Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts

Thursday, 29 March 2018

Bimble in the blizzard - 18th March

It's hard now to believe writing this on a day when I've walked without a coat all day, but this time last week it was a very different scene. We awoke to find a pristine blanket of snow covering the ground and I was eager to explore - safely of course!

Now where could we go that was safe, scenic and not too far away? (Of course I was naturally also asking, "Where can we go that I can gain some more gridsquares?") A compromise was necessary. I just couldn't adjust to the idea of another walk to Hinton St George - even if it did promise tea and cake - oh, that was another criteria, where could we go that was safe, scenic, not too far away and that could offer tea and cake? Or soup? Or both?

"Beaminster," Paul suggested. "OK," I acquiesced. It was getting late (9 am) and if we didn't get our skates on (perhaps even literally) we'd end up talking round in circles and never getting out. "I'll drive," I offered, grabbing the keys and making a bolt for the door.

The roads were a tinsy bit scary, but we arrived safely in the village square and set off into a winter scene of whiteness.

Beaminster - ST4701
Beaminster - ST4701
We approached Gerrard's Hill as the snow started falling faster, covering our way in a glorious white blanket of softness.

Gerrard's Hill in snow - ST4601
Wessex Ridgeway near Higher Burrowbridge Farm - ST4601

Woods near Gerrard's Hill - ST4601

Snow tunnel approaching Gerrard's Hill - ST4601

Snow tunnel approaching Gerrard's Hill - ST4601
Sign in woods on Wessex Ridgeway - ST4601

 As we started our ascent to the familiar landmark of the lonely tree, I gasped in wonder as its beauty. Our much-loved tree is said to be  'flying' - a tree,  seeded by bird or wind in a lofty place.
Stile and 'flying' tree on Wessex Ridgeway on lower slopes of Gerrard's Hill - ST4601
I spent some time getting cold hands photographing one of my favourite trees, whilst Paul waited patiently, blowing on his chilled fingers.



 Then we finished our ascent to the trigpoint. I wonder if there's a word for the way snow lays only on one side of a tree's trunk?
Trigpoint on Gerrard's Hill - ST4601
A sheep was watching us and we were envious of its fleece!

Sheep on Gerrard's Hill - ST4601


It was taking us a long time to get out of ST4601, but we eventually made it into the next gridsquare west - ST4501 at Chart Knolle.

Chart Knolle Farm - ST4501

We had been vaguely following the footprints of another human and a dog, surprised that we were not the only ones mad enough to venture out into a snowstorm. As we approached Stoke Knapp Farm, we caught up with our fellow explorer and his Jack Russell - on his return jog from Lewesdon Hill! So much for thinking we were intrepid! I commented on his footwear (one of those occaisons when you speak before thinking!) "Aren't you cold with your trainers on?" He assured us he wasn't, that they had studs on and ran off leaving us wondering if the studs were a weapon or a walking aid!

We managed to find a huge tyre to sit on with a warming cup of tea at stoke Knapp farm before turning onto a new bridleway for us north to Clanden Hill. We were now leaving the Wessex Ridgeway. I have to admit it's difficult whilst out walking to remember whether I have walked a particular path or not. Paul confirmed we had not done this path before so we strode out with extra tea-fuelled energy and even took a slight detour to investigate an interesting piece of rusty farm machinery.

Rust in snow, Clavendon Hill - ST4401
When we finally got to the B3163 to Broadwindsor, we found it to be very quiet, for which we were glad as we wanted to walk right down its middle for safety and ease.

B3163 to Broadwindsor - ST4402

I took a very rare photograph of a cricket club. (Let's face it they're seldom the most photographic of places!)

Broadwinsdor Cricket Club - ST4402
And then we were on the outskirts of the major city of Broadwindsor where we would find that warming bowl of soup at the Craft Centre. We passed a few brave souls traipsing miserably through the snow, but when we reached the Craft Centre, it looked decidedly closed and that's because it was. What a disappointment! Hungry and weary, we plodded on. Paul had the brilliant brainwave of getting soup at the White Lion pub.

