Starting out at the Robin Hood pub at Buffler's Holt, through a very overgrown stile into a very overgrown verge and a field with thick dry rape over a metre high, the margin thick with goose grass and tall thistles leading into a ditch. I tried the bottom and top of the field but was turned back by the vegetation. I tried one set of tractor lines but the rape was impassable. Walking back down the hill I spotted more tractor lines which were slightly less overgrown and pushed my way through to the bottom of the field and a fence. I hoofed it over the fence and down the hill, stopping twice to get my bearings and work out where the hell I was going. The first mile of this walk took me twenty minutes and I was thoroughly pissed-off, although once I got into my stride I was smiling... For a moment. I'd forgtten to bring any water out with me! This was to prove part of my undoing later on.
After the difficult start, the walk over to Water Stratford was pleasing; hilly, along a stream populated with swooping swallows, across farmland, past a vocal cockerel to talk to a twitchy, friendly farmer who was very interested in my route. Briefly through Water Stratford and along my previously-walked route to Westbury past the perpetually-busy Fields Barn and downhill to the church. Another brief village encounter past the new development at the mill in Westbury then out into instant countryside.
Over the brook, onto the old railway track and west. Having opened the map out to write this entry I see that the track I followed is connected to the old railway track in Buckingham, which I know like the back of my hand. It wasn't visually obvious that the path doesn't follow the abandoned railway, and a cordial man jogged past me and up the track, so I followed and really enjoyed the mile walk along towards Brackley. After a bridge and at the water, I turned north for 1.5 miles past Turweston, then east through the aerodrome and back onto the road to join the path east.
This stretch of wood is beautiful. Almost the whole walk from Turweston to Wood Green is under cover and would be ideal for a hot sunny day where shade is essential around midday. It was under cloudy skies with drizzle that I really started to regret not having water with me. Puddles started to look appetising, tiny pools of water on leaves became possible opportunities to quench my thirst. I imagined that would be how someone stranded in a desert might feel, only somewhat less nagging and imperative. I decided during the woods that I'd get to Dadford and call for a ride home as I was starting to feel decidedly pokey and the idea that I still had six or seven miles to cover wasn't filling me with the usual excitement.
When I came to the end of the track out onto the road I was somewhat surprised. In my visualisation of how far I had to go I'd spectacularly failed to remember almost two miles of walking between Wood Green and Dadford.
I'd had it. I was resigned, thirsty, annoyed with myself for forgetting water and overwhelmed with how far I still had to go. I called for a cab and went home. I'm disappointed to abandon a big walk only two-thirds along, although I'd done five hilly miles the day before. However, I woke up the next morning with a raging cold; sniffles, sore throat, headache, the lot. On reflection, it's hardly surprising I wasn't up to the challenge and I'm giving myself a break because of that. I hope to do another 10-15 miles this week to keep myself in rhythm and try to get two good distances done next week, in training for a big one in September.
25 July 2010
North Marston, Quainton circular, 5 miles approx
With it being nineteen days since my last walk I'd been looking forward to this. My last visit to the hills around Quainton was glorious and I was excited to be getting up the hills.
My friend and I set off from a side road in North Marston, walking clockwise on a slightly shorter route this time to get a different view of the hills and put the exciting hills during the latter half of the walk. The first mile was unremarkable, then we passed a barn, crossed the road and came to our first ascent. Stomping to the top and turning round to appreciate the view was enjoyable - I love the panting, the tight chest and aching calves at the top of a hill, coupled with the huge view and enormous sky.
We carried on across the hill to our favourite tree ever, the ash with the outer shell. We both climbed it this time to have a look down into the hollow trunk and see the younger tree growing up out of the hollow. It was very satisfying in the tree and I'll be looking out for others to climb now that I'm starting to feel more lithe and more likely to bounce than splat.
Down the other side of the hill and into Quainton. What a pretty village. We stopped to take photos of some huge thistles populated by industrious bees, then shot uphill and along the ridge to enjoy our dinner in the shelter of the radio mast, with Buckinghamshire stretching out before us. I got to stroke a cow - properly scratch-scratch-stroke a cow - before heading off down the other side of the hill, to the earthworks marking a medieval village we so categorically failed to see last time. There's not much there - a few ditches and a couple of minor mounds - but I always get a deep sense of humanity stood in these spaces, of communal living, open fires, huts and children and animals. It's incredibly nostalgic every time I immerse myself in it and I definitely enjoy seeking out these simple remains.
