The Hermit's Cave

Red Hill and the Mud- CakedTrainers

“You should be OK.” We will find out later how wrong I was, answering a perfectly reasonable question in the way. Walking Companion asked the question that inspired my answer, in a text the day before our walk. The question being. “Do you think I will get away with trainers?” We will come to the outcome later.

Our completion deadline was 2.00pm. So I had planned a shortish walk of about 6 miles commencing with coffee at a cafe on Alcester High St. This walk is a bit of a departure for us because it is strictly, an Alcester walk, it does not start by the church. A short drive to a lay-by on the A46 took us to our start point, a gap in the hedge just beyond.

**The Church of St Mary and All Saints, Haselor, Wilmcote**

Basically the route took us across the fields to Haselor. Then, passing the church, through Wilmcote and then following The Arden Way across more fields to through Withycombe Wood and then follow the top of the escarpment and crossing the A46 by The Stag at Red Hill. The path then wound its way through summer meadow, crossing a lane and finally finishing on Croft Lane with a walk back to our start point.

The walk began somewhat inauspiciously by the need to plunge through a field of ripening wheat where no path had been left in the sowing process and a lack of ramblers to maintain the pathway. We waded laboriously until reaching the far side. The second field was easier. A generous track beside a maize crop. But our problems were not over. The path through a farmyard was blocked by metal fencing presumably placed to restrain livestock. Again we were equal to the problem, carefully re-tying the fencing afterwards.

A beautiful grassed tunnel of trees and shrubs led us to Upton where we turned right down a narrow lane flanked by timbered, rose covered cottages redolent of a Hardy novel. The lane opened out onto fields and sheep eyed us with little interest as we walked up the gentle rise to find the exit gate.

The church stands atop a low hill offering gorgeous views. Admiring the countryside we follow the path down to Wilmcote and follow the lane to a point where we join the Arden Way towards Aston Cantlow. Through a field gate and an easy walk through some large fields to the point where The Arden’s Way enters the wood and turns left. We turn right and follow a narrow bridleway as it climbs through the wood towards the top of the escarpment.

And this is where the footwear error became apparent. The path, bridleway, was narrow, squeezed between thick undergrowth and a barbed wire fence. Previous equine traffic had created a slippery, muddy slurry of porridge-like consistency which clung to our footwear and made progress increasingly difficult. My sure-footed companion slipped, narrowly avoiding a muddy fall. Worse, the undergrowth stopped us finding an alternative route. Onward we struggled until finally mounting the crest into a field.

Back in sunshine we scraped the worst of the mud off our footwear. (Oops, nice trainers!) Further along the ridge the path ducked back into the wood, dryer here, though. We began to hear the traffic as we descended, finding a couple of logs on which we cracked open a couple of miniatures. Today’s theme was Rose´. After a pleasant if slightly uncomfortable break perched on the log we pressed on down through the wood until we emerged, blinking in the sunlight at the A46 close to The Stag Hotel.

Crossing the road was, too say the least, hazardous but with care we prevailed to begin our return journey on the south side of the road. A narrow sun-dappled lane gave into a succession of summer meadows.

A final rickety stile; down the lane and across the A46 to our destination. This was a lovely walk along rarely used paths; rolling Warwickshire hills and rare summer meadows. So lovely, I think I was forgiven the mud-caked trainers.

Walking guidance can be found under the Walks menu on this site. Enjoy!

The Hermits Cave Racks Up 1,000 Visitors

WordPress have just messaged me to say that my blog has just welcomed its one thousandth visitor. That is incredible. Only a few months ago I had no idea how to develop a website of any sort, (Indeed, some would say I still don’t) and now it seems to be building a bit of a following.

The original idea was quite selfish, really. My bereavement counsellor, a very wise lady, suggested I write down my thoughts and feelings as I slowly recovered from the death of my wife. But it wasn’t until the first Covid lockdown that I discovered walking for exercise and as an aid to recovery.

