It's been such a long time since I said hello, how are you? I hope you've had time to enjoy the summer - or maybe that should be ‘summer’!
I haven't popped in for a while because it's been a disappointing few months where hiking's concerned. However, I think I've got something worth sharing with you now and I hope you enjoy it. First though, here's what's been going on.
A walk with a friend on The South West Coast Path near Portreath recently
A Quick Catch Up
You may remember that in my last letter I wrote of some difficult personal news - my mum died unexpectedly after a short and aggressive illness. What with a bout of depression at the beginning of the year, then a good friend dying in March and my mum in May, it's safe to say it's been a pretty crap year so far.
Illness
Since then my mood has gradually worsened and here I am in yet another fog of depression. It's taking all my energy to fight it and right now it feels like it's getting the better of me. I'm lucky though to have some wonderful close friends encouraging me not to be so hard on myself, and ease up on the guilt of not being in contact with my wider circle of friends and supporters, you included. I hope you understand - you've been in my thoughts.
Hiking And Walking
Sadly there's been one thing after another that's affected the hikes I'd postponed from May - new health appointments (that I can't change) right in the middle of a time window, pharmacy mix ups with medication (they were a week late which meant I missed the Pembrokeshire Coast Path - and lost more than half the cost of train tickets along with it), train strikes - you name it. If ever I felt like there was a conspiracy against me, it's now!
A fabulous walk from Porthleven on the Lizard Peninsular (South West Coast Path) with my good friend Penny from The Great Cornish Outdoors
Back out on the cliffs near Portreath with Penny over the Bank Holiday Weekend
And…
I've managed one decent 120 (ish) mile hike: The Two Moors Way
It's a coast to coast trail close to home in Devon and the trail runs from Wembury on the south coast heading north across Dartmoor and Exmoor national parks to Lynmouth on the north coast.
It's a fabulous trail, one that I highly recommend!
But, as usual for me, it wasn't without some eventful days!
Stunning scenery in Dartmoor National Park on The Two Moors Way trail
Read on and I'll tell you the story of one of them, one that I call Cowgate! First though, here's a link to my newly published comprehensive guide to the Two Moors Way trail.
The Two Moors Way
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The Two Moors Way
Cowgate
Day 5 On The Trail - Mid Devon
Stone circle on Dartmoor
The Two Moors Way can easily be broken down into 4 distinct sections:
A 17 mile hike through gentle Devon countryside from the coast at Wembury (near Plymouth)
Dartmoor National Park
Mid Devon - approximately 30 miles of farmland
Exmoor National Park to the coast at Lynmouth
Guess which section gave me the most grief?!
Setting up a peaceful wild camp near Chagford
What Are You Worried About?
Most hikers naturally have some trepidation about crossing the open moorland on the Two Moors Way. Dartmoor and Exmoor conjure up tales of swirling mists, terrible weather and blanket bog, which means navigation can be a real concern. But, trust me,
The mid Devon section is not to be underestimated!
Mid Devon countryside
Anyone that lives in (or has hiked in) the south west of England knows
There's one thing that's guaranteed: cows
You'll regularly see dairy herds, but also beef cattle. And whilst some of us may be used to them, no one should be complacent.
They can be curious and friendly and come close to check you out, but they can also be unpredictable, even aggressive. Plus, they're big and weigh a tonne (or more), so I generally take a cautious approach- but sometimes it doesn't matter how cautious you are…
Curious calves met me at a gate on the first section of the trail
Cowgate Begins - Encounter No. 1
Day 5, Morchard Road to Owlaborough, 17 miles
One fine morning a herd of more-than-curious, huge, mature beef cattle (that I'd done my best to ward off) abruptly turned direction and stampeded off across the hill, blindly charging between myself and a father and his daughter - literally metres away. They seemed to be heading towards the family and my heart was racing, my mouth and eyes wide open…I froze and held my breath. The cattle left us in their dust in seconds and we looked at each other across the not very wide divide.
