Well, today was a bit of a pivot point. I had to make a tough decision. But part of that included a really, really lovely 5 mile walk this morning over Hergest Ridge from Gladestry in Wales to Kington in England.
We woke up knowing there was no great rush as it would be a short walk, starting up to the almost 1400ft peak though so we were thankful the sky looked clear. It was a gradual climb, with pretty farms and working farmers with whose tractors we had to carefully share the small lanes. There were many dog walkers and a few other hikers, but mostly it was quiet on a wide green trail. It was a two hour walk along paths surrounded by low bracken, expansive views in all directions, grazing sheep of course, and a herd of wild horses. Another sweet foal! At the top there is a circle of monkey puzzle trees, a relatively recent addition to the landscape planted in 1987. As we walked we heard a distant cuckoo; first time I’ve heard one, and it does really sound like the eponymous clock. A short while later Rachel heard and then we spotted a skylark, its song strong and mesmerizing as it flew high above the hillside. All very exciting happenings up on the stark, beautiful ridge.
Eventually we walked down into Kington, a really pretty and interesting small market town in which I wish we had more time. But my plans had changed, and I left the Offa’s Dyke a day early in Kington. Rachel and I made it to town with ten minutes to catch the bus to the cathedral city of Hereford, from where we were going to catch a train to Oxford.
Last night was full of angst and planning as my blisters are not healing, and they are tripling up on each other so there are layers of pain and redness. We had a 14 mile day scheduled for tomorrow to get to Knighton, where Rachel was going to leave me. I had then a 7 day trek across Shropshire and Staffordshire to get to the Peak District to meet Bill who is flying over to join me for the Pennine Way. Those 7 days were going to be long ones, too. I discussed the situation with Rachel and Bill and went over many alternatives; ultimately I listened to my body and realized it needed time to heal. The Pennine Way is notoriously tough and its distance at 268 miles over wild and high terrain has to be respected. This is a big trip for Bill and me, a month on the trail together, and I don’t want to risk ruining it because my ego tells me I have to push through and not deviate from plans. It will be easier to return at some point to finish this week through the central counties of England more than any other part of the entire journey. And you know what? It’s only about 80 miles out of the entire 1500, so if I miss it out I’m not really that bothered. My health, relationship, and happiness are paramount. I am grateful for my flexibility.
I’m also endlessly grateful for the kindness of friends and relative strangers. This change of plans was made possible by our host at last night’s pub making last minute phone calls, doing research and getting her friends to help with luggage transport and transit connections. And of course Rachel’s generosity to invite me to her home in Oxford for a week’s recovery. I can’t think of a better place in which to heal! So, we started with a great walk (short enough to not upset my feet), then we took a bus, hopped on a train, and hailed a cab, to find ourselves at home with dinner waiting for us prepared by Rachel’s 23 year old son Jamie.
I thought I might learn much about myself on this 4 month walking journey, but the clearest thing I have learned over and over is that people are remarkably, astoundingly, deeply, and creatively kind. Beyond anything I could have imagined. With all the hard news swirling around, I am reminded every day of our great capacity for kindness. It gives me hope.
