A Ramble Round

11th May 2009

This was a spur of the moment ramble. I knew I wanted to walk but hadn't fixed on where. It was a case of finding a car park and saying "Right, this'll do", putting on my boots and going.

The sun was warm, the wind was fresh.

I stopped at a favourite spot, Whitefield Moor just outside Brockenhurst. There are a lot of visitor areas around here: there's the Ober Water Walk from Puttles Bridge, the Ornamental Drive and Blackwater Arboretum further along, a Nature Reserve at Poundhill Heath and a caravan park.

I followed the Ober Water Trail because it's pretty and I was in the mood for something sweet. There was no one else about, being right on tea-time, and I was having a lovely time while other people were sweltering in the traffic jam around Lyndhurst.

At the second bridge, my way turned north into Aldridgehill and past the cottage across Fletchers Green to Fletchers Thorns and round on to Poundhill Heath. All of this is very open with good cover for ground-nesting birds.

Leaving Poundhill Heath to join the cycle track in the north-east corner there is a large field on the left which is generally full of deer. Today, the gate was open and the mass of deer had been joined by a few mares and foals.





The track continues through a gate into Hursthill Inclosure (which is featured in this month's Country Walking magazine) which is lovely at the moment with the new fresh green bracken crowded with bluebells. Many intriguing paths lead off from the main cycle way, and eventually I was seduced by a green path with bluebell border, down to a gate.

The path turns south, running along beside the fence of an Inclosure to the left, and I have walked this before. I followed this path northward on the previous occasion, kept going north, and being rather new to it all at the time, got lost and ended up in Foxlease Park (oops!)

This time going south, I knew where I was going and soon bore left alongside Highland Water, yes, the very same that runs down from Holmhill Inclosure further north.

Returning to the eastern loop of the cycle track I followed this over Bolderford Bridge, where I met a young woman on a white pony whom I had glimpsed cantering through the woodland. After an exchange of the usual pleasantries, she rode her pony into the river to cool its feet and I crossed the bridge and set off down along the ride across Ober Heath. The young woman on her white pony soon passed me and cantered off across the Heath into the trees further down.

At the driveway to the caravan park I turned right along the lane towards Ober Water, which meets Highland Water near Bolderford Bridge, and found a vague path (unmarked) that runs alongside the water so that I didn't have to follow the long drive all the way back. 'Ware tree roots on this path!

Although there is a good path that runs up from the bridge towards where I had parked the car, I chose another little off-road path winding through the heather and later crossed the drive to walk along the lawn of Whitefield Moor back to the car park.

It was a lovely evening and a lovely walk, picked by metaphorically sticking a pin in a map. I think I might try that again.

Tales from the River Bank

8th May 2009

This entry is verbatim what I wrote on the riverbank at Busketts Lawn. By the way, it didn't rain.

I started this walk feeling that sick-sensation that I think I must attribute to anxiety. About what? I couldn't say.

I am now sat on the bank of Bartley Water and I can see my "photograph" to my right. I have just walked along it.

I can't stop for long as it's taken me about an hour to get here. Despite the wind, I'm just wearing my base-layer top and sitting on my fleece which will need a wash!

The first cycle-track was pleasant and I met a very sweet-natured golden labrador who required head stroking and sat down beside me with a sweet expression. Apparently she can be quite growly and barky with nervous dogs.

The side track to Gutter Heath was pleasant enough, a bit hoof-pocked, but a narrow path ran alongside it. A gate and a footbridge, muddy stuff and then the heath with a boggy bit. I did the Forest-thing and put down bits of branch and twig to make a crossing. I used my compass to keep on track through the trees where there isn't a path and found Plain Green where there is a broad ride which is good going and makes a nice walk along the Green. I managed to confuse myself at one point when I wasn't paying attention, thinking I was heading west when I was actually heading N/E (which was what my compass was telling me!) - the way I wanted to go.

I followed the ride round to the right, negotiated the stream which later becomes the river, and passed through the gate into the Inclosure on bridleways that are easy to walk - for bridleways - not too much mud or pocks. Where the river comes down almost to the bridleway, I left the bridleway and hopped across the ditch on to the footpath beside the water. I followed the winding way to here, with the wind rushing through the treetops, the water nattering over the stones of the ford, and occasionally a snatch of birdsong. All green with glimpses of sun and no one about.

