Equipment-wise we have done quite well – there are a few little tweaks, but in general we have everything we need. The one key learning point for me though is the importance of caring for your feet when hiking for multiple days in a row.

The Problem

In general I do not tend to suffer from blisters, which are caused by a combination of heat, sweat and friction. The main reason for this is that I have a comfortable, well worn in, pair of Brasher boots (who are now on Twitter – @BrasherBoot) – and all the advice on the internet is to choose a good pair of boots (see “Top 10 tips for buying walking boots”)

What I do suffer from however is generally very sore feet – as my feet sweat (clean, non-stinky, sweat I hasten to add), the skin wrinkles. As I continue walking these wrinkles get a pounding (especially carrying a full pack), leaving them sore and tender. After our 17 mile walk in Surrey, I was in complete agony, and I would not have been able to do a long walk the following day.

(on the plus side I didn’t really have any major problems with my shoulders, hips or body generally from carry the backpack, albeit without the tent and sleeping bag – a little stiff the next day perhaps, but nothing that would stop me continuing a hike)

The Solution

So I did a little research on the internet, and found a few really helpful posts, firstly “How to take care of your feet when hiking”. The key recommendations are:

• Choose the right hiking boots
• Trim your toenails
• Soften any tough skin (which are subject to hard to treat deep blisters)
• Rest feet when walking

Now my feet are generally in pretty good shape (too much information right?), but the idea of regularly taking off your boots and letting your feet rest and air seems very sound. I was in too minds about whether to take my Holeys with me , but I am now convinced it will be a good idea to give my feet a chance to breath in the evenings (and they are hardly very heavy)!

Another useful blog post, “Avoiding and treating foot blisters for hikers”, as well as giving some useful advice on how to treat blisters, highlights the importance of changing your (decent walking) socks when they get wet – it might sound a little ridiculous, but this is not something I usually do, instead suffering until the end of a walk!

I remember from my days of Duke of Edinburgh that we used to use talcum powder to help keep our feet dry. A few people I have spoken too didn’t think that would be a good idea, however a comment on the Guardian website reminded me of the advantages:

There are some skin protectors on the market, but the best and most successful thing to use is talcum powder in the socks. Not only does talc soak up the sweat (damp socks can cause blisters), but it acts as a lubricant between skin and sock. Use what seems to be an excessive amount of talc to prepare the inside of the sock and on the foot. An extra shot of talc can be put down the heel just before lacing up. Carry a small pot of talc in your rucksack for repairs en route.
Barbara Cross, Nottingham

So on my walk yesterday (over 15 miles across a very wet Northamptonshire with an almost full pack), I put these ideas into practice.

Testing It Out

Before setting off, I ensured my feet were well covered in talcum powder, with an extra few squirts in my socks (remembering to pack the talcum powder!).

For this walk I decided to retry my 1000 mile socks – initially I couldn’t remember why I stopped using them, as they are very comfy!

Every hour or so, when I stopped, I made sure I took my boots and socks off to let my feet dry and breath – and then reapply some talc before continuing the walk. The socks started getting quite damp (that clean, non-smelly sweat again!) but the talc certainly seemed to do the job in stopping it wrinkling my skin.

I foolishly decided against wearing my gaiters, which I quickly regretted due to sheer amount of water on the ground. No matter how careful I was, water ended up splashing (and eventually pouring) into the top of the boot. This made my socks completely waterlogged, however thanks to the talc and the rest breaks, it took a while for my feet to be too badly affected.

Eventually I swapped my socks for a clean dry pair – which felt absolutely amazing – and completed the walk. Despite the tough terrain (thick mud), the dampness and the full pack – my feet were in excellent condition by the end and I could have easily done another walk the following day.

Incidentally the reason I don’t use 1000 mile socks is that they are very difficult to dry – ideally you want socks that you can stick in your sleeping bag to dry over night!

My guide to foot care whilst hiking

1. Make sure you have a decent pair of boots
2. Take plenty of decent hiking socks
3. Change your socks when they get damp (if you do this as early as possible you have a fighting chance to dry them in your sleeping bag)
4. Regularly let your feet rest and breath
5. Regularly apply talc to your feet
6. If it is raining or very damp, wear gaiters to stop water getting into your boots

Do this and your feet, the most important hiking equipment you have, will thank you!

Because dogs aren’t allowed on buses, I usually have to make do with circular routes when I walk locally, so it was a nice change to be able to get a lift (from my very understanding girlfriend) to do an “A to B” walk following part of the Northamptonshire Round (thanks to @TowcesterNews for the recommendation). This leg takes in the view up the huge drive to Castle Ashby, Yardley Chase, Salcey Forest and the villages of Yardley Hastings, Horton, Piddington, and Hartwell. Although there was a lot of road work, the route was very enjoyable.

