Still here, still going and getting closer!!

Greetings to all of you in blog land. Apologies that its been so long since the last update. In fact it has been so long that I've no idea what the most recent entry actually is (my Dad has been updating the blog from notes I've been sending through). I'm fairly certain it was from before I got to Stafford.

Rest assured however that I have not been putting my feet up for the last month or so, but I am in fact still trundling quite nicely up the country. Granted from my lack of posting lately you could hardly be blamed for thinking otherwise.

(Dad's note: As of today, 20th July, Chris is on day 59 of his epic trip and is well over half way. He is currently in Bellingham just South of the Scottish border and is still on target to finish the walk by 31st August.)

I'm going to be honest, in term of blogs I'm now so far behind that it seems unlikely that I will be able to catch myself up while I'm still on the trail. The problem is that after a long days walking, I usually reach my campsite around 4.30 to 5.00pm. I then spend the next hour or so setting up camp and trying to make myself more presentable by visiting the shower block. Feeling slightly more human, its time to do something about my raging appetite. The best fix for this little problem seems to be a visit to the nearest pub for an hour or so where I proceed to stuff my face with delicious (for most of the time) pub fayre.

By the time I return to my little canvas home (usually slightly less sober than when I left), it's invariably past 8.00pm and all I feel like doing is lying back, stretching my weary legs and listening to my iPod before getting some shut-eye, so that I can repeat the whole process again on the next day.

It becomes difficult finding time to write a short essay about my experiences on the trail that day. I've tried writing shorter entries; I've tried combining multiple days into a single blog entry but neither method really seems to work.

Instead, what I've decided to do is to continue to make my notes about the day but write them up properly and in full, once I have completed my journey at the end of August. It's not an ideal situation I know, but my concentration is fully engaged at the moment with keeping me moving North. That said, I've got a few days off in Edinburgh in just over a weeks time, so if I can find an internet cafe I'll try to post a little update.

Rest assured however that I am plodding purposefully on and seem to have found my rhythm (at long last). For now though, this is Chris Berry signing off until August 31st, after which I will update you with all of the gory details!!!. If you are in the vicinity of John o Groats on that day, maybe I'll see you there.

Day 21 - Trails, interrogations and a missing destination

Bath to Tormarton - 10/6/08

Today saw a significant milestone in my journey through the country. Up until now the majority of my days have been made up of roads, canals, rights of way and the occasional minor trail. BUT...today saw me join the first of the major national trails, the Cotswold Way, which I will be following for several days. Being a major national trail, the Cotswold Way is excellently waymarked (I could probably have managed without the maps today) and well walked by other intrepid hikers. This means that my experiences of hacking a path through the undergrowth should be behind me (for the time being at least) as the passage of hundreds of pairs of booted feet has already done the job.

Inevitably, the route had one last parting gift before I picked up the Way into Bath. When checking the map the morning before I noticed an old road that would take me directly from the campsite to the outskirts of Bath. I really should know better by now, but I decided to utilise this shortcut and then swiftly regretted it when it turned into a nettly, brambly nightmare after the first mile. I seem to have a talent for picking these seldom used (for seldom read never) routes, which annoyingly have a habit of turning shortcuts into exhausting slogs.

Still, when I finally did reach the start of the Cotswold Way (not the actual start, but the start as far as I was concerned), it made me appreciate the wide open, easy trail even more. Joining a national trail also had other effects. Today was the first day since leaving Lands End, well over 200 miles ago, that I've encountered other hikers. Weirdly, one of the first chaps I bumped into happened to be chair of the local long distance walking club. While he has never done a full end to end, he has done most of the national trails and he seemed to approve of my selection. Having passed my interrogation, I continued to wind my way gradually Northwards.

That is the one problem with the Cotswold Way; it appears to have a real problem going in straight lines and tends to opt for an extra few miles of winding in order to bypass a 50 yard stretch of road. It's something I remember reading about in Mark Moxon's fine publication and now that I'm here, I do see his point. Having spent most of the last 3 weeks walking along roads, I've got no problem with using them in order to cut off some of these redundant twisting sections. That's not to say that I will be abandoning the Way entirely (after all, it is easier on the feet and blessed with some terrific views), but if it starts to veer wildly off course and I can see no major benefit to it, I'm going to look for an alternative.