Once done, our route moved east instead of following our previous path north, to cut a mile or so from the walk. Across flat, open fields, under some power lines and uphill to the road which lead down to the start point.
Another stunning walk with wonderful company. I will bring people here again.
My friend and I set off from a side road in North Marston, walking clockwise on a slightly shorter route this time to get a different view of the hills and put the exciting hills during the latter half of the walk. The first mile was unremarkable, then we passed a barn, crossed the road and came to our first ascent. Stomping to the top and turning round to appreciate the view was enjoyable - I love the panting, the tight chest and aching calves at the top of a hill, coupled with the huge view and enormous sky.
We carried on across the hill to our favourite tree ever, the ash with the outer shell. We both climbed it this time to have a look down into the hollow trunk and see the younger tree growing up out of the hollow. It was very satisfying in the tree and I'll be looking out for others to climb now that I'm starting to feel more lithe and more likely to bounce than splat.
Down the other side of the hill and into Quainton. What a pretty village. We stopped to take photos of some huge thistles populated by industrious bees, then shot uphill and along the ridge to enjoy our dinner in the shelter of the radio mast, with Buckinghamshire stretching out before us. I got to stroke a cow - properly scratch-scratch-stroke a cow - before heading off down the other side of the hill, to the earthworks marking a medieval village we so categorically failed to see last time. There's not much there - a few ditches and a couple of minor mounds - but I always get a deep sense of humanity stood in these spaces, of communal living, open fires, huts and children and animals. It's incredibly nostalgic every time I immerse myself in it and I definitely enjoy seeking out these simple remains.
Once done, our route moved east instead of following our previous path north, to cut a mile or so from the walk. Across flat, open fields, under some power lines and uphill to the road which lead down to the start point.
Another stunning walk with wonderful company. I will bring people here again.
08 July 2010
07 July 2010
Water Stratford, Westbury, aerodrome circuit, Wood Green, Dadford, Stowe Woods, Stowe, Akeley Wood, Akeley, Maids Moreton, Buckingham linear, 15.8 miles
After a week's relative rest - only 7.8 miles in the week instead of the 20-30 miles per week I'd been doing for the previous three weeks - my legs and mind were itching to get out so I found a linear route on the map and caught a taxi to Water Stratford. After tightening my boots and checking the GPS I set out across the fields.
Once again I'd sat in the office indecisive about whether I should go out or not, on the brink of saying "Ah, screw it!" and sitting on my backside for the evening. By the time I was half-way to Water Stratford in the car I was excited; by the end of the first field I was elated and beaming. There should never be any doubt as to whether it's a good idea to go for a walk.
Field turned to track turned to cut-grass bridleway. The track ran out in the direction I wanted to go so I diverted to the road and walked a couple of hundred metres to a right turn toward Fields Barn. Passing this industrious farm and some lovely little houses, I crossed a minor road and headed down then uphill to the church at Westbury, with its small tower and picturesque graves.
Westbury is a pretty village in parts. Low thatched eaves jut into the path next to the main road, the village hall and Reindeer pub seem welcoming and if it wasn't for a busy main road running past, it would be lovely. However, it was only 200m of my route so I crossed the road and traversed more corn fields past the grass dryer which offered a smell of moist, warm grass to drift on the wind.
After struggling with a couple of overgrown paths I came to a minor road and a sign for Westbury circular ride which pointed into some woods. It was here I decided to tag-on a small circuit to increase the length of the walk and I'm pleased I did/aching because of it. The extra 2.8 miles brought the total for this walk to 15.8 miles which is a new record, although my tendons are tight and the soles of my feet ache somewhat today. I had to push myself to complete the walk and I'm glad it ended when it did, although I think I probably could have gone another mile or two after a short rest. One thing to note about these recent longer walks is thay they've mostly been non-stop, or at least only five-minute breaks to check position or take the weight off briefly. I'm convinced this is the reason for my dramatic weight loss, the constant relentless exercise not giving my body a chance to wind down and back up again between bouts of activity. I don't know if this is good for me or not but I feel fantastic while I'm doing it and afterwards, I sleep very well and it seems to balance my appetite, which is a bonus.