And so The Hermit’s Cave was born. I am the hermit looking down on my Exercise Yard. That small area around which I was able to walk without offending the pandemic regulations. Slowly the Exercise Yard grew as I explored both myself and my local area, the Exercise Yard.

Escape routes were discovered. They became the portals out into the local countryside. My Walking Companion and the Silver Haired Walking friend joined me and together we have begun to build a library of walks in the locality; places of interest and some excellent watering holes.

But I guess the high-point was the March Marathon. Meeting the challenge of a 26 mile walk during March during which we raised in excess of £600 for The Myton Hospice which was an excellent effort from all concerned.

So, what of the future. Well basically more walks both locally and elsewhere in the UK I hope – as soon as travel gets easier. Also I have undertaken to do another marathon. This time, to walk the Arden’s Way. A twenty six mile circular route. This is planned for September and I will be telling you more very soon. Also, hopefully, to build the number of visitors following this site. So, here’s to the next thousand and thanks very much to everyone who has read, contributed, supported and donated. I’m very grateful.

In Which I Say Farewell to a Friend

I sat down today to write about my latest walk, a circular route around Coughton, beginning and ending at the Throckmorton Arms. I had it all planned; I had taken the photographs. I know exactly what I was going to say. But it will have to wait. Why? Because today I attended the funeral of an old school friend. I hadn’t seen Carol from the day when we collected our exam results so why was I driving down the M1 to say farewell?

Well, we had been a school together where, it is true that Carol’s talents had been more sporting than academic. She had been Girls Sports Captain and left school for Bracknell College to take up a secretarial course. At school we shared a couple of passions. School plays and Subbuteo. Indeed, Carol was a regular attendee at the Parry household Subbuteo league evenings, much encouraged by my mother, whose view was that if we were all in my room playing Subbuteo at least the participants’ mothers would know where their offsprings were – even if mum had to produce supper for the lot of us.

School had an active drama production team and few terms ended without a production of some sort. Ali Baba; Pinocchio; The Wizard of Oz all spring to mind. I loved it. Carol shone and later went on to a Sam Kidd-like career rising to an on screen appearance briefly opposite Jack Nicholson in “The Shining”. She even lived close to Pinewood and Elsetree so she cold make the early starts.

Clutching our exam certificates our paths separated. She to Bracknell College and I to Macclesfield. We lost touch. Carol began a career in HR. An unlikely link with modelling but nevertheless she built a successful career as a photographic mode, signing with an agency in London. It is through this she met her husband, Paul, a professional photographer. Together they built both their business activities successfully.

Then, it seems, fate began to take a hand. Illness and episodes of depression began to affect Carol’s life. She and Paul parted although remained lifelong friends and she began to divide her time between Spain and the UK. Eventually a battle with Cancer was added to her other struggles. A battle she was destined, sadly, to lose.

And yet, as I remembered her yesterday, I could only remember a fun loving, attractive and gregarious girl who never quite got the hang of Subbuteo.

The Cricket Commute

I am standing, beer in hand, just beyond the boundary rope at Alcester and Ragley Park Cricket Club in the grounds of Ragley Hall. Two of my grandchildren have been enrolled in the ECB AllStars programme and they, dressed in their sky blue shirts and wielding their orange bats, are having a great time taking their first steps in the game of Cricket.

My family are around me: one son in law playing with his younger daughter; the other, beer in hand, chatting to a friend. My daughter is sitting watching her eldest daughter and her cousin. I tilt my beer bottle to the boys in the time honoured fashion. “Another?” I saunter off towards the tiny, wooden pavilion to order my round.

It’s a warm Spring evening. Surprising really. A huge low pressure system to the west of Ireland is sending huge showers across the country with rain, hail even thunder. But tonight is quiet, warm and sunlit as the shadows lengthen across the pitch. This is one of those evenings my wife would have loved. Surrounded by family; watching grandkids play; a couple of drinks; the opportunity to organise a picnic. I wonder if she is watching?

