After a few weeks break and some preliminary trail running tests in preparation for the Spine Race, back in the days before Coronavirus really took a hold of our lives, I took the opportunity of a 3-4 spare days to cram in a planned 12 county “summits” covering a corridor from the Midlands down to London. The previous day I had been in Stafford doing a couple of business related things and visiting family so my itinerary was set up with that start point in mind. So a quick breakfast at my parents’ house and then off towards Shropshire, a drive of around 45 minutes via Telford and Bridgnorth to a small village called Ditton Priors where I parked up at the local sports field. Conscious of my busy schedule, expecting very wet and muddy terrain in most places after the recent heavy rains and floods, and also a forecast of strong winds and more rain, I was eager to get off to a good start. I quickly donned my boots, waterproof jacket and took along my trekking poles more as a speed aid than anything else.
Arriving in Ditton PriorsPlanned route…
The first section out of the village started along a narrow track before accessing farmland and a series of boggy fields taking me in a south-westerly direction gradually uphill for about a mile before arriving at the lane beside Bank Farm. A short distance down the lane I turned right through a gate onto a straight, metalled track heading steeply uphill through woodland for about 900m opening out onto moorland.
The steep track up with the village down below
As the gradient lessened the wind got stronger and by the time I reached the point where the track turned left on the Shropshire Way and started to meander towards the summit my calves were suitably warmed up.
Joining the Shropshire Way with the summit in the distance
It was a good moment to take a short breather and have a good look at the distant views back down to the village and beyond.
Meandering track to the top with views back across to StaffordshireJust a short breather
I sped along the track skirting some ruined old buildings and a small tarn before reaching the trig point situated at the top of a small flight of steps. It was by now very windy and the video I filmed was almost unintelligible. I took a moment to admire the views all around into Wales and back across he Midlands. This would be my highest point of the week and was also my highest point so far in this challenge.
The trig point summit of Brown Clee HillWindy
I had made good time reaching the summit – a net ascent of 310m and a distance of about 2.5 miles – but I was on a mission and could not linger for too long. Rain was closing in from the west, County Top number 9 was waiting and I set off back down the track with the wind behind me. I passed a solitary walker also racing against the weather (“no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing!”), exchanged a brief hello and quickly descended back to the lane and out of the wind. I decided to miss the muddy fields and instead followed another lane downhill back to the village, coming out near the church.
Ditton Priors Churchyard
I also passed the butcher shop and it’s unmistakeable aroma, resolving to stop by on my return in the car, which I reached a short while later after passing through the village. So that was Shropshire ticked off in very good time and I left ahead of schedule and ahead of the rain to find my way across to a rather more suburban destination in the West Midlands.
Route profile – ascent statistic is inaccurate due to low point registered before satellite fix!!
We stayed overnight on a very nice, modern campsite near the village of Greetham – hardly anyone there, music in the washrooms, hot showers, would recommend it to anyone. The weather was misty and grey when we woke and had breakfast before setting off through Oakham to our start point at Braunston in Rutland, or at least that was the plan. On the way we decided to fill the van up with fuel and almost got into a fight with an impatient driver who decided to pull in front of us just as we got ready to exit the forecourt. As we could not move there were several more annoyed drivers behind us. The offending motorist received the sharp end of my tongue as we waited for him to fill up, pay and move on. Driving through Oakham I was not concentrating on the SatNav, took a wrong turn and ended up heading south on a main road for about 5 miles before we could turn off, re-assess and plot a tricky cross country route to Braunston. Undeterred we arrived in the small village and found a convenient place to park not far from the church.
Braunston in Rutland Church – PJ leading the way
Whilst there was no big rush for the day, I was keen to get going, Cath decided not to join (quite wise) so it was just PJ to accompany me on what promised to be another yomp across some soggy and muddy farmland. Learning the squelchy lessons from yesterday I opted for my faithful hiking boots (also quite wise). The expected route was about 7 miles but again without detailed map to hand I was working from memory and using OS maps on my phone to find the way. The actual route we took looks like this.
