The last of the year - Champernhayes to Lyme Regis - 31st December 2017

Well, this has got to be the last walk of 2017! Really, truly it has - and our legs feel it now. It's a lot of effort when every single footstep of 11 miles is through thick, squelchy, slippy mud. We enjoyed our last walk from here so much the other day that we decided to go back for more slippery fun - masochists that we are!

Starting from the same car park and joining a few other cars/dog walkers, we were pleased that the rain wasn't teaming down as before, but  we donned all our waterproofs just in case. We set off in the direction from whence we had returned two days ago, fighting our way through the thicket of vegetation and trying to ignore the shots through the forest. Conscious that we weren't exactly on the footpath and unsure of where the shots were coming from, we tripped our way through to the path at Marsh Farm and into the open space. Phew! Although not in a new gridsquare, I took a photo to celebrate.

Track near Marsh Farm, Wootton Hill - SY3596

We emerged onto the minor road and admired the farm signs here before turning off again onto a local footpath.

Champernhayes Lodge sign - SY3596

Marsh Farm sign - SY3596

We turned off by a market garden onto an unsigned path and followed our noses south onto Monkton Wyld Lane, only going slightly astray. We returned to the Monarch's Way at Stubb's Farm and retraced our steps of a couple of days ago past Bowshot Coppice and where we couldn't find the geocache up to Penn Farm where we sat on a wonderfully placed bench for our morning cup of tea and found a geocache! One of my favourites in fact due to the magnificent view here, albeit marred ever so slightly by the overcastness of the day.

View from Penn - SY3495

We went round a bit in circles here because I hadn't realised we'd actually taken a detour to find the cache. It didn't matter though as we were glad of the seat and break. We needed to cross the A35 though and descend into Lyme Regis and into my first new gridsquare of the day. It was  a bit hairy dashing across the road here, but once done we quickly forgot the traffic as we entered Hole Common from which we did not emerge for a good mile (it seemed longer!)

Hole Common - SY3495

We were almost over the border into Devon at this point. "Devon's on the right, Dorset on the left," I kept reminding Paul whenever I felt I needed to fill a gap in the conversation or to take his mind off slipping on the mud 'ice' rink. We plodded on through four gridsquares into Lyme Regis. Strangely, though, Lyme Regis didn't seem to be getting any closer.

Hole Common - SY3395

Hole Common at the Devon border - SY3394

Hole Common - SY3494

Dragon's Hill, north of Lyme Regis - SY3393

 Whenever we saw a sign, it read 'Lyme Regis 1 mile'. That mile stretched on for an eternity. As we reached the northernmost boundary of Lyme Regis and the Devon border once again, we started passing people - a family in wellies (very well spoken), a mad jogger coming up from behind who nearly bumped into us (not spoken at all), dog walkers (very happy new year cheery) and a woman and her child whose suggestion for what to do next was 'or we could just go home'. These were all encountered in varying degrees of downpour and thunder. At least we're pretty sure it was thunder; it might have been a huge lorry, an earthquake, a tsunami, a ghost or tinnitus from too much rain! At any rate we were not happy being out in the open with my binoculars attracting any electric activity, so we sheltered under a tree and donned our waterproof trousers (which we'd been donning and shedding throughout the walk so far). "Do you know why it's not safe to shelter under a lone tree in a thunder storm?" Paul asked cheerily as we struggled to find the feet in our muddy waterproofs. Without waiting for my answer he enlightened me, "It's because of the wood splintering and causing bodily harm, not the lightening itself." There, I'd learned something new on the last day of the year.

We finally dripped our way into Lyme Regis and wondered if we'd had a minor time travel experience into the summer, not because of the weather - it was still wet and miserable, but because of the crowds of people who seemed oblivious to the weather. There were even surfers in the sea willing some bigger and better waves. We had intended buying soup in a cafe but found the cafes overcrowded or too expensive so ended up buying portions of chips and sitting on a bench overlooking the Cobb and the hoards of people. This was the life! What a joy!

