Frome Valley Trail - Part 2 - Maiden Newton to Dorchester 25th August 2018

The day dawned bright and we rose bright and early ready for our adventure - part two of our Frome trail. We drove to Maiden Newton and parked at the station., then retraced our steps from the end of the walk yesterday to the familiar bridge where one of my first ever Dorset walks began.

Bridge over River Frome, Maiden Newton - SY5997

River Frome and photographer, Maiden Newton - SY5997

We've had many walks from Maiden Newton since that first one with the Dorset Walker and I have grown to love this little town, though I have never been in the cafe here (and think that every time we pass it!) It was a lovely day today and the Frome flowed contentedly on. There is something very soothing about a river, its calmness, reliability, its constancy, its energy, its gentle sounds, at least it was gentle today and we walked quite a bit by the Frome today.

We paid a brief visit to the church at Lower Frome Vauchurch, which is dedicated to St Francis.

St Francis' Church, Lower Frome Vauchurch - SY5997

There are two paths here, we took the one closer to the river (obviously).

The banks of the River Frome - SY6097

The river opens out in SY6096 and there are a couple of bridges to cross with a pawl and ratchet mechanism iron workings on to control the flow of water from the river into the watermeadows.

River Frome - SY6096

Pawl and ratchet mechanism on bridge over River Frome - SY6096

As we walked along the banks of the river, we saw a summer house on the opposite bank, which got us talking about having our own summer house, which led to confusion as I thought Paul meant our own summer house HERE - right here, by the Frome, so we could watch the River, hopefully the Kingfisher, Swans, dragonflies, water voles, herons, etc. "I like that idea," I said, immediately imagining idling away the hours watching wildlife from our own hide. "But will it be OK to just put one up here? Don't we need permission?"

"I meant in our garden!" Paul protested, looking quizzically at me. "But where will we put the river?" I objected.

River Frome near Cruxton, an ideal place for a summer house - SY6096

At Cruxton we crossed the Frome once more via a stone bridge, recalling the time when we'd had to sidle along the banks of the river to avoid walking past a bull who was blocking our exit.

Bridge over the Frome at Cruxton - SY6096

We'd now joined the Frome Cycleway which, as far as we can understand is part of the Frome Valley Way. As we walked I remembered that when I'd done my research for the walk, I'd googled the River Frome to see if there was already a walk along its length and discovered that it had only been done as far as Dorchester. When we started at Wareham last year, however, we saw signs for the Frome Valley Way, which made me think I'd obviously not read the most up-to-date information and I'd have to check again. I have and I had read the most up-to-date information which is obviously incorrect. I have since contacted Dorset County Council for clarification about this, so watch this space . . .

Our next landmark was Notton Farm, a huge building with arches to allow water to flow through in case of flood.

Notton Farm - SY6095

There's a bridge across the Frome here to join the A356, which is quite a good shortcut if you live here. The old sign on the bridge is a reminder of its relative antiquity, erected in days when 'traction engines' had not long superseded horse driven traffic and there was concern about the weight the bridge had to support. I think we could do with more such signs and restrictions about weight on roads in general given the size of some vehicles you see nowadays and the damage they do to the roads.

Notice on bridge at Notton - SY6095

At Throop, after ascending one of the only hills of the day (the other was Poundbury), we were reminded of the 'olden' days once more. The tractor on the right must be at least twice the size and weight of its older brother on the left!

The old and the new - tractors at Throop Farm- SY6195

We looked in vain for signs of an earthwork beyond Throop, but could see nothing obvious. At Nunnery Mead, however, there were more visible signs of a Roman villa and apparently a mediaeval village. We were a little deterred from visiting either, however, by the super inquisitive and stubborn flock of sheep which had chosen to use the gate as a scratching post and refused to budge.

Information board at Nunnery Mead Nature Reserve - SY6195

Stubborn sheep at Nunnery Mead - SY6195

On a previous visit we had attempted to walk round the nature reserve and get back onto the bridleway, but the paths through the reserve are very overgrown and we had had to give up and retrace our steps. It would seem that few people visit this reserve and that it receives little in the way of maintenance.

