Lost in the Wilderness - but now found in Chiddingly

For any regular readers of this blog who aren't part of the hardened wranglers who trudge the fields and footpaths of the south east, you may have noticed there's been a distinct lack of activity regarding reporting of our adventures.
The main fact was that during the months of May and June, illness of one of our brethren meant that walks were halted as much coordination and routes were held by him. Hence the dearth of walks, even though, in his absence, the remaining troupe marched upon the Downs overlooking Eastbourne.

But the posse are back and the bout of illness has been brushed aside with a rehabilitation programme of walks now planned. Not too much hill climbing is preferred at the moment, but there will be views to be captured regardless.

We therefore congregated in the church car park of Chiddingly last Thursday and ventured to set a 4 mile circuit toward Gun Hill.
The weather was warm and with blue sky and sun is was looking like a potentially pleasant day. A slight breeze kept us from overheating and the pace of the early stages of the walk ensured we didn't exhaust ourselves. At least that was the plan.

We crossed over the first lane and entered through a gate where, to our right, were a dozen or more beehives with evidence of much activity of bees entering and departing on their daily pollen collecting mission.
We descended down toward the stream, where levels had reduced markedly since the last time we trailed this route.

The grass and other flora had made its summer growth difficult to pass through on several stages of the walk. A small machete may have been useful for the leading walker to swipe through at times.

The next field provided sustenance for some of us who preferred an early snack of broad beans. The plants had small pods in which some sweet beans were to the tasted. At the far side of the field a group of walkers were coming toward us. The gap of the path meant that polite conversation inevitable. We pointed out that they'd probably appreciate the beans also, but with happy smiles they seemed disinterested in the plants and walked on.

A small section of road walking along a lane where the aroma of a lorry collecting waste from one of the cottages perfumed  the air as we passed by. The Gun pub on our right didn't appear to be open for business yet, but no doubt they were preparing food for the hungry masses for lunch later.
Soon after, (opposite the car park) a left turn onto a farm drive that would allow us passage through the centre of farm buildings. Once through the gate at the far end, we encountered a sheltered gulley where it was necessary to navigate our way through some muddy patches.
We were heading toward the first lane we crossed about half a mile north and into a riding school, where a loud barking dog came to check out our authority pass as horses being put through their paces by some junior riders and their family watched.
We continued toward the next wooded area and then climbed over a fragile stile into a track.
It was time to stop for a short refreshment break and consume fuel.

We were just over half way round and more barking dogs ensured we didn't stray from the well marked footpath after setting off from our resting place. However once over the bridge which crossed the river ouse, we encountered more overgrown foliage that restricted our ability to decide exactly which way to turn. Like intrepid gorilla warriors we battled through and with minor scratches we were soon out in daylight again and climbing over a stile and into an open field.

A steady walk up the field where grass had been cut and bundled into convenient rounds of winter feed, to the final stretch of road and Chidingly church spire was coming into view.

But not before we had a chance to sample more broad beans and also cross paths with the same walkers we had seen an hour ago. The sight of the spire was getting closer and maybe our pace quickened also. And for good measure there was another stables where horses and workers were hard at work and another dog made certain we knew he was in charge.

A final stretch of legs through fields and climbing over of stiles, we observed the grand site of what may be Chiddingly's mascot... a goat. Sitting majestic and soaking up the grandeur of his estate.
We had completed the 4 mile walk in around 2 hours without the aid of air sea rescue, which in itself was an achievement worthy of note.

Alfriston Riverbank walk

Our group had been depleted by 50% as aches! pains and infections meant that a rest recovery strategy was an essential need for those 3 that stayed at home.

We did have an aim to head north and convene at mark across, however there had been early morning weather warnings about conditions not favouring any strenuous exercise due to a southerly breeze carrying on it Sahara desert dust. Pollution in the air, we reconsidered our plan and took the decision to head to a less hilly walk and park up at the Long Man car park in Wilmington.

The 3 of us laced up and pulled on our rucksacks to head off toward Alfriston from the ruins of Wilmington priory. At the end of the first field we observed a large black rabbit sat in a cooage garden next to the footpath. A little later there were other younger looking rabbits crossing the road to join the adult rabbit. The air was warm and the haze of pollution could be seen across the freshly sprouting wheat in the large field just after crossing the road in Milton Street.