We pushed past some cigarette-smoking patrons, did our best to get most of the snow out of our hair and boots and walked into an almost empty pub where a sign read 'Only Roast Dinners served today'. Just to be sure, we asked and just to be sure we also asked about the signs on the empty tables by the roaring fire (which read 'RESERVED'). "Does that mean the same on snowy days as it does in the sunshine?" I asked hopefully. After all, it was past  pm and there was nobody there. Surely they couldn't still be expecting people to turn up on a day like this.

Soupless and fireless, we sat at our specially designated table and drank tea hot chocolate (me) and beer (Paul). Then it was on with the waterproofs once more and finding somewhere to eat our appetising lunch.

"It'll have to be the church," I said and we wandered in and ate our sandwiches, afterwards realising that it was probably colder inside than out.

St John the Baptist Church, Broadwindsor - ST4302
Having decided to chicken out of the Lewesdon Hill return option, we headed north to Common Water Lane and joined the Monarch's Way. We had walked this way before.Not long after turning onto this lane we got out of the way of a vehicle approaching us. It wasn't until we'd walked the entire length of this lane that we expressed our surprise at how this 'pretend 4 x 4' (as Paul put it) had managed to get all the way down that rutted lane in the snow. It certainly wasn't designed to do it as it hadn't been a farm vehicle. Once committed on these tiny lanes, though, there is often no way of turning back. You've just got to keep on going. Which is also what we had to do and it was about now that our fingers finally gave into the cold. I had been taking my gloves on and off all day and suddenly began to feel absolutely frozen. Then I remembered, with sheer delight, the Hotties' packed away in the top of my rucksack for just such an occasion. I was actually glad to be cold in order to give these a trial as I'd never felt justified in using them up before.

Well, it's no wonder Blacks had sold out of them when we tried to buy some more the following week. These little things are a Godsend (and I'm not on commission to say so!) We actually had two types of hand warmer with us and selfishly I tried the one which I thought would be the best. It served me right that it wasn't; it was rubbish. That was the reusable one. The disposable ones (yes, I know - littering the planet and all that) were filled with tiny iron filings which, when shakes and pressed into the palm of the hand, gradually give off a very comforting heat. "It's like a hot water bottle for your hands!" I exclaimed to Paul after stealing his hottie. (I didn't really; we had two of each types)

Revived, we continued to take photos of the glistening scene before us.

Stream on Common Water Lane - ST4402
We began our descent along a very muddy bridleway at Foxholes Plantation.
Clay Coppice - ST4602

Clay Coppice - ST4602
Trees had formed an incredible web of snow and branches.

Clay Coppice - ST4602
 At a clearing we could look back across to Gerrard's Hill, now unobscured by snow clouds.
Looking towards Gerrard's Hill from Clay Coppice - ST4602
The snow came over our boots in places as we walked through Common Wood.

Common Wood - ST4602
And so we trudged back into Beaminster where cars were now tootling through the streets as if nothing had happened, as if he snow had not just transformed our world, but we knew from our wet feet and snow-laden woolly hats and still glowing hottie-fired fingers that we had just experienced a magic day.

Later I found a beautiful description of a similar day in the States, written by Jean M Hughes and this passage sums it up perfectly.

From 'Walking Around the Sun' by Jean M Hughes.
Number of new gridsquares: 0
Number of miles walked: 7.26



Monday, 5 March 2018

Trudge in the sludge - Maiden Newton to Sydling St Nicholas - 3rd March

After the deluge of snow that fell on Thursday afternoon which sent everyone scurrying indoors for cover, and after a day of sledging and walking locally on Friday, we woke up to the great thaw on Saturday and decided it was time to try the car.

"Let's walk to Sydling St Nicholas from Maiden Newton," said Paul eagerly. Of course that warranted a consultation with my map and Geograph, which confirmed in fact that, despite several walks between these two places, I hadn't  photographed all the gridsquares. That would have to be rectified.

Now, I'm not sure what has happened in our household, but I'm finding it unnerving that our routine has been reversed. Recently it has gone from me always being the first to be ready to Paul being the first to be ready. And I blame that disconcerting turn of events for my forgetting my phone (and thus the map) as we drove off into the already melting snow. By the time I realised I was without it, we were approaching Crewkerne Station. I immediately indicated and turned left into the station thinking I'd do a U-turn there to go back to collect my phone. But that was not to be, at least it was not to be without Paul getting out to push as the car skidded on the remnant of ice and snow at the top of the hill there.

