Journal:
Got up at 7am
after a warm and sticky night, interrupted by some
inquisitive cows munching right up to the tent on
several occasions. I was already pretty sweaty
and grimy when I went to bed in the clothes I had
worn all day, and was thankful I had bought a
sleeping bag inner for this trip that can be washed
quite easily. Otherwise, my sleeping bag would
become pretty gross pretty quick.
Anyway, I was walking by
8am on another already warm and sunny day. I
followed more Offa's Dyke earthworks for part of the
way and enjoyed the pleasant path which again
climbed to semi-moorland and then descended to
valley floors, farms and tiny villages on several
occasions. The climbing and descending made
for slow progress, especially in warm conditions,
but I didn't push it. I was entertained
throughout the day by low flying military aircraft,
the first being a jet fighter that passed so low I
could easily see the crew in the cockpit.
Later I saw a number of low-flying Hercules
transports.
After a final descent
through an attractive and unoccupied golf course, I
arrived in the busy little town of Knighton around
11:30am, ready for some breakfast and fluids.
I found a bakery, and followed that with a visit to
a tiny supermarket where I bought some supplies to
see me through the rest of the day. I had 21km
still to go to my target of Craven Arms, but figured
I could do that comfortably during the afternoon.
Knighton was a significant point in the trip because
it marked the point at which I left the Offa's Dyke
Path and headed north-east across the English
midlands towards the Peak District and the Pennine
Way, my route north to Scotland. I was sorry
to leave Offa's Dyke Path because it had been
well-marked, generally easy underfoot and
spectacularly scenic. Thoroughly recommended.
I'm back now following the
less-travelled paths suggested by my guide-book.
The way out of Knighton began with a long and
arduous climb in very warm conditions to the top of
Stow Hill (~400m). Near the top, on a very
steep and gravelly path, I met an un-helmeted
mountain-biker weighing many kilograms, coming down
the path. I consoled myself with the thought
that there was no way he had ridden up. He was
having some trouble getting traction and holding his
line on the descent. A big fall seemed
imminent, but I didn't hang around to watch.
I travelled much slower
than I hoped during the afternoon, with more ascents
and descents, some rough fields to cross and
considerable heat. Yet I wasn't too bothered
as the views made up for it and I passed through
some very old villages with interesting old
buildings. With about 7km to go, my route
began following a lane which followed the line of an
old Roman road, virtually straight for kilometre
after kilometre. I spent some time pondering
those who had built it, and passed along it, 2000
years ago. What did the countryside look like
then? I was supposed to leave the road and
walk the last 4km along some footpaths but, when I
got to the track junction, and saw waist-high
nettles, I decided to sticvk with my Roman road
which was also heading in the right direction.
I reached the small town
of Craven Arms at around 6:30pm and, after wandering
around a little, found the only establishment that
seemed to offer any accommodation and was lucky to
get a room. I had to wait half an hour in the
bar until they could get their last free room ready.
As usual, I washed out the days gear while I
showered, putting the plug in the bath and doing
some "grape-mashing" with my feet before rinsing
each item out. You would not believe the black
sum mark left in the bath when I emptied it. I
had to do some vigorous washing down.
I had dinner in the bar
watching the England vs Mexico "friendly" on their
large screen, but went back to my room at half-time.
Hard to get too enthusiastic about a game that
really didn't mean much to either team. Less
hills tomorrow, but a longish day.