Northamptonshire Round

The Northamptonshire Round is a 50-mile circular route set up by a bunch of “fellows” (their words) who formed the Ten Foot Club to give a walk or selection of walks to others in recompense for the pleasure they had gained from walks organized by others. It is designed to show people some of the delightful villages and sights around Northamptonshire.

Northamptonshire is a low-rolling and modest Midland county. Most ramblers, contemplating the map in search of a good walk, let their eyes drift briefly across the county before deciding on the Lakes, the Peaks or somewhere with a bit more elevation and glamour.

That’s why the Ten Foot Club has devised a 50-mile circular walk, the Northamptonshire Round, to lure walkers into discovering old deer parks, woods, farmlands, villages and other secrets and overlooked delights.

Telegraph

The Route

The route starts at the foot of the village of Cogenhoe (not pronounced how you might think), and quickly enters some lovely examples of Northamptonshire countryside – peaceful rolling hills, woods and farmland.

Castle Ashby

As you leave Cogenhoe behind you, and prepare to drop down (relatively) to the village of Yardley Hastings, you cross the impressive mile long drive to Castle Ashby. At the time the castle was just a blob on the horizon, but looking at the photos I took really show how big the drive is (it would be brilliant for cantering I am reliably informed!). The photo is towards Castle Ashby, taken about half way up the drive.

The Castle is the result of a licence obtained in 1306, for the Bishop of Coventry, to castellate his mansion in the village of Ashby. The present rebuilding of Castle Ashby was started by Lord Compton in 1574, and the house has been visited by Queen Elizabeth I, King James I, King William III, oh and Sir Elton John [source Wikipedia].

Yardley Hastings

I really liked Yardley Hastings. It seemed likely a perfect example of a middle England village – peaceful, friendly, and picturesque! I have heard of it before, but never visited.

What I liked a lot less is the next part of the route – a quiet country road into Yardley Chase that seems to go on for ever!

Whenever I am walking long stretches of road, I always have the first line of a song from Lord of The Rings rattling around in my head (best sung in the Radio 4 version) which @ydnab40 has kindly provided the rest of:

The road goes ever on and on,
down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the road has gone,
and I must follow if I can,
pursuing it with eager feet,
until it joins some larger way
where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then I cannot say.
Fellowship of the ring, a long expected party

Yardley Chase

Nothing brings you back to reality than the sound of automatic weapons! There I was, minding my own business, reading the various interpretation boards along the footpath (Yardley Chase is an Area of Special Scientific Interest) when suddenly I could hear the sound of rifle fire. Whilst the gunfire continued I passed a wire fence with a hard to view yellow warning sign (the zoomed in photo of which is above – click to enlarge (just like all photos on the site)), and looking at the map there certainly seems to be some suspicious huts marked with little moats – was this some kind of secret Army base?

Well, secret in the sense that it has it’s own Wikipedia page! The huts marked on the map are concrete and were used to store bombs until the 1990s, when the MOD shut them down due to their obvious ineffectiveness in a nuclear strike. The site is now used by the Army and Air cadets and the Territorial Army, which explains the weapon fire (blanks presumably!).  Judging by some of the forums I stumbled across the site, although fairly basic, is well liked by cadets.

The Northamptonshire Round leaves Yardley Chase and, after another long road, passes through the villages of Horton and Piddington (the field between Horton and Piddington was possibly the longest most horrible stretch of sticky mud I have ever walked through!) before turning South to head into Salcey Forest.

Salcey Forest

As it is right next to my village (Hartwell), I have walked a considerable amount of Salcey Forest – the official marked walks, the old (and in my opinion better) routes, the cycle route, the horse route and various other little tracks!

The Northamptonshire Round enters the forest in the North East corner and quickly joins the cycle route (going clockwise) – it was really nice to see so many families out walking on a Sunday afternoon! Just before you hit one of the roads that cross the forest, you turn off onto a darker, more mysterious track – one that I have never walked on before.

The route makes it way through the forest – after a bit of road you rejoin the cycle route briefly before continuing out towards the South West corner of the forest. At this point I turned off the Northamptonshire Round to cut back to Hartwell – my final destination.

The Grafton Way is a 12.5 mile walk between Cosgrove (actually looking at the Ordnance Survey website, it seems to continue down the canal to Wolverton) and Greens Norton, passing past Towcester. The Grafton Way is joined to the North Buckinghamshire Way, The Grand Union Canal Walk, and Ouse Valley Way to the South, and turns into The Knighton Way at Greens Norton. The route is named after the Dukes of Grafton, who were large landowners throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

Both @TowcesterNews and @moolife (both on Twitter) recommended this walk to me (as a training walk for Offa’s Dyke 4 Ms), but I was quite surprised to not be able to find a huge amount of information about it on the web – not even a route map. There are suggestions of a brochure available from the local council, but nothing available online. Fortunately the route is marked on the 1:25000 OS maps, so after marking it in Viewranger, I packed my rucksack, and begged a lift to Greens Norton from my parents to follow the The Graton Way.