She might even have enjoyed the evening walk to the ground. Certainly there cannot be many more pleasant commutes. Not far: just lightly more than a mile from front door to park gates. Follow a short footpath then down the flood bank into the water meadow beyond. Then follow the river bank until reaching a field gate and leaving The Exercise Yard under the new bridge that carries the bypass.

Emerging into daylight again I go up the bank and into a field full of sheep. recently pollarded willow trees follow a somewhat swollen stream. Normally ford-able with only the slight risk of a wet foot, this time I take the footbridge and continue diagonally across the field exiting at the cattle grid next to the tiny, wooden village hall. After which it is but a few yards to the imposing gates of Ragley Hall and the cricket ground beyond. And after the cricket I shall have the opportunity to re-trace my steps.

The evening was a huge success for everyone. A chance for families to let off steam after the strict confines of pandemic. So, with a beautiful venue; a couple of beers and the sounds of kids playing made it a beautiful evening.

In Which I Make a New Friend

I’m holding my waterproof jacket, staring vacantly, hoping for some kind of divine intervention to make the decision for me. My real problem is that today’s walk does not suffer from over preparation: or, indeed, any kind of preparation at all. For the last few days it has been a note in my diary looming inexorably and inevitably nearer. Yet because so many other things have been jostling for my attention: notably getting my MG down to Baldock for much needed and overdue repair. But now all that is behind me and I have the decision before me.

Over the last few days brilliant sunshine had peeped between huge, spectacular showers some bearing large hailstones and often with spectacular thunder and lightning. These storms occasionally very local. I was driven home from my daughters one day only to find my washing, a mile distant, basking in warn sunshine. But today it is warm. The blue sky emphasising the cotton-wool Cumulus clouds that cruised sedately across the heavens.

Even the local radio station had promised dry, warm weather with showers limited to the evening. I sigh and zip up my jacket. Underdressed, I have, too often, ended up soaked to the skin. The next issue in this thoroughly underprepared walk is the route. Perhaps my partner can help. “Wherever you like Martin.” No help at all. Oh well, let’s make it up as we go along. I’ve not been in Oversley Woods since the Bluebells bloomed so I set a mental course to include them.

We crossed The Exercise Yard to exit through the Bleachfield Portal, crossing the River Arrow over the footbridge then turning right onto Mill Lane. Shortly we turn off the lane onto a footpath. This is not just any old footpath. It is, in fact, Icknield St, a Roman Road that runs between Bourton on the Water and Templeborough in South Yorkshire. Locally its route is easily discernible passing Wixford and fording The River Avon at Bidford. Then through Honeybourne and breasting the Cotswold escarpment at Saintbury.

Our ambitions are more modest. We carefully cross the A46 at Oversley Roundabout and follow the path between green hedges. Then turning left onto a farm track uphill towards Oversley Castle. Then left, passing a couple of houses and right passing a farm gate onto a muddy track that takes us towards the corner of Oversley Wood.

This is the point where The Arden Way crosses on its way between Alcester and Exhall. Another path climbs over the hill towards Exhall Cricket Club and another around the perimeter of the wood. However, we plunge into the wood following a narrow meandering path, squeezing between Hazel and Birch, trying desperately not to step on the carpet of spring flowers around us. Later, at the point where a bridleway crosses we leave the wood behind us and follow the way gently downhill along a narrow track with green farmland to our left and a tangle of brambles to our right. And that’s where we found it….

…Well, I say “we”. Actually it was my sharp eyed companion who saw it first. Superbly camouflaged among the brambles and low branches; not a metre from our feet. I followed her outstretched finger and immediately saw it, smooth and sinuous, deep in the shadows. Totally unimpressed by our presence but after few seconds, unhurriedly it eased away no doubt in search of a newt or frog for lunch. Sadly I was too entranced to photograph the moment but found this photograph attributed to The Guardian.