I recognised the spot on the road as the starting point for a walk with my parents, which I appear to have missed from my blog. The woods were peaceful and transformed into an enclosed path that continued for a kilometre and opened up to a view of an aerodrome I'd categorically failed to spot on the map! I was looking only for a suitable circuit to add to my walk and didn't even notice the bloody big airstrip it went through! There's a lesson here.
The path crosses the edge of the aerodrome and heads about 200m past some industrial units, then cuts back across a field toward the hangars. Light aircraft were parked outside and cars and vans were regularly on the move. A yellow stunt plane roared into the sky and scattered birds. I passed the buildings and crossed some tarmac to the track which skirted the edge of the airfield. I watched the stunt plane do tumbles and twists way up in the sky then come down to land and taxi to the hangars, before turning off and heading back along the bridleway to the road and my starting point.
I followed the bridleway toward Wood Green, which wound up and down through lovely woods for some distance then bisected Evershaw and New Copses to the road. The tarmac led to Wood Green and I took a five-minute break to rearrange my map and have a banana. I decided to head to Stowe Woods and return through Akeley Wood instead of my original intention to head straight through Stowe and Chackmore to get home. Fifty metres past the houses and my only real frustration of the walk, where a choice of paths should have been available but only the southern path could be seen. This turned to my advantage as the path was pretty and it meant I had an opportunity to pass the playground in Dadford where I used to play as a child, almost thirty years ago. It feels odd putting local memories into context by referring to them as three decades ago; I still don't feel old but I think references like this will start the process!
Along High Street and up the hill to the footpath, through a large field of tall reeds I've seen before but not in such numbers. The reeds eventually opened out into a big, sweeping, hilly field and after a few hundred metres I began to feel like I'd missed a path and was lost. I stood and got a grid reference - I was about 200m off so I followed the verge of a corn field, spotting from afar the path cutting through the crop. Instead of trying to take up the path I hopped a barbed-wire fence at a convenient point and followed the hedge to a gate and to the entrance to Stowe Woods.
The path headed down and east past two horses - the grey was certain I had an apple in my bag and wouldn't let me save half for the other horse - uphill and a wave from a rider, then south-south-east along an apparently perfectly straight path which wound its way along and through the outskirts of the Stowe grounds. I passed a lady with three charismatic border-collies and a jack russel before reaching the track which took me to the road to Akeley Wood.
At this point I was starting to regret taking the longer route home. My legs and the soles of my feet were starting to ache and my right knee was telling me it was too much, but I pushed on through the 'private' road and along the tarmac into Akeley. As I approached my intended rest spot the clouds broke and made my ten-minute break most enjoyable in the late evening sunshine. I notice my GPS had run out of battery but estimated my distance by this point at 14 miles, which is a great distance to do before any real break to rest my feet.
The final stomp home along regular paths between Akeley and Maids Moreton was considerably eased by the break; I think if I'd have carried on without stopping I'd be in considerable pain today. I'm really pleased with the progress I've made over the past month or two, as to have attempted this distance three months ago would probably have broken me. I'm aiming for twenty miles non-stop - something daughter challenged me to last year. It's been at the back of my mind through all these miles across the local area and I'll be very pleased with myself when I can do twenty miles in a day. The non-stop part is my own personal goal which I think is totally achieveable. The next target is to do fifteen to twenty miles on two consecutive days, then three, then more, in an aim to walk to the coast at Canvey Island later in the year.
Once again I'd sat in the office indecisive about whether I should go out or not, on the brink of saying "Ah, screw it!" and sitting on my backside for the evening. By the time I was half-way to Water Stratford in the car I was excited; by the end of the first field I was elated and beaming. There should never be any doubt as to whether it's a good idea to go for a walk.
Field turned to track turned to cut-grass bridleway. The track ran out in the direction I wanted to go so I diverted to the road and walked a couple of hundred metres to a right turn toward Fields Barn. Passing this industrious farm and some lovely little houses, I crossed a minor road and headed down then uphill to the church at Westbury, with its small tower and picturesque graves.