It's shocking. You stand there stunned, wondering what just happened, with all the ‘what ifs…’ swirling around your head. It takes a few seconds to realise you're safe and the cows are on the other side of the hill acting like nothing happened. And once the adrenaline subsided I carried on like nothing had happened too.
The rest of the day was easy uneventful walking along lanes, through meadows and woodland in the summer sun, until I ran out of steam myself and decided to find a camp spot for the night.
Woodland walking in Mid Devon
Wild Camp
After scouting around I pitched up beside a path that ran alongside a nature reserve listening to the sound of a busy road nearby. I hadn't seen anyone for hours but decided not to unpack and just sat in my tent waiting for dusk. Sometime later a car pulled up in a nearby layby and I unzipped my tent a few inches to see a woman get out: just a dog walker.
Sure enough, I heard her walk past behind me but after a short time she yelled and ran back, obviously distressed. Alarmed, I peeked out of my tent again and saw her get back into her car. She seemed safe but then she sat there for an interminable length of time, on her phone I thought. Eventually she drove off and I breathed a sigh of relief. There'd been no one else around so I presumed the pitch would be ok as long as I left as early as possible to avoid any morning dog walkers. Time to unpack.
Everything In Its Place
When I unpack it generally entails chucking everything outside the tent and putting it back in a particular order: first my inflated mattress, sleeping bag and liner; next my clothes, electronics and food in their dry bags, all placed in a particular spot beside my mattress; cooking stuff, water, shoes and my rucksack go in the vestibule… it's an art I've perfected over the years. Everything has it's place in the tent and all in a way that helps me feel secure. For example, leaving food in the vestibule is a definite no-no. And that's because waking up to the unknown (and very noisy) sound of a hedgehog snaffling my snacks once left me wide-eyed and a bit panicky, before I dared look into the darkness to see what it was. I swear it was licking its lips!). Anyway, I digress.
Cowgate Continues - Encounter No. 2
I hauled out and emptied my rucksack, looked up and nearly frickin fainted:
I was surrounded
A bunch of extremely curious Red Devon cows had stealthily come to check out something new and interesting in what, I now realised, was very definitely their patch. And not just cows. They'd brought along their very young offspring for the entertainment.
Cows with their calves are a combination
not to be messed with
They're extremely protective of their young and can be aggressive if they feel threatened. Bollocks. This was somewhat more terrifying than a hedgehog.
I shouted for them to move, grabbed my (mostly empty) rucksack and ran. The adjacent boundary wall was too high to scale to safety so I head towards where the car had been parked up. More cows. I slipped my way across a cattle grid to safety. Fuck. A cattle grid. There might not have been any cow pats near the tent, but the fucking cattle grid should have been one enormous clue. Idiot. Stupid, bloody idiot. Safely on the other side, I stood in disbelief and watched as the herd came to say hi/see me off. Now what? I knew from experience that as long as I stood there, they'd stand there too, just watching and vying for a front row view.
The light was fading. I rifled about in my rucksack looking for my head torch, which I found with some relief - until I realised my phone was still in the tent. I hid behind a straggly hedge as best I could and hoped they'd move off but they were still milling about when I decided the only option was to go back to the tent. My heart was racing again and all I had was a couple of minutes before they spotted me and ambled towards me.
I managed to pull out a couple of tent pegs then grabbed my gear and walked purposely back, shouting "whoah" at the top of my voice, trailing my sleeping bag behind me. But my tent? That would require a third trip. Unbelievable. I dumped everything except my phone on the other side of the grid and head back along the path, again.
My tent surrounded by a herd of Red Devon cows and their calves
When I got there I couldn't believe what I saw: a large number of cows and their calves surrounding my collapsed but still mostly pegged down tent. As I edged closer I saw that it wasn't just surrounded:
There was a frickin cow standing on it!