Our sighting was the highlight of the day. I had never seen a Grass Snake before, although, as a boy I had a friend with an unnerving talent for catching Slow Worms which he kept in a Kilner Jar until they escaped. His mother never quite recovered. We continued down the lane in warm sunshine. My companion discarded her waterproof and I followed suit. We turned left through a riding stables, now following The Arden Way between fields and paddocks, very gently uphill until meeting the eastern edge of Oversley Wood. Instead of my usual route home, we opted to walk through the wood: I still wanted to see the Bluebells.

Leaving the wood we re-join The Ardern Way and, thirst taking over, we head for home. Down the hill, over the footbridge and into Oversley village and finally re-enterring The Exercise Yard over the river bridge. And finally, back to The Hermit’s Cave for a leisurely review of the walk over a beer and a glass of wine. All that and I had no need of my jacket after all. What could be better?

To be honest, as part of the lack of planning on this walk, I didn’t set my walking App. However my companion’s Fitbit estimates the walk distance to be around 6.5 miles, taking us about 3.5 hours not including beer and wine.

Footbridge Re-opens

Local Alcester walkers and travellers on The Monarch’s Way will be delighted and receive to note that the footbridge over the A435 Alcester bypass, closed recently following damage by vandals, has re-opened.

I have not crossed it but a repair does seem to have been made; certainly the barriers have been removed. Walkers who had been using the more lengthy and certainly more dangerous Roman Way or Eclipse bypass crossings can, it seems, cross using the vastly safer Allimore Lane Route.

However I’m sure walkers, willing to risk the Roman Way or Eclipse routes out of town will enjoyed have enjoyed these hitherto little used paths offering new and different views.

Expert Timing

**An early Bluebell in Coldcomfort Wood**

This was a walk dominated by a need for expert timing. Firstly because we had a lunch date booked at The Nevill Arms and secondly because it was my turn to collect the grandkids from school. So it didn’t help when SHWF turned up at mine at 9.40 demanding pre-event coffee.

The plan was further disrupted by the continuing closure of the Coldcomfort Lane portal out of The Exercise Yard. However the objective was to walk from Alcester up to The Neville Arms on top of The Ridgeway at New End and to return while simultaneously hitting the deadlines.

Exercise Yard departure was through the Roman Way portal and up into the fields beyond. It was a gorgeous day. The sky was a clear blue. Buzzards circled lazily high above us like jets waiting to land at Heathrow. There was the faintest hum of bees attending to the remaining Primroses and Violets we encountered on our way. SHWF fancies himself as something of a birdsong officionado so there are frequent stops to allow him to demonstrate his prowess.

Our path follows the hedge line until we reach Coldcomfort Farm buildings. Then straight through the middle of a newly sewn field down to the lane. Then we strike through the wood. The ground is dry and rock hard leaving the shapes of many feet, hooves and wheels for us to stumble over as we press on through the wood where a blue blush of Bluebells is just visible.

At the exit to the wood we met an elderly couple on their first walk after lockdown. After a chat they set of towards The Spittle Brook Interchange while we crossed the field and ascended the ever steepening climb to Cladswell. We followed the lanes through the village until meeting The Millennium Way and Monarch’s Way at the corner of a field where, I recall, Alcester 41 Club rebuilt the footbridge. Not far from here to our lunch appointment and we arrived ten minutes early.

But lunch was good and the beer, cold, so our departure was later than I had hoped as we dived into the woods opposite the New Inn and down the bank swinging left at the site of the old ruined barn. We parted company with The Millennium way at on old wooden footbridge and followed the hedge line to my nemesis: The Spittle Brook Interchange.

