Snow isn’t something we’re used to here in southern England and it was scuppering my plans for a seven mile Moonwalk training walk big time back in January 2013. Obviously I couldn’t walk so far in a blizzard and the forecast continued to say there’d be more snow so another day passed with no walking. On day three, despite light snow, I decided to get out, even if just for a short walk. It would turn out to be a winter wonderland walk that solved a mystery.
20 January 2013
Even though I didn’t go for a seven mile walk on Friday I felt as if I had. Walking on snow, even with the wonderful Yak Trax takes much more effort than just walking. Coupled with the energy expended to keep my body warm out in minus goodness knows what temperatures and the getting up way earlier than intended (due to the crashing around, torch wielding Commando) I was shattered yesterday. I could hardly keep my eyes open and I promise it had nothing to do with the generous dash of rum in my cocoa. That was purely medicinal, to warm me up.
The temperature was a bit higher and all day there was a steady drip, drip, drip onto the decking as the snow on the roof began to thaw. Even so, more snow was forecast in the afternoon and evening. All in all staying indoors seemed like the best plan. It didn’t actually snow again before dark and, throughout the afternoon, the whole garden was dripping as the snow began to melt around the edges.
The second lot of snow never did materialise. Maybe I should have gone for my walk because the forecast for today was mainly snow. The temperature dropped quite drastically yesterday evening, things began to ice up again and the dripping of melting snow stopped. It made me think of icicles and reminded me of the ones that used to hang down from the arch of our little porch when I was a child. Dad used to lift me up so I could break them off and suck them. As he died when I was just nine, I don’t have so many memories of him and this is one that always makes me smile. Nowadays I’d be too worried about all the pollution but I guess the ice was cleaner in those days. Either that or we were less informed. Whatever, it never did me any harm.
The snow started falling again this morning just after I got up. This time is was more like the snow equivalent of drizzle than real snow and it didn’t seem to do much other than fill in a few footprints although the the snow on the ground had frozen over. I watched it suspiciously while I ate my berry granola, waiting for it to get worse. It didn’t but the powdery flakes kept falling. Commando was on a mission to go to town so I decided to try a little walk. Because I wasn’t sure if the snow was going to suddenly get worse I put all thoughts of the seven miles out of my mind and decided to stick close to home. For once, I didn’t even turn the WalkJogRun on so I have no idea how far I walked.
Hum Hole is a little wooded area close to my house. I’d love to know why it’s called Hum Hole because, although obviously a bit of a hole, being a huge dip leading down to a small pond, I’ve never heard any kind of hum except perhaps the traffic of the main road. What I do know is that it’s been common land since the sixteenth century and, when I was a child, it was much larger but the building of the bypass cut into quite a chunk of it. When my boys were little we used to walk through on the way to school but I must admit I haven’t explored it properly for many years. This seemed like a good time.
Even with the iced over snow the Yak Trax worked brilliantly and there were no problems with slipping as I crossed the main road and started my way down past the school. There weren’t many people about, probably because it was so cold. I’d hardly been outside for five minutes and my hands were freezing, despite my gloves. When I reached the entrance to Hum Hole there was a picture postcard version of winter spread out before me, trees sheathed in white and the little path just visible winding up into the woods.
I realised pretty quickly I wasn’t alone, shrieks and laughter rang out through the chilly air. When I came within view of the clearing where the pond is I could see a group of teenagers with sleds at the top of the long grassy slope. A young lad was poised right at the top by the fence and, as I watched, he went careering down the hill whooping with joy. The girls with him stood by screaming encouragement but I noticed none of them were brave enough (or is that stupid) to go down themselves. As the lad came to the bottom I held my breath, afraid he’d end up in the pond, but somehow he manged to stop just in time and I watched for a while as he began the long climb back up to the top. As far as I could see the pond wasn’t actually frozen but I’d imagine the water was pretty cold so I’m glad he didn’t fall in.
It was way too cold to stand still for long so I set off along the path that leads through the woods, back around and down to the pond. At that point I didn’t really have much of a plan I just thought I’d walk and enjoy the fresh air and beautiful scenery. Soon the screams faded into the distance, either that or the teenagers had given up and gone home, and all I could hear were birds and a very distant hum of traffic. As Hum Hole is mentioned by name in documents from long before the motor vehicle existed I’m pretty sure that’s not where the name came from.