Greens Norton

Greens Norton is to the North West of Towcester, and has been on a number walks I have done in the area. The pub, The Butchers Arms, is dog friendly and serves a good pub lunch, and has a good range of beers.

I have to admit to expecting a little more from the start of the route – alright in the grand scheme of things The Grafton Way is hardly a major long distance path, but after leaving the main road through the village, and passing through a housing estate, I did expect more than just a standard Northamptonshire footpath sign with the tiny words “Grafton Way”.

After cutting across a field, the path joins a minor (yet busy) road that heads towards Towcester. At this point I suffered a painful groin muscle twinge that almost had me ringing my parents to be rescued – fortunately, after some very embarrassing muscle stretching in public view, I was able to continue without further complications!

Towcester

Just as you approach Towcester, the route is slightly diverted from the marked path (on my maps certainly), towards the services on the busy A43 dual carriageway - this is so you can safely get across the road using the first horse road crossing I have ever come across (with horse shaped green/red lights!)

Once you have negotiated your way back onto the original route (it is well signposted), you follow along the edge of the field along the South West edge of Towcester. Sadly, like a lot of rural Northamptonshire (and probably elsewhere), this land is under serious threat of development. Public consultation is currently underway to build a horrifying 3000 new homes, 21 ha of employment facilities and a single lane bypass in this area – more information can be found here.

I do hope that should this development goes ahead, then consideration is taken to try and make the impact on The Grafton Way as small as possible, although ultimately you can never replace fields, woods and tranquillity.

As you leave Towcester behind you (the point you turn South is not well signposted),  there are a few fields (muddy at this time of year) to cross before you approach Pury End.

Pury End

Pury End caught me at a particularly good moment – the sun had just come out and the row of cottages look so picturesque – it seemed idyllic. Despite the fact I moan about the lack of stunning landscapes or large hill and mountain ranges in Northamptonshire, there is a kind of simplistic beauty to the rolling farmland and the rural villages and hamlets in the area. It is also quiet – I rarely encounter many walkers out of village bounds – and this level of peacefulness is hard to find anywhere else.

The route from Pury End is quite easy to follow, with some old and battered large while signs marking the route. As you approach Watling Street, originally a Roman road, you pass the site of an old Roman Villa (although admittedly I only know that by a Google search of the names on the map!).

After crossing Watling Street (a very busy road!)  The Grafton Way skirts around Pottersbury Lodge School – a Rudolf Steiner school specialising in children who are on the autism spectrum, including those with Asperger Syndrome.

Yardley Gobion and Pottersbury

Just before you get to Yardley Gobion, you pass the site of the Moor End Castle. Quite surprisingly (I would have expected the site to be historically irrelevant) this castle, which was built in 1347, was regularly visited by Edward III, who built a royal chamber, royal chapel, and rebuilt the gatehouse. All that remains now is the fragments of the original moat (now much altered).

From Moor End Castle, The Grafton Way touches the edge of Yardley Gobion and Pottersbury, before continuing towards Cosgrove, past the lost village of Furtho.

At this point I feel I should mention that Northamptonshire Council clearly don’t expect backpackers to walk along The Grafton Way (or in fact most other footpaths in the County) – the kissing gates are tiny and extremely difficult to navigate with a pack and roll matt! [rant over]

The Lost Village of Furtho

As I approached Furtho, a medieval village, I tried to guess why the village was deserted. I couldn’t decide between the plague (which I believe is why my village just to the North East moved location by two miles), or due to land enclosures.  The answer is land enclosures! Not much remains of the village other then Furtho Farm, a partly 14th century church and a dovecote.

I have to admit to completely missing the dovecote – I was so focused on the church and having a look at the site as marked on the map! It was only later did I come across details. Dovecotes were an important part of the manorial economy, and were a reliable source of meat and eggs – and it is likely, based on when the village was abandoned, that the dovecote would have belonged to the lord of the manor.

The church, which ceased to operate as a church in 1921, is owned by Churches Conservation Trust. On quite a few of the walks I have done recently, I have come across these lasting monuments to long forgotten communities that, for one reason or another, have ceased to exist.

Cosgrove

Finally The Grafton Way finishes at Cosgrove (you can continue on following the Grand Union Canal Walk towards Wolverton and Milton Keynes).

I thoroughly enjoyed the walk – the countryside was quiet and peaceful, with subtle remnants of the area’s historical past. The Grafton Way itself is quite easy, there aren’t any major climbs, and even carrying a full(ish) pack I wasn’t completely dead by the end – definately recommended for anyone looking for an enjoyable and interesting walk through historic Northamptonshire.

Of course, like all good walks, this one ended in the pub. The Barley Mow in Cosgrove is an Everards pub, so it sells my second (only to banana bread beer) favourite beer – Tiger. You simply cannot beat resting your feet in a pub garden (although it was a little cold) with your dog and pint of nice beer of an enjoyable walk!