That quibble aside, the walk today has been exceedingly pleasant although the heat was a tad overpowering again. I never thought I'd say this, but I would actually welcome a spell of cooler weather. Lugging my pack up and down hills tends to warm me up plenty on its own. Nevertheless, everything was going pretty smoothly, right up until I reached Tormarton (my destination for the day), when I realised that I didn't actually know where the campsite was. Actually, campsite is a bit misleading. I'm staying at a B&B that has given me permission to camp in their garden due to a chronic shortage of campsites along this part of the Way.

After a call to HQ (my folks) I had a street name and a grid reference, both of which I located but still to no avail. Every B&B I've ever stayed in has some sort of sign outside, proclaiming it as such and my downfall in this case was that this B&B had absolutely no outward indication of its B&B nature. Assuming it to be just another house in a street full of houses, I walked straight past it several times before giving up and knocking on the first door to ask for directions.

Not knowing that this was the place, it was slightly unnerving when I was greeted with "Ah, you must be Chris, we've been expecting you". After a moment of panic that I'd stumbled across a community of LEJOG stalkers, it was confirmed that I was actually in the right place. Think I'll stick to the official campsites from now on - at least the tents are a bit of a giveaway.

Day 20 - Lethargy......

Chilcompton to Bath - 9/6/08

At last, it seems the weather is finally on my side. Today was another scorcher and whilst this might cause me to sweat even more profusely than usual (and that is bad enough) at least I can chill out in the sunshine after reaching camp. Even better, today turned out to be a pretty short day by my standards, which means I have maximum time to be lazy. The only downside to short days is that it makes writing an interesting blog entry something of a challenge. I suppose I shouldn't complain. After the last few days, it's quite pleasant to have an uneventful walk.

The route for today was largely along the roads, which is far from ideal but at least you can be certain that the way will be clear of excessive foliage. The oppressive heat (I know - I'm never satisfied) did make the going slightly tougher than it ought to have been but it was far from the most challenging day I've had.

Probably the hardest (but certainly the most interesting) part of the day came when I finally abandoned my tarmac friend and took an old byway in order to cut quite a sizeable corner. It started innocently enough; the surface wasn't great but you could still easily drive along it if you took it steady. As I descended further into the valley, small streams started to appear along the road, shallow at first and then progressively deeper and wider so that eventually I found myself walking along an increasingly narrow embankment. To top it all off, there were a series of steep drops where the original road had obviously subsided due to its new watery status.

What surprised me most, as I slowly clambered down this natural obstacle, were the tyre tracks. This track was long past the point that it could be called a road and yet people still seemingly used it as such. I presume it must be used by some local off-roading club, but I suppose its possible that some navigationally challenged but optimistic motorists might have attempted to force their way through. I'm both disappointed and glad not to have been witness to such an act of lunacy. While the attempt would surely be spectacular, being roped into pushing them back up the slope would have seriously eaten into my sunbathing time.

Day 18 - Company, hippies and a merry meeting

Street to Chilcompton - 7/6/08

Today was easily the best day of my journey so far. There are three reasons for this. First and foremost, today I've been joined by my Dad who has bravely donned the boots and provided me with some exceedingly welcome company for the day. Secondly, I've been able to sling my leaden pack into the boot of the car for the day, which means that I've had an entire day without the weighty bugger trying to drill me into the pavement with every step. Last, but by no means least, my good friends Rob and Vicky have come to visit, which means that I've had a welcoming party eagerly awaiting my arrival at the site this evening.

With the situation as it was, I would probably have enjoyed any route (even the Exe Valley Way - maybe) and whilst our chosen path was pretty road heavy, it proved pleasant enough.

The day began in the same layby where my bedraggled self had been rescued yesterday. Something of an inauspicious start perhaps, but it actually worked out rather well. Had I continued last night to the campsite where we were scheduled to meet, this morning would have involved a couple of miles backtracking to return to the route. As it was, my Dad and myself were ideally positioned to catch a short bridle way and join the lane that cuts around the back of Street and in the process save ourselves a mile or two of hiking.

