Brilliant early-summer sunshine gave reason to get out and enjoy new paths and challenging distances today. A cab took me to the old Banbury road in Finmere and I started out over the main road past a landfill I never knew was there. It appears to use the holes left by continuing quarry works, digging machinery clanging and clattering over the fence. New bridleway markers pointed along a field-side and past a farm building onto an established track which went in a different direction to that on the map. After wandering past yet more machinery - what power shredding logs into sawdust! - I took a punt on a turn in the right direction near some buildings. Somewhat disoriented I was grateful for the Landrover that came bouncing down the track and told me I was going the wrong way. Pointed to the right track I got into my stride through musical woods, then out into the open for some beautiful field-margin walking.
The way joined a track and a turn east put the afternoon sun on my back as I passed a wonderful lake. A buzzard shot out of a tree not ten metres distant, its huge wings propelling it over the water to be harried and hassled away by a multitude of rooks. This two-kilometre gravel track past lake, medieval village, farm and woods seemed never-ending but once I rounded the trees a field of asparagus led the way to the main road. It's not often you get to stand next to huge lorries doing 50mph and that makes the hundred-metre stretch of A4421 pretty scary.
Across some pretty meadows and over a bridged ford into a rape field. It started clear and gradually became overgrown not only with fruiting rape but bloody huge thistles. Fortunately the spines couldn't penetrate my jeans but it was hard going and, combined with the heat, I was sweating and puffing by the time I got to Chetwode.
I continued past some lovely houses and a sign warning "HONEY BEES" near a buzzing throng on the wall of a barn, an industrious sight to behold. Past the large manor of Chetwode and a hearty "Hello!" from a resident of Courtfield Farm, the fields dipped down then rose to Preston Bissett. I've always had a soft spot for this quaint village although my route didn't allow me to see much more than thirty metres of road and a confused-looking old man whose stares I deflected with a "Good evening!" and a wave of my handerchief. A kind gardener helped me choose from three paths to take across the rolling playing field, the only cricket pitch I've seen dotted with sheep and associated droppings.
Long grass led the way to the road, severely overgrown hedgerows making tough work of the crossing on both sides. The path then followed four fields all the way up to the church at Hillesden where it was time to rest my feet and replace some salt with a packet of McCoys.
The Cross Bucks Way heads past Hillesden House here, a mile-long stretch of perfectly straight track where I seemed to estimate how far to the end every two minutes. I took a good pace along here trying to wake my legs up and keep my average speed healthy, and quickly came to the end of the track and towards Kingsbridge and more familiar paths.
I followed the Padbury Brook for a mile, up to the road for a hundred metres then northwest to Lenborough and across the industrial estate to the Esso on Buckingham ring road. I'd been considering saving my legs and catching a cab from the garage to relieve my feet of the extra mile home, and I'm glad I did. Thirteen miles - if you'll excuse the pun, another great milestone. Cracking weather, billions of bugs, clear air and excellent countryside made this a great if tiring walk.
