Ramblings of a Rambling Man

Birthays, Severns and Rightwards Distractions

2010-09-29T15:15:00.000+01:00

Day 27 – Worcester to Stourport

Today was a good day for many reasons!

Not least of which is that today is my 24th birthday. Hurrah for me! Besides being another year older and wiser (well older anyway!) I’ve also had a cracking day on the trail and I’m sitting in my tent right now another day closer to that distant finish line up North.

After a lovely night in a fancy hotel last night (repeated nights camping on a Thermarest really make you appreciate a real bed!) and a delicious hearty breakfast this morning I had expected that my folks would say their farewells and head off back home. But today is my birthday and so not only did I leave this morning with my dad once again in tow but also with promises of a nice pub dinner somewhere tonight after we rendezvous with my mum and my Nan at my campsite in Stourport.

Of course, even the very best of hiking companions are going to struggle to make a dreadful walk any more than bearable, but happily today the route was both pleasantly varied and delightfully stress free. After hacking my way through the shrubberies of the last few days, today has definitely been something a welcome relief.

Credit must go to the Severn Way, whose winding course we have been following all day. Granted I only picked up this lovely river-side trail yesterday, but I have to say that the walking along it thus far has been great. It’s brilliant to finally be on a trail that genuinely seems to want you to walk it and credit must go to whichever local group does a great job keeping the paths clear and well way marked.

I’m a big fan of river walking as it’s a sure fire way of spotting a bit of wildlife as you tick off the miles, (even if it’s only the occasional curious duck) and watching the hustle and bustle of nature going about it’s business is a great distraction from weary feet! It also makes navigation a doddle, as was the case today, just keep the river on the left (or right) and put one foot in front of the other until you get where you’re going.

The eagle eyed amongst you may have spotted that I described today’s walk as ‘pleasantly varied’ and so it was, although I admit it sounds largely river based thus far. It’s true, that to the left of us the river Severn dominated the view all day but the right was another case entirely. Worthy distractions rightwards included (in no particular order):

- Worcester (admittedly somewhat viewable to the left too, but you get the point)
- A working quarry (rather boldly the Severn Way cuts right through the middle rather than skirting around it)
- A vast and rather intricate horse jumping course (sadly sans horses)
- A pub with a beer garden dominated by roving gangs of turkeys and peacocks (odd, just odd)
- A slightly decrepit and rather creepy looking funfair (Scooby doo and the gang would have been right at home)

Bit of an odd mix all told, but combined with the view to the left and a spot of chat with my dad it served to keep my mind off my feet and my legs for the whole day, which is all you can ask really. When we rounded the final bend and strolled into camp I was surprised to find my tent assembled and waiting for me, it turns out my mum and Nan had got there a bit early and rather than going for a nice cuppa they had set to work putting my camp together for me. Bless ‘em!

A lovely pub meal later and we finally parted ways after what has been a great little birthday. The parting is only temporary though, I’m only a few days away from home now and I must say that I’m really looking forward to a couple of days to recover and reorganise before I resume the push North. If every day is a pleasant and trouble free as today, I’ll be there in no time at all.

Day 26 - Classics, Treats and an Angry Bovine

2009-07-02T12:22:00.007+01:00

Tewkesbury to Worcester - 15/06/09

The one downside to a tent as a form of temporary accommodation, is that in terms of sound proofing it is somewhat lacking. Normally this isn't too much of a problem as my ear plugs (probably one of the cheapest and yet most essential purchases of my entire journey thus far) do a sterling job of blocking out the sounds of the countryside (and the sound of my alarm, but that’s another matter entirely) and I'm usually so worn out from walking that I'm asleep in moments. Last night however was slightly different, a combination of a short day and a monumental racket from the wedding party being held mere yards from my fabric shelter meant that I didn't sleep a wink until the wee hours of the morning. I did however get to relive the school discos of my youth by being bombarded with classics such as 'The Time Warp', 'The Twist' and 'The Birdy Song' all at brain meltingly loud volume. Peaceful it was not, but on the plus side I had another nice short day today and even better I have a nice swanky hotel in which to relax this evening.

The reason for the short day and opulent accommodation are one and the same, tomorrow is my 24th birthday and to celebrate my folks have come down to visit and treat me to a night in plush surroundings. Hurrah! This meant that I had the rather odd situation (well for me anyway) of having a fixed finish time for today’s hike. Usually I just set off at some point once I've packed away my lodgings and get to my destination whenever I get there. Today however as a pre-birthday treat I decided I'd have a nice short day and so arranged for a pick up at 2:30 regardless of where I might be (well presuming I'm not in the middle of a field somewhere).

Today I took my first steps along the Severn Way, a trail which as the name suggests follows the winding course of the river Severn. Always a bit apprehensive when starting on a new trail, as my experiences in Cornwall and Devon have left me a tad sceptical about the walkability (hurrah for made up words!) of footpaths in this part of the country. It turns out that I had nothing to fear. Besides a small issue with a broken step on the very first stile (which ended up requiring something of a vault to clear) and a couple of short sections of rampant undergrowth, the stroll along the river turned out to be a real pleasure. One small hiccup in this, which had nothing to do with the Severn Way itself, was caused by one intractable bull that thought it would be amusing to park itself in front of the only exit to a field. As I approached it began to snort, stamp and generally look rather unhappy which would generally be enough to have me seriously reconsidering my choice of route. Sadly in this instance there really was no other choice but to gingerly sneak my way past, whilst preparing myself to leap over the hedge if it took so much as a single step in my direction. Obviously, given that I'm writing this now I clearly survived unscathed, but it's not an experience I shall relish repeating.

After my encounter with the local wildlife, it was really little more than a matter of getting to the nearest lane and tromping along until my designated pickup time. Helpfully this coincided nicely with my arrival at a little village which makes remembering where to begin again tomorrow slightly easier. But that’s a problem for tomorrow, for now I'm going to make the most of my luxurious surroundings and go soak my walk weary legs in the jacuzzi. Hurrah!

Day 25 - Sloth, Stares and a Short Stroll

2009-07-02T12:03:00.004+01:00

Cheltenham to Tewkesbury - 14/06/09

To make up for my unscheduled early departure yesterday, this morning I seized the (somewhat rare) opportunity to lay in until lunchtime. It's the first proper lie-in I've had for quite some time and certainly the first I've had on a walking day. I've been able to get away with the wanton bout of laziness however as my walk today from Cheltenham to the picturesque town of Tewkesbury was little more than an afternoons stroll. Nevertheless despite the low mileage I decided to play it safe and stick to the lanes for the day as the thoughts of yesterday's foliage filled footpaths were still fresh in my mind.

It's rather tricky to think of something to write about an afternoon trundling along the lanes, but one thing that I have noticed today is the stares of the drivers. If the motorists in this part of the world are anything to go by then walkers must be a rare species indeed. I realise that dressed as I am in my full hiking regalia I do sort of stand out from the crowd, but it doesn't make it any less unnerving when the occupants of every passing vehicle are treating you like some sort of mobile exhibit. I suppose it's another reason (if one was needed) for avoiding the roads where possible and it was with this thought in mind that I decided to take a shortcut across some fields on the outskirts of Tewkesbury. This decision then proceeded to bite me right in the ass when I hoofed across said field to find that there was no way out save the way that I came in. It was clear that once upon a time there had indeed been a stile but at some point it must have been damaged and the owner of this particular field had decided that the best way to repair it was with lashings of barbed wire. Helpful it was not.

I really can't wait to get up into the peak district where the sight of a backpack is more the norm than the exception. That's not to say that I'm not enjoying my time in Southern England (the Cotswold Way is just one of the highlights of the last few weeks), but I'm getting a little tired of of feeling quite so out of place all of the time.

Day 24 - Evictions, Disturbances and an Absence of Manners

2009-06-26T12:13:00.009+01:00

Painswick to Cheltenham - 13/06/09

Didn't really get the best of starts today to be completely honest. After confirming with my B&B hosts over breakfast that checkout would be at 10:30 I found myself unceremoniously expelled from my room at 10:05. To make matters worse I was right in the middle of packing my pack for the day and my pleas for another 5-10mins to get everything straightened out fell on deaf ears. My gracious 'hosts' didn't even have the decency to wish me well on my journey but instead retreated back to their TV in the lounge and left me to see myself and my armful of possessions out. Still it gave me the chance to experience completing my packing from the comfort of a park bench in true hobo style. Now all I need is a knotted hanky on a stick.

Naturally this spontaneous bout of rudeness didn't put me in the best of moods for the remainder of the day, but thankfully the now much flatter Cotswold Way did go someway towards soothing my ruffled feathers. Alas, this afternoon saw me bid a final farewell to the Way and after bidding it a fond farewell (and a promise to re-walk it in full some day) I joined the somewhat less fantastic Gloucestershire Way. Maybe the well walked and well maintained footpaths of the Cotwolds have spoiled me, but this afternoons foray on the Gloucestershire Way was a real pain. Every trail was choked with clinging vegetation and naturally most of this turned out to be of the stinging variety.

Now, after nearly four weeks on the road I've understandably become rather adept at spotting a stile lurking amongst the undergrowth. Credit then must be given to the Gloucestershire Way for managing to conceal one so completely that I passed within 5 yards of it (several times) without ever becoming aware of it's existence. After vainly searching up and down half a mile of hedgerow for some considerable time (and debating the possibilities of successfully vaulting a 5 foot hedge) I did finally manage locate the devious little thing. I then set about my usual tactic of using improvised trekking pole machetes to clear myself a path through the stinging shrubberies so I could finally be on my way once again. In my mind, this not only prevents me from my legs being stung to buggery, but also provides something of a public service to any poor hikers following in my wake (unlikely in this case I reckon). Apparently the farmer who interrupted my pruning session would beg to differ. I was mid hack when he popped his head over the hedge and asked if I would mind keeping the noise down. Two things baffled me about this statement. Firstly my trekking pole chopping was hardly what you would call noisy in the first place and secondly, I was surrounded on all sides by open farmland so who exactly was I disturbing? I managed to refrain from mentioning that maybe if he maintained the footpath a little then ramblers such as myself would no longer have to disturb his empty fields. Ah well, here's hoping for a better day tomorrow.

Day 23 -

2009-06-26T12:12:00.003+01:00

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Day 22 - Lords, Ladies and a Weary Walker

2009-06-25T20:24:00.007+01:00

Tormarton to North Nibley - 11/06/08

Having said only yesterday that I shall be sticking to official camp sites from now on, tonight I am once again in the garden of a B&B. Unlike yesterday however my accommodation here in North Nibley (oddly I don’t recall seeing a South Nibley or even an East or West for that matter) would be difficult to miss for all but the most unobservant rambler. I find myself this evening pitched in the gardens of a grand 3-storey country manor and whilst the owner really couldn’t be nicer, my little tent feels somewhat at odds with the opulent surroundings. In fact the whole town seems to have an air of wealth about it, which is not something I was anticipating. I was surprised to find that the local pub that I sauntered into in my usual state of post-walk dishevelledness (yes I agree, that’s probably not a real word) was serving up top quality nouveau cuisine. Granted my minted lamb cutlets in red wine jus were delicious but after a day on the road I would have really preferred quantity of quality tonight.

Its not that the walk has been particularly long today (14-15 miles, sort of average really) but its been pretty warm again and the Cotswold Way has led me a merry dance up and down the hills all day. Nevertheless, I’m quite enjoying the Cotswold Way thus far and I’m even willing to forgive its somewhat eccentric course as long as that course continues to be a clear and trouble free as it has so far. I can understand the reasons behind its meandering journey North, this is certainly an area with a lot of history and the Way does its best to take it all in. There really is only so many forts, monuments, statues, churches, etc that one man can take in a single day however so I’ll admit to once again taking to the roads for an hour or two in order to cut a bit of a corner. I do feel a little disappointed to be missing these occasional stretches but I guess from a slightly mercenary point of view, my goal is to get to John O’ Groats and so any path that doesn’t head Northwards (however excellent) has to be considered expendable. Besides it gives me a good reason to come back and walk the Way in totality sometime in the future, preferably without the giant backpack though.

As to the bits that I did actually walk today, they were once again very pleasant, with the possible exception of the climb out of Wotton Under Edge which it has to be said was a complete killer. There does seem to be an annoying tendency for the hardest physical challenge of the day to occur within the last hour or so of the walk. Maybe it just seems more difficult because of the several hours of hiking that proceed it, or perhaps the chap who wrote my guide book is a touch on the sadistic side (I think this has already been firmly established with the Tiverton to Taunton fiasco). Either way, I suppose it makes me appreciate it all the more when I finally get to put my feet up at the end of the day and that feeling alone is almost worth the extra effort.

Endings, Musings and Thanks to All

2008-09-16T19:27:00.014+01:00

Hey Folks,

As you've probably guessed from the title of this post and from the rather dashing photo of yours truly above, I have at long last completed my epic trek across the country! To be more precise, I actually finished my epic trek across the country back on the 30th of August at around 4:30pm some 98 days and 1100 miles after leaving Land's End.

Despite having officially hung up my boots about two weeks ago, the fact that I've actually finished still hasn't really hit home. I'm not sure at what point the knowledge that I've managed to walk the entire length of the country will dawn on me, but at the moment I'm still convinced that I'm merely taking a few days off and that I'll be back on the trail any day now. There's something very pure about focusing all your efforts getting from point A to point B and the therapeutic effect of doing this day after day should not be ignored by those yearning to escape the rat race of modern life. That said, I am quite glad that the challenge has been completed but I know I shall nonetheless miss the simple life of the rambler.