But today the ford was entirely benign and I was able to proceed dry of foot and ergo intact. We skirted the field and entered the next, a beautifully and newly-harrowed expanse: a process which had totally obscured our path. So we set off across the wide and dusty spaces leaving footprints akin to those of earlier explorers Armstrong and Aldrin. Having spoilt the symmetry of the harrow we crossed into our final field where we, again, hugged the hedge line until reaching our portal back into The Exercise Yard. At which point we parted, he for home and me towards school but not before I relieved him of a couple of pieces of Mrs SHWF’d Ginger Cake. After all it would make a great pudding for the kids. And I was at the school gates in good time to meet them too.

Distance walked (including school pick up) 9.72 miles. The walk can be found in OS Explorer Map 205 Stratford-upon-Avon & Evesham. Look out for the walking guide under the Walks Tab.

**Grandson enjoys a celebratory** Milkshake

The Border Country

“What’s that?” asks Walking Companion. We are staring at some thin, green, wispy seedlings struggling through the unseasonably dry clay of a large field just beyond the by pass. To get to this point we have exited The Exercise Yard through the Roman Way portal. crossed couple of paddocks, a stream and scuttled across the by pass like a couple of pheasants.

The obvious expectation is that I should know something of agriculture and identify these thin but determined seedlings. I give up. “Dunno”. I reply unhelpfully. We proceed into the next field and turn left keeping to a field margin of thick, lush grass. Happily chatting about our Easter activities we swing left passing a field reservoir and crossing the A422.

The path, still thick with strikingly green grass, now begins a gentle climb towards The Ridgeway. We pass a ruined field barn and a beautifully restored timbered house that reminds me of the fairy tale home of the eponymous Ginger Bread Man. Steeper now, we pause to “look at the view” a couple of times before pressing on to emerge on The Ridgeway opposite Weethley.

We stroll through Weethley. Not a soul around and where the buildings ceased we struck off westward over the fields. It is noticeably cooler here, the wind whips past almost as quickly as the clouds scudding across the sky. I recall this is a tricky point in the walk. The route is indistinct as it crosses a couple of fields newly tilled and not yet reclaimed by walkers’ feet. I spy a white marker low against the trees almost half a mile distant. “That’s our aiming point, I think”. Having crossed two fields and a stream we enter Weethley Wood.

The wood, atop The Ridgeway, is narrow in depth but follows the county boundary pretty much North / South for a couple of miles. An access track follows this alignment. At the point where we meet it, in the centre of the wood, we are astride the county line. Border Country.

I remember standing astride The Continental Divide in Colorado. The notional line whereby all springs rising to the east flow into the Atlantic and to the west, the Pacific. The county line in Weethley Woods lacks its counterpart’s drama but is, nevertheless, a lovely place with views westward towards The Malverns and eastwards over Alcester and the rolling Warwickshire countryside. We turn north and follow the path deeper into the wood. Primroses and Violets are scattered over the woodland floor, and a bluish blush bears the promise of Bluebells to follow. Felling has been carried out recently and several stacks of stripped trunks have been left awaiting collection. It was in just such a stack of pine that we perched for lunch.

An early Bluebell in Weethley Woods — **An early Bluebell**

Now when I say lunch.. This was not a “Famous Five” repast of lashings of ham and lemonade, more a Thermos of coffee and a couple of miniature bottles of red (1 Rioja 1 Merlot) but very pleasant none the less. Conversation continued under the tree canopy until, reluctantly perhaps, I hoisted my now lighter load and we continued on our way. Pubs re-open next week and lunches will become more organised but I will miss our little al fresco liquid lunches. After rather less than a mile we leave the wood, cross a small field and a road before plunging downhill towards a farm and a rather rickety stile held together with faded orange baling twine.