Here and there I had to skirt the branches of fallen trees but, luckily, the path wasn’t blocked and I wound my way towards the top. At one point I was puzzled to see a flash of red beside the path but, when I looked closer, it was a traffic cone. Goodness knows how that got there although there are usually enough of them lining the main road. Digging up stretches of that road seems to be a competitive sport between the different utulity companies for some reason. About a quarter of the way up I spotted an interesting looking path that I’d like to have explored further but it was so wet and muddy I didn’t dare attempt it. I’m pretty sure it leads past the infant school and up towards the other side of the village. When I was very young, I remember walking that way with my sister Alex on my way to school and coming out in the playground. The main path is paved so I kept to that and carried on climbing.
At the top I spotted a couple of lads walking their dogs. The dogs looked like they were enjoying the snow but I’m sure their paws were freezing, my hands certainly were. At this point the path straightens out but, in some places, the branches of the birch trees are so low even a shortie like me has to duck. When I finally reached a clearing in the trees I had a wonderful view down to the pond with the houses lining the road in the distance. It’s such a quiet place it’s sometimes easy to forget the road is so close by.
Just before the path wound back round and down towards the pond again I spotted another path into the trees. For a while I hesitated, unsure whether to risk taking it or to take the safer walk back towards the bottom. The path looked fairly dry and I noticed a street light so I guessed it would lead somewhere rather than just petering out to nothing somewhere in the woods. In the end I decided to explore, after all, I could always turn back if need be. Before long it became clear the leaf mould covered a layer of mud that was pretty boggy in places but I managed to skirt round the worst of it by walking in the snow just off the path. It appeared to be leading upwards and I was hopeful it would come out somewhere at the top of the Big Hill In the village.
When it did finally emerge I found myself close to the top of the bypass and there were some steps close by leading up to the back of the shops. What a discovery, I’m pretty sure I will be exploring further when the weather is dryer. As I said, I didn’t have much of a plan when I set out but, finding myself up in the village, I thought I’d take the opportunity to walk through the churchyard and maybe spend a moment or two at my grandfather, Pappy’s grave. When I was a child he lived with us so I was very close to him. He died when I was twelve and I often visit his grave.
The Red Lion pub was open and a few people seemd to be going in. Apparently they do a very good Sunday lunch so I imagine that was the attraction. Being right next to the chuch it’s probably a Sunday regular for some people in the village, church in the morning followed by lunch at the pub. The church yard was very peaceful and quite beautiful with a blanket of snow over everything. It took me a while to find the grave though. The snow made everything look so different, even though I was more or less in the right place I couldn’t quite get my bearings at first and I couldn’t see the paths between the graves properly so I was fearful of walking across a grave by accident. Eventually I found it and a spent a few quiet moments of contemplation.
By this time my hands were so cold I decided I’d make my way back home for a nice hot drink so I set off back through the precinct to the top of the hill. Soon I was back at the top of The Crescent looking down the Little Hill. Although the views over the snow covered city were quite breathtaking, the road was well gritted and the pavements not too icy (probably thanks to the local children using it as a toboggan run) it looked a bit forbidding. Even with the Yak Trax I decided it would be better to take the longer route round the back of The Crescent rather than risk an embarrassing and possibly painful fall. It took me a little longer to get back but at least it was in one piece.
Just before I went indoors I noticed footprints in the snow on the roof next door. Looks like Fluffy the cat has been exploring up there. Now I wonder if that explains how she kept getting in the house back in the summer? Maybe it was the roof, bathroom window thing and she can’t walk through walls after all. I did walk down to the bottom of the garden to see if I could see any footprints on our roof but I couldn’t, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get up there though.
It may not have been seven miles, I’m guessing it was more like two or three, but at least I did get out for a walk today. Given the way my hands felt when I got in I don’t think I’d have survived seven miles without a case of frostbite. I had to sit and hold a cup of coffee for about an hour before they stopped hurting. That was about the sum total of what I did all afternoon to be honest, apart from cook dinner and wash up. The snow carried on trying to fall for the rest of the afternoon but it doesn’t seem to have made much difference to the general level of snow.
I’m hoping we don’t see any more of that until January!
Me too