Cows were grazing in the next field but took little notice of us as our intention was to head toward the white bridge in Alfriston and walk down one side of the river toward Littlingron and cross over to the other side and return into Alfrston. The warm breeze kept constant but soon caused us to shed layers as we warmed by the exercise. 

There was certainly a strange odour in the air and were pleased we heeded the advice earlier. Our lung capacity may have been good, but probably been tested if we'd decided to ascend any of the nearby hills. 

We progressed further along the river path making pleasant exchanges with the numerous walkers who were out strolling at a similar pace.

Swans were out pecking at strands of grass by the river, but again little attention was paid to us.

We turned the bend of the path as it followed the river around the corner and through a double gate. We sat for a short while before continuing onto Littlington, where the next bridge enabled us to cross over and head back toward Alfrsiton. But not before taking in the views south where the white horse overlooking the river appeared splendidly proud in the sunshine.

The first and only piece of muddy track was easily walked around. The lack of rain over the previous week had enabled us to find a route along the west side of the river without too much hindrance however there were still a few remaining areas where the mud had resisted the need to dry out.

We were soon observing the village of Alfriston from a different angle, and after seeing the swans on the opposite side again, we passed Deans Place hotel and then the Clergy House, which was the very first National Trust building that was taken on by the newly formed organisation.

This side of the river was the less popular side to walk along as we saw more walkers on the opposite side.

Our aim was to take a short rest on one of the numerous selection of seats on a patch of grass just north of the church.

After a drink and a slice of cake (lemon drizzle & poppy seed!!), we felt able to continue along the west side of the river bank. 

A young heron was static on the riverbank, watching for a possible catch. We waited for a minute or so, to see if there would be a catch, but the heron appeared to loose concentration even though it wasn't caused by us distracting him. 

We reached the brick bridge and retraced our footsteps through the same gates and across the fields where we had walked a couple hours before. A large family group of several generations were heading in the opposite direction. Again we exchanged the pleasantries of the day as the post Easter exercise group headed into Alfiston.

We arrived back at the car park and took a final look at the Long Man standing on the hillside. The 6 miles had been completed in just under 3 hours which given the weather conditions was an adequate pace for the day.

Windover (Fools Day) Hill circuit

It was a second week where all 6 of us gathered in the car park at Butts Brow. The sun was once again shining bright and the sky was very blue, but the only difference was the chilling strong wind was blowing across the top of the hill. But we were ready to get walking to generate some body heat, but this week we would be heading off in a different direction.

Downwards into the valley, our intended direction would lead us off to Jevington, trudging along the relatively dry pathway where, for the first time this year, we were managing to go through gateways without serious jumping of muddy puddles with fear of losing both grip and balance in equal measure. The pace for some was speedier than for others, well controlled whilst conversations of the week were exchanged between pairs.

We took a moment to catch our breath in a small copse after the wind had been hammering us face on. A gradual descent into the village of Jevington and our accompanying dogs were soon exciting the local canine inhabitants as we walked the short lane toward the main road. We carefully crossed over and into the opposite lane to join the horse owners after passing along the lane where the church stood surrounded by daffodils.

The well groomed horses bathed in the morning sunshine as their coats and harnesses lay across the fence where we walked. They weren't bothered by our passing and we continued uphill towards Windover Hill. The route continued up through the deeply rutted track where only the highest axle vehicles could of maneuvered.

After the second junction of footpaths and we'd reached the summit of the first ascent on the hill. We barely broke our stride and turned right and then out onto the exposed field where we absorbed views in all directions.

We stopped at the next gate and took stock of the surroundings. The added bonus of bright sunshine and blue sky caused the day and views to lift the spirit of the hike. On days like this, despite the windy conditions, made the South Downs Way a very unique experience.
The signposts across the field led us to the top of the hill where the chalk outline of the Long Man lay beneath us. A lonesome horse and rider passed us in the opposite direction and with nods of polite acknowledgment he was probably thankful we'd taken control of the dogs with us, for fear of him being dismounted. But he looked an experienced jockey and the horse appeared calm.

Hardly recognisable from this angle, The Long Man had as good a view as we did across to Alfriston, Firle Beacon and the feint vision of the Glyndbourne wind turbine and Lewes beyond.

A few more minutes and our route took us carefully down the side of the hill. The light and shade of the hillside demonstrated the undulations of the rippled earth that draped across the Downs.
Such was our fortune, when we came to the next gate, that we discovered a convenient fallen tree upon which the majority of us were able to sit and take a short rest and refreshments. The highlight noted this week was of a breakfast cereal packet of rice boulders (88 calories/portion). tasty... mmm.