I would like to take a moment to thank any and all who have taken the time to read my blog, leave comments and generally show their support for my challenge. That support has made a big difference, especially back in my planning days when the expertise of the LEJOGing community proved invaluable on more than one occasion. Also, to all those who were kind enough to make a donation to Katharine House Hospice on my behalf, the total amount raised so far is in excess of £2500 and I've still got a few more donations to collect. This is absolutely fantastic, and I want to thank each and every one of you on the Hospice's behalf. Your money will make a big difference.

Apologies again that I was not able to keep up the day by day posting that I had naively planned for way back in May but as I said in my previous post on that topic it simply became too much for me to handle at the time and in the end getting the walk done was my top priority. Now that I'm back and getting back towards some semblance of normality (these last two weeks have been unbelievably busy) I shall finally start the process of writing up my daily notes and sticking them up here with the odd photo or two. Obviously some of the suspense will have been lost as you're now aware that I made it safe and sound, but for the sake of completeness and for my own satisfaction I shall be continuing to write my diary anyway although it may take me quite some time to finish the whole thing.

Anywho, thanks again to all of you out there in blog land. I couldn't have done it without you!

Chris

Still here, still going and getting closer!!

2008-07-20T20:56:00.008+01:00

Greetings to all of you in blog land. Apologies that its been so long since the last update. In fact it has been so long that I've no idea what the most recent entry actually is (my Dad has been updating the blog from notes I've been sending through). I'm fairly certain it was from before I got to Stafford.

Rest assured however that I have not been putting my feet up for the last month or so, but I am in fact still trundling quite nicely up the country. Granted from my lack of posting lately you could hardly be blamed for thinking otherwise.

(Dad's note: As of today, 20th July, Chris is on day 59 of his epic trip and is well over half way. He is currently in Bellingham just South of the Scottish border and is still on target to finish the walk by 31st August.)

I'm going to be honest, in term of blogs I'm now so far behind that it seems unlikely that I will be able to catch myself up while I'm still on the trail. The problem is that after a long days walking, I usually reach my campsite around 4.30 to 5.00pm. I then spend the next hour or so setting up camp and trying to make myself more presentable by visiting the shower block. Feeling slightly more human, its time to do something about my raging appetite. The best fix for this little problem seems to be a visit to the nearest pub for an hour or so where I proceed to stuff my face with delicious (for most of the time) pub fayre.

By the time I return to my little canvas home (usually slightly less sober than when I left), it's invariably past 8.00pm and all I feel like doing is lying back, stretching my weary legs and listening to my iPod before getting some shut-eye, so that I can repeat the whole process again on the next day.

It becomes difficult finding time to write a short essay about my experiences on the trail that day. I've tried writing shorter entries; I've tried combining multiple days into a single blog entry but neither method really seems to work.

Instead, what I've decided to do is to continue to make my notes about the day but write them up properly and in full, once I have completed my journey at the end of August. It's not an ideal situation I know, but my concentration is fully engaged at the moment with keeping me moving North. That said, I've got a few days off in Edinburgh in just over a weeks time, so if I can find an internet cafe I'll try to post a little update.

Rest assured however that I am plodding purposefully on and seem to have found my rhythm (at long last). For now though, this is Chris Berry signing off until August 31st, after which I will update you with all of the gory details!!!. If you are in the vicinity of John o Groats on that day, maybe I'll see you there.

Day 21 - Trails, interrogations and a missing destination

2008-07-07T21:01:00.005+01:00

Bath to Tormarton - 10/6/08

Today saw a significant milestone in my journey through the country. Up until now the majority of my days have been made up of roads, canals, rights of way and the occasional minor trail. BUT...today saw me join the first of the major national trails, the Cotswold Way, which I will be following for several days. Being a major national trail, the Cotswold Way is excellently waymarked (I could probably have managed without the maps today) and well walked by other intrepid hikers. This means that my experiences of hacking a path through the undergrowth should be behind me (for the time being at least) as the passage of hundreds of pairs of booted feet has already done the job.

Inevitably, the route had one last parting gift before I picked up the Way into Bath. When checking the map the morning before I noticed an old road that would take me directly from the campsite to the outskirts of Bath. I really should know better by now, but I decided to utilise this shortcut and then swiftly regretted it when it turned into a nettly, brambly nightmare after the first mile. I seem to have a talent for picking these seldom used (for seldom read never) routes, which annoyingly have a habit of turning shortcuts into exhausting slogs.

Still, when I finally did reach the start of the Cotswold Way (not the actual start, but the start as far as I was concerned), it made me appreciate the wide open, easy trail even more. Joining a national trail also had other effects. Today was the first day since leaving Lands End, well over 200 miles ago, that I've encountered other hikers. Weirdly, one of the first chaps I bumped into happened to be chair of the local long distance walking club. While he has never done a full end to end, he has done most of the national trails and he seemed to approve of my selection. Having passed my interrogation, I continued to wind my way gradually Northwards.

That is the one problem with the Cotswold Way; it appears to have a real problem going in straight lines and tends to opt for an extra few miles of winding in order to bypass a 50 yard stretch of road. It's something I remember reading about in Mark Moxon's fine publication and now that I'm here, I do see his point. Having spent most of the last 3 weeks walking along roads, I've got no problem with using them in order to cut off some of these redundant twisting sections. That's not to say that I will be abandoning the Way entirely (after all, it is easier on the feet and blessed with some terrific views), but if it starts to veer wildly off course and I can see no major benefit to it, I'm going to look for an alternative.

That quibble aside, the walk today has been exceedingly pleasant although the heat was a tad overpowering again. I never thought I'd say this, but I would actually welcome a spell of cooler weather. Lugging my pack up and down hills tends to warm me up plenty on its own. Nevertheless, everything was going pretty smoothly, right up until I reached Tormarton (my destination for the day), when I realised that I didn't actually know where the campsite was. Actually, campsite is a bit misleading. I'm staying at a B&B that has given me permission to camp in their garden due to a chronic shortage of campsites along this part of the Way.

After a call to HQ (my folks) I had a street name and a grid reference, both of which I located but still to no avail. Every B&B I've ever stayed in has some sort of sign outside, proclaiming it as such and my downfall in this case was that this B&B had absolutely no outward indication of its B&B nature. Assuming it to be just another house in a street full of houses, I walked straight past it several times before giving up and knocking on the first door to ask for directions.

Not knowing that this was the place, it was slightly unnerving when I was greeted with "Ah, you must be Chris, we've been expecting you". After a moment of panic that I'd stumbled across a community of LEJOG stalkers, it was confirmed that I was actually in the right place. Think I'll stick to the official campsites from now on - at least the tents are a bit of a giveaway.

Day 20 - Lethargy......

2008-07-07T20:21:00.003+01:00

Chilcompton to Bath - 9/6/08

At last, it seems the weather is finally on my side. Today was another scorcher and whilst this might cause me to sweat even more profusely than usual (and that is bad enough) at least I can chill out in the sunshine after reaching camp. Even better, today turned out to be a pretty short day by my standards, which means I have maximum time to be lazy. The only downside to short days is that it makes writing an interesting blog entry something of a challenge. I suppose I shouldn't complain. After the last few days, it's quite pleasant to have an uneventful walk.

The route for today was largely along the roads, which is far from ideal but at least you can be certain that the way will be clear of excessive foliage. The oppressive heat (I know - I'm never satisfied) did make the going slightly tougher than it ought to have been but it was far from the most challenging day I've had.

Probably the hardest (but certainly the most interesting) part of the day came when I finally abandoned my tarmac friend and took an old byway in order to cut quite a sizeable corner. It started innocently enough; the surface wasn't great but you could still easily drive along it if you took it steady. As I descended further into the valley, small streams started to appear along the road, shallow at first and then progressively deeper and wider so that eventually I found myself walking along an increasingly narrow embankment. To top it all off, there were a series of steep drops where the original road had obviously subsided due to its new watery status.

What surprised me most, as I slowly clambered down this natural obstacle, were the tyre tracks. This track was long past the point that it could be called a road and yet people still seemingly used it as such. I presume it must be used by some local off-roading club, but I suppose its possible that some navigationally challenged but optimistic motorists might have attempted to force their way through. I'm both disappointed and glad not to have been witness to such an act of lunacy. While the attempt would surely be spectacular, being roped into pushing them back up the slope would have seriously eaten into my sunbathing time.

Day 18 - Company, hippies and a merry meeting

2008-07-03T21:32:00.008+01:00

Street to Chilcompton - 7/6/08

Today was easily the best day of my journey so far. There are three reasons for this. First and foremost, today I've been joined by my Dad who has bravely donned the boots and provided me with some exceedingly welcome company for the day. Secondly, I've been able to sling my leaden pack into the boot of the car for the day, which means that I've had an entire day without the weighty bugger trying to drill me into the pavement with every step. Last, but by no means least, my good friends Rob and Vicky have come to visit, which means that I've had a welcoming party eagerly awaiting my arrival at the site this evening.

With the situation as it was, I would probably have enjoyed any route (even the Exe Valley Way - maybe) and whilst our chosen path was pretty road heavy, it proved pleasant enough.

The day began in the same layby where my bedraggled self had been rescued yesterday. Something of an inauspicious start perhaps, but it actually worked out rather well. Had I continued last night to the campsite where we were scheduled to meet, this morning would have involved a couple of miles backtracking to return to the route. As it was, my Dad and myself were ideally positioned to catch a short bridle way and join the lane that cuts around the back of Street and in the process save ourselves a mile or two of hiking.

Having effectively by-passed Street, our trail next took us to the hippy commune of Glastonbury. It really is quite a fascinating place and not just because of the imposing Glastonbury Tor that dominates the skyline. I would hazard a guess that the High Street has remained largely unchanged since the 60's and certainly the profusion of alternative style shops made a pleasant change from the carbon copy town centres in most places. I will say one thing for Glastonbury; it makes a fine coffee and flapjack (well the cafe we stopped at certainly did). Just the thing to get the weary walker back on the road.

And back on the road we duly went. In fact, after consulting the map over coffee we decided to bite the bullet and take the main road between Glastonbury and Wells. While A-roads are not particularly walker friendly (the high volume of traffic is usually a good reason for avoiding them), in this case, avoiding the A road would have meant twice as long spent on B roads. With friends awaiting me at my destination we decided to opt for the more direct approach. Fantastically, this particular road came complete with a handy pavement for almost the entire way, which turned a potentially unpleasant hour into something much more tolerable. It was still noisy, which made conversation a tad tricky, but at least we didn't have to spend our time dodging the traffic.

Wells is yet another place I'd never been to, though it seems like somewhere that would be nice to re-visit when I'm not heading North. The town (or rather city) certainly seemed to be bustling with other folks taking in the sights. We, however, contented ourselves with a pasty stop in the grounds of the impressive Wells Cathedral. There's something about the architecture of Cathedrals that never fails to move me. It's fascinating to think of the skill and dedication that went into the mammoth task of constructing these vast edifices. Sadly, today there was no time for leisurely exploration and having consumed our well earned pasties, it was time for the last push to Chilcompton.

Having spent the majority of the day on the flat, the road out of Wells played a particularly mean trick, by winding steadily but consistently uphill. This went on for mile after mile and I was increasingly grateful to be without my pack, which would have turned this final stretch into a real test of endurance. This was certainly the case for my Dad who, lacking feet toughened by 200 miles of pounding, managed to rub himself a fine blister before the road finally levelled off. Needless to say we were both exceedingly relieved when the camp site finally came into view and we could finally kick off the boots and reflect on a great days rambling.

Day 17 - Stings, Mumps and a blocked Drain

2008-06-30T21:48:00.005+01:00

Taunton to Street - 6/6/08

I really needed the extra day off in Taunton yesterday. I woke up stiff as the proverbial board and exceedingly glad not to have to don the boots and hit the road. This morning I was still somewhat tender but certainly far better than I had been and given that today was yet another arduous day, I would have struggled without a rest. Special mention must go to everyone at the Heathercroft B&B in Taunton for their unending sympathy, help and support. If you ever pass through Taunton they are well worth a visit.

I'm spending tonight with my parents who are coming down to see how I'm getting on and give a bit of a boost to my spirits after the ordeal the other day. This has the added bonus that today I was only walking with half a pack, having left my camping gear at the B&B for collection by my folks this afternoon. Even half empty however, the pack was still a considerable weight and still, somehow, managed to chafe my shoulders at the end of the day.

In a mirror of my journey from Tiverton, my walk today began along the side of the Taunton to Bridgewater canal. I guess its down to Taunton being a fairly large town, but the early scenery along the canal was considerably more industrial than it had been in previous days. I shouldn't complain really; everytime I go off road I wish I was back in civilisation and everytime I'm in a town I wish I was out of it again. No pleasing some folks I suppose. In any case, the factories and offices soon gave way to trees and fields, which made the stroll along the towpath much more pleasant.

Given my previous experience when leaving canals, I was a touch apprehensive as I finally veered off the towpath and joined the banks of the River Tone. On the positive side, it was nowhere near as overgrown as it could have been, but it was sufficiently nettle filled to provide a tricky route finding challenge. In a rather curious oversight, my walking trousers, whilst lightweight and exceedingly comfortable, are clearly not nettle proof. As I am similarly lacking in "nettle proofing", the only options for traversing fields of these prickly little buggers are either to use my trekking poles to gingerly pick out a path or don the gortex and barge right through.

