Week 3 done! Roughly 220 miles walked, 19 days walking and 3 rest days. I adjusted my map to show the route so far. It’s not super accurate, but it gives you an idea of where I am. I’m at the beginning of a tough stretch: long days with hilly paths and roads. No break , 10 straight days. I’ll be walking out of Exmoor, through the Brendan Hills, the Quantock Hills, the Levels, and the Mendips to reach Bristol, cross the Bristol Channel and end up next Wednesday in Wales. I’m feeling a bit intimidated by the terrain and the effort. But can’t be helped, must be done.
And today was a confidence boost, so that’s helping to calm me. It was going to be many miles, and it turned out to be even more. 14.5 miles in just under 6 hours. I started early walking across a rather bleak portion of scrubland. But in the early morning light it had a certain peaceful beauty. Unfortunately I had been reading a Ramblers’ Association magazine last night and it airily mentioned three things you might see while out walking in April and May: two were pretty flowers, the other was a puff adder. I swear, I have never given a thought to snakes in England, and now every where I look there is some reference to their existence. I’m not generally afraid of snakes, like pet snakes I’ll hold. But in the wild, just popping out at you, and poisonous, and I’m all alone? That scares me. I decided I have two choices: 1) stop walking, or 2) do some research to help me deal with the reality of these snakes and their bites. I set off with knowledge of what they look like, where they hang out, why do people usually get bitten, and what to do if one is bitten.
At first I was kind of tense, making sure I was on the right route because the trail was not clear on the ground (it rarely has been on these local public paths, and that would be super true much of today; very different from the national and well marked coastal trail!) and I was hyper alert for likely snake hang outs. At some point, though, I realized that I was looking at beauty, that my breath was in rhythm with my steps, and my shoulders were relaxed. I didn’t even feel the 22+ pounds on my back. The fear ceased to grip me and I just enjoyed it all. And I saw a herd of Exmoor wild ponies.
This continued for the whole day. I walked off the moor and onto a roadway with no verge and cars zooming by; I’ve learned how to walk facing oncoming traffic and moving towards the center around blind turns with high hedgerows, waving my poles so drivers have sufficient time to slow and avoid me. I climbed over too many stiles to count, keeping my backpack on for the shoulder height climbs on narrow wooden planks, and I had to navigate a couple field gates that should not have been, but were locked. I walked down into and up out of a deep woodland that I think hasn’t seen a human walking through in a very long time; but there was a really cool vine covered stone building that looked like a mini castle down there. I found paths across fields with the help of Richard’s map route he had made for me (thank you!!) when there was no discernible footpath. I scared sheep, I talked to sheep, I walked beside sheep. I saw black sheep! I saw mailboxes from Queen Victoria’s reign, just built right into the side of someone’s house or a stone wall, and one from Queen Elizabeth II. I saw some really cool moss or lichen or both.
The environment changed to farmland and then to more woodlands, some with conifer trees. I passed through a small hamlet at lunchtime, and after enjoying the inside of its medieval 14th century church, sat on the even older 12th century base steps of its high cross to eat my cheese sandwich, apple and aero mint chocolate bar. I eventually walked into the village of Luxborough, took a shower at my Airbnb, then walked across the street to the very atmospheric and jolly 16th century Royal Oak Inn to enjoy the roaring fire in the enormous hearth and have sausages and mash for dinner. Local rabbit pie was on the menu, and venison from the woodlands, but I just couldn’t. I know sausages are no different, probably a weirder thing to eat really, but I’m used to them. I’m promising myself I’ll grow more adventuresome in these local pubs as the weeks come.