The green lanes between Throop and Southover are delightful, full of dappled shade and greenery today.

Green lane near Throop - SY6195

We were looking for somewhere to eat our lunch and commented on the dearth of benches along what was supposed to be a long distance path. There was simply nowhere out of Maiden Newton to sit, and I don't think we're fussy about where we sit either!

At Southover it is possible once again to cross the River Frome by means of a bridge and go into Frampton (Frome Town). We did not do so, but continued beyond Frampton House, which I didn't remember seeing before, despite several walks in the area.

Frampton House - SY6294

We stopped for lunch near here, making use of a fallen tree trunk to sit on. Several cyclists passed us and it was good to know this cycle way is being used. We hadn't long set off again when my attention was drawn to a herd of cows in the field next to the one we'd sat in. One cow was some way distant from the other and she was licking her new born calf. "She's only just given birth!" I declared, seeing the foetal sac still protruding from her rear end.

Cow and new-born calf - SY6294

We stood and waited for the calf to get onto its feet, but I reckon we had missed the birth by a matter of seconds and, being so brand new, it just wasn't ready to suckle yet. What a privilege to watch the gentle caring way this mother was attending to her baby and how sad that, being a dairy farm, the two would soon be separated. "Perhaps that's why the other cows are making so much noise," I suggested, "They're in mourning for their babies."

Having photographed the next few gridsquares, I went into relaxed mode until we came to Muckleford. Whilst I had photographed this gridsquare before (SY6493), we had never walked along the road we were walking on today. Paul had been reluctant to do so as there was hardly any verge and we didn't know how busy it was going to be. In the past we have gone through Muckleford Nature Reserve to Dorchester, but our mission today was to stick as close to the River Frome as possible, so we needed to walk along the road. "The Frome Valley Way goes this way," I reassured Paul as we saw the tell tale black arrow sign and then a few cyclists passed us as if to reinforce that reassurance.

Thatched cottage, Muckleford - SY6493

We decided to cross the river at Lower Wrackleford and were glad that the road was not too busy. We were distracted from worrying about the traffic in any case because of the discovery of wild hop growing here - in profusion!

Wild Hops near Bradford Peverell - SY6493

We wondered if there used to be breweries nearby to account for the proliferation of this well endowed shrub. It was everywhere, some male and some female, the coned version being the female.

Whilst Paul was enamoured by the hop, I was distracted by the appearance of the Roman Aquaduct. I'm fascinated by archaeology, although I know little about it. I love looking at the landscape through the eyes of a historian (the most amateur historian there is!) I love imagining the lives of those who once lived here, how their presence impacted the land and the wildlife. Where did they live? How did they work the land? Did they have the same worries as us? how did they spend their time? Travel? What did the landscape look like when the Romans were building their aquaduct and was the water used that of the River Frome? ("Of course," said Paul)

Roman aquaduct near Bradford Peverell - SY6493

Aside from the hops and the aquaduct, there were good views of the village of Stratton on the north banks of the Frome. This is a village I have yet to visit,by which I mean really, the church. That's how I measure whether I've been to a place in Dorset or not - have I visited the church? No matter that we've crossed the railway line west of the village and east of the village, there's about 100 yards in between where I've not actually been. And I don't have any reason other than visiting the church to do so for I have 'got' that gridsquare.

Stratton from near Bradford Peverell - SY6493

The aquaduct disappears into some trees but is never very accessible from the road; I'm not sure how you would access it.

Roman aquaduct near Bradford Peverell - SY6593

Whilst I have not visited the church at Stratton before, I have visited the one at Bradford Peverell before, so we were able to walk through the village without stopping.

Waterside, Bradford Peverell - SY6593

At Giles Cross we turned left to cross the River Frome and I took a photograph of the signpost with its attractive adornment of lichen.