After a mile or so of option one I lost patience and despite scorching weather, I pulled on my waterproof trousers, gave up following the path of least resistance and stomped in a straight line between stiles. Whilst this helped the stress levels no end, by the time I finally rejoined the road, I was absolutely drenched and exceedingly grateful to be back on asphalt (never thought I'd say that!!).

Call me a sucker for punishment, but shortly after joining the road I took a momentary deviation in order to crawl up the side of a ferociously steep little hill. This was not a random attack of masochism but rather an opportunity to explore the ruined abbey on Burrow Mump. It's a little like a smaller, less touristy version of Glastonbury Tor, though even at its more modest height the views over the surrounding Somerset levels are superb. It certainly proved an excellent spot for me to sit and have a bite to eat and generally try to recover from my trek along the river.

Alas, my trials were not over for the day. Kings Sedgemoor Drain is one of the largest of many many drainage channels criss-crossing the fields of the Somerset levels. Essentially, it is a dead straight river into which many of the smaller channels flow. This means that any walk along the bank involves the crossing of at least a dozen smaller streams; a challenge made much simpler by the provision of bridges. However, when I came to use said bridges they were either completely obscured by shrubberies or collapsed.

This was annoying enough in itself, but when combined with chest high undergrowth (I'm 6 feet 4 by the way) covering the fields in between, it turned this section into a complete nightmare. It took me almost an hour to cover a mile and a half of riverbank and by the time I reached the road I had well and truly had enough of waterways for one day.

I therefore decided to signal my folks for a roadside pick-up (a luxury I would have been keen to use a dozen times over by now). This does mean that I'll be starting my walk tomorrow from a layby rather than my campsite, as intended but at this point I'm finding it difficult to care. So long as I begin tomorrow where I left off today it doesn't really matter and this way I get to spend another hour or so with my folks. After two weeks on my lonesome, it's well worth a longer day tomorrow.

Day 15 Canals, ex-canals and the difference thereof

2008-06-30T21:05:00.014+01:00

Tiverton to Taunton - 4/6/08

Wow!! Today was quite a trial. I knew I would have to dig deep on this little escapade of mine, but I thought that it would be towards the end rather than two weeks in. I kind of knew that today was going to be a tough one just on distance alone (my guide book claims 24 miles and I believe it!!) but things just sort of fell apart as the day wore on.

To make matters worse, a glance at the map suggests that despite the distance, today should have been easy, given that it follows the course of an (ex) canal and is hence flat. It just goes to show how deceiving maps can be.

Nevertheless the day began promisingly enough. Freshly rested from my day off in Tiverton (nice little town by the way), after a quick plod through the streets I joined the start of the canal that would be my companion throughout the day. I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed the first few hours, strolling along the towpath. The weather was good (for a change), the path was clear and level and the scenery was very pleasant. After so many days on the lanes, following the waterway and getting to see a little wildlife was very pleasant (I lost count of the number of tiny Cygnets and Ducklings that I spotted).

The surprising quantity of wildlife (including an Adder sunning itself on the towpath!!) is no doubt down to the equally surprising lack of boat traffic on the canal. Surprising that is until you consult the map and discover that after winding its way around contours for a dozen or so miles, the canal ends unceremoniously in the middle of nowhere. What you have therefore is, in effect, not a canal but a twelve mile long pond. This lack of boat movement and the absence of any current has had a surprising side-effect, in that, for the last 4 or 5 miles this is quite easily the clearest canal I have ever seen. It sounds a little odd, but I was genuinely taken aback by this. Usually, most of British Waterways are murky brown at best, so to find one absolutely crystal clear came as something of a shock. Given the heat of the day, I was increasingly tempted to drop the pack and go for a dip.

I decided to press on, which was fine right up until the point where the canal abruptly ended and thereafter the day descended into misery. My guidebook quite innocently states that after the canal has come to an end, you should simply follow the course of the abandoned canal, essentially, all the way to Taunton. I'm not sure when the book was written but if anyone is planning to follow the same course as I have, let me give you some advice. "Don't!" I've had some pretty overgrown paths in the last couple of weeks, but trying to walk along sections of the old canal is like trying to walk through a particularly dense hedge. I can only surmise that nobody has attempted this part of the route for a while and certainly not with a bulky pack. I literally had to turn my trekking poles into makeshift machetes and hack a path through the foliage. On such a long day, this was exhausting and after a couple of miles I was physically drained and actually dreading the remaining 10 miles or so into Taunton.

At my lowest ebb (shortly after leaning against a fence to catch my breath only to find it electrified), I tried to call my folks to get a few words of encouragement and a general pick-me-up. Even this was denied however thanks to the complete lack of signal on the phone. A few miles further on I did eventually get through, though at this point I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. A conversation with my Mum later, I was feeling slightly better, though I still had a few miles to go before I could finally stop. To help matters, my left leg (that had been playing up on the way into Tiverton) had flared up again and was now causing me real problems. It was this that clinched the decision to abandon the slog along the canal at the next road that I came to, and wind my way into Taunton along the lanes. While this turned out to be less than direct, at least I didn't have to fight for every step.

By the time I hobbled into Taunton some 11 (!) hours after setting off from Tiverton, I was pretty much on my knees. I've decided to take an unscheduled day off tomorrow as, currently, I can barely bend my left leg without considerable pain, which doesn't really lend itself to long distance walking.

Fortunately the B&B that I am staying at can accommodate me for the extra day and the lady who runs the place couldn't be nicer or more sympathetic to my bedraggled condition. I've been given the en-suite room with an exceedingly inviting double bed, despite only asking for the standard single room. That little act of kindness is already helping to make me feel better, which after the day I've had, is well overdue.

Day 13 - Misery, injury and a torrent of vitriol

2008-06-28T21:05:00.005+01:00

Salmonhutch, Crediton to Tiverton - 2/6/08

Come one, come all for a riveting walk along the spectacular Exe Valley Way. We have the ups, we have the downs (none of those pesky flat sections though) and for those of you who dream of a morning of knee shattering fun, there's always the option of an exciting on-road section first thing. If you can tear yourself away from the relaxing asphalt surface (steep camber included at no extra price) then the wonderful Exe Valley Way offers even more to the discerning hiker.

Relive those childhood dreams of exploration as you battle through our specially prepared undergrowth. Our route maintenance experts have been busily crafting a dense foliage jungle just for you and their careful placement of fallen trees and overhanging branches ensures that your time on the trail will be a real challenge.

But, it's not just about physical exertion; there are sights aplenty to be seen as you go. See our glorious hedgerows which come with our personal "breeze blocker" guarantee to provide you with mile after mile of near identical viewing. After the hedges, be sure to enjoy our sodden fields, murky forests and have your camera ready for the unmissable sights and smells of the Tiverton sewage works.

All said, the Exe Valley Way really is the trip of a lifetime so don't delay, grab your waders and come and join us today. As a bonus, act now and you'll get the benefit of our stifling humidity and torrential downpours at no extra cost. The Exe Valley Way - a once in a lifetime experience.

You can probably tell from the above rant (I don't know why it took the form of an advert - it just seemed right at the time), that the route today has not really been one of my favourites to date. Not only has the walking generally been awful, but the constant ups and downs all day have taken their toll and I'm now walking with a distinct limp. It's my left leg this time, just above the knee, but fortunately I've got tomorrow off, so by the time I don the pack again, it should hopefully feel a tad better.

So, focusing on the positives, what have I enjoyed about today? The honest answer would be precious little, although I must pass on a good word for Bickleigh Mill. I came across this lifesaver late in the afternoon after stomping up and down the hills all the way from Crediton. Having found nothing to eat since my modest bowl of breakfast porridge, I was naturally starving and so pretty much anything would have been welcome. My deli board of cold meats, breads, cheeses etc and a cream tea (complete with two giant scones) turned out to be delicious and all disappeared in a matter of minutes.

Sadly, not even a full stomach could improve the bog ridden off road section that consumed the remainder of my afternoon. It seems to be a constant problem down here that even the more prominent footpaths are in desperate need of a spot of maintenance. It's all well and good providing signs and waymarkers pointing across a field but if you can't physically walk across said field without hacking through waist high grass and climbing over fallen trees, then something is clearly amiss. I therefore implore whoever is in charge of the footpaths of Southern England to get out there and "walk the trails yourself" (preferably with a heavy backpack) so that when the next LEJOG walker comes along they can have something positive to say about their journey into Tiverton.

Sun, stroll and the company of fish

2008-06-28T20:37:00.008+01:00

Venton to Salmonhutch, Crediton - 1/6/08

It would seem that someone was listening the other day when I was moaning about the wet weather. Today was my first totally dry day since setting off from Lands End and I must say that it made for a pleasant change. The most noticeable difference was probably just packing my tent away dry for a change and it was surprising how much lighter the whole thing was without all of the excess water. Still, it would seem that more rain is on the way for the rest of the week, so I suppose I shouldn't get used to it.

On to today's walk then and really, its not been too bad. No major surprises and its been quite pleasant just to trundle along and drift off into my own little world. It's helped that the mileage for today has not been particularly vast so I've just been able to go at my own pace. It also meant that I've been able to take a generous break for lunch, which is something of a change from my usual sandwich at the roadside.

Speaking of roads, today was yet another tarmac heavy day along the lanes of Devon. Hard on the feet, easy on the navigation is a situation I'm getting increasingly used to. I still find it irritating though when the high hedges block out views of the surrounding countryside for mile after mile. Sometimes it feels like walking in an incredibly long tunnel for the day, which was novel at first but is now getting pretty tiresome. At least now that I'm out of Cornwall, Rights of Way are becoming more prolific so hopefully the coming days will be a little more varied.

I'm staying tonight at the Salmonhutch Coarse Fishery just outside Crediton. I had originally planned to take an extra day off here as a rest day, but I've decided to push on to Tiverton instead tomorrow and take a rest day there. Partly, this is down to the somewhat spartan facilities here at the site (they don't have showers - I had to dunk my head in the sink!!!). However, I also quite fancy a day or two in civilisation after being slightly remote for the last couple of weeks. Besides, spending two days with only fish for company is not an especially attractive prospect.

Just a quickie...

2008-06-28T20:20:00.002+01:00

Hi folks

This is just a quick note to apologise for the tardiness on the blog front recently and to let you know that all is progressing well. I am making good progress; I am currently North of Ashbourne in Derbyshire and will be starting on the Pennine Way on Tuesday.

I hope to have a few more blogs up in the next few days, but I have slipped behind a little (??) in writing them up. I will do my best to bring them up to date as soon as I can so that you see what I have been up to as I made my way through several counties on my steady trek North. Thanks for all of your interest and support and hopefully normal blog service will be resumed soon.

Cheers
Chris

Day 11 - Views, sun and an increasing sense of optimism

2008-06-13T15:56:00.011+01:00

Bridestowe to Venton - 31/5/08

I've actually quite enjoyed today. I know that shouldn't be surprising, but this first week or so has been pretty tough on my feet/legs/shoulders/knees etc and the discomfort has somewhat lessened my enjoyment. Today however has been the first day where (apart from the last mile or so), I've felt reasonably fresh throughout and as a result, I've been able to relax and enjoy the scenery so much more. This might also have something to do with me taking more rest stops than usual (every hour as opposed to just one for lunch) and whilst it may make the day slightly longer, I still think it's worth it.

Some would argue that the reason for happy feet is that my route today was for the most part, cross country. They may well have a point and certainly the scenery was much more pleasant, though any change from the now over familiar hedgerows is exceedingly welcome.

The day started with the usual lanes replaced by field crossings and a riveting game of "dodge the stampeding cows". I'm sure they were only curious and that if I had shouted "boo" they would have scarpered in the opposite direction, but several tonnes of incoming beef is still a tad unnerving. Having escaped the perils of my bovine friends, it was time to tackle the perils of Dartmoor.

To be fair, I did little more than skirt the edge for an hour or two but even from this relatively lowly vantage point, it was easy to see how people get into difficulty out there. It's bleakness makes it an attractive place to wander on a sunny day but this is a place where the weather can change in an instant and unless you have considerable experience with compass navigation, you might find yourself having an uncomfortable night on the moors.

It seems the weather had some sympathy for my own level of compass skill and the skies remained blue and clear for the duration, though in my route, the paths were well trodden and hardly made for taxing navigation. This meant that I had some truly excellent views of the surrounding countryside, which was so pleasant after the claustrophobic lanes. It was almost a pity to leave, but leave I did, along the Two Castles trail which again coincided with my route and provided and handy way into Okehampton.

The entry into the town itself was made more interesting by the crossing of the local Golf Club. I certainly got some odd looks from the golfers when I stumbled out of the woods, looking like a vagrant and proceeded to plod myself and my pack across their manicured fairways. As a side note, it must be said that 11 days of stubble growth is not really helping me look any less like a tramp, though I'm hoping that by hanging my map around my neck people will get the idea that I'm a long distance walker. This plan doesn't seem to be doing much to disperse the funny looks but perhaps when I hit the Cotswold Way and get into walker territory, I'll feel more accepted. For now though, I grabbed a quick sandwich from the town centre and the scurried back off into the countryside.

In fact scurrying was quite appropriate as I spent the afternoon following the path of the Tarka Trail, which takes in locations visited by the Otter of the same name in the famous book. However, having never read the book, this meant little to me although it would appear that said Otter was rather better at navigation than me (hardly surprising) as I spent much of my time on the trail getting lost (again).

Ah well, at least I made it to the campsite here at Venton eventually and who knows, perhaps by the time I reach John O Groats I might even have developed a sense of direction!