After the excesses of Christmas and spending a lot of time in bed with various bouts of illness (what is it about evolving colds that won’t go away this winter!) the Offa’s Dyke team (well everyone except Alex) decided to break in the new year  with a 13 mile walk around the Northamptonshire countryside South of Daventry.

I have to admit to starting to run out of local countryside near where I live to walk around – if I was more organised it would be quite easy to get up early and, within an hour or so, end up in gorgeous hilly countryside (Derbyshire, The Malverns, and the Chilterns are really not that far away), but once again I left it to the last minute, and had to rely on trusty Viewranger to knock together a local route.

The circular route I chose started in Everdon, just South of Daventry. From there we walked over Everdon Hill to Fawlsey Hall, a manor house as early as 7th Century – although now a luxury hotel, spa and conference centre. We then headed South, joining the Jurassic Way to Woodford Halse, passing the lost settlement of Church Charwelton (just the parish church of Charwelton remains, isolated from the village).

After my decision to walk Offa’s Dyke in April, I seem to have become more interested in these, seemingly random, long distance routes. The Jurassic Way follows the jurassic limestone ridge between Banbury and Stamford, although most of it’s 88 mile route is in Northamptonshire. The Explore Northamptonshire website has the loveliest description of the route – which probably shouldn’t surprise me considering it’s aim is to market the county.

From Church Charwelton, we then cut back East towards Farthingstone, and finally turning North to return to Everdon.

I do enjoy walking in rural Northamptonshire – we might not have stunning scenery and breath taking views, but we do have lots of rolling pastures,  small isolated woods and picturesque villages. There is also the added bonus that, outside the villages, you are unlikely to meet another walker (especially perhaps considering it was hovering around freezing for most of the day!).

With Offa’s Dyke now only months away, it was great to be joined by Karen and her daughter for their first official training walk. They were both testing out some equipment they got for Christmas, especially new walking boots and rucksacks, which held up really well (no blisters). They both had no problems with the walk, and we all remained in good spirits which, considering how cold it was at times, was no mean feat!

For my part, this my first walk carrying significant weight on my back. I loaded my new Berghaus C71 with as much equipment as I could find – other than the cooker and the tent, I think I probably wasn’t too far off the amount of equipment I am likely to be carrying – it weighed in at 30lbs!

Considering this was the first time I have walked with a heavy backpack for over 15 years (I used to be in the cadets in my youth, so had my fair share of carrying equipment over Dartmoor and Exmoor!) I didn’t do too badly. My feet were a little sore on the soles, although that faded a few hours after we finished, and my hips were bruised (the tenderness faded by lunchtime the next day). The backpack itself was brilliant – the Bioflex system really helped spread the weight and made life much easier when the dog does pull.

However with only just over two months remaining before we start, I really need to get out there walking more – this walk was after all only the equivalent to an easiest day on Offa’s Dyke!

This is a beautiful, enjoyable and not too strenious (well moderate) circular walk from Beddgelert. The walk goes along the exciting Pass of Aberglaslyn, then up the hill overlooking Beddgelert, before droping down sharply to the lake Llyn Dinas, and finally making it’s way back to Beddgelert, via the Sygun Copper Mine.

This walk gives an excellent taster to Snowdonia -- part scenic gorge walk, part upland boggy moorland with glimpses of Wales’ mining heritage and with beautiful views across the valley to the mountains around Beddgelert. It is perfect to escape from the tourist trap of Beddgelert, or if you want to avoid the higher mountainous areas (due to weather or fatique!)

I have done this walk about six or so times now -- and I am still not bored of it. For some reason I always start from the main car park in Beddgelert (£3 for half a day or £5 for the day off the top of my head!), perhaps so I am sure of a pub at the end, but you can also start the walk from a car park near Nantmoor.

Beddgelert

Beddgelert (meaning Gelert’s grave) is, at peak,  jammed full of  tourists -- for good reason as it is picturesque, with a pretty bridge over the river Colywn, and there are plenty of pubs, cafes, and hotels. The Beddgelert tourism site claims that “Beddgelert is undoubtedly Snowdonia’s loveliest village” (something backed up by the Snowdonia Guide) -- and do you know what, I would probably agree.

There is a wonderful legend relating to Beddgelert -- something I was blissfully unaware of until a chatty old chap on the hilltop told me my dog was like Gelert. The legend is that Gelert was a dog, owned by Llywelyn the Great -- Prince of Gwynedd, who is supposed to be buried nearby (hence Gelert’s grave). This trip was the first time I have actually visited the grave, where there is a memorial plaque:

‘In the thirteenth century, Llywellyn, Prince of North Wales had a palace at Beddgelert. One day he went hunting without Gelert,’the faithful hound’, who was unaccountably absent. On Llywellyn’s return the truant, stained and smeared with blood, joyfully sprang to his master. The prince, alarmed, hastened to find his son and saw the infant’s cot empty, the bedclothes and floor covered with blood. The frantic father plunged his sword into the hound’s side, thinking it had killed his heir. The dog’s dying yelp was answered by the child’s cry. Llywellyn searched and discovered his boy unharmed, but nearby lay the body of a mighty wolf, which Gelert had slain. The prince filled with remorse, is said never to have smiled again. He buried Gelert here.’