Footpath sign at Giles Cross (the black arrow denoting the Frome Valley Way is visible beneath the yellow lichen pointing right) - SY6692

"I fancy a paddle," I said as we approached the River Frome. "It feels a fitting thing to do." Paul did not agree but took the obligatory photo.

Paddling in the River Frome - SY6692

I wasn't looking forward to walking along the A37 although we knew that's the way the Frome Valley Way goes. When we'd seen the long uphill climb from Giles Cross to Whitfield, we had made up our minds that we would rather walk along the A37 instead. A Painted Lady made up for an otherwise monotonous walk.

Painted Lady on A37

We passed a quaint little toll house which neither of us had noticed on many, many drives along this road.

Toll House on A37 - SY6792

"Our footpath is just after the toll house," I said, magnifying the screen on my phone so I could make absolutely sure I knew where it was supposed to be as that was another thing we hadn't noticed on previous occasions.

"There it is!" I said, pointing to a hidden footpath sign behind a crash barrier. "I think we've got to hop over the crash barrier to reach it." It took some time, but we managed to cross the road, hop over the crash barrier and that's where our real problem began. The footpath had obviously not been used in a very long time. "We should have brought the secateurs," we moaned as we trampled down briar and nettle. "I don't like not being able to see where I'm putting my feet," Paul said as he trod cautiously forward, clearing the way for me.

Fortunately we didn't have far to go before we reached a field which we crossed and then had to run for a few yards along the A37 before ducking down onto a bridleway near Whitfield Farm. Suddenly we were in the magical world of balsam. "This would be a nightmare for anyone who can't stand the smell of himalayan balsam," said Paul holding his nose. It's not my favourite smell in the world, but I can bear it. Good thing really as this field was awash with pink - a huge ecological problem to be sure.

The magical world of Himalayan Balsam - SY6791

River Frome near Whitfield Farm - SY6791

"Who would have thought this was here?" Paul asked as we gasped at the sheer and secret beauty of this place (despite the overpowering scent and presence of the balsam). We had discovered a little haven. The river flows on whilst the traffic of the modern day world literally drives over it, often oblivious to its presence. How often nature and the natural world is thus ignored and neglected - and often to our peril! We allowed the slow flowing waters and bird song to soothe us whilst we walked for soon we would be back into the hustle and bustle of a busy town.

When we reached the road we were in for another surprise in the form of a vineyard - D'Urberville's vineyard no less.

D'Urberville Vineyard, Whitfield - SY6791

We crossed the A37 by means of a bridge and quickly found the open access land at Poundbury where the Roman aquaduct is just visible.

Roman Aquaduct, Poundbury - SY6791

It's lovely walking across this ancient hill fort. At one time it would have been gleaming white when it was excavated for its purpose as a hill fort and now nature has taken over and it's a haven for rare butterflies like the Adonis Blue. I'd barely said to keep our eyes open for this butterfly when we saw one dazzling in the sunshine and being attacked by its cousin, the Common Blue. Sadly I didn't manage a good photo, but Paul did.

Adonis Blue, Poundbury - SY6891

The last thing of interest today was the ROC Post at Poundbury. This was more of interest to Paul than me. We had visited before if that's not an exaggeration. It is not possible to visit per se - you can only look at it nowadays, though there is a link to a blog by someone who has been down into the underground bunker here. Something Paul would love to do.

ROC Post, Poundbury - SY6891

We dragged our feet the last mile or so into Casterbridge or Dorchester where I insisted we partook of cake and tea at The Horse with the Red Umbrella so we listened to the owner chat away in Italian to a group of Italian tourists and munched on Danish Pastries and felt very cosmopolitan. We ran to catch the train and then realised there wasn't one and we would have to wait an hour. Never mind, we were fed and watered and sleepy and we'd had a very interesting and beautiful day.