Having effectively by-passed Street, our trail next took us to the hippy commune of Glastonbury. It really is quite a fascinating place and not just because of the imposing Glastonbury Tor that dominates the skyline. I would hazard a guess that the High Street has remained largely unchanged since the 60's and certainly the profusion of alternative style shops made a pleasant change from the carbon copy town centres in most places. I will say one thing for Glastonbury; it makes a fine coffee and flapjack (well the cafe we stopped at certainly did). Just the thing to get the weary walker back on the road.

And back on the road we duly went. In fact, after consulting the map over coffee we decided to bite the bullet and take the main road between Glastonbury and Wells. While A-roads are not particularly walker friendly (the high volume of traffic is usually a good reason for avoiding them), in this case, avoiding the A road would have meant twice as long spent on B roads. With friends awaiting me at my destination we decided to opt for the more direct approach. Fantastically, this particular road came complete with a handy pavement for almost the entire way, which turned a potentially unpleasant hour into something much more tolerable. It was still noisy, which made conversation a tad tricky, but at least we didn't have to spend our time dodging the traffic.

Wells is yet another place I'd never been to, though it seems like somewhere that would be nice to re-visit when I'm not heading North. The town (or rather city) certainly seemed to be bustling with other folks taking in the sights. We, however, contented ourselves with a pasty stop in the grounds of the impressive Wells Cathedral. There's something about the architecture of Cathedrals that never fails to move me. It's fascinating to think of the skill and dedication that went into the mammoth task of constructing these vast edifices. Sadly, today there was no time for leisurely exploration and having consumed our well earned pasties, it was time for the last push to Chilcompton.

Having spent the majority of the day on the flat, the road out of Wells played a particularly mean trick, by winding steadily but consistently uphill. This went on for mile after mile and I was increasingly grateful to be without my pack, which would have turned this final stretch into a real test of endurance. This was certainly the case for my Dad who, lacking feet toughened by 200 miles of pounding, managed to rub himself a fine blister before the road finally levelled off. Needless to say we were both exceedingly relieved when the camp site finally came into view and we could finally kick off the boots and reflect on a great days rambling.

Day 17 - Stings, Mumps and a blocked Drain

Taunton to Street - 6/6/08

I really needed the extra day off in Taunton yesterday. I woke up stiff as the proverbial board and exceedingly glad not to have to don the boots and hit the road. This morning I was still somewhat tender but certainly far better than I had been and given that today was yet another arduous day, I would have struggled without a rest. Special mention must go to everyone at the Heathercroft B&B in Taunton for their unending sympathy, help and support. If you ever pass through Taunton they are well worth a visit.

I'm spending tonight with my parents who are coming down to see how I'm getting on and give a bit of a boost to my spirits after the ordeal the other day. This has the added bonus that today I was only walking with half a pack, having left my camping gear at the B&B for collection by my folks this afternoon. Even half empty however, the pack was still a considerable weight and still, somehow, managed to chafe my shoulders at the end of the day.

In a mirror of my journey from Tiverton, my walk today began along the side of the Taunton to Bridgewater canal. I guess its down to Taunton being a fairly large town, but the early scenery along the canal was considerably more industrial than it had been in previous days. I shouldn't complain really; everytime I go off road I wish I was back in civilisation and everytime I'm in a town I wish I was out of it again. No pleasing some folks I suppose. In any case, the factories and offices soon gave way to trees and fields, which made the stroll along the towpath much more pleasant.

Given my previous experience when leaving canals, I was a touch apprehensive as I finally veered off the towpath and joined the banks of the River Tone. On the positive side, it was nowhere near as overgrown as it could have been, but it was sufficiently nettle filled to provide a tricky route finding challenge. In a rather curious oversight, my walking trousers, whilst lightweight and exceedingly comfortable, are clearly not nettle proof. As I am similarly lacking in "nettle proofing", the only options for traversing fields of these prickly little buggers are either to use my trekking poles to gingerly pick out a path or don the gortex and barge right through.