What a wonderful story (I can just imagine my dog doing the same), but it is of course complete rubbish. The story has Celtic origins, and was embellished by an eighteenth century innkeeper of the Goat Hotel, David Pritchard, eager to foster the tourist trade and it was he who was responsible for the grave (the actual Gelert is likely to be a Celtic Saint). The Goat Hotel is still in Beddgelert and, for the record, serves a very nice pint of Guinness!

Pass of Aberglaslyn

Following the river downstream, you quickly leave the tourists behind. After crossing the newly rebuilt railway line, the river starts to narrow and you enter the ravine.

There are many gorgous places in Snowdonia, but this is quite possibly one of my favourites. The path starts quite sedately, but quickly becomes harder going as you have to navigate around and over rocks, along narrow ledges (there are hand holds!) and over small bridges with the waters churning just below you -- it is quite spectacular!

The first time I did this walk, in 2007, it was just after the huge floods across the country. The path had been closed off previously, as the river had flooded so badly that it had even partially destroyed the bridge at Nantmoor (no mean feat) -- the path had just reopened for my walk, but the river was still seething angrily down the ravine.

Hill Climb

At the Nantmoor bridge, the walk bears to the left, past a National Trust carpark, and starts climbing North East following a small valley and river upstream (it is marked on the map as Cwm Bychan, which means ‘’small valley’). As you come out of the trees, after an initial fairly steep climb -- there is a lovely spot next to a small waterfall to the right -- very tranquil!

The valley continues climbing steady (but not steeply) towards the top of the hill (it actually goes around the actual summit). Along the way there are various scattered remains of the hill’s mining past -- this whole area has been mined since the Roman times (rather than describe them, you can see them in the video below!)

At the top, there are some great views across the valley towards Moel Hebog (another, much more strenuous, enjoyable walk!). From here a steep path winds down the hillside to the shores of Llyn Dinas. snowdoniaguide.com sheds some light on the origins of the name:

The lake derives its name from the nearby hillfort of Dinas Emrys, the remains of medieval and Dark Age fortifications. The fort provided shelter for the British king Vortigern, who escaped into Wales from the invading Anglo-Saxons. After the demise of Vortigern, the fort became the property of Aurelius Ambrosius, known as Emrys Wledig or the Emperor, from which the present name of the fort derives

Legend states the lake to have been the site of a battle between Owein, one of Arthur’s greatest warriors, and a giant. According to legend, Vortigern is said to have hidden the throne of Britain beneath a great stone by Llyn Dinas.

The lake is certainly very picturesque! From the lake follow the river back towards Beddgelert via the Sygun Copper Mine. I have to admit that, despite having visited the area many times over the last few years, I have never visited the Copper Mine. I would love to one day, but I always have the problem of what to do with the dog!

Whilst finishing this post (several months after starting it!) I came across this brilliant video, filmed in 2008,  showing Beddgelert and some snippets from this walk -- it is well worth watching!

The walk starts and ends in Churchtown near St Breward – Churchtown meaning, unsurprisingly “that settlement in a parish where the church stands” (what did I expect?).

The description of Bodmin Moor with its granite skies, howling winds and stark isolation are an appropriate background for a story that includes drunkenness, theft, smuggling, wrecking, murder and madness.
From a review of Jamaica Inn

Jamaica Inn is a Gothic horror adventure written by Daphne Du Maurier in 1935, based around Jamaica Inn, a famous base for smugglers, situated in the middle of Bodmin Moor between Bodmin and Launceston.

On a recent Offa’s Dyke 4 MS training weekend, and after quite a lengthy planning process, we did two Jamaica Inn themed walks across the moor.

This post covers the first walk - from the former mining village of Minions, up Stowe’s Hill (and the Cheesewring) before dropping down into a more desolote part of the moor and a climb to the summit of Kilmar Tor, which towers over Tewortha, home to Jem Merlin, the brother of the landlord of Jamaica Inn.

The walk started in Minions, on the south east edge of Bodmin Moor.  Minions is the highest village in Cornwall (according to Wikipedia) and was built as accomodation for the miners for the nearby Phoenix United Mine, which mined tin and copper.

The area’s mining past is very obvious – with a number of engine houses clearly visible. Just to the north of Minions is the recently restored Houseman’s Engine House, which houses a permanent exhibition on the history and nature of the surrounding area. We didn’t actually go in, but the engineer in me couldn’t help have a read through a few websites (like the Cornish Mining World Heritage site) to find out how the engine houses worked.