Miles walked: 10.2
Number of new gridsquares: Possibly none
Number of newborn calves: 1
Number of bridges crossed: 8

Frome Valley Trail - Part 1 - Evershot to Maiden Newton - 24th August 2018

Having done part 4 of the trail last October (I can hardly believe it was that long ago), I thought it was high time we walked the rest of the trail so, when our original plans for the long weekend were thwarted, I devised this route instead. When I'd originally planned the route last year, I'd thought it could be done in three days, but that was a lot of rubbish; of course it couldn't. It needed four days and the logistics even then were complicated. After hours of drawing and redrawing routes, emailing potential B&Bs and agonising over the train timetables between Yeovil Pen Mill and Wareham, I came up with a workable route. This would involve us returning home each day and thus saving costs. All the B&Bs were full anyway and it worked out in our favour in the end because it rained all day Sunday so we would have been stuck in a B&B all day and that's just plain boring. It does mean that we'll have one section of the walk still to do, so watch this space . . .

I'd first walked some of this route in February 2015 before I started this blog and I'm not sure which walks I've done since which I've recorded on the blog, so I thought I might as well write up the walk here even though I didn't get any new gridsquares today. Besides it helps keep one's mind active when one remembers that one has to photograph every single gridsquare, featureful or featureless, exciting or boring.

We parked in Evershot, one of my top 10 Dorset villages if only because parking is easy and there are many walking opportunities from here. "Now, you might think the very first bit is gratuitous," I said to Paul as we started our walk along Back Lane. "But, although we're just going to do a circle of the village really, it's all necessary because we obviously need to start at the source of the River Frome." "Obviously," Paul agreed. "I just need to remember where that is," I added. I was feeling a little unsure; my memory does not serve me as well these days.

When we stumbled upon St John's Well, generally considered to be the source of the River Frome, I was taken aback. "But where's the information board?" I protested. "It was here last Christmas!" Or was I going mad? Had I simply imagined that there should be an information board here? Was my memory really that bad? "I'm sure it was here," I added staring at the spot where I'm sure the board was, willing it to reappear as if by magic.

We looked at the trickle of water which signified the Frome's humble beginnings and paused for a moment in reverence.

The source of the River Frome, St John's Well, Evershot - ST5704

"I know we've hardly begun our walk,but there's a bench here and we might struggle to find one later on, so I'm going to suggest having lunch here with the Frome." Paul readily agreed. We'd set off as soon as he'd returned from work (half day Friday), so it was already 1.30 pm. "After all it seems fitting to be spending a bit of time with the object of our walk," I justified our decision further as we munched on our cheesey topped ham rolls.

We then joined the Macmillan Way at the school and walked across a few uninteresting fields.

Towards Burl Moor, the Macmillan Way near Evershot - ST5703

The Macmillan Way - ST5703

We had done a butterfly scramble along part of this route a couple of years ago and recorded every single butterfly we saw. If we'd been doing that today it wouldn't have been too difficult; we hardly saw any.

"I can't remember where this path ends up," Paul said as we wandered through long grass following the hedge. "Fortunes Wood Farm," I replied. "It was really muddy last time we walked here."

Fortunes Wood Farm - ST5803

I was disappointed that we weren't walking closer to the river itself. I didn't like abandoning it; I wanted to watch it grow in volume and strength with all the tributaries that fed into it. But there were no rights of way any closer to the river, so we had to be content with our lot.

We walked across Chantmarle Moor to the old police training centre.

Chantmarle Moor - ST5802

When we approached a junction in the paths we noticed a signpost we'd not seen before, labelled in one direction - Chantmarle and in the other direction - Chantmarle (Dry route). "I didn't realise we'd been the dry route before," Paul noted. "Shall we try the wet route then?" I suggested. We decided to do so on the grounds that this might be the only chance we ever get if last year's winter was anything to go by!

Not the dry route - near Chantmarle- ST5802

 The path was still quite wet, so we were glad we'd done it. "We've added on about 50 yards to our walk," I laughed as we sloshed through the wet mud. "But it was worth it to remember the days of relentless mud!"

We did not linger at the old police training centre. We'd been here several times before so didn't bother doing a diversion to see the old mansion house. Instead we walked on to North Holway Farm and then onto Holway Farm where we'd stopped to eat our lunch on our butterfly scramble.