With the phone and map now in my pocket, we set off once again and without further incident (except for some oohing and ahhing at the snow drifts on Toller Down) we arrived and Parked on Chilfrome Lane in Maiden Newton.

It was already raining when we set off along the disused railway track and past the Dragon's Teeth.

Dragon's Teeth, disused railway line, Maiden Newton - SY5998
We missed the Wessex Ridgeway turn off first time round and back tracked to find it. This is an attractive path beside the River Frome which we hadn't walked along before and it emerges at the church.

Wessex Ridgeway by the River Frome, Maiden Newton - SY5998

St Mary's Church, Maiden Newton - SY5998
Of the church itself a lot could be said; I spent a long time photographing an ancient door there, this being the principle reason for our detour. I've been to Maiden Newton many times and never been inside the church. It's always a little too far off the path. "I know it's a detour, but we're definitely doing it today," I'd insisted when Paul had looked at the map and noticed that there was a quicker way to get to the path we wanted. "Don't forget it's got the oldest door in the world," I added as it this was an incentive, "Or is it Britain? Perhaps just England, or maybe Dorset. I can't remember which," I admitted as we opened the huge door and tiptoed our way into the church.

I couldn't help feeling disappointed as soon as we entered. "It might have the oldest door in the world," I whispered to Paul, "but it's got the most modern chairs!" "And lighting system," Paul added as he tried to follow some printed instructions on how to use these tiny buttons to switch on the lights. If he couldn't easily fathom it, there was no hope for an octogenarian giant.

I'm going to save photos of the church for a future date - the reason? Turns out after spending ages photographing the door of the church, I realised afterwards I'd photographed the wrong door! I also had difficulty in definitely seeing the bullet hole that was mentioned from the Civil War. So another visit is called for!

We left the church and finally felt we were embarking on our walk proper. We went under the railway and photographed a huge icicle that had formed on the tunnel wall.

Gate on Break Heart Hill - SY6198

Stile and footpath on Break Heart Hill - SY6199
We then started our descent proper into Sydling St Nicholas. We were beginning to feel in need of a hot cup of tea, but there really wasn't anywhere suitable to sit, so we decided to wait until we reached the village and have an early lunch there and then a drink in the pub.

Descending to Sydling St Nicholas - SY6299
 After warming up, eating our lunch and learning about Sydling's very own millenium capsule buried beneath the church floor to be opened by future generations, we left the comfort of St Nicholas' Church and wandered into the village. Immediately my visions of a picturesque snowy scene were shattered as the streets were almost bereft of snow and looked quite drab and dreary. Not that this village can ever really be ugly; I just had pictured it white and crisp and calling out to be photographed. Perhaps another time. We were glad of a drink in The Greyhound where the bar tender chatted away to us and invited us to take off our boots and warm our feet by the fire whilst we drank our hot chocolate/beer. We managed to resist the temptation (twice) of looking at the menu and were quite relieved that the central heating had broken as it would have been even more difficult to resist the menu and get up to leave. I wish all bar tenders were this friendly and accommodating. He said because he lived in the village he had been obliged to work the past couple of days otherwise the village, like many other places locally, would have been inaccessible.

Reluctantly we re-donned our boots and headed out again. We had decided to revise the route slightly in order to shorten it a bit. Paul had already tentatively asked me if I'd taken into account the difficulty of walking in snow when I had devised the route. "Yep,"I'd replied confidently. "It's just under 7 miles. That takes into account the steepness of the route and the snow difficulty." Paul knows me well though, and knows that my seven miles could easily stretch by another couple of miles and it was a good thing we chose a different route for our return path.

Sweet Chestnut tree at Sydling Cross - note the way the moss has covered the northern side of the trunk - a useful navigation aid - SY6399

We walked by the Sydling Water for a bit, trying to visualise it in the spring when I'd just read that the annual duck race will take place - something they do at Easter time at Bridgend on Islay. It was hard to imagine spring now with the many patches of snow still visible (I know I said earlier that the village was bereft of snow, but that was for dramatic effect because I like the word 'bereft'.)
By Sydling sewage works - SY6398
Beyond the watercress beds we turned right onto a path we'd not walked along before. This was Hog Cliff National Nature Reserve, a Natural England nature reserve which we had not heard of before.

