below the horizon, as they streamed overhead on their never-ending orbits of the earth. Miles walked – 28 Easter Sunday. With the clear skies the temperature had plummeted overnight, and I awoke with the dawn to a heavy covering of frost on my Bivvy bag and a thin layer of ice between the Bivvy and my sleeping bag. I’d stirred a few times in the night to move my knees and tuck my thermals in and felt a bit chilly (not enough to put any more clothes on though), but I hadn’t expected to wake up to that! It just goes to show that with the right kit you can get out and about at any time of year with no problems. With the sun slowly climbing like a giant red orb into the early morning sky and pushing the darkness away it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. As I packed up and made a brew with the dawn chorus in full swing and the frost glinting off the grass and bare trees, there was probably no where better to be in the world! After the big miles of Friday and Saturday, today would be an easy day. It was only 12 miles back home from here, most of which is downhill, so there was no rush to get going and with plenty of water now on hand it seemed rude not to have another brew and watch to sun rise from my vantage point. By the time I finally got going the sun was well and truly up and as predicted there wasn’t a cloud in the sky or breath of wind. A couple of hours of gentle plodding along and I found a nice little spot for a breakfast stop. Sat on a tree stump in the sun, brew on hand and breakfast on the go, all was right with the world, and I sat reflecting on previous adventures and those still to come. It’s the little moments like these that make all the day’s out in the rain, the cold fingers and toes and the mud so worthwhile. You’ve got to take the rough with the smooth but when the good bits come, boy oh boy, are they worth it! As the morning wore on and I got closer to home the day really warmed up and I was soon shedding layers like a man possessed. As the layers came off and I got closer to town, so the numbers of people steadily rose. Dog walkers, joggers, families out with their children, walking and on bikes, their days out just starting as my weekend adventure drew to a close.
Arriving back home just after lunch, as I sat in the sun with a well earned brew chatting to “The Emma” she asked if I’d had a good time. I thought for a moment of the 60 or so miles I’d covered over the previous 2 ½ days, all on foot, starting and finishing from home; 2 nights out under the stars, a howling gale, frost on my sleeping bag, butterfly’s, ladybirds, blossom, lambs, primroses, secluded river banks, wide open hillsides, woodlands, footpaths, birds, deer, brews with views, tired legs and to top it all off, that contented feeling you get at the end of a job well done. “Yeah, not bad” I said. “How about you”? Miles Walked - 12 |
Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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