Day 10 - Something, something and a lack of inspiration

2008-06-13T15:31:00.004+01:00

Roadford Lake to Bridestowe - 30/5/08

I've been trying to write this blog for the last hour or so but its one of those nights where my creativity appears to have abandoned me and I'm left with little idea of what to write.

To be fair, today has hardly been full of adventurous exploits. that's not to say that it hasn't been enjoyable, it's just not been particularly eventful. Given that the distance for today was a little under 11 miles, it's not surprising that there were few surprises (Does that make sense??). I shouldn't complain though as I have three very long days coming up in a week or so and I shall be wishing I was back on the afternoon stroll that today became.

Knowing that my route was hardly taxing today, I made the most of a nice long lie-in which, despite being under canvas (in the world's soggiest field), was actually very pleasant. When I did finally drag myself out of my sleeping bag, most of my fellow campers were already up and out on the lake in/on their various contraptions. Given how humid it was this morning, it was all I could do not to grab a wetsuit and join them, but being the dutiful LEJOGer I reached for the boots instead. As if to reward my dedication, when I went up to pay for my accommodation they refused to take my money and told me to donate it to my charity instead.

Buoyed by this act of generosity, I left Roadford with a veritable spring in my step. This probably wasn't the best day however for such exuberant movement as the combination of humidity, pack and exertion meant that 20 minutes down the road I was absolutely drenched. Apologies here if I have put any of you off your dinner, but as I have said before I have (and always have had) a tendency to sweat profusely at the best of times and this morning was bad even by my standards. Helpfully, the high hedges lining the road did a sterling job of blocking all and any breeze, which meant that I continued to dissolve as I meandered down the lanes.

Around the time I was re-joining the Two Castles trail, I stupidly started to think that a bit of rain would be quite welcome in order to clear the air. I should know by now that you should "be careful what you wish for..."as no sooner had this thought crossed my mind than the first rumble of thunder was heard. Despite the continued lack of breeze at ground level, said storm somehow managed to follow me all the way to Bridestowe. It then hung around long enough for me to enjoy pitching my tent in the rain (yet again) before disappearing to, presumably, harass some other poor hiker. I'm beginning to think that I've offended the weather in some way as, since setting off on my journey 10 days ago, I've failed to have a single rain free day. I wouldn't mind but I always thought that the South was the warmer and drier part of the country. I'd expect this sort of weather back home, but not here. Ah well, got to love the British summer haven't you!!

Day 9 - Beasties, a Castle and a re-charged battery

2008-06-13T14:48:00.007+01:00

Pipers Pool to Roadford Lake - 29/5/08

What a difference a day makes. More specifically, what a difference a day spent lying in bed, watching TV and eating lemon bon-bons, makes. On my arrival at Pipers Pool I felt like death warmed up, but thanks to spending a very lazy Day 8 and another fantastic cooked breakfast (going back to porridge tomorrow will come as a bit of a shock), I'm feeling much much better. My feet are still a little bit tender but at least they are back to their original colour again, which is a considerable improvement.

Before I start on about today's walk, I just have to mention the Rudona B&B where I have spent the last two nights. If you're ever in the area of Pipers Pool/Launceston you really should consider spending a night at the Rudona. It's run by Barbara and Roger and from the moment I stepped through the door they were offering me cups of tea and sandwiches (they must have heard about me) and generally making sure that I was as comfortable as possible. As you can imagine, after a week under canvas this was exactly what the doctor ordered. This morning however, the trail once again beckoned and so after breakfast I said my farewells and set foot once again on my journey North.

The morning consisted of the all too familiar lanes although these did appear rather more abundant with wildlife than usual. Before reaching Launceston I had disturbed countless rabbits, two foxes (which takes my lifetime count of foxes seen to 3!) and an entire family of pheasants complete with tiny baby pheasants.

After the menagerie of the morning, Launceston was somewhat drab by comparison. To be fair, I had already spent a couple of hours there on my day off wandering around and hence I had no desire for a repeat performance today. That's not to say that I disliked Launceston - the Castle sitting proud in the middle of the town was certainly worth a look as was the little coffee shop I had visited, but there was nothing spectacular about the place that would draw me back or detain me. Still, it had served its purpose well in allowing me to re-supply and that's all I could ask for.

With the silhouette of Launceston Castle behind me, I set off along the path of the Two Castles trail - a waymarked route of winding lanes, bridle ways and footpaths that links Launceston Castle with its counterpart in Okehampton (hence the name). As I will be passing through Okehampton in a few days time the trail provides a useful route for me to follow until then - that's the theory anyway. I'm actually staying at Roadford Lake, which is somewhat off the prescribed route but given that it is the only campsite nearby, a detour is the only option.

Before veering off lake wards though, the trail proved pleasant enough if a little boggy in places, though with the weather recently, it is hardly surprising. It was nice to have something other than tarmac to walk on for a change, though the trail does have its fair share, and I know that my feet certainly appreciated having a softer surface for a spell.

From the trail to the lake was a simple succession of roads, which would hardly be worth mentioning if it wasn't for the fact that on one of these roads I (finally) made the transition from Cornwall to Devon. Leaving Cornwall behind has confirmed to me that I am making progress, which is great but it also reminds me that I still have a long long way to go.

Day 7 - Ups, downs and colourful feet

2008-06-13T13:16:00.005+01:00

St. Breward to Pipers Pool - 27/5/08

It dawned on me gradually this morning that for once I wouldn't have to bother with my usual ritual of dismantling camp. It was a nice feeling and even nicer to be in a comfy bed rather than my normal 5 star canvas accommodation. Despite the lack of chores, it was still almost 10-o-clock before I finally loaded myself up and staggered back onto the trail. Most of the blame for the delay (besides pure laziness on my part) was down to the fantastic feast laid on by my hostess for breakfast. It turned out that she was actually the head chef over at the pub I had eaten at last night and given how good my meal had been there, I didn't want to waste a single morsel this morning.

Such a filling start to the day turned out to be a very good thing as today turned out to be another long one. It was also probably the trickiest navigation I have had to do so far, as my route took me right across the middle of Bodmin Moor. In fact I not only walked right across the moor but I also did it via the highest point, Brown Willy, which at 1,377 feet, also happens to be the highest point in Cornwall. This means that for the 20 minutes that I spent having a break at the summit, I was higher than anyone else in the whole of Cornwall, which is not something you get to say everyday !!

The downside of bagging the peak before lunchtime swiftly became apparent as, by the time I had scrambled up to the summit and down the other side, I was already thoroughly worn out. Sadly, at this point, I still had some 10 or so miles to go, so there was nothing to do but suck it up and press on. The pressing on went fine for about an hour but upon seeing the sign for Jamaica Inn, my will power crumbled and I found myself suddenly inside this atmospheric little tavern. Being something of a tourist trap due to its connection with the novels of Daphne du Maurier, I ended up paying somewhat over the odds for my afternoon refreshments. Whilst this was a little irritating, the food was fine and the drink was cold and at this point in the day both were exceedingly welcome.

Suitably refreshed, I left the old coaching inn behind me and took a series of lanes to the wide open spaces of Hendra Downs, where I promptly got lost. I've noticed a slightly devious nature in some of the Cornish rights of way. On more than one occasion, I have been lured away from the roads with the beginning of a well waymarked trail, only to have the said trail vanish. It's almost as if the person responsible for waymarking has lost interest after marking the first couple of points and wandered off to do something else. I therefore found myself in the middle of an expanse of common land with only a vague idea of the direction I needed to be heading in. Fortunately my compass came to the rescue and with a bit of common sense (not to mention following field boundaries looking for exits) I did eventually get myself back on track.

This was the last thing I needed at this point to be honest. I was already feeling pretty tired and an extra hour trying to exit the downs all but finished me off. The last hour to Pipers Pool was a nightmare. Everything hurt (it still does) but special mention must go to my feet which felt as though they were being steadily crushed into two large pancakes by the weight of my pack.

Eventually I made it into Pipers Pool and to the front door of the Rudona B&B and a welcome from Barbara and Roger, which started to ease the pain. I've decided to take an unscheduled day off tomorrow to try to give my feet a chance to return to their normal colour (right now they are literally black and blue). It's actually good timing, as I'm running low on supplies and as I should be back to camping again for the next few nights, I really need to stock up.

Day 6 - Moors, Camels and a typical Bank Holiday

2008-06-12T21:15:00.008+01:00

Trekenning, St. Columb Major to St. Breward - 26/5/08

Hurrah for the great British Bank Holiday !! As with every bank holiday since the dawn of time, the weather today consisted of a non-stop downpour. Added into the mix for this particular holiday were gale force winds, which it has to be said, made the conditions far from ideal for a nice long hike. However, that's exactly what I have been "enjoying" all day, but on the plus side, it makes the evening visit to the pub all the more pleasurable (I'm writing this in The Old Inn, St. Breward)

Even better news is that tonight, after four nights under canvas, I've finally got a real bed and a roof over my head. Of course, all of that pleasure has to be balanced by the considerable pain, which takes the form of my increasingly blistered feet. My little toe on my right foot has a blister three layers deep, having blistered, burst, blistered again, burst again and today has managed to blister yet again. Bandaging doesn't seem to make any difference - I think I might just leave it "au natural" tomorrow and see what difference that makes (only joking).

Anyway, I must stop moaning and concentrate on the positives, as reading about the deterioration of my body scarcely makes riveting reading. Today's walk started like every other so far, with a delightful trundle down the side of a road. Mercifully, it wasn't long before I left the asphalt behind and struck out along the path to the ancient hill fort of Castle an Dinas. If I had thought it was windy down the road, then up on the hill it was blowing a gale. It did make me think just how bleak life must have been when the fort was in use, especially seeing as they would not have had a comfy "Gore-Tex" shell like myself. Still, even with the "Gore-Tex" I was getting a touch on the chilly side, so I left the windy summit and headed off across the surrounding moor. Sadly, I managed to head off in completely the wrong direction, though after much head scratching, I did eventually make it back onto the road; just not quite where I had intended.

Fortunately, navigation for the rest of the day proved to be a doddle, with more lanes to follow before joining the Camel Trail at Boscarne Junction. The Camel Trail was an unexpected pleasure after so many days of road walking. Following the path of an abandoned railway, the trail passes through picturesque woodland alongside the course of the Camel River. Probably the best thing about the trail (besides the lovely setting) is that, being an ex-railway, it's almost completely flat. Given how hilly Cornwall has been thus far (surprisingly so), a bit of level walking is just what the doctor ordered.

Alas, in order to reach St. Breward and my room for the night, I had to abandon the trail and set foot again on the all too familiar roads. Perhaps it was a form of protest about my previous abandonment, but the road had one last dirty trick up its sleeve. This came in the form of a dirty great hill, which reduced my last half hour to a painful, back breaking slog. Luckily, I have a real bed tonight in which to recover, which, given the continuing downpour outside, is a very good thing indeed!!

Day 5 - Showers, blisters and a walk in the woods

2008-06-10T21:40:00.007+01:00

Carnon Downs to Trekenning, St. Columb Major - 25/5/08

After a day off (Day 4) seeing the sights and sounds of Carnon Downs (not sure a whole day was really required for this), it was up with the sun this morning and back on the trail. The route for today was around 17 miles and, for the most part, along Cornish lanes again. This being the case, I was fully expecting my feet to get another hammering and unfortunately I wasn't disappointed. It seems that I now have more blisters than it is actually possible to plaster, which led me to wonder, at one painful moment, why they don't make blister plasters large enough to cover your whole foot. Hmmm seems to be a gap in the market there !!!

Apart from the blisters, today has actually been quite pleasant (apart from the last hour where I was dying on my feet - but nothing new there). This is something of a surprise as today is the longest day I've done thus far. Even more surprising is the fact that my niggly knee (which was becoming particularly tiresome) behaved itself pretty much all day. There were a few exceptions, such as on steeper slopes, but any improvement on the pain front is exceedingly welcome.

What of the walk itself then? It started off, as ever, with a good drenching from the maddeningly inconsistent weather; it's blue skies and lovely now. Sort of expecting that this was going to be the case, I made sure to transform myself into "Gore-tex Man" before setting off. This of course was the best way to ensure that immediately on setting off, it stopped raining, but having just started out on the road I was reluctant to stop to remove my "cocoon" only to have the drizzle re-commence.

First stop, of sorts, was the city of Truro, though given that it was a Bank Holiday Sunday and still early morning, the whole place was deserted, save for the few folks hurrying into the Cathedral in time for morning service. Seeing little point in hanging around an empty town centre, I took a couple of photos for posterity and headed along the road out of town. After a couple of miles of the now familiar lanes, I finally got a chance to bid farewell to the asphalt for an hour or two and threaded my way through Idless Wood.

I've done coastal paths, moorland and country lanes but woodland is a new one on the terrain list for this walk so far, and I must say that the change was very pleasant. It reminded me a little of my rambles through Cannock Chase back home and though I enjoyed it, walking through dense forest for two hours without seeing another person felt a little creepy at times. I admit that on occasions, I found myself stopping to glance down the trail behind me, though quite what I was looking for, I've no idea.

Upon finally escaping the woods, it was back to the lanes once again for the remainder of the day. The problem with Cornish lanes from a hikers perspective is that they are invariably lined with tall hedgerows, which means that your view of the countryside is usually restricted to whatever happens to be growing by the roadside. There were occasions when the hedges relented and the views over the rolling hills were decidedly pleasant, but these seemed to be the exceptions rather than the norm. This is a little sad as I can't help but think that I am expending all of this energy walking through Cornwall, but somehow not seeing very much of it. Ah well; one benefit of a trek this long is that there are plenty more opportunities to see things, I suppose.