Hog Cliff National Nature Reserve - SY6398
It was hard to imagine on a day like today, but there are hopefully hundreds of tiny Marsh Fritillary caterpillars hibernating under the protection of vegetation on this Reserve. This area of chalk downland is good habitat for this, and other rare butterflies like the Adonis Blue. We would have to return in the late spring to explore some more. There are so many parts of Dorset even now that I have not explored, despite having walked in over a half of the gridsquares of west Dorset.

We were not alone on the nature reserve today. A hungry flock of sheep spotted us and our rucksacks from afar and ran as fast as their cold little four feet would carry them in our direction to bleat and baa as loudly as they could muster. It's unusual for sheep to get this close and we felt so sorry for them, but we really could do no more than utter an apology in sheep language and keep walking They kept following and bleating pathetically. We kept walking. They kept following and so it continued to the top of the hill. At least it took our minds off the climb.


Sheep on Hog Cliff  National Nature Reserve - SY6298
There is no footpath shown on the map through Park Coppice, but this is open access land and there was a stile into the woods and we thought it might be less snowy in there. We thought wrong!



Park Coppice - SY6297
Again this would be a lovely walk in spring with all the spring birds calling and possibly a carpet of bluebells covering the woodland floor. We vowed to return. For now we made do with badger footprints in the snow.

Badger prints in Park Coppice - SY6297
"Watch out for badger sets!" I exhorted Paul as we walked past several large and hidden holes in the snow. It was hard enough walking through the snow as it was without having to worry about falling down a hole.

There is no obvious gate at the other end of the woodland so we had to climb over a barbed wire fence (rather than retrace our treacherous steps). We were now on South Field Hill and scared a couple of Roe Deer does, their white powder puff behinds bobbing elegantly along in front of us.

Deer prints near Park Coppice - SY6297
We passed a half building and couldn't decide if it was a ruin or something in the middle of construction. There were no tell tale signs either way.

Building at South Field Hill - SY6297

Back at the main road for some reason I thought we had to turn right. So we did. Paul following me meekly like one of those sheep and not questioning my decision. After all, I had the map, right? Wrong! At least he was wrong to follow me so unquestioningly. "How far do we have to walk along this road?" Paul shouted to be heard above the din of the oncoming traffic. It was with a sinking heart that I consulted my phone map and announced that we had to turn around. Thankfully we hadn't gone far at all, but any distance is too far along that road. Traffic seldom slows down or manouevres for pedestrians on any road, and it is more important than ever on an A road like this one. Not that we ever deliberately walk along such roads, but there should always be a right of way provided on both sides of the road. Otherwise what's the point?

Back on track, we took a bridleway at Farm Hill Bottom, land which is still managed by Natural England as Hog Cliff Nature Reserve. We were glad to now be going down hill.

Descending Farm Hill Bottom - SY6197

Sheep at Farm Hill Bottom - SY6197
We joined the sheep but were unmolested this time as we navigated our way along the hidden footpath. We were now climbing again, past Parson's Coppice to Fore Hill and the edge of Langcombe Bottom.We managed to take a short cut here by crossing a field diagonally. This saved us passing a herd of cows huddled by our exit and just under a quarter of a mile in distance. Not bad, eh?

Parson's Coppice - SY6197

Fore Hill - SY6097
Rabbit prints - SY6097
Again the snow drifts here were very high - as high as the hedge and we played 'I'm the King of the Castle' here for a while, juveniles that we are! Our snow angels did not work out very well though - and that's something we can't repeat in a hurry!

I was now in my final gridsquare of the day and took a photograph of Maiden newton as we descended into the village.

Maiden Newton from the east - SY6097

Fox prints - SY6097
 Children had gathered with their sledges on these slopes to eke out the remaining snow. We went to look at a pill box we'd never seen before (and to try and find our footpath).

WW2 pill box, Maiden Newton - SY6097
Pheasant's footprints - SY6097
The footpath across the railway line seemed to have disappeared so we returned to where we'd started, underneath the railway tunnel, where the icicle was melting fast. Would we make it back to the car before it had all dripped away like the sand in an hour glass?


Number of new gridsquares: 8 (surprisingly)
Number of miles walked: 7.25
Number of times we resisted taking a look at a menu: 2
Number of animal prints we saw in the snow: 5