Just to the west of the village are the Hurlers which, due to a tactic car park blunder (we almost parked in the Hurlers carpark, but decided to move to the car park to the east of the village), we didn’t see. The Hurlers are three bronze age stone circles:

The local legend has it that some of the local men were playing a Cornish game known as hurling on the Sabbath and were turned into stone as punishment.
Source: Cornwall Online

From either car park there are paths leading northwards towards Stowe’s Hill – avoiding the mine shafts and quarries (most are fenced off). From the east carpark, you can easily follow the route of what was presumably formerly the train track for the mine.

At the top of Stowe’s Hill is the Cheesewring (as it looks like a cheesewring – a press-like device that was previously used to make cheese) - an inverse tapered granite pillar 8 metres in height and made up of stone rings one on top of the other. The legend of the Cheesewring is a great example of Christian propaganda:

A local legend about this rock formation is the result of a contest between a man and a giant. When Christianity had just been introduced to the British Islands, the giants who lived at the top of the mountains were not happy about it. The Saints had invaded their land and were declaring their wells as sacred.

One of the larger giants, Uther, was given the task of ridding their land of the Saints. He confronted the frail St Tue, who proposed a rock throwing contest. If the Uther won, the Saints would leave Cornwall. If St. Tue won, then the giants would convert to Christianity.

Uther took his turn first and easily threw a small rock to the top of nearby Stowe’s Hill. St. Tue prayed for assistance, and picking up a huge slab found it was very light. One after the other, they threw their rocks, stacking them up in perfect piles. When the score was 12 stones each, Uther threw a thirteenth stone, but it rolled down the hill. St. Tue picked up this fallen stone, and as he lifted it, an angel appeared to carry it to the top of the pile of rocks. Seeing this, Uther conceded and most of the giants decided to follow Christianity after that.

Source – Wikipedia

During quarrying operations, precaution was taken to protect the Cheesewring by adding a stone support to underpin the main stem – the support doesn’t actually touch the stem, which just go to show how stable this amazing geological feature is considering the quarry is just behind it!

From Stowe’s Hill we worked our way down North West towards Wardbrook Farm. Here we encountered one of those annoyances (yet understandable) problems with open access. There is a footpath leading up to the farm, a tiny area of private track, which then continues back into open access land. We had hoped to be able to sneak down the private track – however we are clearly not the only ones to have thought of this, and a big “No public right of way” sign put us off!

Instead we followed the fence to the south of the farm, on the edge of Witheybrook Marsh.  There is a fairly clear, although occasionally boggy, path. By the time the fenced area had finished, we had Kilmar Tor in our sights. Well not exactly, it had started to drizzle, and visibility has rapidly decreasing – I even had to take out my compass (brushing off the cobwebs, as I don’t think I have ever used it in anger) to take a bearing for us to follow!

“Kilmar Tor reigns like some ancient monarch, its jagged grey summits stabbing into wide skies: a ridge of balancing rocks, Nature’s own marvellous sculpture. Time has hardly touched this terrain.”

Michael Williams (Unknown Cornwall) ~ 1984

Kilmar Tor is wonderfully desolute – the very narrow but long peak is covered in granite blocks (with hindsight, nothing compared to Rough Tor, but still impressive). Rather than taking the perhaps easier route of walking along the edge of the rocks until spotting the trig point, we instead decided to clamber over them – it took forever. The dog was in her element – who knew a rescue dog that had never even been walked had mountain goat ancestors! Finally we reached the trig point – the first trig point I have ever come across which is not at the highest point (it was infact nestled between two granite bolders!).

My photos completely fail to do Kilmar Tor justice – however I came across the PhotoFile Cornwall website, which has some awesome photos – it is definitely worth having a look!

After a brief pause to admire the view across Twelve Men’s Moor and Trewortha (home to Jem Merlin, the brother of the landlord of Jamaica Inn), we took another bearing across to Bearah Tor (I was more than a little excited to get to use the compass for a second time!).

Thanks again to the problems of open access we could either double back on ourselves, or take the direct route. Chosing the direct route made the rest of the walk, in truth, rather dull. From Bearah Tor we took the miners track down towards the local road. We then followed the local road through Henwood until finally making it back to Minions. It was only the pack of nuts and chocoate raisons that got us home!

The second walk is an ascent of Brown Willy, the highest point of Cornwall. The walk also takes in, as well as some interesting landmarks like King Arthurs Hall, Rough Tor – the setting for the dramatic scene at the end of the book.

The second walk is an ascent of Brown Willy, the highest point of Cornwall. The walk also takes in, as well as some interesting landmarks like King Arthurs Hall and Rough Tor – the setting for the dramatic scene at the end of Jamaica Inn. Details to be posted shortly!

After an enjoyable weekend of walking on Bodmin Moor, I thought now would be a good time to share how I go about planning where to walk. You see, when I am off walking (or is it hiking?) in a new place, I have a bit of planning regime. It is a bit sad, but please indulged me.