The Cobb, Lyme Regis - SY3491

 Feeling refreshed we set off once more, conscious that we'd not yet done half the walk in more than half the daylight. And we had a big uphill to do next. We discovered the reason for the crowds of people - there was to be a duck race and a plunge into the icy waters of Lyme Bay the next day/next year! That would be a pleasant alternative to the walk we'd planned up Lewesdon Hill. But we were committed!

We climbed uphill on the diverted south-west coast path, all our joints complaining from the prolonged strain. I remembered it from last time when I'd been glad we hadn't got to do it again and now here we were not only doing it once more, but talking of repeating this walk with the group. What was the matter with us!?  Even when we reached the golf course we weren't in a new gridsquare, but I was delighted to discover the golf course was closed which meant we could go and find the trigpoint we'd not been able to walk across to on our last visit (due to the risk of being hit on the head by a golf ball of course!)

Lyme Regis golf course trigpoint - SY3493

A rare sight - an empty golf course, SY3493

 We left the golf course and entered Fern Hill, continuing on the diverted south-west coast path down to the A3052 and then the A35 before it reaches Charmouth.

Fern Hill - SY3593

This bit turned out not to be as difficult as we'd thought as there is a pavement through the hotel grounds and on to the roundabout and then we crossed and walked along the old A35 (dipping out on a cache) and wandered up to the footpath at the cemetery.

Fern Hill Cemetery - SY3594

 By this time, we were not only exhausted, but also very conscious of the dimming light. A quick glance at my phone map revealed that my original course was still another two miles or so back to the car. Paul was dragging his feet, "According to my calculations, we've walked nine miles so the car should be just around the next corner," he teased as Hogchester Farm came into view. He knew fine the car was nowhere near us yet.

Hogchester Farm - SY3594

We entered a field with lots of goats, kids (as in goatlets) and sheep and navigated our way up hill to the road at Westover Hill. "I've made a decision," I announced. "I've checked the map and if we're vigilant, we can still get the next gridsquare but curtail our walk by a couple of miles." Paul did not argue; in fact he said nothing, but acquiesced in expression only.

When we saw the steepness of the hill we'd just joined, we were glad of our decision; we'd have been climbing up it if we'd kept to our original plan!

Westover Hill - SY3594

 We decided to just walk along the road into Wootton Fitzpaine rather than slog our way through any more muddy fields.

Westover Farm Entrance - SY3595

Sign to Wootton Fitzpaine - SY3695

At Wootton Fitzpaine we acted as locals and sat on the W.F.S.C (Wootton Fitzpaine Social Club) bench to drink the dregs of our tea and eat a final Christmas mince pie.

In the dimming light we walked on tarmac to our final turnoff at Knapp Farm where our attention was drawn to a solitary sheep which did not run like its playmates upon our approach. The reason? Its badger-faced head was caught in the fence. We felt glad to be able to rescue it by gently lifting the wire and manoeuvring its short horns underneath  to freedom.

We squelched across a ridiculously muddy field to a barn known on the map as Guppy, which I thought was a new gridsquare, but it turns out I photographed this one in August on my first walk to Wootton Fitzpaine. I'd gone out of my way to do so, I remember now as I'm typing this. Oh well! That meant that my final new gridsquare of the day and year had in fact been SY3594 because the Westover Farm one hadn't been a new one either. We'd got that one two days ago in a different part. I was seriously reducing the number of new squares today just by rechecking the map!

Guppy - SY3696

Ancient Beech hedge in Wootton Hill  - SY3596

We walked through Wootton Hill woods past an ancient Beech hedge and a bronze carpet of Beech leaves back to our car, now alone in the car park. Sodden and satisfied we threw our wet waterproofs into the car, swigged some apple juice and set off into the sunset of another day and year. Welcome 2018 when you arrive!