Day 3 - Hunger, thirst and a well earned pint

2008-06-08T21:52:00.004+01:00

Pengoon Farm to Carnon Downs - 23/5/08

Phew. Today was another tough day for me. Mileage wise it wasn't too bad (though I suspect we may have under-estimated the distance of these first few days). It was just a combination of little things that made the afternoon a bit of a struggle.

Things started out poorly, with an early morning downpour soaking my camping gear prior to me trying to pack it away (for the second morning in a row). The rain also meant that the surrounding countryside was a touch on the soggy side, which was fine until I turned onto an old bridle way and discovered that the shrubberies had decided to reclaim the area. Not particularly wanting to force my way through waist high vegetation first thing in the morning, I had a "shufty" at the map to see if I could find a reasonable alternative.Alas, the only one that took me even vaguely in the right direction would add another couple of miles to the journey and hence was equally unappealing. In the end, I had to rummage around in my pack and donned the waterproof trousers and gaiters I had brought for just such an occasion. It was hard going, but fortunately after a mile or so of dragging my poles through the surprisingly clingy flora (imagine walking along with a miniature anchor on each arm), I emerged back onto the smooth open road.

Roads then swiftly became the theme of the day, which was great for navigation (roadsigns made my map and compass somewhat redundant for the day), but I can attest that the unyielding surface is pretty hard on the feet. I was more annoyed than usual then when the chance to rest my weary legs for a spell at the pub in Porkellis was snatched away. Apparently the landlord had figured that Friday afternoon would be the best time to close the establishment in order to frustrate passing hikers. And frustrate he did. I had intended Porkellis (being a decent sized village) to be a good place to stop, but the closure of the tavern meant that by the time I reached the next village, some two hours later, I was absolutely starving.

It was at this point that I made a fundamental mistake. So glad was I to finally find some sustenance, that I totally failed to take into account the status of my water supply. Despite the gloomy start, by this point the weather had turned fair and hence I was getting through my beverage somewhat faster than normal. Of course, such a thought failed to cross my mind until I was about an hour from my destination, when I tried to take a swig from my, now completely empty, Camelbak. It's one of those laws of the universe that when you can't do something, the desire to do it increases a hundredfold. Suffice to say that before I finally made it to camp, I was seriously contemplating flagging down random motorists to see if any of them had any spare beverages.

The upside of this is that I shall be unlikely to make the same mistake again and at least it took my mind off my niggly knee for a while. To compensate for my privations, I'm now sitting in the Carnon Inn, supping a cold pint of Cider and eagerly awaiting the arrival of my Steak Pie. One of the best things about a hard days walking is how much better the evening meal tastes when you know you've really earned it; and I think it's fair to say that this one has been well earned.

Days 2 - Sea, tea and niggly knee

2008-06-05T21:29:00.017+01:00

Bone Valley (Penzance) to Pengoon Farm - 22/5/08

I'm currently hiding in my tent so I thought I might as well crack on with the blog while I'm trapped. You might assume that I'm hiding from the rain but you'd be wrong (for a change). I'm in fact sheltering from the piercing gazes of the four toddlers from the pitch next to mine. They seem to have found something intensely fascinating about my visage and are content to stand in a silent huddle and stare at me. Finding this a touch on the creepy side, I've retreated to my sanctuary whilst they go and find another hiker to examine.

Unnverving children aside, how has the second day on the road gone I hear you ask? The succinct answer would be slightly schizophrenic I suppose. This morning, as I meandered along the winding coastal path from Penzance, I felt extremely privileged to be doing what I'm doing. On the flip side, after waiving goodbye to the sea (next time I see it will hopefully be in Scotland) and heading inland, it all fell apart and I found myself longing for the campsite well before it appeared.

The problem was not the change in scenery (though I am something of a fan of the sea), but rather the effect that the coastal path had had upon my right knee. It had started to niggle around lunchtime, but after a pit-stop in Marazion to fill up on Cream Tea (whilst in Rome etc), it seemed to have sorted itself out. It would appear, however, that it was merely shy and after an hour or two to bolster its courage, it returned to spend the day as an unwanted companion. It's not so bad that I struggle to walk, but it's irritating enough to be very hard to ignore as I trundle along. Ah well, no one said that this was going to be easy I suppose, and on the plus side I've got a rest day coming up the day after tomorrow so I can give it chance to mend a little.

For now though, I think I might brave a peek outside and see if my audience has dispersed. Mind you, it's a good incentive to get back on the trail and move on to a new site so that I can stop feeling like an exhibit.

Farewells, frustrations and the kindness of strangers

2008-06-05T20:40:00.014+01:00

It's begun. Land's End is behind me (about 10 miles behind me in fact) and my journey is shorter than it was last night. Granted it is only 1% shorter (if that) but however you look at it, that's going in the right direction.

I must admit that, even a whole day in, the fact that I've finally started this big adventure has yet to hit home. I'm sure that in the coming days it will strike me like an anvil to the face but for now I'm happy to believe myself to be out for a weekend of rambling. That being the case, I'm happy to say that my "weekend" has started rather nicely.

After spending the night at the all but deserted Land's End Hotel (can't get much closer to the start than that really) and having the obligatory cheesy photo by the famous signpost, it was finally time to set my boots to the path and head North. For the first hour it turned out that I would be enjoying some company in the form of my Dad. Never one to waste good walking weather he was keen to walk off breakfast and being glad of the company, we set off along the coastal path together. Of course, that only served to delay the emotional goodbye's and "good lucks" but having already been on the trail for part of the morning somehow made the whole affair a bit easier.

After finally parting ways, my route took me over the most westerly hill in England, Chapel Carn Brea. I would like to tell you that the views from the top were stunning, but I'm afraid my efforts to reach the summit died about half way up the thickly overgrown "footpath". Instead, I decided to veer off and leave the shrubbery filled Carn Brea behind me and instead concentrate on reaching the iron age village of Carn Euny. And reach it I did, though even looking at the maps now from the "comfort" of my tent, I can't quite figure out how. I remember taking a slightly dubious shortcut through someone's garden and then I was somehow wandering around the ruins. Not knowing how I had got there made getting out again somewhat tricky, but after plodding through a few fields and elegantly heaving myself over a wall, I managed to get back on track.

The rest of the walk was blessedly uneventful, although my shoulders were starting to protest against the weight of my pack long before I was able to shrug out of it. I suspect this is going to be a recurring theme over the next couple of weeks whilst my body adjusts to the extra strain. Apologies in advance therefore for all the moaning I will almost certainly be doing on the subject.

To counter the moaning, allow me to speak of my delight about my first "freebie" of the trip. Before leaving, I fashioned a sign that I could strap to my trekking poles when making camp each night, declaring my intentions to walk the weather map for charity and making a general call for donations. Having had a shifty look at my poster whilst I was showering, my new neighbours decided to donate some home made Banana bread to the cause. I'm not quite sure how to enter Banana bread on the sponsor form, but to save any confusion I've decided to brew a nice cup of coffee and consume the donation on Katherine House's behalf. It's tough, this fundraising malarky isn't it?

Butterflies, Thanks And A Bit Of A Rushed Job

2008-05-20T09:09:00.011+01:00

Morning all,

Overnight I appear to have inhaled a wandering band of butterflies who are seemingly making the most of their new found lodgings by having a party in my stomach. Yes, today is the day and whilst I've been fruitlessly trying to nudge along the passage of time to get here over the last few months now that it's finally arrived I'm wising I had more time to prepare. Still it wouldn't be an adventure if it was easy now would it and given my working status up until last Friday I think I've done all I can in the time I've had.

Of course, that doesn't mean that I'm not going to spend the rest of the morning re-checking (and probably re-re-checking) the contents of my backpack for all those things that I've undoubtedly forgotten and as such this final pre-walk blog entry is going to be a little on the brief side I'm afraid. That said, once I hit the trail tomorrow morning I'll be trying to write a diary entry every day, which should hopefully be inserted into the blog on a vaguely weekly basis depending on the speed of the local postal service (yes I really am that low-tech).

Before I scurry off to continue my final preparations, I just want to say a few words of thanks. First on the list is my family, without whose endless support and encouragement this journey would certainly have never become a reality. Thanks also to my awesome friends who have shown outstanding patience with my endless LEJOG conversations and when the going gets tough their support will keep me on the trail. Thanks to everyone who has generously donated a portion of their hard-earned money towards my fundraising endeavours for the hospice, I promise you that it will make a huge difference to the lives of patients and their families. On the fundraising front, special thanks go out to Walton High School, Barnfields Primary and Berkswitch Primary who have all been kind enough to raise money on my behalf. A special mention goes out also to my Canadian friends across the pond for their extremely generous contribution to my fundraising total. Finally thanks to any and all who have taken the time to read this little rambling diary of mine over the past months, I'm sure it will continue to be an excellent vent for my thoughts, joys and frustrations over the next 1200 miles.

Right, that’s about it for now I'm afraid. I would have liked to write a little section about the excellent weekend (despite the weather) I've just spent camping with my friends in the Peaks but I fear the butterflies will not let me sit still any longer. In compensation to the fine individuals that gave up their weekend to sit in a field with me, I've inserted a few photos from the trip to make up for the lack of prose.
All the best to everyone and I'll speak to you from the trail soon.

A Namesake, A Swarm And An Attack From The Hiking Pixies

2008-05-05T19:37:00.019+01:00

Hello again everybody.

First off, apologies for the lack of posting last week. I spent most of the weekend trying to sort out some bits and bobs for my plans after the LEJOG, which unfortunately left little time to do anything for the LEJOG itself. Rather than trying to stretch an entire post to convey the above three lines I thought I'd give myself a little break and wait a week before continuing my ramblings. Of course, that now means that I have to try to cram a week and half’s worth of anecdotes into one tiny blog post. Now, before you take a shifty glance at the clock and start to wonder if you have the time/energy to read this bumper post (yes I know that I write too much, count yourselves lucky that you only actually see the shorter edited version) bear in mind that it's now only two weeks till the big day. With the starting line in sight it must be said that there is not much left really that needs to be done and hence fewer admin tasks to bang on about in prose. With a couple of small exceptions, my plans are all in place, my hoard of equipment is complete (although I'm almost certain I will have forgotten some small but essential item) and despite still feeling slightly un-prepared practice wise, I'm just counting down the days until I can finally get under way.

Speaking of practice, now that all the paperwork for this trip has been squared away I've finally had chance to get a bit of decent hiking in without having to feel guilty about using up my precious planning time. Having spent most of my training days thus far plodding around the woodland of Cannock Chase (nice though it is) I was feeling ready for a bit of a change of scenery not to mention a change in the weather. I'm pleased to say that this weekend I was fortunate enough to get both at the same time and also have a nice catch up session with my good friends Rob and Vicky at the same time. The plan was for Rob and I to spend the day tromping around the Nottinghamshire countryside after which we would meet up with Vicky back at their flat and go out to the pub for dinner. As plans go, this one was pretty hard to fault.

We had decided the previous evening that rather than following any national trails we'd just pick a couple of points on the map and then use the lanes and ROW's (Rights of Way) to join them up into a big loop. Admittedly this big loop turned out to be somewhat bigger than we had anticipated but more of that later. In order to get a more realistic picture of my life for the next few months I decided to load up my backpack with my gathered possessions and see how my knees/back would cope with the additional weight. To be honest, after a few minutes of adjusting straps and pulling toggles my pack settled into place quite nicely and with the aid of a couple of recently acquired trekking poles it didn't appear to be too much of a burden.

Buoyed up by the sense of optimism we strode out along the road towards Berry Hill which would serve as our first target of the day. Unfortunately it seemed that everyone else in Nottingham decided to join us on the road to Berry Hill and rather than walking they had opted for the motorised transport option. So much for a stroll and a convivial conversation, Rob and I had to shout just to be heard over the traffic and there really is nothing pleasant about slogging along a litter strewn verge (insert littering rant here). After putting so much effort into getting to my namesake, Berry Hill turned out to be little more than a car park beside an old dried up canal lock. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting to be honest but perhaps some sort of hill wouldn't have been beyond the realms of imagination given the name. It's a bit like going to Loch Ness and finding out it's a cement factory. Still disappointment aside, we had a quick look at the overgrown waterway before striking out along the old towpath and onto our next destination St Mary's Church at Colston Basset.

We caught our first glimpse of St Mary's long before we actually got to it through the rolling farmland. Standing proud upon the hillside above Colton Basset it's not immediately obvious that what you’re looking at is really little more than a shell. The church was gutted back in 1898 to make way for the new church of St John the Divine in the village itself. Maybe I've just got a soft spot for old buildings, but to let something that was built with such skill and care fall into ruin in order to build another half a mile away seems like a tragic waste. Fortunately, the site of St Mary's has been lovingly restored and it served as an excellent place for a spot of lunch whilst we poked around the ruins. It was upon entering the church itself that I suddenly became aware of deep humming noise. It appeared to be coming from the bell tower so I thought I'd put my sleuthing hat on and try to determine the source of the disturbance. This source became swiftly apparent when I tilted my eyes skyward inside the tower and beheld a veritable cloud of bees. Luckily, Rob was there to catch my hasty retreat on camera for all posterity. Cheers for the support matey!