[This was orginally going to be about the walks themselves, but I got a little distracted - I promised to blog about them tomorrow!]

First – I buy maps. I already had the OS Landranger map for half of the moor but, helped by the combination of the discovery of cheap OS maps on Amazon and Amazon Prime (free next day delivery), it was a mere 24 hours before I had the other OS Landranger, the Bodmin Moor OS Explorer, and several Viewranger map downloads.

I love maps, especially Ordnance Survey maps – something which perhaps harks back to my Geography lessons when I was ten, when I found the map symbols strangly magical. I am not a map geek though – one of my friends takes Ordnance Survey map enjoyment to an extreme, and reading “Map Addict” (review to follow) shows that even he is rather tame in comparison to some map addicts out there. However, whilst not being a map geek, I am rather fond of pouring over maps looking for interesting places to walk.

Secondly – I rumage through my walk compendiums. I have two – the most recent are the walk (ride, cycle, drive, and train) routes that Countryfile magazine dishes out each week (sorted neatly into piles for each area of the country). My older collection is “Out & About” – one of those collectable magazines (are they officially called partworks?) where issue one is 99p, and each subsequent one is significantly more pricey.

As a child, I was allowed one subscription at any one time. Some subscriptions were better than others and, although this one was actually quite good, I can’t actually remember ever actually walking any of the routes with my family. The collection had collected dust in my cupboard until only last year when I rediscovered them whilst my parents were moving house. The routes are nice (albeit quite short) walks, with accomponying OS maps and a summary of the history and wildlife around you.

Thirdly – I dive on the internet  to find useful websites with walk ideas, tips and reviews of the area, especially on sites like go4awalk.co.uk which has an excellent selection of printable walks. I also have a browse through the avaliable Viewranger downloadable walks to see what there is on offer.

There weren’t actually many sites with walks on Bodmin Moor – go4awalk had one, but other than generic descriptions of walking on the moor, there wasn’t much to go on elsewhere.  My “Out & About” collection had a short walk from Minions, and the Countryfile cards also had a couple of short walks. Short walks are ok, but if I have any hope of getting fit enough to tackle Offa’s Dyke next year, I need something more challenging (and when camping, it is handy to tire the dog out too!)

It was the “Bodmin Moor” Countryfile walk card which caught my eye, not for the walk itself, but for the mention of Jamaica Inn.

“Step into the landscape that inspired Daphne Du Maurier to write her tale of murder, deceit and smugglers on Bodmin Moor”

It sounded intriguing, and I was pleased to discover the unabridged audiobook from Audible. At last some inspiration and something to get myself into a suitable mood for Bodmin Moor. It was a thoroughly enjoyable story, and it seemed appropriate to plan walks which relate to areas mentioned in the book. Suddenly everything clicked into place.

Not too far North of Minions is Kilmar Tor, ‘his slope a venomous grey,’ which towers over Tewortha, home to Jem Merlin, the brother of the landlord of Jamaica Inn. Suddenly the short walk from Minons, exploring the old quarrys and the Cheesewring, can be combined with some compass navigation across the moor to Kilmar Tor – an exciting walk!

The second walk chosen was a variation of the go4awalk.co.uk one – which is a fairly strenious 11 mile hike over Brown Willy, the highest point of Cornwall. The walk also takes in, as well as some interesting landmarks like King Arthurs Hall, Rough Tor – the setting for the dramatic scene at the end of the book. The route needed a little adapting, as after looking at the OS maps, I wasn’t completely happy with the start, but it takes in some great parts of the moor.

Planning  good long walks is not easy – most walk guidebooks seem to only included shorter ones, which leaves the dog with far too much energy! But all it takes is a map and some inspiration, and you can easily create some wonderful walks! Both these walks had a nice combination of adventure, enjoyment and exertion , and I look forward to blogging about them tomorrow!

It’s distinctive shape from the south-west has earned The Cnicht the title of ‘The Welsh Matterhorn’.

It is an interesting steep ascent, with some scrambling at the end, followed by a gentle walk along the more wilder ridge beyond to the disused Rhosydd and Croesor slate quarries before descending back into Croesor.

It was a beautiful sunny day, the day after climing the Nantlle Ridge, that a group of friends and I arrived in Croesor, ready to climb The Cnicht.

On the route from Beddgelert (Croesor is about 15 minutes drive), you don’t really get to see much of the Cnicht. Not until the final approach to Croesor on the tiny single track road, off the A4085, do you get a glimpse of it’s profile.

The mountain gets its name from the old English word ‘knight’, the silent ‘k’ being pronounced at that time. It is said that the shape of the mountain bears a similarity with a knight’s helmet.
Source – Wikipedia

I have to admit having just spent a happy hour or so flicking through ‘The History of Chivalry and Armor’ (translated from the original 19th century French edition) – looking at the gorgeous colourful illustrations, trying to find a picture of a helmet in the shape of The Cnicht. I presume it is named after some kind of conical Anglo-Saxon helmet?