Westbury is a pretty village in parts. Low thatched eaves jut into the path next to the main road, the village hall and Reindeer pub seem welcoming and if it wasn't for a busy main road running past, it would be lovely. However, it was only 200m of my route so I crossed the road and traversed more corn fields past the grass dryer which offered a smell of moist, warm grass to drift on the wind.
After struggling with a couple of overgrown paths I came to a minor road and a sign for Westbury circular ride which pointed into some woods. It was here I decided to tag-on a small circuit to increase the length of the walk and I'm pleased I did/aching because of it. The extra 2.8 miles brought the total for this walk to 15.8 miles which is a new record, although my tendons are tight and the soles of my feet ache somewhat today. I had to push myself to complete the walk and I'm glad it ended when it did, although I think I probably could have gone another mile or two after a short rest. One thing to note about these recent longer walks is thay they've mostly been non-stop, or at least only five-minute breaks to check position or take the weight off briefly. I'm convinced this is the reason for my dramatic weight loss, the constant relentless exercise not giving my body a chance to wind down and back up again between bouts of activity. I don't know if this is good for me or not but I feel fantastic while I'm doing it and afterwards, I sleep very well and it seems to balance my appetite, which is a bonus.
I recognised the spot on the road as the starting point for a walk with my parents, which I appear to have missed from my blog. The woods were peaceful and transformed into an enclosed path that continued for a kilometre and opened up to a view of an aerodrome I'd categorically failed to spot on the map! I was looking only for a suitable circuit to add to my walk and didn't even notice the bloody big airstrip it went through! There's a lesson here.
The path crosses the edge of the aerodrome and heads about 200m past some industrial units, then cuts back across a field toward the hangars. Light aircraft were parked outside and cars and vans were regularly on the move. A yellow stunt plane roared into the sky and scattered birds. I passed the buildings and crossed some tarmac to the track which skirted the edge of the airfield. I watched the stunt plane do tumbles and twists way up in the sky then come down to land and taxi to the hangars, before turning off and heading back along the bridleway to the road and my starting point.
I followed the bridleway toward Wood Green, which wound up and down through lovely woods for some distance then bisected Evershaw and New Copses to the road. The tarmac led to Wood Green and I took a five-minute break to rearrange my map and have a banana. I decided to head to Stowe Woods and return through Akeley Wood instead of my original intention to head straight through Stowe and Chackmore to get home. Fifty metres past the houses and my only real frustration of the walk, where a choice of paths should have been available but only the southern path could be seen. This turned to my advantage as the path was pretty and it meant I had an opportunity to pass the playground in Dadford where I used to play as a child, almost thirty years ago. It feels odd putting local memories into context by referring to them as three decades ago; I still don't feel old but I think references like this will start the process!
Along High Street and up the hill to the footpath, through a large field of tall reeds I've seen before but not in such numbers. The reeds eventually opened out into a big, sweeping, hilly field and after a few hundred metres I began to feel like I'd missed a path and was lost. I stood and got a grid reference - I was about 200m off so I followed the verge of a corn field, spotting from afar the path cutting through the crop. Instead of trying to take up the path I hopped a barbed-wire fence at a convenient point and followed the hedge to a gate and to the entrance to Stowe Woods.
The path headed down and east past two horses - the grey was certain I had an apple in my bag and wouldn't let me save half for the other horse - uphill and a wave from a rider, then south-south-east along an apparently perfectly straight path which wound its way along and through the outskirts of the Stowe grounds. I passed a lady with three charismatic border-collies and a jack russel before reaching the track which took me to the road to Akeley Wood.
At this point I was starting to regret taking the longer route home. My legs and the soles of my feet were starting to ache and my right knee was telling me it was too much, but I pushed on through the 'private' road and along the tarmac into Akeley. As I approached my intended rest spot the clouds broke and made my ten-minute break most enjoyable in the late evening sunshine. I notice my GPS had run out of battery but estimated my distance by this point at 14 miles, which is a great distance to do before any real break to rest my feet.