After my escape from the little flying honey factories we thought it might be best to press on and leave the new residents of St Mary's in peace. So we gathered up our belongings and set out through the bustling little village and into the farmland beyond. Farmland walking does have a tendency to get a little tedious after a while (well to me it does), but after spending the whole morning hiking along the road it was pleasant to just have a bit of peace and quite and some soft ground underfoot. Nevertheless by the time we reached our third stop off point of the day, Vimmy Ridge, I think we were both ready for a bit of a change. Things were not helped by the fact that my pack (which until then had been an unobtrusive passenger on this little endeavour) was starting to become more of a burden and the thought of dragging it through yet another field of oil seed rape was not especially enticing. However a look at the map revealed that in order to get back to our starting point, we had a choice of more fields or more roads and so by default the former won out. I've noticed that this paragraph is getting a little negative, but it should be noted that on even the best hike, the last few miles is inevitably spent fantasizing about kicking off the boots and relaxing with a well earned pint. That's not to say that after said pint and an hour or two's rest you're not eager to begin the whole process again, but that's not always an easy thing to keep in mind when the hiking pixies are sneaking lead weights into your pack with every step.

I haven’t really got much to say about the last 3-4 miles from Vimmy Ridge to Rob and Vicky's flat except that it swiftly became an exercise in endurance. There were some pleasant distractions though, such as watching the little planes buzzing in and out of the local airfield as we trundled past and the sudden appearance of pine forest on the outskirts of the city made for a pleasant (if belated) change to the scenery. For the most part though I just kept my head down and plodded slowly towards my destination whilst at the same time feeling bad for holding up Rob who unencumbered by a portable home in a bag was clearly none the worse for wear from the days exertions. Still, "slow and steady wins the race" they say and we did of course eventually make it back to the flat, albeit with slightly less of a spring in our step than we left with.
I must admit that that evening I began to feel a little apprehensive about the 1200 mile walk I'm starting in two weeks time. We set out that morning with the aim of doing a 16-17 mile route and if that was the case then it was considerably harder on the knees than I had anticipated it was going to be. I was a bit confused though, as I've done that sort of distance in the past without too much complaint (notice how I've used the qualifier 'too much') and surely the training I've been doing up to now should make it easier rather than harder. Deciding that this merited closer investigation I dug out my map measurer from the bottom of my bag and set about getting an accurate mileage for the day. I'm pleased to say that our guestimation skills leave a lot to be desired, as our steady 16-17 mile day turned out in fact to be a 21 mile slog. This caused a hasty u-turn in my appraisal of the situation, as at 21 miles the walk was just half a mile short of longest day I've got planned all summer and if I could manage it now then by the time I've had a couple of months on the trail to toughen up, I should have no problems going that little bit further.

Well. That's the theory anyway.

An Interview, A Spending Spree And A Returning Sense of Optimism

2008-04-21T20:02:00.013+01:00

Evening folks,

Another week gone and another week closer to setting off on my little stroll.

I'm actually feeling pretty optimistic about the whole endeavour at the moment, which is something of a change from a couple of weeks ago where I couldn't see beyond the endless stream of jobs laid out before me. Now that I have for the most part sorted those little conundrums I'm feeling much more organised although from a purely physical standpoint I would still really like to get out and get some more practice miles under my belt. Alas it does as ever come down to the quantity of free time available to me and as I have yet to perfect a method of being in two places at once I've just got to accept a few compromises with my preparation I suppose. It's just occurred to me that you're probably not reading this in order to hear a grown man complain (though if you are, might I take a moment to point out what an odd taste in reading material you have) so I'll concentrate instead on what I have actually accomplished rather than what I haven’t.

As you well know by now, I'm doing this challenge in order to raise money for Katharine House Hospice (though I must confess that my own ambition to walk the weather map is also a factor) so to try to drum up some support from the fine people of Stafford I penned a letter to all the local papers with the hopes that they would stick a mug shot of yours truly and a few well chosen words in their next publication. At the time of writing only the Stafford Chronicle have had the excellent judgement to take me up on this tempting offer though I'm hoping to turn on the charm (if I can remember how that is) and talk my way into a few others before setting off. As far as I can remember Monday morning was the first press interview I've ever had and it was certainly my first photo shoot. I'm generally one of those people who is happier to be behind the camera rather than in front of it, so having to strike a variety of poses for the photographer whilst passing shoppers tried to figure out who I was supposed to be, was a slightly uncomfortable experience. I think it’s the smiling that I have a problem with. Look at a selection of pictures of my good self and on the vast majority I will be wearing the same sort of impassive expression. This has nothing to do with my mood at the time of the shot, but is more to do with the fact that any time I attempt to force a smile for the sake of photographic posterity I invariably come off looking either hopelessly vacant or worryingly sinister. It was with some trepidation then that I searched for my article in the latest issue of the paper wondering which side of the scale I was going to land on this time. It may sound a bit vain, but I was nonetheless pleasantly surprised then to find that the picture was actually not too bad (I suppose that’s the difference a professional photographer makes) however such relief was short-lived when I read the accompanying caption declaring the fund raising trek of a "Mr Chris Perry". Better luck next time I suppose.

It's official, I now have reached the point where I have more equipment than I can fit into the pack that I'm attempting to carry it in. Up until last weekend even fully packed my bag was worryingly empty considering the length of the journey I've got ahead of me. That is definitely not the case any longer and I've been forced to look at my assembled possessions with a "what do I need" rather than a "what do I want" perspective. To be fair to myself (and I'm writing this so why would I be anything else) pretty much everything I've bought is safely in the essential pile and it’s really only my clothes that have been trickier to categorize. The tricky part is trying to decide how many days I can cope with looking/smelling like Tarzan before I reach somewhere with laundry facilities and make myself presentable again. This isn't helped by the fact that I have always sweated like a beast during any form of exercise and when you add a weighty 70 litre rucksack into the mix my chances of being arrested for vagrancy on my travels are looking high.

Now that I've finally got all of my gear together, I thought it was well past time I throw it all into my bag and try carrying it across the countryside for a bit. I reckon the only way I'm going to be able to get an idea of how much weight I'm going to want strapped to my back for three months (if you're curious, none at all would be my ideal answer) is to go ahead and try it as many times as I can in advance. So with my folks in tow, we decided to spend Sunday walking another small section of my route for the summer, namely Shugborough to Penkridge. I've done this walk before and I can see myself doing it a few more times yet before the 21st. At a little over 10 miles it’s hardly a mammoth trek but it's long enough to get the blood pumping and strengthen up my legs a fraction more. As a training walk, probably the best selling point in my opinion is that it has a little bit of everything, woodland and hills on the chase, roads and fields around Bednall and canal towpaths into Penkridge. Given that this was the first walk with everything I intend to take with me on the LEJOG I wasn't really sure what to expect and more importantly whether my back and knees would protest about the extra strain. I was really pleased (and a little suprised) then when we reached Penkridge and I still felt pretty fresh. I know it was a short day in comparison to some of the 20-21 milers ahead but hopefully by the time I get to the longer days I will have had a chance to build up some strength on the trail. Besides I'm not attempting to break any records, and if I feel that I need an hour or two resting my legs in the pub half way through one of the longer stretches then I shan't hesitate to do so. After all, it would be rude not to sample the local beverages of the places I pass through now wouldn't it.

Cheers

A Blizzard, A Stroll And An Improvised Shortcut

2008-04-11T19:37:00.018+01:00

Hey all,

Wow. Time really does seem to be zooming along at the moment, I find it hard to believe that it’s already been over a week since my last post but the calendar is determined to prove otherwise. The weather on the other hand appears to have lost its calendar altogether and after careful consideration has decided that it's now winter. I was somewhat surprised therefore when I drew back my curtains on Sunday to find that someone had stolen my fine spring morning and replaced it with a winter wonderland. Still, on the plus side the sun was out and it wasn't raining for a change so I figured I might as well grab my rucksack, pull on the boots and go for a trundle around Cannock Chase.

I'm quite fond of Cannock Chase. Not only because it's a lovely place for a stroll that's right on my doorstep but also because I've been walking up at the Chase with my family since I was a kid. I remember my dad used to drag my brother and me for a ramble every Christmas Eve in a valiant but vain attempt to wear us out so that he and my mum could enjoy a bit of a lie-in come Christmas Day. Another family favourite is a short stroll from the Punch Bowl (car park in a little valley) to the stepping stones (speaks for itself really) which is only a couple of miles at most but has nonetheless been the Sunday afternoon walk of choice in our family for years. That being the case there was really only one place for me to tromp about amongst the snow and so I shrugged into my pack (it's slowly getting heavier as I acquire more gear though for the time being it's still quite acceptable) and set out along the usual trail.

It was one of those walks where I didn't really have a plan, though a quick glance at the map provided me with a vague circuit of seven or eight miles which I figured would be ideal. I was quite content just to wander along at my own pace and enjoy the snow covered landscape before me. I found myself contemplating what exactly it was about snow that makes everyone into a budding photographer. There's no denying that a snowy scene can be exceedingly photogenic but after dodging around my forth camera tripod (conveniently set up in the middle of the path for maximum annoyance) I did begin to wonder whether I'd accidentally wandered into an outdoor photography convention. Such was my musing on the snow's appearance that I totally failed to spot the fact that it is also rather adept at concealing the various tracks and trails criss-crossing my route. This fact was hammered home rather effectively however when it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't seen another person in about 20 minutes (the Chase is something of a magnet to outdoorsy types on a nice day) and whilst I wasn't lost I also had no idea where I was going. A hasty consultation of the map later, I had a plan to rejoin the trail.

I'd take the next path to the right and join up with the main road that I knew was running vaguely parallel to my route somewhere just out of sight (I could hear the occasional traffic quite clearly so I knew it was probably only a mile at most). I could then follow the road to the next junction where I could pick up another trail to take me along a winding stream and back into familiar territory. It started promisingly enough, the next path I took was wide, clear and most importantly heading in the right direction. Sadly said path also thought it would be amusing to lead me the brink of the road without a hitch and then dump me unceremoniously in an overgrown copse of trees. I wasted the next 20 minutes trying to find a way around the obstruction before finally losing patience and battering my way directly through the stubborn undergrowth whilst the snow from the branches above battered its way directly down the back of my shirt. It must be said that despite this little hiccup the rest of the walk went like clockwork. I found the next path a little further down the main road as I had expected and after a brief moment where I thought I had gone astray once again the little stream appeared from under its snowy blanket and led me all the way back to the stepping stones. Not a particularly strenuous walk really, but every mile I get in my boots makes them that little bit more comfortable which is going to pay dividends when I hit the trail for real.

Speaking of hitting the trail, I've now finally pinned down a start date for this little adventure after spending forever trying to find the best way to dodge around the bank holiday. I shall be setting off from Land's End on the 21st May with the hope of arriving in John O' Groats some 91 days later on the 19th August (though this will no doubt alter once I get under way). This gives me little over 5 weeks before the big day which is not much time at all given how the past week has flown by. It has however allowed me to add a bit more structure to my itinerary to the extent that I think it's ready for its first public appearance. What follows is my plan as it stands at the moment although until I stagger into John O Groats in August it should really be considered a work in progress. Still, it should give you some idea of where I will be and when, so if you fancy joining me for a day or two you'll know vaguely where to look.

Until next time folks.

