While Commando was running his eighteen miles to train for his first marathon I’d walked across White Moor, skirted Matley Woods, negotiated a muddy field and was heading for the shelter of the trees. As usual, I was lost and there were two choices of path. Why does that always happen?
18 August 2013
I stood for a while looking across the field at the two choices of path, one went across the centre, the other seemed to follow the line of the stream but not close enough to offer any shelter. Neither looked very promising and nothing looked at all familiar. Maybe I should cut my losses and turn back? Then I noticed something quite curious about a gorse bush a little way ahead. It seemed to be covered in frost. Of course I had to go to have a closer look.
The strange, frost like, coating turned out to be a gossamer thin spider web. Up close I could see hundreds of minuscule spiders and jewel drops of rain decorating the spiny gorse. Quite beautiful. My little detour had led me a little way along the path running by the stream so I figured I might as well continue in that direction and see what happened. How lost could I get?
As WalkJogrun buzzed to tell me I’d walked three miles, I came to purple islands of heather and ahead there were trees. The sky was beginning to cloud over, which was welcome as long as that didn’t mean torrential rain. The waterproof wind proof coat and pink hat would protect me but they’d also make me even hotter. Even without the coat and hat I was getting through my water at a rate of knots. I’d have to ration my sips.
On the other side of the heather the path disappeared but I could see a railway tunnel ahead so I made for it across the sodden grass. Someone had kindly spread some gravel over the muddiest places so at least I didn’t have to risk losing my shoes. By now I knew I’d taken a wrong turn, probably back when I left Matley Woods, because there’d been no tunnel on my walks with Pete and the Care For a Walk gang.
As I got closer I thought I could hear a train and, sure enough, a few moments later a train whizzed across the bridge. Through the tunnel I got a promising glimpse of trees, maybe I would finally get away from the sun. As I stepped out of the tunnel another train sped over head making me jump. Where were all the trains going?
After a short, pleasant, walk through the band of woodland I came to another wooden bridge. On the other side the wood came to an abrupt end and a rather pretty, heather strewn, field opened out before me, complete with grazing cows. Better still I could see pine trees not too far ahead. There was, of course, more mud to skirt round, but I managed this quite easily. The cows were more of a worry, they were munching away on the heather on either side of the trail. I could only hope they would be too interested in eating to bother with me. At least the path looked dry.
Two particular cows seemed more curious about me than was comfortable. They were close to the path so I hurried past, trying to look nonchalant but prepared to run if need be. Somewhere in the back of my mind I seemed to remember hearing you should never run from a charging cow, or was that a bull? For all I knew they could have been bulls, I didn’t hang around to ask. Before you say anything I can see the udders in the photo I took before I scurried off but at the time I wasn’t paying attention. I’m also pretty sure cows can run faster than me, in fact more or less everything can run faster than me. The thing is, if you don’t run, what are you supposed to do? They don’t tell you that.
Thankfully they did nothing more than stare but my hurrying took me smack bang into a huge quagmire stretching right across the trail. Getting across involved a detour over heather that turned out to be slightly less solid than expected. The mud and squishy heather seemed to go on for ages but, on the other side, I could see solid looking ground and pine trees.
The first of the pine trees were far smaller than they’d looked from a distance. Rather like a field of Christmas trees waiting to be cut and put in someone’s living room. For some reason the tune to Jingle Bells started going through my head and I couldn’t seem to get it out. So on I walked, acres of little Christmas trees all around me with Jingle Bells on a loop in my head, while the sun beat down on me and my water bottle seemed to be emptying at an alarming rate. Really, you couldn’t make it up.
To make matters worse my stomach was growling. This was the point I realised I hadn’t packed any walking snacks in my rucksack. How did that happen? Back at home when I grabbed the rucksack out of the cupboard I remembered thinking about snacks, I remembered filling my water bottle, putting in a few ice cubes from the freezer to help keep it cool (they’d long since melted and what little water remained was now warm), I remembered checking I had blister plasters and lip balm, what I didn’t remember was actually packing said snacks. It was gone midday and my small bowl of granola at eight o’clock seemed an awful long way off. On I went, trying not to think about food or water or being lost.
Just then a rabbit dashed out from the trees, stopped, looked at me and dashed back. How hungry would I have to be before he looked like a good meal I wondered? Still, if I couldn’t even manage to capture him on the iPhone there was zero chance of me ever catching him for real and, even if I did, I’m not sure I could have killed him. He’d be more likely to end up as my pet. Then I noticed blackberries growing amongst the little pine seedlings. Mostly they weren’t ripe but a couple were satisfyingly black so I stooped down and picked them. They tasted amazing even if there was little in the way of energy in them. I felt like Ray Mears or an ancient hunter gatherer eating the fruits of the forest. Obviously when it comes to hunter gathering I’m firmly in the gatherer camp.
When I made it to the tall pine trees I started to look around for somewhere dry to sit. There was still a tiny shred of hope that there would be something to eat somewhere in my rucksack. The New Forest is managed by the verderers which includes cutting trees to stop things getting overcrowded and there were stumps dotted about along the path. Most of them were cut fairly close to the ground but I was sure I would find one I could sit on eventually.
While I was looking I spotted some interesting fungus among the stones and pine needles. Yellow furry mounds with a tinge of orangey brown. They may even have been edible for all I know, although I doubt it. I have no idea what kind they were but they were quite attractive. Then I saw a likely looking tree stump so I sat and had a ferret through my rucksack.
Of course there was no food in there, not a scrap. I sat for a little while and sipped some water sparingly. It was so peaceful amongst the tall pines, birds were singing, I could see blue sky above me through the trees and, despite my hunger, the lack of water and being ever so slightly lost I felt a great happiness. Then the distant sound of a train broke the spell. By this time I was just over four miles into my walk. I’d been walking for about one and a half hours and Commando thought his eighteen miles would take about three so it was time to turn back. Perhaps I’d find some more blackberries on the way. So I set off back through the tall pines towards the Christmas trees with blackberries on my mind.
The blackberries were not to be though. As I broke out of the trees my phone rang. It was Commando. My heart was in my mouth as I answered. If he was ringing he couldn’t be running and if he wasn’t running…well let’s just say a lot of horrible possibilities flashed through my mind in the milliseconds before I heard his voice.
“Don’t worry, I’m alright,” he said, hearing the panic in my hello. “I’m struggling a bit with this heat and I’m way slower than I expected.”
“I’m struggling with the humidity too,” I told him. He sounded quite despondent so I hoped it would cheer him up to know he wasn’t alone.
“There’s no way I’m going to hit my target time and I think I’ve miscalculated on my water, I should have brought more. I’ve got a bit lost too and I’m going to have to turn back and go back the way I came so I’m not sure how many miles I’m going to end up doing. I’ve still got more than seven miles to go for the eighteen but I don’t think I’m going to do it in the three hours.”
“Just take it steady, you can do it, I know you can. I’ve almost run out of water and I’m a bit lost too so it’s kind of good to know I’m not the only one who has no sense of direction and drinks too much.”
“Just so you know I will be back later than I thought so don’t worry.”
Easier said than done, I thought as the call cut off.
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Just a quick note. If there was only one path, you wouldn’t stop and consider yourself lost. You would simply follow it 🙂
Very true. Then again, knowing me I’d still get lost 🙂
I love Matley woods. Know it well. Lovely article and photos
Thank you. We are lucky to have the firest on our doorstep.