Such details were becoming a feature of our conversation, but we gathered up our rucksacks and tread more steps through some more rugged terrain, where even deeper rutted tracks had left mud and water lying in wait.

In fact the next phase of track after walking on the outskirts of Folkington, deceived us at first, but soon found further areas of muddy tracks that took careful attention for navigating around without getting our boots covered in mud.
The track soon leveled out and we were turning left and in need of keeping the dogs to heel while we walked along the road toward the 'Eight Bells' pub.

The final uphill assault towards Butts Brow eventually exposed further views at the top of Eastbourne and the views of Eastbourne below us and Hastings beyond. The dogs were as pleased as were were to arrive back after a 7½ miles hike around 3 hours...

 

Butts Brow to East Dean circuit

It was one of those mornings as the quick thawing frost under the blue sky sunshine, tempted our plan to tread boots from the car park at Butts Brow. Only 4 in the group this morning and there was no time to waste as the idea of pasty sales in hot demand at the Ugly Baking Company market stand in East Dean was high priority. Well at least one of our group!!

The sun swaddled us in a good spirit to march across the top of the hill, passing the trig point and beyond. Lambing season was in full swing, and there was clear evidence of the growing stock during this walk. The ground was relatively dry, despite some recent rainfall. At least our boots would not require too much cleaning, we hoped, providing we avoided such hazards as previous walkers had done.

The sky remained blue and the sunshine was bright. The first time sunglasses had been used for some considerable time. We turned through the third gate and Belle Tout lighthouse came into clear view on the coastline horizon.

The pace was steady across the next field where sheep had eaten well and left a carpet of faded green pile. The residents of East Dean houses came into view and were soon descending down one of the main arteries where smartly manicured gardens were showing the effects of the winter month's. One resident was having a new retaining wall built. The two unlikely but perhaps aptly named "unique" builders were firing up the cement mixer in order to attach a pile of flint to a breezeblock and brick wall.

Conversation distracted us for limited periods as cars weaved their way up and down the hill around us. We were soon on the main road and dodging the traffic in order to cross and make the final few steps toward the 'squeeze gate' and on to the Market.
There were only a few stalls... thankfully the Ugly Baking Company were in position alongside the fish van and the Fruit & Veg stall.
Precious few other stands were attracting little customers, despite the car park being very active.
We paraded to the village green seat to rest a while and open our flasks. The scene looked particularly fitting as every time we reach this point in our walks through East Dean to sit down and watch village life, the sun is shining and reminded how quintessential this view is.

The clouds were gathering by the time we headed off in the direction of Birling Gap. The daffodils were in full bloom as we walked along the road and eventually reached the shhep farm where all the Easter holiday tourists would be 'flocking' to see the variety of sheep and lambs.

The footpath went alongside one of the barns as people were looking into the pens and watching the tractor providing rides across the fields for pre-school children and their parents (or maybe grandparents?).

The next few well made gates were opened and closed with ease as we headed closer to the lighthouse.

But our route soon headed us in the direction of Beachy Head before we reached the road which led to the lighthouse. The old farmhouse looked tired and almost uninhabited. The last time we passed this way, there had been a dead cow laying in the corner of the field. This time there were a herd of young cattle looking healthy and eating well. They gave us curious examination as we walked close by to some of them, but never gave threat to our need to walk through the field.
There was a long and at times relentless ascent along the next part of the path until we reached the main road leading up from Old Town toward Beachy Head. There was no traffic, so we quickly crossed over and viewed the vista toward Hastings.

The weather had significantly changed in thr last hour, and the sight of clouds were growing darker toward the north east.
Traversing the next part of the South Downs Way path we encountered the Golf Course, where groups of golfers were about their rounds with the only handicap evident, a large trolley full of golf clubs and the inability to hit the ball straight, as shortly after, we heard the cry of FORE!!
Heads shrunk into our shoulders and hoped that their aim was safe.

With no injuries, we continued along the final familiar phase of our walk. But not before the threat of rain or even hail was presenting itself as we dropped towards the final dew pond upon which ripples from drops of white hail could be seen spreading across the surface.
We didn't stop to observe, but instead hastened the pace as we wanted to complete the walk without having to stop and put on raincoats.
We completed the almost 10 mile walk, some with accompanying blisters having not tackled this distance for some time.