Number of new gridsquares: 6 (down from an anticipated 8)
Number of miles walked: 11.2
Number of sheep rescued: 1
Number of trigpoints: 1
Number of potential Lyme Regis plungers: 1,000,000

Close to the border at Champernhayes - 29th December 2017

This was an unexpected bonus - another walk in 2017. The book I had prepared for Paul of all of 2017's walks will have to have an addendum of these past two walks! No matter; it was worth it.

I needed cheering up after dropping off my two offspring at Crewkerne station and decided that a day's vacuuming and dusting just wasn't going to do it; I wanted to be out of the house; what better than a walk? I thought to myself. Paul readily agreed and I consulted the map and hastily drew out an unexplored route not too far from home and close to the Devon border.

Starting near Lambert's Castle, just a little further south, we donned all our waterproofs in hammering rain and hail. "Should we sit it out in the car?" I suggested as we popped the last popper on our waterproof trousers. "What's the point of that?" Paul argued, "we're all dressed ready for it now." So off we set with my camera at the bottom of the rucksack.

We went wrong immediately, making the usual mistake of following the most obvious path instead of looking for the not-so-obvious path amidst the brambles and bracken. We had the added problem of the original path having been diverted, but we were soon on the 'straight and narrow' at the south edge of Wootton Hill wood and he rain had stopped. Time for my first photo.

Wootton Hill Woods - SY3596

It was still slightly overcast when we reached Spence Farm and exclaimed at the sight of the sea - funny how it never fails to charm us. There was also a vineyard, which was kind of apt as that word had featured in the previous night's game of 'Articulate'.

Spence Farm Vineyard - SY3596

We continued westwards to Champernhayes Farm, a soggy field which it was difficult to imagine as a campsite in the summer months. We were greeted in silence by a mannequin's naked torso leaning over a conglomeration of containers outside a caravan and a mute dog which bared its teeth at us in something between a smile and a grimace. It all felt a little unnerving. I didn't even want to risk a photo of the torso lest someone was twitching the net curtains!

Conglomeration at Champernhayes Farm - SY3596

We were not sorry to leave this farm as we headed southwards onto a wooded lane at Champernhayes Cross.

Mill Lane - SY3595

By now we were basking in dappled sunshine and our spirits had lifted and we were contemplating coffee break. All we needed was a seat. We continued down the lane, turning westwards and joining the Liberty Trail just south of Bowshot Farm. A faint rainbow ahead of us alerted us to the threat of more rain as I quickly snapped my photo for the gridsquare.

Bowshot Coppice - SY3495

We had left without contemplating geocaches and with the threat of rain once more behind us, we checked to see whether there were any caches in the area. "There's one just off our path," Paul said and we both agreed it was worth a short diversion to find it. This is when it's worth checking all the facts, however. Once there, after a fruitless search, we checked the website again and discovered quite a few DNFs (Did not find) logs. Neither did we find anywhere suitable to have a cup of tea; a ruined barn being completely barricaded up. "It's not far to Monkton Wyld church," I consoled, "we could have an early lunch there."

Stubb's Farm from the Liberty Trail - SY3495

Our spirits had completely lifted by now - that's the big bonus when you set off in rain as heavy as hammers - you know it can only get better! We retraced our steps and joined Monkton Wyld Lane where we climbed the hill up to Higher Wyld Farm where we turned off onto the Monarch's Way through a ten foot high corrugated iron gate. It was weird opening this gate without knowing what lay on the other side. It was in fact a farmyard.

Higher Wyld Farm - SY3496

Broken roof at Higher Wyld Farm - SY3496

We walked across the farmyard to the road, where we turned left to the spired church of St Andrew's, nestling in glorious winter sunshine and sat in the wooded porch (which could do with the wood being treated added Paul). We ate our lunch with sun pouring through the wooden lattice work. Having already tried the door and found it locked, we obeyed the instructions to seek the key from the cottage below the church. There was a chalked invitation to all and sundry to walk through the garden to find vintage goods for sale in the hut if you followed the arrows. We were stopped in our tracks by this additional adventure by the arrival of a small car turning into the driveway. The occupants made haste to get out of the car and into the house with a baby bundle but handed us the heavy key upon our question and asked us to return it under the chicken when we'd finished. This verbal exchange took all of two minutes and, although not unfriendly, I had expected a slightly friendlier attitude judging from the friendly signs all over the place. I think perhaps we had caught them at the wrong time. "Children visiting parents," I hazarded a guess to Paul as we left with the key in our hands.