North Holway farm - ST5801

When we emerged at Sandhills I had a sudden moment of clarity. "I know where we are!" I exclaimed. "It's that junction that I always think we've got to turn off at." Paul stared at the signpost for a few seconds before the penny dropped. "Oh yes!" he agreed. "We came this way with the walking group one time." "Yes, it was one of my favourite walks," I recalled. "We ought to do it again soon."

Junction at Sandhills - ST5800

We turned off onto Wraxall Lane which is one of those delightful old green lanes which missed out on being tarmacadam-ed whenever the appropriate authorities decided which roads to tarmac and which to leave unmetalled. I'm glad they left this one unmetalled for it is one of my favourite green lanes in the county.

The Frome had gathered its tributaries and grown in volume by now.

River Frome near Wraxall - ST5800

Wraxall Lane - ST5800

The railway more or less follows the river Frome which is why this walk lends itself well to rail transport - you can get on and off at stations along the Frome Valley. We were walking now opposite Cattistock along a part of the walk that we thought may well have been new to us. It turns out it wasn't. We had done a Maiden Newton walk to Sydling St Nicholas in 2015 which had used this right of way.

I took a photo of Grove Stall Farm for the gridsquare (just in case).

Grove Stall Farm - SY5899

Then we were in Chilfrome where, according to the notice in the phone kiosk, the red telephone box has been so infrequently used that it was going to be taken away unless it was bought for the princely sum of £1. "The community must have bought it then," I said joyfully, "the notice is dated October 2016." I sincerely hope it has been bought and saved. Much of the gubbings of the phone had been taken away, leaving the phone impotent and futile. "A soulless phone box," I mused. Is that perhaps not worse than simply taking it away? I wasn't sure.

Chilfrome Phone box - SY5898

Payphone Kiosk removal notice, Chilfrome - SY898

Himalayan Balsam lined the banks of the Frome as it wended its way into Maiden Newton and then there was a rope swing dangling temptingly over a shallow portion of the river."I dare you!" I urged Paul, who was not to be so easily tempted.

Himalayan Balsam and the River Frome - SY5998

Rope swing near Maiden Newton - SY5998

When we reached the bridge across the Frome we were tempted to end our walk there and walk back up to the railway station but I suggested we walk on into the village. "Otherwise we'll have to do this bit tomorrow," I reminded Paul. So our feet took us along the chalk stream and up to the railway station where we had to wait for an hour and a half for the train.

We were entertained in our wait by one old lady and her grandchildren. On their way past the Help screen, the old lady pressed the green help button. "Do you wish to report an incident or get information?" came the immediate response. The old lady was clearly embarrassed. "Neither, sorry," and the old lady walked bashfully away. We couldn't work out why she had pressed it in the first place. She evidently hadn't expected a human response.

Later a man, wife and daughter joined us on the platform. Carrying a huge green and white umbrella to protect her coiffure and clothes, the daughter kept her distance, but her dad approached us with his handkerchiefed jacket and asked which train we were waiting for. "Mind your own plumby business," we answered - no, of course we didn't! We told him we were waiting for the Yeovil train, but his daughter was obviously embarrassed, "It says that here, daddy." We guessed she was on her way back to Bristol for university or something, though she had little luggage.

When the train eventually came she protested at her dad holding the umbrella over her head as she got into the train - "You're embarrassing me," and then she sidled into the furthest away seat she could find on the train while her parents walked the length of the train searching for her and, having found her, proceeded to wave frantically through the window. "I wonder who they are," I said. "From one of the posh houses around here," I answered my own question.

Our walk was far from over. As the rain fell we walked the three miles from Chetnole back to our car at Evershot, disconsolate, tired and almost silent. It had been a long day but the journey to the mouth of the Frome had begun.

Number of miles walked: 6.3 (Evershot to Maiden Newton) Plus 3 Chetnole to Evershot
Number of new gridsquares: 0