Three Cups, Dallington Wood, but not Batemans circuit hike

Usually the initial task on new walks is to identify where to walk, but this was taken a step further when a local Three Cups resident had to provide instructions on how to park in the provided lay-by. We duly re-parked our 2 vehicles looking less abandoned and headed down the first section toward Dallington wood.

The track was wet and muddy and only careful positioning at the side of the path enabled us to avoid getting our boots completely covered in mud with minutes of leaving the road.

A protected path that ran alongside fields, both sides of the path turned into an avenue of freshly yellow blossomed gorse bushes. More avoiding the sharp thorns we came to the first junction of paths.

There were adequate signs and landmarks for us to identify which way to continue. Unfortunate that we couldn't remain on the concrete track but instead started to head off onto another muddy track. 

A short detour to avoid the more prolific wet mud caused us to walk amongst the trees and step across the spongy carpet of dropped pine needles that lay beneath darkened trunks.

More signposts and another protected path that dropped down toward a collection of farm buildings. We walked through the centre of civilisation and upwards towards the next wood. The track headed upward, but the signpost directed up an even steeper footpath and eventually reached the top of the incline into Sugarloaf Wood.

The clouds remained heavy with little chance of seeing sunshine throughout the morning. We were about to approach another set of farm buildings. In fact, as we opened the gate a small dog was stirred from his usual Friday morning routine and greeted us with a frenzy of excitement. The large converted barn to our left loomed large over a greenhouse in which the lady of the house exchanged a few pleasantries whilst attempted to bring order and sense to her dog, who by now was just making fervent attempts to trip our group up. Yes, he was a small terrier that wouldn't take no for an answer.

A little further up the concrete drive a BT van was parked up with another resident of another nearby house. Once again we politely said our greetings as we felt guilty of trespassing through their private life. But perhaps people who have public footpaths get used to this phenomenon of passing foot traffic.

After moving out of the way from a large pickup truck and 3 horses riders (not of the apocalypse) we thought it timely to take our flasks from our backpacks and recharge our feeding needs.

After a 15 minute break we continued towards the main road with one of Mad Jack Fullers folly - the needle/obelisk stood proudly on the hill in the adjacent field over the left.

Also known as the Brightling Needle, this obelisk stands atop a hill, variously known as Brightling Down and Brightling Beacon, that is 646 feet (197 m) above sea level. The obelisk itself is 65 feet (20 m) high.  It is constructed of coursed stone, built in four sections with a stringcourse above each section. 

The fields beside the track were filling up with lambs with their mothers in close attendance.

Now out on the main road, we reach a junction and turn right. There are a group of horse boxes maneuvering around and driving off.
We reach another of Mad Jack's folly on the road towards our next footpath turning.  The Observatory completed in 1818 and designed by Sir Robert Smirke, looked out southwards towards the South Weald. It was, for the purpose of this hike referred to as Batemans... (its a long story).
We climbed another stile and headed downhill, through more muddy patches and eventually came to junction of paths that although signposted as either bridlepath or footpath gave little other indication of the destinations. Further consultation of the OS map identified the correct way... the muddiest, of course. Then crossing over a small roadway we continued downhill. The map had Foord on it, and eventually we found the location and carefully crossed the small stream that was deep in parts.
This section of the path however was showing clear signs of Spring with early primroses in full bloom. One of those micro-climate areas that escaped notice maybe.
There was another steady incline to walk up and  were on a tarmac driveway that was leading to several large houses with substantial gardens with small ponds with geese and a boat to travel across.
There were both natural and artificial waterfalls along this stretch of track. So much water continued to find its rightful level.
Eventually the drive came to a junction, onto a lane (B2096) and we went straight across and took the advice of the sign pinned to a nearby tree which suggested there was 'shooting progress - keep to the footpath'. So we walked up a steep incline on the edge of Alms wood where the highest step up stile tested some of the groups agility.
Regardless of the test set us, we were on the home straight and walking through the final set of farm buildings and out onto the next lane, where we needed to walk back into Three Cups. The Hi-Vis vests gave safe passage, even though we hardly saw any traffic. More amazing houses lined this lane in sporadic intervals and we eventually saw the Three Cups Inn come into view and around the next corner the cars were waiting.
Our 6.4 miles walk through muddy wooded tracks was completed.