After a mile or so of option one I lost patience and despite scorching weather, I pulled on my waterproof trousers, gave up following the path of least resistance and stomped in a straight line between stiles. Whilst this helped the stress levels no end, by the time I finally rejoined the road, I was absolutely drenched and exceedingly grateful to be back on asphalt (never thought I'd say that!!).

Call me a sucker for punishment, but shortly after joining the road I took a momentary deviation in order to crawl up the side of a ferociously steep little hill. This was not a random attack of masochism but rather an opportunity to explore the ruined abbey on Burrow Mump. It's a little like a smaller, less touristy version of Glastonbury Tor, though even at its more modest height the views over the surrounding Somerset levels are superb. It certainly proved an excellent spot for me to sit and have a bite to eat and generally try to recover from my trek along the river.

Alas, my trials were not over for the day. Kings Sedgemoor Drain is one of the largest of many many drainage channels criss-crossing the fields of the Somerset levels. Essentially, it is a dead straight river into which many of the smaller channels flow. This means that any walk along the bank involves the crossing of at least a dozen smaller streams; a challenge made much simpler by the provision of bridges. However, when I came to use said bridges they were either completely obscured by shrubberies or collapsed.

This was annoying enough in itself, but when combined with chest high undergrowth (I'm 6 feet 4 by the way) covering the fields in between, it turned this section into a complete nightmare. It took me almost an hour to cover a mile and a half of riverbank and by the time I reached the road I had well and truly had enough of waterways for one day.

I therefore decided to signal my folks for a roadside pick-up (a luxury I would have been keen to use a dozen times over by now). This does mean that I'll be starting my walk tomorrow from a layby rather than my campsite, as intended but at this point I'm finding it difficult to care. So long as I begin tomorrow where I left off today it doesn't really matter and this way I get to spend another hour or so with my folks. After two weeks on my lonesome, it's well worth a longer day tomorrow.

Day 15 Canals, ex-canals and the difference thereof

Tiverton to Taunton - 4/6/08

Wow!! Today was quite a trial. I knew I would have to dig deep on this little escapade of mine, but I thought that it would be towards the end rather than two weeks in. I kind of knew that today was going to be a tough one just on distance alone (my guide book claims 24 miles and I believe it!!) but things just sort of fell apart as the day wore on.

To make matters worse, a glance at the map suggests that despite the distance, today should have been easy, given that it follows the course of an (ex) canal and is hence flat. It just goes to show how deceiving maps can be.

Nevertheless the day began promisingly enough. Freshly rested from my day off in Tiverton (nice little town by the way), after a quick plod through the streets I joined the start of the canal that would be my companion throughout the day. I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed the first few hours, strolling along the towpath. The weather was good (for a change), the path was clear and level and the scenery was very pleasant. After so many days on the lanes, following the waterway and getting to see a little wildlife was very pleasant (I lost count of the number of tiny Cygnets and Ducklings that I spotted).

The surprising quantity of wildlife (including an Adder sunning itself on the towpath!!) is no doubt down to the equally surprising lack of boat traffic on the canal. Surprising that is until you consult the map and discover that after winding its way around contours for a dozen or so miles, the canal ends unceremoniously in the middle of nowhere. What you have therefore is, in effect, not a canal but a twelve mile long pond. This lack of boat movement and the absence of any current has had a surprising side-effect, in that, for the last 4 or 5 miles this is quite easily the clearest canal I have ever seen. It sounds a little odd, but I was genuinely taken aback by this. Usually, most of British Waterways are murky brown at best, so to find one absolutely crystal clear came as something of a shock. Given the heat of the day, I was increasingly tempted to drop the pack and go for a dip.

I decided to press on, which was fine right up until the point where the canal abruptly ended and thereafter the day descended into misery. My guidebook quite innocently states that after the canal has come to an end, you should simply follow the course of the abandoned canal, essentially, all the way to Taunton. I'm not sure when the book was written but if anyone is planning to follow the same course as I have, let me give you some advice. "Don't!" I've had some pretty overgrown paths in the last couple of weeks, but trying to walk along sections of the old canal is like trying to walk through a particularly dense hedge. I can only surmise that nobody has attempted this part of the route for a while and certainly not with a bulky pack. I literally had to turn my trekking poles into makeshift machetes and hack a path through the foliage. On such a long day, this was exhausting and after a couple of miles I was physically drained and actually dreading the remaining 10 miles or so into Taunton.

