The Pilsdon Lewesdon Run - Sun. Jan. 14 [UK]

[Backpost--with non-running related memorabilia]

This is the one I'd been waiting for, and the day turned out to be lovely: some sun, not too cold, and lots of the mud was firm enough to get across without bogging down. Dropped off at the Pilsdon Pen lookout layby (the Cockpit, I think it's called) I was chatting to a viewgazer before I set off: he asked how far I was heading, and said his brother was/had been a marathon runner for charity, earning an OBE for it. Much more modest goals here -- I still don't think I could do a marathon without some sort of paradigm shift, but maa, ne. I attacked the steep climb and was well knackered once I hit the top: starting at about 720 feet up to the summit of 909 feet in about 200 yards. Did a lap of the hillfort parapet, partly to get my breath back, and partly for the AMAZING views, up country for miles and miles, and south across the vale out to sea - just breathtaking!

Then down the steep path again and off along the Broadwinsor road to the back way up Lewesdon (Dorset Ridgeway path, technically). This was a muddy slog in places, but pleasant (motorbikes had been up there earlier, but were fortunately gone), and I was at the top of that hill fort (892 feet) glimpsing the sea, and then down the far side trying not to crash into trees; levelled out and reached the lower slopes, where one dog walker explained her dog's dogging me with a, "He doesn't like orange, see" (I was wearing my lovely Xmas top). Across the fields then (footpath, officially) to exit at Four Ashes and then cross the B3162 and on down into Stoke Abbott. Long road section followed, but laced with memories of the hike we all did that Saturday that prompted F's story. Tried to call F from the payphone, but it needed a coin to activate even for 0800 calls, alas.

Cooled my head at the old fountain and then plodded on Beaminster-wards, intrigued in passing by the pub sign -- text on both sides, under the picture; too small to read, but next time, I hope. Very little traffic, fortunately, along the lane; a couple of women out for a hack smiled (perhaps simply from enjoying the comfort of their position compared to mine -- two very different ways to take pleasure in the scenery of a Sunday afternoon). Made it to Beaminster still feeling pretty good, taking the footpath right immediately after crossing the river: the start of my run down the Brit Valley trail, this meant I didn't go through the square at all, but ran down the old road next to the church (with the pulpit/ambo? too tall for me to see out of w/out a step when I was a first former) and on by the river out the back of town to the field path off behind Parnham. I remember a science class trip there one time, and also the many passages to and fro visiting Sarah when she lived in the town (can I even recall where the house was though?).

Familiar fields and some startled Sunday walkers as I chugged on towards Netherbury -- one family just before I came out by the church had a wee lad in tow, and the mum turned and called him, "Come on Legolas, see? Everyone's running!" as I went by. Legolas?! Maybe just a nickname (the little chap, maybe 3-4 years old, was very fair). Down past the Reading Room (which seemed to have a load of music stands in it: a singing group, perhaps? -- but at least it's still used), and then down the maind street, past the cider farm (I wonder if Mr Warren still does his barely licit biz?) and across the white bridge to the lane that keeps the Brit Valley trail going. Some very muddy bits, as I splashed on to Riverside cottage (a woman gardening, but the famous cook no longer living there) past the weir, and then more wet fields as far as Oxbridge. Out into the lane and back over the river to the next section of trail, the bit where buzzards be (as I remember only too well). None there to dive at me that day though, and I followed fields and barely visible paths more or less beside the river on down the valley. One field had a couple of sheep carcasses or skeletons, as with the Pymore Wooth run the other day -- maybe that's common practice these days? I don't remember seeing so many as a kid. A field with a big flock had lots of wool on the wires, all curly and so soft: I gleaned a bit for F. Another field was strewn, I thought, with feather, but on picking them up I saw they were fine leaves, so pretty and so not like the land all around. A fruit tree, for sure, in someone's garden next to the trail.

Lost the flow a bit near Pymore --the markings got very vague, and I blundered into an electric fence, pulling it about three paces before I realised what it was. The setting was fairly low, just a bit uncomfortable as I stepped back to loosen it and then stepped over it. Memories of how alarming such encounters were when I was a kid -- and renewed amazement at how puzzling it is to run into one. You just don't automatically connect the tick tock jolts with the fence very quickly (or is that just me?). Came out through a farm yard finally at Pymore and followed the footpath back into the new old Pymore Village, then down the path all the way home.

Time: 1:34:56 and 5:40
Speed: 7.3 mph and 6.8 mph
Distance: 11.5 and 0.64 miles

Comments: the second numbers are a bit I added at the end, since I initially stopped just after Pymore. Also, I accidentally stopped the timer as I left Netherbury, so I can add half a mile to the distance. It won't have affected pace much. Overall, a long and very tiring, but swamped with memories and images, just a real treat!