Journal:
I woke twice
during the night with my tent collapsed on me.
I still haven't mastered using my trekking pole as a
tent pole yet, especially when it's windy, but think
I know how to fix it next time. I woke to hear
it raining, as forecast, at about 3am, and it was
still raining continuously, though not heavily, when
I got up at 6:30am. It took me about 30
minutes to sort out everything and pack as much as I
could inside the tent, which had remained quite dry.
Then came fervent activity to get out of the tent,
keep everything dry and take down and pack up the
tent. That went OK, although I began to feel
quite cold and decided I needed to put on my Goretex
long pants (for the first time on the trip) and my
second sweater. That made me feel a bit better
and I set out across the rain- and wind-swept
moorland. I would have preferred it to be
clear with views, but it's also good to see these
places as they are for much of the year. It
was boggy underfoot and the route was often
difficult to follow through the grass tussocks with
livestock tracks (and crap) everywhere. It was
occasionally misty and I half-expected to see the
witches from Macbeth emerge from the gloom.
I felt like I must be the
only person this stupid but, after an hour, spotted
two more hikers with brightly coloured pack
raincovers, descending the steep trail in front of
me. After another half hour I caught them and
they turned out to be an Australian couple (in their
50s, I would guess) also walking from Lands End to
John O'Groats and using the same guide-book as me,
although they planned to take longer than the two
months I had planned. I had heard about them
from a few hikers going the other way along the
Coast Path, but thought it unlikely I would actually
meet them. We briefly compared notes in the
abysmal conditions, barely able to see each other
through all the gear we were wearing, before I
continued on.
The going was quite hard
with soft peat and bogs to negotiate frequently, but
I felt warm in all my gear, and not particularly
concerned about my safety, apart from slipping into
a bog. My new shoes certainly did not look new
now, and my feet were going to be wet all day.
The designated route was to take me over the summit
of Dunkery Beacon, which I could make out through
the misty gloom, but a bad-weather route was also
available which skirted the slopes of the mountain
and I chose that. No point climbing to the top
to stare at the fog, and it would be even more cold
and windy up there.
Now came a boggy descent
across saturated fields to a stream and then a
pleasant, though muddy, bridle trail to the village
of Wheddon Cross which sat high on a ridge. I
reached there soon after 1pm, bedraggled and very
mud-spattered, and cleaned myself up outside and
removed my rain pants before going into a pub for
lunch. I could smell myself, so I'm sure the
staff could too, but I guess they are used to hikers
up here. It was quite expensive and I went for
one of the cheaper options - cod, peas and chips.
I tried not to dally too
much because I fancied the idea of getting to my
goal, Roadwater, in time to eat when the pub there
opened (probably 6pm) before hiking on another
couple of kilometres to a Youth Hostel Barn,
whatever that is. I began walking again,
having dispensed with the rain pants but keeping the
second sweater on. The walking was a bit
easier, following some less muddy bridle trails and
crossing many fields with grass shortened by grazing
sheep. In one field, all the sheep began to
follow along and when I reached the gate to exit, I
met the farmer coming the other way on his quad
bike. I made some reference to the sheep
mistaking me for a New Zealander, but I think the
joke went over his head.
The route went over the
summit of another large hill, Lype Hill, which had a
few old mounds dating back to the ancient Britons,
before descending, partially along a steep bridle
path. I later read in the guide-book, that it
was slippery when wet, but that was too late.
I fell over twice on the way down, one of them once
again twisting my bad knee at a grotesque angle, but
once again, no apparent damage done. I was
limping a bit with what felt like a bruised right
heel, and that was making me a little more awkward.
At lunch I had changed out the purchased insoles
from my new shoes and replaced them with those that
came with the shoes, but this only seemed to stop
the problem getting worse.
At the bottom of the hill
came another attractive walk along a not-too-boggy
bridle trail which followed a stream through woods
and farmland and passed a few old cottages. At
the village of Kingsbridge I missed a turn and ended
up walking along a country lane for the last 6km to
Roadwater, instead of the suggested route through
some woods and fields. However, it was very
pleasant, with only a couple of vehicles in an hour
and a half, passing though some conifer forests,
following a stream and passing some historic old
residences.
I reached Roadwater and
the pub there just before 6pm and decided to ask
whether they did B&B and at what price. They
had had a cancellation that morning and offered me a
large room at a good price and I decided to take it,
feeling in desperate need of a shower and not
knowing what I would find at the hostel.
Earliest breakfast is 8am,
so looks like another sleep in tomorrow. I
think the weather forecast is for the rain to clear.
Fingers crossed.