Well, here we are again, at the beginning of another autumn, and indeed another walking year for our blog. Over the last three years, we have walked over eight hundred miles together, both near and far. We have climbed mountains, explored landscapes and spent many a happy hour in the company of our beloved High Weald (and of course each other). Looking ahead to what this, our fourth blogging year, will bring, well, there are a couple of new routes that I have already found to try out, hopefully a historic and poetic walk around the Cotswolds later this season and, all being well, we might just hit that one-thousand-mile marker, which would be quite the achievement. However, in the meantime, we are kicking things off with a big one – a return to the Bewl Water Circular. The reason for choosing this particular walk on this occasion was for its distance. This, combined with the pair of us taking our own pack each, should mimic the conditions for what is now just a week away…you hadn’t forgotten…had you?
And so, at a quarter to ten on a warm, sunny September morning, off we went again! The sun glinted off of the decidedly low-looking reservoir. Waterbirds floated on its gentle waves, as a stiff, pleasant breeze blew over its surface. Nestled to our left through the trees, we spotted Scotney Castle, something we had not noticed before. As the path led us beneath the trees at the water’s edge, we settled into the miles ahead. The more popular northern shore of Bewl Water is always busier, and we passed plenty of fellow walkers and cyclists throughout the first part of the day. Plenty of leaves already littered the floor, thanks in no small part to the extremely dry summer we are just coming out of, and the first few autumnal fungi had begun to appear. The route, whilst long, is relatively simple. It is flat and straightforward, meaning that the miles slipped beneath our feet at a decent rate, and we made good progress. We ticked off the handy mile markers one by one, and across the morning Beth spotted a Little Egret and also said that if I were a horse, then I would be a big, strong, Shire Horse; of course, I was rather pleased with the comparison.
We approached our favoured lunch spot, a little oak on the quieter southern shore, a bit shy of midday. However, with a long road stretch ahead with no sign of a suitable lunch spot for some miles, we plonked our backsides down a few minutes shy of midday. Leaving Beth to relax, I plodded the long way down to the retreated water, dipped a finger in and returned; by which point, it was time to eat. Now, many, many miles ago, regular readers (hi mum) will recall that Beth and I were collecting discarded wool from throughout the countryside during our walks, as decorations for our wedding. Of course, the wedding has since been and gone, we are now married, and we now have an abundance of wool hanging out in our house. The night before this particular walk, we decided it was time to set it free. So, across the next however many High Weald walks it takes, I will be taking a pinch of the wool and leaving it in our lunch spots, or a particularly picturesque spot, until all has returned to where it belongs, and a little of our wedding is sprinkled across the place we love. So, as we returned to our boots and reclipped our bags, I found myself holding a piece of wool which I had stashed away that morning. I placed it carefully amongst the roots of the oak and left it to enjoy the peace and quiet.
Back on the route, we left Bewl behind us for a while as we entered the road section. It was noticeably hotter straight away as we left the water’s side, and this stretch of country lanes, whilst quiet, was again busy with walkers and cyclists enjoying their Sunday. It also included a long downhill run, followed by a longer uphill stretch. I think we both found this tiring, and by the time we reached the top and level ground, we were both hot and in need of a drink. Our feet also began to ache on the continual tarmac, and we were both very pleased when we reached the path which would take us back down to Bewl.
We were both keen to come across one of the mile markers, after they had been absent for the last stretch. Both of us were pleased when we did finally see one, as it said, “10 miles down, 3 to go”, putting us a good couple of miles ahead of where we had thought we would be at that point in the day. This spurred us on into the last section of the day. We gratefully rounded the continual corners of the reservoir, many of which we could have cut today; I have to say, the water level was shockingly low, and a lot of land was visible that would normally be well-submerged. As we again approached the northern side and the visitors centre, the number of people increased, which was a sure sign of almost being back. We were grateful for this, as around now we both started to feel as though we were at the end of a long walk, and were ready to remove boots and bags. We plodded on, and returned to the car at half past two, meaning we had done the route in only four hours forty-five minutes – pretty good!
In terms of our two-bag experiment to mimic conditions (you hadn’t forgotten, had you?), both of us had done reasonably well. My left shoulder ached only a small amount, as did Beth’s back. Her knees had also coped well; however, both of us complained about sore feet. However, this can be explained by the path around Bewl Water, which is a mixture of pointy gravel, well-trodden and compacted hard tracks and straight-up concrete, which were all pretty relentless. I was also wearing very thin socks, which wouldn’t have helped – next time I will of course be wearing a thicker, more appropriate pair.
Now, drumroll please….
It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for.
A few weeks ago, on an unassuming Monday afternoon, I came up with an idea. That evening, I ran the idea past Beth. She said yes if the price was right. I spent the rest of that evening and the following morning working on ways to hit Beth’s budget, and as soon as I had achieved the goal, we booked time off. Tuesday evening, just over 24-hours after the initial thought, we booked all the necessities. And suddenly, another adventure was only weeks away.
Ladies and gentlemen, next weekend Beth and I will be heading up to the Yorkshire Dales. Whilst there, we will be undertaking our first long-distance walk together; 52 miles over the course of four successive days.
Up next, The Herriot Way.
Matthew G. Huggins 