Glorious Spring walk - Berwick to Firle Beacon

Assembling ourselves outside the Berwick Church which was for the 5 of us, the first port of call. The spring air and colour was vibrant and was the main signature for the the start of our walk. The suspended plastic wise owl outside the entrance to the church looked strangely pensive as our canine escorts stayed politely outside. The snowdrops carpeted areas of the grass nearby.

But we were soon heading down across the fields at the back of the church through the many crooked gravestones. The strong aroma of decomposing straw and manure was a reminder of the rural setting into which we were walking. For most of the first 3+ miles we would be walking along the old coach road which ran at the foot of the South Downs.

The gravel track was peppered with occasional puddles. The first impressive sight was that of a converted barn which was in the final phase of renovation and what appeared to be holiday lets in a single storey extension. The flint stoned walls sparkled in the sun and enviously looked across the idyllic building.
We had to herd the dogs to our side as a tractor trundled past. The driver acknowledged our efforts to allow him through, despite there being no arguing the size of his machine. To our right several large prey birds (possibly red kites) soared around nearby hedgerows and trees.

The newly sown fields were starting to show signs of growth with stripes of green shoots holding sharp perspective and with a gentle breeze, it was looking like we'd chosen the perfect day for walking.

Conversation continued between us, and our pace was only disrupted by the needs of securing the dogs safety at strategic points along the way. We were closing in on a house that we recalled had some guardian dogs who tried to dissuade us from proceeding further, the last time we were there. But just as we were about to capture our dogs to heel we noticed a peacock strut pass the entrance to the house. Thankfully the dogs had not seen them and we managed to walk without hindrance as we heard the dogs barking from within the house.

The pace was testing us as we had to detour into a field as the track was virtually impassable due to the amount of water/chalk mud swamp that would have meant we may have been up to our ankles.
We were about to start the steep ascent to join the South Downs Way path on the top of the Downs.
But before, we thought it about time to crack the seal on our flasks and snack containers so that our energy was primed.

The muddy track upwards and the higher we climbed the windier it became as we met the south westerly wind hitting our faces. The group broke up as we all coped with the climb at different paces.
The views once we were at the high point near Firle Beacon were magnificent. We looked down upon the new Solar Farm near Arlington Reservoir which appeared to be a second watery mass.

Other walkers were striding along the same path, mostly in the opposite direction, heading into the wind which remained relentless across our path. The clouds over the sea were looking a little threatening at times as if they could have given a shower of rain. Thankfully no rain appeared and just as well as none of us were particularly equipped with rainwear.

Heads down, we endured the next 15 minutes trudge as the dogs seemed to be relishing the freedom.
We considered options of which route and decided it would be useful to drop back down at Bo-Peep car park toward the Old Coach road and take shelter from the wind. The dogs required shepherding carefully down the road as a few other cars and the same tractor passed by again.

We were now back down to the relative calm of the old track again and retracing our steps towards Berwick church. The spire could be seen as we turned the corner where the 3 way junction seat directed us in either direct Firle, Alciston or Berwick.

A few clouds were starting to form, bu the sunshine remained as we completed the final few corners of the track and headed back to our respective cars and released the laces on our boots after completing almost 8 miles walk.

Rotherfield & Saxonbury Hill hike - where water flows uphill

A Condensed Movie of the walk

There are some days that deserve our full attention when the frost of early morning has moved over and allowed the sun to illuminate the local landscape... and this was it. The blue sky christened our arrival outside Rotherfield Village Hall as the four of us laced our boots and harnessed our backpacks into position.

It was a repeat of the same hike completed by a different group of us last year, although there was a plan to find there way through the maze of woodland paths during the final phase of the walk.

But more of that later. We were ready to head along the first short distance from the car park towards the first footpath, passing a steep set of steps into Rotherfield Bowls Club, which was signposted to our right. The path was actually marked as Chant Lane. There was a notice to say it was closed to vehicles and couldn't really understand how vehicles could even contemplate driving down a narrow, steep very muddy track that was extremely uneven. We carefully picked our route along the path which after descending for several hundred yards then climbed again. The sun was glistening through the trees that overhung the lane which then came out beside a farm and a row of cottages. 

The instructions informed us that we were to turn left through a gate and walk down a narrow path that led us several interesting properties, cutting across drives and into the next field we continued along the marked path. Once section that we crossed was in the most northern part of the old Cuckoo railway line that we'd walked last week.