The final stomp home along regular paths between Akeley and Maids Moreton was considerably eased by the break; I think if I'd have carried on without stopping I'd be in considerable pain today. I'm really pleased with the progress I've made over the past month or two, as to have attempted this distance three months ago would probably have broken me. I'm aiming for twenty miles non-stop - something daughter challenged me to last year. It's been at the back of my mind through all these miles across the local area and I'll be very pleased with myself when I can do twenty miles in a day. The non-stop part is my own personal goal which I think is totally achieveable. The next target is to do fifteen to twenty miles on two consecutive days, then three, then more, in an aim to walk to the coast at Canvey Island later in the year.
01 July 2010
Buckingham, Maids Moreton, Foscote, Leckhampstead, Akeley circular, 7.8 miles
The final walk with the first client for Walking for Wellbeing, this was the reverse of a walk I did at the end of May, and the walk which turned daughter off walking because it was closer to eight miles than the promised four-or-five.
We headed up Page Hill at a good pace to get our legs warmed-up, then through Maids Moreton rec and across the fields to the oak on the bend. Across more fields toward Foscote Manor where I spotted a Lesser Stag Beetle crossing the road – the first time I've ever seen one and an impressive little beast it was.
We stopped for a smoke on the tree stump where the grass had been recently cut and bailed for silage. The sun was particularly warm at this point although it got cooler as the breeze picked up and the evening wore on. We headed across lovely quiet fields towards Leckhampstead and past the point where I met Mrs Pheasant a few weeks ago then down the hill to the ford.
The client had asked if we could find somewhere to paddle and the spot where I stopped for a recharge, under the pylons next to the stream, seemed like a perfect place. When we arrived it was overgrown with thick green weed, making it a much less-attractive prospect so we stopped for a break and a chat and continued on. I knew there was another chance for a paddle past the farm and when we arrived it was perfect. We kicked off our boots and socks and took to the cool, refreshing water. We spotted Water Forget-me-nots with their blue and yellow flowers, and Brooklime with their similar purple-to-yellow petals. After a paddle we stopped for dinner and more conversation then carried on to Akeley.
As we got into the village it was announced that my companion's grandparents were buried in the graveyard so we paid them a visit, wandering around the graves until we found their headstone. I cut three seed heads from a rose bush that was growing on their grave so she could plant them in her garden and after a moment's contemplation we walked on. We charged down the long hill and up the other side and into Maids Moreton to complete the walk.
This was lovely. Not only is it a nice and varied route with lots to see and some good variety in terrain but there was good company and nice outcomes to our conversations.
We headed up Page Hill at a good pace to get our legs warmed-up, then through Maids Moreton rec and across the fields to the oak on the bend. Across more fields toward Foscote Manor where I spotted a Lesser Stag Beetle crossing the road – the first time I've ever seen one and an impressive little beast it was.
We stopped for a smoke on the tree stump where the grass had been recently cut and bailed for silage. The sun was particularly warm at this point although it got cooler as the breeze picked up and the evening wore on. We headed across lovely quiet fields towards Leckhampstead and past the point where I met Mrs Pheasant a few weeks ago then down the hill to the ford.
The client had asked if we could find somewhere to paddle and the spot where I stopped for a recharge, under the pylons next to the stream, seemed like a perfect place. When we arrived it was overgrown with thick green weed, making it a much less-attractive prospect so we stopped for a break and a chat and continued on. I knew there was another chance for a paddle past the farm and when we arrived it was perfect. We kicked off our boots and socks and took to the cool, refreshing water. We spotted Water Forget-me-nots with their blue and yellow flowers, and Brooklime with their similar purple-to-yellow petals. After a paddle we stopped for dinner and more conversation then carried on to Akeley.
As we got into the village it was announced that my companion's grandparents were buried in the graveyard so we paid them a visit, wandering around the graves until we found their headstone. I cut three seed heads from a rose bush that was growing on their grave so she could plant them in her garden and after a moment's contemplation we walked on. We charged down the long hill and up the other side and into Maids Moreton to complete the walk.
This was lovely. Not only is it a nice and varied route with lots to see and some good variety in terrain but there was good company and nice outcomes to our conversations.
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