So, armed with a downloadable Viewranger guided walk, we set off. The free carpark was full, but there we managed to find some on road parking nearby. The climb is progressively steady, only becoming very strenous towards the peak. The views as you ascend quickly become fantastic, especially across to Porthmadog and Tremadog Bay.

There is a sheltered plateau, just below the peak, which makes a lovely resting point before tackling the final ascent, which requires some enjoyable hands on scrabbling. The views from the summit are spectacular – rather than my slightly inferior photos, I have found this wonderful 360 degree panorama on the BBC website.

From the summit, there is a gentle, easy to follow, route along the ridge to a pair of lakes – Llynnau Diffwys. From here, the route we were following continues to the disused Rhosydd and Croesor slates quarries. However at this point the troops were restless, and the pub was calling (well it was a hot day!) So rather than exploring the quarries, we took the more direct footpath past the resevoir and down to what was presumably originally the quarry supply road.

It was a shame not to have had the time to explore the quarries – slate mining has played such an important part in the history and geography of this part of Britain. I did intend to write about both quarries, but it just doesn’t seem right without having at least looked around them (well the parts that are accessible anyway)! So I guess that I will have to come back, not just to visit the quarries, but to also tackle the neighouring peaks of Moelwyn Mamw and Moelwyn Back. I am already looking forward to it!

Often described as a classic ridge walk, The Nantlle Ridge has a fairly strenous climb, some great views (especially across to Snowdon), some exciting scrabling (Grade 1 apparantly), and a ridge with some dramatic sheer drops.

The Nantlle Ridge, well at least the part including the peaks of Y Garn, Drws-y-Coed and Trum y Ddysgl, has been my nemisis. The walk isn’t too difficult (I think it is classed as “Moderate”), but the last two attempts I have made I have been forced back by the weather.

This part of the Nantlle Ridge is accessible from Rhyd-Ddu, off the A4085 (just North of Beddgelert). The route map and guide are available from go4awalk.com, or is available to download as a guided walk direct to your phone with Viewranger. I also stumbled across a free walk description on the Walking Britain website.

The first time I attempted this climb was in August 2008. It was a rainy week of camping on the Lleyn Pennisular, and in my infinite wisdom, I decided to undertake my first mountain climb by attempting the Nantlle Ridge. By the time I had got to the first peak of Y Garn, I could barely see my hand in front of my face. Fortunately a friendly fellow walker on his way down from Drws-y-Coed, recommended that as a novice it would not be sensible to attempt to go further, so I abandoned the climb and headed back to the pub in Rhyd-Ddu. With hindsight, after seeing some of the drops and the scrabling, this was a very sensible decision!

The second attempt at The Nantlle Ridge was in December 2008. It was a surprisingly nice day for December – sunny, clear skys, and not too cold once you got started. I was with a group of friends – we made it to Y Garn with no problems, but as we started the scrable up to Drws-y-Coed, the moss on the rocks higher up became icy and slippy. This was causing problems to both the dog and a friend with no grip on her walking boots, so we decided to turn back rather than having any mishaps – with hindsight we had actually reached the final boulder with an easier path to follow behind, but better to be safe than sorry.

So on a hot May afternoon, Alex and I decided to tackle the ridge from the other side. Rather than taking the direct steep ascent upto Y Garn, we continued to follow the path from Rhyd Ddu into Beddgelert Forest.

I have to admit that I am not very fond of Beddgelert Forest, a Forestry Commission forest mainly planted with conifers and broadleaves – my experience of it has been either trudging along wide and dull roads, or, after a decent from Moel Lefn, following a footpath that was more swamp than path (and associated biting insects).

The forest path climbs slowly but steadily – but once through the forest, you begin the ascent to Trum y Ddysgl in anger. The final quarter of a mile is a killer walking up an extremely steep grass slope – but once on the ridge, the views are amazing, especially across the ridge to Drws-y-Coed. After a well earned rest, we followed the ridge – trying not to think about the jaw dropping cliff to our left – to Drws-y-Coed and then scrambled down to Y Garn. After enjoying the spectacular 360 degree views, especially across to Snowdon, we dropped steeply down to Rhyd-Ddu and a well earning pint (or two) in the pub!

I am really glad to have finally managed to beat (at least this part) of the Natille Ridge. My inability to successfully complete the walk was really starting to knock my confidence in my, and my dog’s ability, to climb mountains. She incidentally absolutely loved the walk – she is like a mountain goat leaping from stone to stone, and was completely unphased by the sheer drops!

Throughout the walk, Alex (who is joining me on Offa’s Dyke for MS next year) and I discussed how this walk is only half of what is expected in just one day of the forteen day Offa’s Dyke walk. To quote Alex, we are going to have to “man up”!