Ah well, it's half past 3 and I must make tracks back to the car. I wanted to be heading home at 4. Maybe half past, then. Hope the traffic's not too - oh damn! it's Friday.

What I didn't write because I was walking again by then, is that coming back to the gate at Yewtree Hill I noted that I was calm, relaxed, unanxious, unworried and had a general sense of well-being. I was chilled. I knew I'd be a little later back to the car and I'd curtailed the intended path along the river to the next footbridge, but time was bothering me on an any level I was aware of. I think I might take my journal with me on all my walks. Hm, I may need to unearth my rucksack again.

The best laid cliches and positivity

7th May 2009

Mice sleep, men (and women) stare glumly out of the window, and I spend hours poring over maps until the hours dawn on me and I cast the maps away.

Yes, it's a dull day that doesn't even have any rain to make it interesting. It's a bit breezy but nothing to really make the sea pound. It's one of those dull days that makes you thankful it's spring and there's a bit of bright green to alleviate the dullness. It isn't even gloomy or brooding; nor is there a touch of brightness, except something like a weak smile of sunlight that's swiftly gone. It's like the day is sulking.

However! I have at last put away my maps and waiting for the better rain tomorrow which will make the woodlands come alive with water. I've just acquired a new Tilley hat ...

... and Peter Storm trousers (they've been in their own pocket hence the fashionable crinkled effect) ...

so I'm looking forward to trying them out!

I've also aquired a photoprinter and have come to realise the difference between what makes a picture and what qualifies as a snapshot.

I have an idea for scrapbooking my walking life using my photos, plagiarising my own blog and getting a footprint stamp so I can stamp little ramlbing footprints all through the scrapbook.

So much for Experiment Thursday, trying out new walks and expanding my comfort zone. This is not an expandable day. It's just dull. Roll on the rain tomorrow!

Ashurst Circular

5th May 2009

This was a blissful walk. All grey and windy over Southampton and many diversions around the 4pm rush hour (? - trust me!); all shiny and warm out in the New Forest. Peace, quiet, birdsong and singing streams.

I parked at Bolton's Bench, just down the road from the Lyndhurst Maserati showrooms. Boots and gaiters on, stick in hand (was I expecting mud?) and compass not far from reach I set off up alongside the drive to the cricket pavilion towards the cemetery where the walk really begins.

The underpass from this White Moor (there are several) to the golf course was muddy and puddly and the entrance full of ponies that looked like they started off knowing what they were doing and forgot half way down the track.

Round to the right of the golf course with much envy of two girls cantering along ahead on their steeds and into Rushpole Wood. Over the footbridge and following the route quite happily. Turn north west - still quite happily. Find the switchback path, heading north east - and still happy - pretty woodlands, lots of green, a bit rutted and muddy, last years fallen leaves turned brown and crunchy ... where's the path?

I found the south east one. I found the north west one. (Didn't look for the south west one, didn't want to go that way - either). Could I find the north east one? I can find north east on my compass but not on the ground. Oh well, the north west one will take me to Plain Green. Then that one dies.

Cast about. Cast about. I'm aiming for north east, so off I go. Sod it! And find the rest of the north west path (where did it go/come from?).

Arrive at Plain Green and to the right is the gate into the Inclosure. Off I go. And pass the exit to the north east path I was looking for.

Anyway ... off I go again. Happily find the footbridge and soon the gate into Busketts. A hoof-pocked track that can be avoided by a narrow path of necessity along the edge of the pine trees up to the cycle track. This wide reprieve doesn't have time to pall too much before I turn right and expect to come across the footbridge somewhere down the way. The path is pleasant, birds singing, a cuckoo calling and so descends one of those moments where you are suddenly aware of the peacefulness of your surroundings.

The river. No footbridge. A ford. And I think I've found the outskirts of Lothlorien (above photo).

The path to the ford has large cobbles in it and the ford itself looks like a broken bit of old road. The crossing is made of slightly submerged stepping stones. There are four corners of high bank all grassy and studded with speedwell, violets and other woodland spring flowers. The water sings over the stones, and here I stopped and sat on the bank to take in water and munch a bakey cakey.