We started off via the churchyard and quickly entered some wet fields tracking alongside a brook, the wildlife at this point was far enough away not to trouble us. First real obstacle was a tired wooden bridge over the brook with stiles either side. PJ is not the most proficient stile hopper in the dog world but today would see him coming of age!! With some encouragement he managed to clamber over and we crossed into the next field with a choice of paths. After consulting the map I opted to go right, skirting the edge of the field that would bring us more quickly to a road section of the route. The path across the field was OK but as we approached the point where we would join the road I could see we had another challenge. The stone stile exit in the wall was half blocked by a low tree with gnarled branches meaning I would have to crouch down almost on my knees to get through, at the same time dealing with the muddy surface. In addition, the electric wire fence that we had followed along the side of the field was lying along the ground, easy for me to step over, but sadly PJ is less knowledgeable about such things and yelped very loudly when he trod on the live cable. By now I was trying to squirm under the tree branches and decide we just needed to get out the field before I could find out if my trusty companion was badly injured. We both got over the wall and landed on the roadside verge – PJ was evidently a bit shaken but seemingly well enough to continue so we headed off smartly southwest along the road section with a gradual uphill gradient. There was a decent verge for most of the way and not too much traffic which meant we could set a swift pace and soon arrived at Withcote (or without in our case!) where we would pick up a bridle way back northwards towards Knossington.
End of the road section
The bridle way was well signposted and easy to follow but pretty soggy and trodden by horses but easier to negotiate in boots. PJ just skipped daintily along, watching horses playing in neighbouring fields and showing no sign of any post traumatic stress, which was good because soon we would be dealing with angry sheep!. The first encounter was just before the bridle way became a muddy path descending to a seriously squelchy section across a stream. We were met at a gate by a welcoming flock of woolly friends who appeared to have a “thou shalt not pass” group mentality. Undaunted (or totally daunted, there was no alternative) I opened the gate, making gestures with my absent trekking pole and gently urging the sheep to make way with a few careful expletives. Note – sheep and dogs don’t understand swear words but it can still be quite liberating if no-one else is around and the livestock are not unduly scared. PJ and I eased our way through the welcome party who reluctantly let us continue but then decided to stalk us down the track. It always seems like there is one sheep a little braver than the rest who then follow suit. The next 200 metres or so was a stop/start comedy of us walking then turning around to see the sheep creeping up behind. They would then stop, I would offer some more gentle (expletive) encouragement for them to quit their silly game and then turn around to carry on. After about 5 repetitions they got bored first (or maybe they just didn’t want to do the really squelchy part over the stream?). PJ is usually quite lively when sheep are around, but on this occasion I think he was pretty intimidated – today was turning out to be quite an adventure for him at least. We crossed the stream and then followed a muddy track up past a farm and into another short section of fields – not so muddy, however another small party of sheep gathered to greet us. Emboldened by the last encounter we did not hesitate and this time quite enjoyed the little cat and mouse game as they let us pass then closed ranks and followed behind.
The woolly entourage playing cat and mouse
The fields gave way to a narrow lane and then onto the minor road into the pleasant village of Knossington where we would turn and head east back across undulating fields towards our destination high point of England’s smallest county.
As we crossed the fields gradually gaining height there were some glimpses of views in the clouds, and numerous stiles for PJ to negotiate. Mostly he managed, building his confidence with each one, until we got to one a little higher than the others, no escape route either side, and just a couple of planks crossing the stream for me to balance on and him to land on. I decided it would be safer if I unattached his lead at this point, at least then he would be able to go fetch help if I fell off the planks!! It took several attempts to finally coax him onto the stile step and then to leap/dive/jump/scramble over the extra height and I thought he was going to fall into the stream or knock me off, but all was well and we continued on our way. Not long afterwards we came to a field with no visible path but my phone map told me just to head pretty much due east in the direction of the trig point on the opposite side. A couple of squelchy minutes later we were there, video and photo done and County Top no.7 in the bag.
Ecstatic moment at the trig point!!
We got a couple of strange looks from the farmer in the adjacent field but nothing to tell us we weren’t welcome (just the sheep in that mood today!). All that remained were one or two equally boggy fields to cross before a stone farm track took us down quite rapidly back into Braunston where Cath was enjoying a coffee in the local pub. Back at Betty dirty boots were discarded, a quick drink and snack and we were on our way back home – the first County Tops mini-adventure over and already thinking about the next one.