St Andrew's Church, Monkton Wyld - SY3396

Garden at Monkton Wyld - SY3396

Stained glass window in St Andrew's Church, Monkton Wyld - SY3396

The most interesting thing we discovered in the church was that James Harrison, the geologist, was buried in the churchyard underneath a yew tree. It didn't take long to find his grave. The inscription is now gone, but commemorates James Harrison (d. 1864), a geologist who found the earliest British dinosaur, which was named Scelidosaurus harrisoni after him.

James Harrison's grave, Monkton Wyld - SY3396

James Harrison's grave, Monkton Wyld - SY3396

We left the church and walked up the road, past Greenlands (got to be worth a photo) to Highgate where we would turn eastwards again.

Greenlands - SY3396

Highgate - SY3397

Before our turning, however, we stepped aside to let a car past, but the driver stopped his car and wound down his window. A man in shorts accosted us, "Are you local?" was his first question. "Sort of," we replied, "Can we help?" He went on to ask us what could have been an intriguing question. "Where does the parish of Monkton Wyld end?" Were we suddenly in a round Britain quiz with really obscure questions. "Oooh, that's an interesting question," I replied, eager to find out his motive in asking. Perhaps he was aiming to photograph every gridsquare within that parish or had to identiy every veteran tree in the parish or every bridge or . . .  "Someone bumped into my car on Boxing Day and left a false phone number," he explained, "I've done my research from the registration and it's registered to this parish." He pointed to a scrap of paper with the car registration on it. We directed him to the house below the church with the not-so-friendly people in it. "I think they might be able to help," we offered. "Either that or we've just directed him to the person he's looking for," Paul laughed as the man with a mission screeched and gear-crunched down the hill. We couldn't fathom why you wouldn't just let the insurance company deal with the problem."Perhaps he's got nothing better to do with his time," I suggested as we turned off onto a very rough track.

High Gate - SY3397

As we walked down the really rough lane, I spied a head bobbing above the hedge, a human head. It was swiftly followed by the body of a lady who appeared to be feeding her horses. She bade us a curt 'Good Afternoon' and continued on her way. The people here appear to be a race of either false or few words!

We continued on a track to Wyld Warren which apparently has nothing to do with a wild landscape, but is a reference to 'snare', or 'trap', suggesting that the woodland here was a lair of poachers. I liked the name anyway; it kind of reminded me of the Wild Wood in Wind in the Willows.

View towards Wyld Warren - SY3497

Monarch's Way near Wyld Warren - SY3497

Ruin at Wyld Warren - SY3497

Wyld Warren - SY3497

Once in the woods we followed the GPS and this time managed to find a cache which was cleverly hidden and also admired some inosculation of tree branches (where tree branches have fused together - strictly speaking it refers to branches from separate trees, but I've never really seen that so use it to refer to branches of the same tree which have grafted together in time).

Inosculation in Wyld Warren - SY3497

 We were now on the homeward stretch,having returned to Chamernhayes land and an avenue of beautifully highlighted Beech Trees.

Beech trees and roots near Champernhayes - SY3497

Near Champernhayes - SY3597

We decided to risk the track which led parallel to the road to avoid the risk of being run over by beshorted men on a mission or similar. This meant of course fighting our way back through branches and brambles out of the land of Narnia and back to the wardrobe or, in this case, our car!

Number of miles walked: 7.2
Number of new gridsquares: 8
Number of unusual people: 4
Number of mute dogs: 1
Number of half mannequins: 1