I shouted at them, and with my arms wide open herded them back. Cow-on-my-tent cow, however, nonchalantly walked right across it. I fully expected it to stop half way, lift its tail and crap all over it, but was spared the ultimate insult! The next major concern - other than pulling out the pegs and getting back to the rest of my gear unscathed, was whether the tent would be half-chewed and mangled by hooves.
Once I was safely over the grid I marvelled at the fact that my aging Zephyros 1 Wild Country Terra Nova tent had survived the trauma of a 1 tonne beast stomping all over it. How I don't know.
Moving On
I slowly packed everything away and when I finally swung my rucksack on I wondered ‘what now’? It was almost dark. I'd chosen to pitch up there in the first place because it didn't look like there was much ahead for a good few miles, but what choice did I have but to walk on? Picking up the trail meant going back through the herd (of course) but I reckoned we'd become friends and all would be well, with them at least.
After a couple of miles of road walking the trail followed a footpath across fields and down into a valley. Stuff that. The first field was a paddock with a couple of horses in it and who knew what was ahead. (Cows only sleep about 4 hours throughout the day and I wasn't chancing another encounter in the pitch black.) I turned back, walked along the single-track lane a little further, found a tiny patch of rough ground in front of a field gate and decided I'd had enough and didn't care: this was tonight's pitch. Forget the tent. I laid out my ground sheet, shuffled down into my waterproof sleeping bag cover (otherwise known as a bivvy bag) and drifted off under a starry sky.
Stunning morning views from my makeshift bivvy
Come daylight I woke up in torrential rain looking like a giant slug, but at least Cowgate was over: two traumatic encounters in one day are enough for anyone. Even so, I had a sense of foreboding that I was in for another day of type 2 fun… and if you count being soaked to the skin in minutes, hiking in monsoon-style rain all day, slipping on a wet tree root and breaking your big toe (as I'm convinced I had), I was right!
***
And Finally
Next Hikes
As I mentioned earlier it's been hard to schedule the summer hikes I'd planned for this year so I'm looking into the possibility of two early autumn hikes instead.
Devon/Cornwall
First, there's a new promising-looking 87 mile trail called the Tamara Coast to Coast Waywhich follows the Devon/Cornwall border from Plymouth to Morwenstow. The trail opened in July and makes a neat alternative to the entire South West Coast Path. It means you can hike the whole perimeter of Cornwall and hike a route of about 400 miles (including 300 miles of the South West Coast Path). In fact it's a hike along the Devon/Cornwall border's been on my bucket list since I finished the South West Coast Path years ago. It would have been a ‘make it up as you go along’ route until now, but the new trail offers an opportunity to write a backpacker's guide too- woohoo!
Pembrokeshire
The other hike on the list is of course The Pembrokeshire Coast Path - I'm desperate to hike this trail! And after your incredible support to get me there I'm determined to try. If I don't get to hike it this year, it means I won't have completed any national trails in 2023, which wouldn't be great for my mood tbh (I need to feel I'm moving closer to my goal to hike all 15 of our national trails, or I'll feel like I've failed and failed you in the process). I have a window of opportunity in early October, but it boils down to whether there are any campsites open at this time of year. I may need a campsite or two as there's a 30 mile section of industrial landscape to pass through, and I'll probably need somewhere to have a shower before I travel home too! Time to do some research.
Recce
I'm heading to Plymouth this weekend (for a day), so I plan on doing a recce of the first stage of the Tamara Coast to Coast Way while I'm there. It's only 12.5 miles and starts on the Cornish side before heading back over the river into Devon, then north along the western edge of the city to the iconic Tamar Bridge. The weather looks good (warm and sunny), so it should be a good day out - I'll let you know how it goes.
That's definitely it for now First name / my lovely - there's a weekend to be had and I feel I've well and truly eaten into yours. Thanks for reading.
I'm off to work on the website update now (it's been going on way too long) and will pop by to say hi again soon. Have a good one :)
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