LEJOG Itinerary

21/05 - Day 1: Land's End -> Penzance (9.5 mi)
22/05 - Day 2: Penzance -> Pengoon Farm (13.5 mi)
23/05 - Day 3: Pengoon Farm -> Carnon Downs (12.5 mi)
24/05 - Day 4: Carnon Downs -> Carnon Downs (0 mi)
25/05 - Day 5: Carnon Downs -> Trekenning (17 mi)
26/05 - Day 6: Trekenning -> St Breward (17.5 mi)
27/05 - Day 7: St Breward -> Five Lanes (12 mi)
28/05 - Day 8: Five Lanes -> Five Lanes (0 mi)
29/05 - Day 9: Five Lanes -> Roadford Lake (17 mi)
30/05 - Day 10: Roadford Lake -> Bridestowe (11.5 mi)
31/05 - Day 11: Bridestowe -> Venton (13 mi)
01/06 - Day 12: Venton -> Salmonhutch (12.5 mi)
02/06 - Day 13: Salmonhutch -> Salmonhutch (0 mi)
03/06 - Day 14: Salmonhutch -> Tiverton (13.5 mi)
04/06 - Day 15: Tiverton -> Taunton (20 mi)
05/06 - Day 16: Taunton -> Street (20 mi)
06/06 - Day 17: Street -> Radstock (18 mi)
07/06 - Day 18: Radstock -> Radstock (0 mi)
08/06 - Day 19: Radstock -> Bath (12 mi)
09/06 - Day 20: Bath -> Tomarton (13.5 mi)
10/06 - Day 21: Tomarton -> North Nibley (15 mi)
11/06 - Day 22: North Nibley -> Painswick (15.5 mi)
12/06 - Day 23: Painswick -> Cheltenham (11 mi)
13/06 - Day 24: Cheltenham -> Tewkesbury (10 mi)
14/06 - Day 25: Tewkesbury -> Tewkesbury (0 mi)
15/06 - Day 26: Tewkesbury -> Worcester (14 mi)
16/06 - Day 27: Worcester -> Stourport (14 mi)
17/06 - Day 28: Stourport -> Kinver (13 mi)
18/06 - Day 29: Kinver -> Brewood (18.5 mi)
19/06 - Day 30: Brewood -> Stafford (14.5 mi)
20/06 - Day 31: Stafford -> Stafford (0 mi)
21/06 - Day 32: Stafford -> Uttoxeter (15.5 mi)
22/06 - Day 33: Uttoxeter -> Fenny Bentley (14.5 mi)
23/06 - Day 34: Fenny Bentley -> Blackwell (16.5 mi)
24/06 - Day 35: Blackwell -> Edale (12 mi)
25/06 - Day 36: Edale -> Crowden (16 mi)
26/06 - Day 37: Crowden -> Crowden (0 mi)
27/06 - Day 38: Crowden -> Standedge (11 mi)
28/06 - Day 39: Standedge -> Hebden Bridge (17 mi)
29/06 - Day 40: Hebden Bridge -> Cowling (10 mi)
30/06 - Day 41: Cowling -> Malham (16 mi)
01/07 - Day 42: Malham -> Malham (0 mi)
02/07 - Day 43: Malham -> Horton (13 mi)
03/07 - Day 44: Horton -> Hawes (12.5 mi)
04/07 - Day 45: Hawes -> Keld (12.5 mi)
05/07 - Day 46: Keld -> Middleton (18.5 mi)
06/07 - Day 47: Middleton -> Langdon Beck (7.5 mi)
07/07 - Day 48: Langdon Beck -> Langdon Beck (0 mi)
08/07 - Day 49: Langdon Beck -> Dufton (12 mi)
09/07 - Day 50: Dufton -> Alston (19 mi)
10/07 - Day 51: Alston -> Greenhead (15 mi)
11/07 - Day 52: Greenhead -> Stonehaugh (14 mi)
12/07 - Day 53: Stonehaugh -> Bellingham (8 mi)
13/07 - Day 54: Bellingham -> Bellingham (0 mi)
14/07 - Day 55: Bellingham -> Cottonshopeburnfoot (13 mi)
15/07 - Day 56: Cottonshopeburnfoot -> Jedburgh (18.5 mi)
16/07 - Day 57: Jedburgh -> Melrose (16 mi)
17/07 - Day 58: Melrose -> Melrose (0 mi)
18/07 - Day 59: Melrose -> Innerleithen (18.5 mi)
19/07 - Day 60: Innerleithen -> Peebles (9 mi)
20/07 - Day 61: Peebles -> West Linton (15 mi)
21/07 - Day 62: West Linton -> Edinburgh (18.5 mi)
22/07 - Day 63: Edinburgh -> Edinburgh (0 mi)
23/07 - Day 64: Edinburgh -> Beecraigs (21.5 mi)
24/07 - Day 65: Beecraigs -> Beecraigs (0 mi)
25/07 - Day 66: Beecraigs -> Kilsyth (20 mi)
26/07 - Day 67: Kilsyth -> Drymen (20.5 mi)
27/07 - Day 68: Drymen -> Drymen (0 mi)
28/07 - Day 69: Drymen -> Rowardennan (14 mi)
29/07 - Day 70: Rowardennan -> Inverarnan (12.5 mi)
30/07 - Day 71: Inverarnan -> Tyndrum (10.5 mi)
31/07 - Day 72: Tyndrum -> Kingshouse (17 mi)
01/08 - Day 73: Kingshouse -> Kinlochleven (9 mi)
02/08 - Day 74: Kinlochleven -> Kinlochleven (0 mi)
03/08 - Day 75: Kinlochleven -> Fort William (15.5 mi)
04/08 - Day 76: Fort William -> South Laggan (19 mi)
05/08 - Day 77: South Laggan -> Invermoriston (14 mi)
06/08 - Day 78: Invermoriston -> Invermoriston ( 0 mi)
07/08 - Day 79: Invermoriston -> Drumnadrochit (14 mi)
08/08 - Day 80: Drumnadrochit -> Inverness (19 mi)
09/08 - Day 81: Inverness -> Inverness (0 mi)
10/08 - Day 82: Inverness -> Dingwall (15.5 mi)
11/08 - Day 83: Dingwall -> Alness (9 mi)
12/08 - Day 84: Alness -> Dornoch (20 mi)
13/08 - Day 85: Dornoch -> Dornoch (0 mi)
14/08 - Day 86: Dornoch -> Brora (19 mi)
15/08 - Day 87: Brora -> Helmsdale (10 mi)
16/08 - Day 88: Helmsdale -> Dunbeath (15 mi)
17/08 - Day 89: Dunbeath -> Dunbeath (0 mi)
18/08 - Day 90: Dunbeath -> Wick (21 mi)
19/08 - Day 91: Wick -> John O' Groats (17.5 mi)

A Job, A Job and A Few More Jobs

2008-04-03T19:51:00.018+01:00

Hey Folks,

Yes it’s that time again! We've made it into April and the blog is well overdue another update I suspect. What have I been up to then? Well the short answer I suppose would be working, but whilst this may indeed be an easier and more accurate summation of the last few weeks it hardly makes for an interesting read now does it. In order to completely ignore the work based shenanigans I’ve been enduring since my previous post, I've decided instead to use this entry to try and organise my exponentially expanding "to-do" list into some semblance of order.

The upside of entering the month of April is that we can now enjoy lighter evenings and (in theory) some respite from the wintry weather, the downside is that it means I now have less than two months to try and get everything sorted before I hit the trail. This might seem like a long time and in terms of hours/days I suppose it is, but throw in a full time job and a multitude of house warming parties that require my presence (why have you all chosen April as the month to move!) and it suddenly becomes no time at all. This time deficit is further compounded by the seemingly unending quantity of tasks I appear to have left to do. Every job that I complete seems to somehow spawn two further jobs and I find myself thinking that if only I could replicate this technique with £10 notes then perhaps I could pack in the job and actually have time to do some planning. Hmm, I've just noticed that I seem to be moaning a lot this evening. Apologies, I shall henceforth attempt to be relentlessly chipper, well at least for the remainder of this blog entry anyway. So without further ado, my to-do list as it stands at the mo:

-Gear

Whilst less is most definitely more on a trip of this nature, my current pile of equipment is bordering on the ambitious side of minimalist. In no particular order, I still need:

- Backpack (I have one on loan from my brother but I suspect it may be a bit on the heavy side)
- Waterproof cover (for said backpack)
- Sewing kit (with so few clothes repair might be the only option)
- Compass (on order)
- Lighter/flint/matches (also on order)
- Emergency survival gear (blanket, whistle, first aid etc)
- Hydration pack (on order)
- Camping food
- Batteries
- Diary
- Youth Hostel membership (not really gear but I need it regardless to save a few pennies)
- Light weight trousers
- Waterproof trousers
- Gaiters
- Light weight shirts
- Printed shirt with 'Rambling Man' logo (has to be done for full cheesy photograph effect)
- Fleece/Jacket/Jumper
- Walking socks
- Bandanna's (got to love the pirate look)
- Gloves
- Smarter shirt (for evenings in the pub)
- Spare shoelaces
- Toiletries
- Water purifying tablets
- Sleeping bag (this is next on my list if I can find one that doesn't require a mortgage)
- Pillow
- Roll mat (on order)
- Gas for stove
- Mug for tea (most important item in the list probably)
- Midge repellent
- Sunscreen

There's probably stuff I've forgotten, but hopefully it will occur to me at some point before I reach Land's End.

- Accommodation

Thanks to the Easter break I now have my list of places to stay each night but I've yet to book any of them. To be honest, I can't really book more than 10 days in advance (and probably less than that) as until I get out on the trail it's very difficult to anticipate when I'll feel like a day off from the walking. Of course, taking a day off at some point will bugger up the schedule for any accommodation I've booked in advance so I'm a bit stuck in that regard. The problem is that some parts of my route follow the popular national trails such as the Pennine Way or Cotswold Way and the quantity of hikers on these during the summer months means that accommodation can get pretty busy. I therefore have two options as I see it, I can either a) book the place and risk losing my deposit if I get delayed on route or b) not book it and risk finding the only place within walking distance already crammed to the rafters with weary ramblers. Decisions Decisions.

- Maps/Food Parcels

As you know from the last post, my maps all sorted but given that I have 54 of them and I'm not quite insane enough to try and carry them all at once, I need to find someway of picking up fresh bundles at regular intervals across the country. The best idea that has been suggested is to work out which ones I'll need between consecutive B&B's and mail the appropriate bundle in advance to be collected as I pass through. This does of course assume the co-operation of the B&B owner and doesn't take into account the potential for packages to go astray in the post, but it’s still the best idea I've heard thus far. Whilst I'm doing this I might as well do the same with food parcels and then at least I'll know I have a stash of supplies every week or so which should take the pressure off trying to find a handy Tesco's in amongst the Pennines.

- Fundraising

I'm sure you’re aware by now that one of the goals of this little jaunt of mine besides the satisfaction of achieving it, is to raise a good chunk of money for Katharine House Hospice. My target is £1000 though at the time of writing I'm a mere 6% of the way there (come on folks break out the card and do your bit for a good cause!!) so there's still plenty of work to be done on that front. I had my first meeting with Adele over at the hospice the other evening and with her help we've come up with a few ideas for trying to exceed that £1000 target. I've now got a list of contacts for the local papers/magazines and hopefully if they're interested I might be able to spread the word and grab a few more donations from the locals. Adele has also kindly agreed (cheers Adele by the way) to get hold of a Katharine House tee shirt for me to wear on my travels. So if you see an unkempt figure go trundling by with a hospice shirt on, be sure to flag me down and add your name to the sponsors list.

- Training

This one needs no real description, I'm going to have to walk a long way this summer and hence I really need to get used to walking a long way before then. The problem is not a lack of enthusiasm (I love to walk, hence the whole 3 month walk thing) or a lack a places to do it, but simply a lack of time. I've read now on numerous blogs that the best advice is to go on a good long multiple day hike in the weeks leading up to your departure. It seems these people either have incredibly understanding employers or else they have rather more resources to fall back on than I do myself. In the weeks leading up to 'my' departure I shall be busy beavering away at the office trying to gather the money to fund this little expedition, so I think I'll have to settle for regular evening/weekend walking instead.

- Blogging

I've decided that I need to be stricter with myself in terms of the frequency of my blog posts. From now on I'm going to try and get at least one post a week and given each post essentially takes up a whole evening in itself, that might be a tall order. I'm not increasing the workload out of pure masochistic insanity but rather I think that this is probably the best way to prepare my muse for the task ahead. I also need to try out the ghost writing system I've arranged with my family to make sure everything's going to work properly and keep you all abreast of my experiences as I meander up the country (albeit a week or so behind the event). That being the case you can expect to enjoy (well you never know) even more rambling accounts over the next couple of months.

So there you have it. Not too much to do really (gulp) though I feel certain that there are still things missing from the list but I'm sure they will reveal themselves at the least convenient moment. If anyone has any suggestions then please don’t be shy about hitting that comment button and letting me know, I'd certainly appreciate the advice.

That’s all for now.

Stay tuned folks.

A Show, A Tent and An Empty Wallet

2008-03-26T20:33:00.015Z

Evening all,

Belated "Happy Easter" to you all! Hope everyone has managed to kick back and recharge the batteries a bit over the bank holiday despite the miserable weather. I was planning to get out to the Peaks and do a spot of walking/camping for a few days but the thought of putting up my tent in the snow rather put me off I'm afraid. To those of you who rather pessimistically see this as a lack of commitment to my project, let me remind you that I haven’t actually started yet, so if I decide to stay indoors a scoff down chocolaty Easter egg goodness rather than tromp around the countryside in a blizzard I think I'm well within my rights to do so. That said the inclement weather may have been a blessing in disguise as it forced me to put away my boots and break out my hoard of maps and crack on with a job I've been putting off for far too long.

I decided early on that rather than winging it this summer, I'd prefer to cobble together some sort of route plan before I actually set off. That's not to say that my path won't alter once I hit the trail, as I'm fully expecting to get lost, delayed and if last 'summer' is anything to go by, forced to navigate around flooded sections of the route. However having a battle plan before setting off will at least give me realistic targets for each day and it means I can book my accommodation a bit in advance and avoid any overnighters in the local bus stop. With the benefits clear then, why should I put such a task in my ever expanding 'to-do' pile? I suppose it's partly down to laziness, but before you turn away in disgust please bear in mind with a journey of 1100 miles over 54 1:25,000 OS maps through some of the more remote parts of the country, finding a chain of suitable accommodation within walking distance of each over is far from a ten minute task. In fact it has taken pretty much every waking hour of my four day Easter holiday to finish, but finish it I did and to be entirely honest I'm quite glad it’s over. Now I've just got to give my chosen establishments a call for current prices, availability etc but the hard part is out of the way at least. I'll try to find some way of posting up my tentative itinery on here somewhere, that way if any of you fancy joining me for a day or two on my ramble then you'll have a vague idea of where I'll be and when.

Now that I've finished boring you into a coma about all things map related (having spent so much time on the sodding things I thought it at least merited a mention here) I can mix things up a bit and bore you about something else. Namely my trip with my mate Rob to The Outdoor Show at the NEC a couple of weeks ago. I'm sure some of you may have been to one of these shows in the past, but if you haven’t then I'd definitely recommend going along for a look if you get the chance next year. Given the sheer size of the place, and the variety of exhibitions on display it would be pretty much impossible to not find something you're at least remotely interested in. My plan for the day given my impending trek was to have a good rummage though the hiking stalls and stores and try to get some ideas of suitable clothing and equipment to accompany me on my journey. Rob being an outdoorsy type chap and also rather more knowledgeable about hiking gear than myself, agreed to join me for the day and give me some pointers. It must be said that as I was there for ideas, I had no intention of actually purchasing anything but despite this I somehow came away with a new pair of walking trousers, a fancy new tent and a sharp pain in my wallet. In my defense, I was offered a special 10% 'show discount' and given that I'm planning on a whole lot of camping in the near future I thought I may as well break out the cash now as later and at least I'll be able to practice lugging it about on my next few walks.