We have re-crossed the A422 now and are walking in a field margin with woodland to our left. The field rises to our right so although we know the road is there we can neither see or hear it. Walking Companion is a great lover of geographic context. She always needs to know where we are in terms of our surroundings. I wave my hand airily towards key places “Alcester is that way..” etc. “Anyway you will know exactly where you are in a minute..”. And lo. We have arrived at Newmans Plantation and my favourite hare-watching chair with its view over Coldcomfort Farm and the woodland beyond. She agrees, “We have been here before.” We don’t pause this time but enjoy the view as we continue, completing our walk by crossing the by pass and entering The Exercise Yard via The Roman way portal.

This is indeed a lovely walk, slightly shorter than I remembered but then I didn’t get lost this time. And perhaps a couple of weeks too early for the best of the spring flowers. Perhaps I can persuade a companion to join me on this walk again soon. Distance walked 7.5 miles. Use OS Explorer Map 205. Stratford-upon-Avon & Evesham.

Myton Marathon Medal

It’s many a long year since I earned a medal for the sporting prowess. So long, in fact, I struggle to remember the circumstances. However, whatever the reason it could not have been so sweet as the medal above.

From the initial dunking in the Piddle Brook the final walk around the Coldcomfort Circular, including the facing down of my nemesis in the process, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

My thanks, of course, go to everyone who contributed to Myton Hospice and to my two walking companions who were unfailingly great company throughout.

Walking is something I took up during the very darkest of days, for me, nationally and indeed, for humankind as a whole. My walking story can be found above but I am delighted that I have been able to turn a pleasurable pastime into something worthwhile.

Thanks to everyone, Martin

Myton Marathon – The Last Lap

Today’s walk was planned to be the final lap in my Myton Marathon. Who could of thought, when I was lying face-down in Spittle Brook, that we should come to this? I had splashed and squelched the 5.55 miles of the first walk; investigated the remains of Broom Junction in the second and survived the emergency call at the furthest point of walk three. My companions and I have walked 18.27 miles in for The Myton Hospice and I am incredibly grateful to them for their support, sympathy, empathy, chat, laughter, fortified coffee and christmas cake. But now it is time for the last lap; the longest walk of all; some of the muddiest miles around Alcester. On top of which I must return to the site of my soaking in walk one.

We will follow the widest perimeter of The Exercise Yard. We will cross the Roman Way portal and sweep in a wide arc, through Coldcomfort Wood and beyond. Then down to cross The Millennium Way before once more negotiating the stepping stones over The Spittle Brook Interchange. Assuming I survive the water jump we will cross Alcester Heath and re-enter via the little-used Roebuck portal. For sustenance we have coffee, water and a couple of pieces of Slovakian Apple Cake. What could possibly go wrong?

Refreshment stop. We are sitting on the seat at the corner of Newman’s Plantation, a small wood with a view over a large field. Last year I sat here and watched hares scamper and box. But no such luck today. However, the weather is lovely, blue sky, scudding clouds as we sit sipping coffee, munching Slovakian Apple Cake; enjoying the view over Cold Comfort Farm and the wood. We are anticipating the walk along the farm track, past the ruined barn towards the farm buildings where we have a choice. Over the field or the longer route along the lane. We drain our drinks, pack up and set off.

Now we are enjoying a brief water stop at the western edge of the wood. The path continues across the field (see photo at the top). We had decided on the shorter field option earlier. It’s been dry lately so the going was considered “good to firm”. The path through the wood was pretty muddy in places so we detoured along a narrow but drier alternative. So now, out into the sunshine to cross the field and follow the hedge line onward towards my nemesis. The ford over The Spittle Brook.

Not even a wet foot. Would you believe it. I crossed, not with the agility of a gazelle certainly, but effectively and successfully. Now we proceed onward, glowing with unwarranted pride, towards Alcester Heath. Then finally past the house reputed to be once owned by Nigel Mansell and then the tricky pass through The Roebuck portal back into The Exercise Yard.

So there we are. My Marathon complete. The weather was lovely; the going good to firm, muddy in places and the company delightful. Distance walked 7.49 miles. Beautiful, quiet countryside walk. I will be publishing guidance under the Walk tab.