At my lowest ebb (shortly after leaning against a fence to catch my breath only to find it electrified), I tried to call my folks to get a few words of encouragement and a general pick-me-up. Even this was denied however thanks to the complete lack of signal on the phone. A few miles further on I did eventually get through, though at this point I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. A conversation with my Mum later, I was feeling slightly better, though I still had a few miles to go before I could finally stop. To help matters, my left leg (that had been playing up on the way into Tiverton) had flared up again and was now causing me real problems. It was this that clinched the decision to abandon the slog along the canal at the next road that I came to, and wind my way into Taunton along the lanes. While this turned out to be less than direct, at least I didn't have to fight for every step.

By the time I hobbled into Taunton some 11 (!) hours after setting off from Tiverton, I was pretty much on my knees. I've decided to take an unscheduled day off tomorrow as, currently, I can barely bend my left leg without considerable pain, which doesn't really lend itself to long distance walking.

Fortunately the B&B that I am staying at can accommodate me for the extra day and the lady who runs the place couldn't be nicer or more sympathetic to my bedraggled condition. I've been given the en-suite room with an exceedingly inviting double bed, despite only asking for the standard single room. That little act of kindness is already helping to make me feel better, which after the day I've had, is well overdue.

Day 13 - Misery, injury and a torrent of vitriol

Salmonhutch, Crediton to Tiverton - 2/6/08

Come one, come all for a riveting walk along the spectacular Exe Valley Way. We have the ups, we have the downs (none of those pesky flat sections though) and for those of you who dream of a morning of knee shattering fun, there's always the option of an exciting on-road section first thing. If you can tear yourself away from the relaxing asphalt surface (steep camber included at no extra price) then the wonderful Exe Valley Way offers even more to the discerning hiker.

Relive those childhood dreams of exploration as you battle through our specially prepared undergrowth. Our route maintenance experts have been busily crafting a dense foliage jungle just for you and their careful placement of fallen trees and overhanging branches ensures that your time on the trail will be a real challenge.

But, it's not just about physical exertion; there are sights aplenty to be seen as you go. See our glorious hedgerows which come with our personal "breeze blocker" guarantee to provide you with mile after mile of near identical viewing. After the hedges, be sure to enjoy our sodden fields, murky forests and have your camera ready for the unmissable sights and smells of the Tiverton sewage works.

All said, the Exe Valley Way really is the trip of a lifetime so don't delay, grab your waders and come and join us today. As a bonus, act now and you'll get the benefit of our stifling humidity and torrential downpours at no extra cost. The Exe Valley Way - a once in a lifetime experience.

You can probably tell from the above rant (I don't know why it took the form of an advert - it just seemed right at the time), that the route today has not really been one of my favourites to date. Not only has the walking generally been awful, but the constant ups and downs all day have taken their toll and I'm now walking with a distinct limp. It's my left leg this time, just above the knee, but fortunately I've got tomorrow off, so by the time I don the pack again, it should hopefully feel a tad better.

So, focusing on the positives, what have I enjoyed about today? The honest answer would be precious little, although I must pass on a good word for Bickleigh Mill. I came across this lifesaver late in the afternoon after stomping up and down the hills all the way from Crediton. Having found nothing to eat since my modest bowl of breakfast porridge, I was naturally starving and so pretty much anything would have been welcome. My deli board of cold meats, breads, cheeses etc and a cream tea (complete with two giant scones) turned out to be delicious and all disappeared in a matter of minutes.

Sadly, not even a full stomach could improve the bog ridden off road section that consumed the remainder of my afternoon. It seems to be a constant problem down here that even the more prominent footpaths are in desperate need of a spot of maintenance. It's all well and good providing signs and waymarkers pointing across a field but if you can't physically walk across said field without hacking through waist high grass and climbing over fallen trees, then something is clearly amiss. I therefore implore whoever is in charge of the footpaths of Southern England to get out there and "walk the trails yourself" (preferably with a heavy backpack) so that when the next LEJOG walker comes along they can have something positive to say about their journey into Tiverton.