As on Saturday, I discovered an unmarked path that runs alongside the river. It seems to wander away from the river at times, but only because the river is very windy. This was a digression from the route I had plotted, but I never turn down a riverbank ramble.

So out on to a cycle track again, a little way from the bridge and ford I crossed the last time I was in Busketts. I turned away from it this time, however, and along the cycle track for a little way before my way went off to the left. A left fork and to a gate and out on to Woodlands Road. Turn right here and at the end of the road left along Southampton Road over the railway and into Ashurst. Cross at the lights (buy a Mars Bar in the newsagents), turn right to go back over the bridge and soon turn left into Ashurst Caravan site.

Now, I thought kittens were cute, but the prize for cuteness must go to Shetland pony foals. They don't gangle like normal foals; they have little sturdy legs and are just ... CUTE!! There should be a law against that much cuteness.

I'm fine.

Past the Shetland mare and her foal (too cute!!) and on into the woodland alongside the railway. Two trains whizz past. I stop to take a photo of the bridge ahead through the trees - the open-worked wrought iron is painted a pale blue. Ponies were ambling along it, right in front of a cyclist, who was very good and patient; a few moments later he whizzed past me ...

Of course, the ponies took the path I was aiming for and as time was now getting on I didn't really have the option of changing course now. What made it slightly awkward was that two of the mares had very young foals with them. However, it's no problem to walk off the path to give them plenty of space and as they were keeping pace with the youngsters I soon past them. It was very touching to see the chestnut mare stop twice and touch her foal as if to reassure it.

The path goes around the edge of Ashurst Lodge and strikes out across the moor to Longwater Lawn through which bright green oasis in all the heather the Beaulieu River flows with white flowers in the rippling water. By now the light had become deep and rich and the surroundings green-golden.

Off the Lawn and across Foxhill Moor and into trees where the path remained clear ahead and soon out to White Moor again, with the sun gilding the trees and the pale ghost of the moon hanging in blue sky between lace ribbons of cloud.

I met a Springer spaniel which was keen to explain in visual terms why the breed is so called, bouncing after rabbits and bits of branch.

As the evening just got lovelier and lovelier, I came back alongside the stone wall of the cemetery and all the chaps in their whites playing cricket, just in time to see a well-taken wicket. Much polite applause, which clacks pleasantly on the air and sounds so English.

And so back to the car wrapped in a hug of blissfulness, that hasn't yet left me as I sit tapping at my keyboard and recalling the glow of the evening and the pleasure of the walk.

Highland Water Wander

2nd May 2009

One of my favourite walks with a little difference.

Many are the routes within routes (or even outside them) that can be plotted along the New Forest network of pathways. And it becomes even better when you discover a path that isn't shown on the map.

I can't actually take credit for finding this unmarked path that wanders along the river banks of Highland Water. I only discovered it after spotting a man and his dog walking among the trees close to the river on a previous walk. So today I went exploring and found this treasure that takes you off the main trails. No sound except the water trickling over stones and fallen branches, and birdsong.

Being unofficial and unmanaged, however - probably a pony or forest ranger track - the path is subject to the vagueries of the Forest and the Inclosures. About half way along the course the path becomes lost in deep ruts and channels and the scattered ruins of "forest operations". It may be passable but I prefer to be able to look about me when I'm walking along, and not staring at my feet and the ground.

At a suitable junction I turned left away from the river and up a grass slope to a pleasant path that I hadn't trodden before and, to be honest, only realised was on the map when I checked to see where I was going from this point.

The walk proceeds along a cycle track for a little way before, at a sharp left hand bend in the cycle track, going straight ahead along another grass track up to a gate and out into the dip below Mogshade Hill where there is a ford and wooden footbridge across the Water. From here up to Stonnard Wood and then into the trees again.

I stopped at the bench at Hart Hill for some water and jaffa cakes before descending on to the path and began to wend my way back along hoof-pocked grassways, through gates and over footbridges (across Bagshot Gutter this time), eventually coming back to the banks of Highland Water, studded with violets, celandine and bluebells and with a cuckoo calling in the distance.

And so to the car park and home.