Thankfully, I was soon distracted from musing about the health of my bank balance and whether I would actually be able to afford to eat for the rest of the month by the lure of the 'hands on' displays. Much like the exhibits these activities came in all shapes and sizes from climbing walls to makeshift diving pools, though the most entertaining in my opinion was probably one of the simplest. Slack lining, (effectively tight rope walking with a wide belt instead of a rope) was suprisingly good fun, though I can think of few quicker ways of breaking an ankle or a neck especially if I'm involved in any way. Despite the risk we both thought that as we were passing it would be rude not to join the line and give it a try. From the photo's you can clearly see that Rob (above), having done this sort of thing before was actually pretty good (yes I realise he's still standing on the box in the picture, just take my word for it) whereas my own attempts (below) were somewhat less elegant.

Having survived unscathed we moved on to the Ireland stand (pretty much every country had a stand somewhere in the hall) where we were drawn in with the chance of winning a shiny new mountain bike on their racing bike simulator. To be fair to the guy running the competition he did make it clear that their fancy simulator was not your run of the mill gym bike and that we might find it rather harder than it appeared. Now whilst I'm certainly no marathon runner I try to keep myself reasonably fit and so with a large measure of bravado and despite the warning I scoffed at the suggestion that a couple of miles on the bike would be any hardship. Two minutes later I was rummaging hastily through my bag for my water bottle whilst trying desperately to catch my breath and two minutes after that, Rob was likewise engaged. To give him credit the guy refrained from a snide "I told you so" but his look frankly said it much more succinctly. To those of you left wondering, no we did not win the bike.

Changing the topic completely, those of you who are paying attention may have noticed a few changes to the blog recently. I now have a nice map showing my proposed route which was unabashedly pinched from Mark Moxon's excellent site (link can obviously be found in my links list) which I would thoroughly recommend a visit to if you find yourself with the internet and a spare five minutes. One major new addition that I'm sure you've already noticed, is the shiny new link to my sponsorship page which can be found in pride of place at the top of the page. I suggest that each and every one of you give that handy 'Donate' button a bit of a click and have a little shufty at my newly set up Just Giving page. I've set myself a target to raise £1000 for Katharine House Hospice and with your generosity and assistance I'm hoping we can exceed that figure before the completion of my trundle in August/September. Now I realise my donations page says it all really, but this is important so it's worth reiterating here. Please, please, please show your support for my challenge this summer by heading on over there and donating whatever you can afford to those who need it most. I would also ask that anyone reading this please implore your family, friends and works colleagues to join you with donations of their own. A penny a mile (£11) or even a single pound, can and will make a difference so please dig deep, spread the word, and do your bit for an excellent cause.

Until next time,

Thanks Folks

Boots, Blisters And A Wayward Pint

2008-03-13T18:58:00.013Z

Hullo again folks.

First off apologies for the absence of posts for the last few weeks, especially given that I promised to up date you with random nonsense on a regular basis. In my defence I've been pretty busy recently and when trying to decide between actually getting some sleep and updating my ramblings, poor old Mr Blog is inevitably going to end up with a bad case of negligence. On the plus side, by August you're all going to be pretty sick of reading about my exploits so consider this somewhat disjointed blogging phase my way of easing you in. You're Welcome.

So I've been busy then have I? Easy thing to say I suppose and certainly the best excuse I can come up with after a long day at work. Nonetheless it's actually a pretty accurate description of the last few weeks of my life, though when trying to work a full time job and prepare for a three month mammoth trek (sadly without the mammoths) I should probably expect to be a little busy. To make matters even more complicated for myself I've spent the last couple of weekends moving out of my awesome little country retreat and back to the comfort of home. I'm a bit sad to be leaving the place, but it's been a great little pad for the last 6 months and if I'm going to save a few more pennies before the summer I really can't be affording to pay half my salary in rent every month. Despite the move, route planning, birthday celebrations (yes I'm talking about you Gaz) and general weekend jobs, I've still managed to find a bit of time to get out into the countryside and break in my fancy new boots.

Most of you I'm sure have at some point purchased or had purchased for them a new pair of shoes. You will know full well then that breaking-in the aforementioned footwear is not a task to be relished and in my opinion is one of the best arguments against shoe shopping besides its overwhelming tedium (sorry girls but its true). Walking boots being generally studier than your average pair of trainers require considerably more miles of tramping before they mould themselves to the shape of your feet. My boots in particular seem to have taken this period of shape transition as a personal affront to their dignity and as a form of protest have taken it upon themselves to shred my feet to buggery. Next time I plan to walk this sort of distance I think I'll get myself a pair of flip flops!!

Despite the blisters, I've managed to get through my first proper practice weekend relatively unscathed. Those of you who expected my lack of any apparent sense of direction to be an issue (and I would count myself within that group) will be disappointed to hear that the OS maps appear to be fairly idiot proof and apart from a short detour at one point I found my way without major incident. This was probably somewhat aided by the fact that I decided for my first practice weekend I'd stick to one of the way marked national trails and given that I live in Stafford, the Staffordshire Way seemed to be the obvious choice. Also, as my End to End walk in the summer will be taking in much of the Staffordshire Way on its journey through the Midlands I already had the maps tucked away in my collection.

The plan for the day was a trek of roughly 14 miles from the outskirts of Uttoxeter across country to the residence of Lord Lichfield at Shugborough. I must admit I was a little nervous at first as my folks dropped me off in the suburbs of Uttoxeter. All I had was a couple of bottles of water, a bundle of tracker bars (see my Tracker Tracker) and my map and whilst this was hardly going to be a trek through the Sahara or Amazon rainforest, I've not really had to rely on my own map reading before and I didn't really want to end the day in Plymouth. After crossing the first few fields and stiles my worries had pretty much disappeared, the Staffordshire Way is fantastically well way marked (at least the bits I've walked thus far have been) and seeing that marker on the gate you think the map is pointing you towards is a huge confidence booster to the rookie navigator. The majority of the first half of this walk is across farmland, following hedgerows and field boundaries as it winds its way slowly south towards the village of Abbots Bromley. The views can't honestly be described as spectacular, but to someone who works in an industrial estate, the wild hedgerows and deserted woodlands were pretty enough and served as a good reminder that there is still a lot of green places in this country if you get off the beaten track.

Unfortunately the one downside of spending a morning rambling across fields and over stiles is that by the time I arrived in the village of Abbots Bromley for a spot of lunch I looked less like an adventurous hiker and more like the local vagrant. Of course I then compounded my outcast status by entering the first pub I came to and being confronted by room full of happy families, smartly attired and enjoying a well deserved weekend lunch out. It was a little bit like you see in the westerns where a stranger enters the saloon and the conversation in the room dies as all eyes are turned towards the door. Of course the conversation soon started up again as I took a seat at the only single table in the place though now I felt certain it was mostly centred around the filthy hobo who had wandered into their midst and interrupted their lovely meal. I obviously took the English response to this situation and pretended like nothing was amiss, though this was made somewhat harder moments later when I took off my coat and flung my freshly purchased pint off the table and all over the floor. Once again the room went silent and I could feel the stares boring into the back of my head as I dabbed pathetically at the spillage with my elaborately folded napkin. The rest of my 'meal' was spent screwing my toes into the floor and trying to set a new record for the fastest consumption of a toasted sandwich.

Understandably I rejoined the trail with something of a relief after lunch and was happy to leave Abbots Bromley behind me which was something of a shame, as the village itself is exceedingly photogenic and I would have enjoyed exploring the place a little more extensively. But for now that would have to wait till I passed this way again in the summer I still had quite a way to go before I could stop for the day. The afternoon was a continuation of the farmland theme from the morning though it was broken up somewhat a couple of miles south of Abbots Bromley by Blithfield Reservoir where I spent a few minutes watching the windsurfers whizzing across the water when they weren’t busy falling off. After that, it was back to the fields and stiles and I found myself drifting off into a happy little walking trance only to find myself leaping twelve feet into the air seconds later as a loud explosion erupted from the middle of the field. Apparently the farmers of the Staffordshire have decided that the traditional scarecrows of the past no longer cut the mustard and have instead decided to fire off air cannons at random intervals to scare off the birds and give heart attacks to random passers by.

Fortunately I soon left the exploding farmland behind and joined the towpath of the Trent & Mersey Canal on the outskirts of Rugely. As I trundled along the towpath my map now largely redundant, I wondered why it is that the elaborately decorated and clearly well loved narrow boats were almost always tied up next to a rusting hulk in serious need of some TLC. Is it to make their own boats look better by comparison or do they hope to inspire the run down boats to turn over a new leaf and re-enter the 'civilised' world. I thought briefly of my incident at the pub at lunchtime and found myself quietly rooting for the rusty tub rather than its decadent neighbour. By this point the sun was starting to get quite low in the sky and whilst it wasn't dark yet I reckoned in another hour or so it would be. I had no intention of getting caught out in the dark and whilst I knew I was on the final straight I wasn't really sure how far down the towpath my destination lay. So I put my head down, ignored the growing pain in my feet and upped the pace. Of course having done this within twenty minutes I was crossing the bridge over the canal and into the grounds of shugborough and I couldn't help but feel my redoubled efforts a bit pointless. Ah well the important thing was that I had made it, and what’s more I had enjoyed it. This is just as well really as I've certainly got a lot more days like this one to come and without the luxury of a proper bed at the end of them, but its best to start easy and work up to that I reckon.

I also reckon that I've rambled on for far too long now and that you're probably getting a bit bored of reading by now so I'll be merciful and wind things up. Rest assured that once I'm on the road for real and writing my blog entry’s by torchlight in my tent they will be somewhat shorter and probably even less coherent if that’s possible. I'll be back with more ramblings in the next couple of weeks where I'll talk about my visit to the Outdoors Show at the NEC and a variety of other assorted nonsense

Until next time folks.

A Man, A Plan And A Box Full Of Maps

2008-02-12T19:22:00.003Z

Hi folks and welcome to my humble little blog. Most (if not all) already know me, but for those fortunate few who don't allow me to introduce myself. My name is Chris, I'm 23, I live in Stafford in the Midlands and I have a plan.

It all started the same way that many such schemes do, with a Friday afternoon daydream at work. We've all been there, it’s the end of a long week, the clock appears to have set up camp at 4:30 and the mind starts to wander in search of a mental shelter from the tedium. My refuge on this particular Friday was the view from the window of our stuffy office. Looking out beyond the industrial units and idling lorries of the estate I could just glimpse the hazy outline of green hills on the horizon. Anyone who has worked at a computer all day will vouch that at times the urge to abandon the thing and go stretch your legs is a hard one to resist and at that moment I would have liked nothing better than to strike out across country in search of those hills. Sadly my employers would probably have frowned upon an impromptu afternoon hike so I resigned myself to simply contemplating the logistics of such a trek. How many miles would it be? Could I walk it in one day? Come to think of it, just how far could I even walk in one day? Such questions eventually led to their inevitable conclusion: Could I, a relatively inexperienced hiker walk from one end of the country to the other? For most this would just be a fleeting thought no sooner dreamt up as dissipated but for some reason the question refused to stop circulating through my mind. Could I really do it?

I thought of my Granddad after he had completed the Coast to Coast with his mate Reg and his satisfaction at not only finishing, but doing so in well under the average time scale. I remember the fondness with which he used to talk about his exploits on the trail and I new that he for one would tell me to grab life by the scruff of the neck and run with it. So I did.

To cut a long story short, after a spot of internet research and a long conversation with my folks I became the proud owner of more ordinance survey maps than I'm certain is healthy for one individual to have. The reason for this cartographical extravagance was two fold;

First the route I had decided to take covers 54 1:25000 OS maps on its journey through the country and given my ability to get lost in even the most familiar setting I figured I would need each and every one of them to stand a chance.

Second I thought that the best way to invest myself in this endeavour was to 'invest' in the endeavour. There's no backing out when you've got a house filled to the brim with maps and the bill to go with it.

Now that there was no risk of backing out I started to form the framework of my plan. Going off recommendations from the web I decided to walk the route from Lands End to John O’ Groats otherwise know as the LEJOG, with an aim to start towards the end of May. The benefit of doing it this way around at this time is that I should miss the summer crowds of Cornwall and the weather should get more summery (though this is Britain so that’s all relative really) as I plod my way North where it is generally colder. Of course this does mean that I will be getting to Scotland bang in the middle of midge season but I’ll deal with those little buggers when I have to.

My next decision was who I should try to raise money for with this little adventure of mine. I’ve always wanted to do something for charity but besides for the occasional donation to children in need and a day dressed as a monk for comic relief when I was 10, I’ve yet to really contribute. With a challenge of this magnitude I think this is finally my opportunity to raise some serious cash for those who need it most. To that end, I’ve decided that I will be hiking this summer for the Katharine House Hospice in order to repay in some small way the excellent care that they gave to my own grandparents in their time of need as well as the hundreds of others that depend upon them each and every day. I implore each and every one of you to take 2 minutes out of your day and head on over to their site (linky is on the blog) and read for yourself about the work they do for the community. I shall be setting up the sponsorship in conjunction with Katharine House over the coming weeks, so when the opportunity comes I only ask that you spare what you can with the knowledge that every single penny is greatly appreciated.

So there I am, a man with a plan and a giant box of maps. Over the next few months I'll be hammering down my route, adding to my pile of equipment, and desperately trying to bash myself into shape before the big day. Along the way I’ll try my best to keep you up to date with my joys, sorrows and frustrations as I make the preparations for the longest walk of my life.

Until then, happy daydreaming to you all!