The sun had caused much birdsong to be heard as we walked and realised that the first signs of spring may be closer that we had thought. The path led us through more fields and finally came out on to what appeared to be a very small village green, bordered on 2 sides by roads. A small bench took pride of place at the top hedge and pondered whether any local games of cricket may have been played on there or even the Sussex game of Stoolball. The grass however was long and in need of a committed groundsman if it were ever to return to its former glory. Well that's if our ideas held any worth or value.

We were back walking along the next quiet lane passing the quintessential image of thatched cottages and looking out for our next landmark. Bricklayers Lane was our next turning and again, traversed beside large wooded area that were illuminated by the sunshine. We had to make a few hurried moves to the verge as large 4x4 vehicles came through with a glancing hand gesture that gave us small recompense for our efforts to avoid being hit.

Regardless, we were not to be put off and continued down the hill where a collection of small streams collected and flowed under the road. The steep climb the other side was a quick reminder of just how hilly this area was.

We were now at the edge of the wood to our right which was our cue to take a left onto another signposted footpath. But no sooner had we started walking along this path, a motorcyclist came passed us... Presumably this footpath was open to vehicles. In truth though, the footpath was also a drive to few houses that took in the views of the elevated position. A worker was leaning against a gate as we arrived at one of the houses and acknowledged us. He appeared to have been erecting a fence as his post hammer was close to hand.

We continued for a little further uphill and finally arrived at the highest point of the walk. As we turned left we looked south west over the top of the freshly trimmed hedge and realised how far we could see. In the distance was Crowborough on the horizon. The entire vista was a sharp reminder of what rewards there could be for the effort to walk out into the countryside. We steadily walked down along the lane known as Danegate. A steady pace was necessary as on some parts of the road there were patches of sludge and ice which at this altitude was refusing to melt despite the sunshine.

Speaking of which the clouds had started to gather more during the past half hour and the breeze had gathered strength. There was no threat of rain though, but thought it timely to stop at a bench and take an opportunity to compare snacks and flask content. In fact the added bonus was a slice of freshly baked pecan and cranberry cake which was just the energy lifter we needed to cope with the final section of the walk.

As we were about set off down the next bridleway, a quad bike drove gingerly past us and the rider gave a hearty 'good morning'. No sign of a bale of hay or a border collie riding pillion though. We never saw him again, but assumed he'd found his way, as we were about to, and find the bottom of the hill where a foord awaited us. On first sight from a distance there was no sign of there being a footbridge that enabled us to traverse the stream without getting wet. But despite the footbridge 2 of us decided upon testing out the waterproof claim of our gortex shone boots. Apart from a dribble of water that must have crept in via the lace eyelet, we crossed with our saturation status intact.

Once again, because this was a stream, we were at the bottom of a hill which meant only one thing afterwards... Upwards via a twisting footpath which was clearly defined. We arrived at the top where a road and several cars were parked. We crossed and entered through a gate which welcomed us into another wood known as Big Millhole wood.

The car owners were clearly dog owners as we saw a couple people coming up through the wood from the direction in which we were heading. Several footpath junctions and we navigated out way once again to the bottom of the valley where the same disused railway line (Cuckoo Line) once was.

We carefully stepped through the gate and under the bridge that supported the line old track above our head. The other side was a well constructed bridge that gave us safe and clean passage to the wooded area through which we needed to walk through to find our way to the road.

The network of footpaths were becoming more confusing and once we'd crossed over the road to find the continuation of the same path, the signposting became more scarce and caused some confusion about which was the best way. The directions we had printed out had become useless to our means and our sense of direction and compass in hand were become dependant on our charm offensive to asking a lady with a 3 legged dog for assistance. She pointed in the complete opposite direction to where we thought we needed. She admitted that this had been a different route for her and she wasn't too certain about the best way she was going to be repatriated with her car.

We bid our farewells and hoped the 3 legs of the dog as well as her 2, would manage to get her back home.

In the meantime, we started to look for any possible signs that might help us get back on track. There was a strange woodpecker sound above our heads. He was probably communicating with other wildlife that there were some hikers lost. The bracken and broken branches on the ground tested our resolve, but we found a sign which led us onto  open land with a protected fenced path through which previous walkers had caused the track to be very muddy and slippery. Our attempts to walk with legs apart, trying to maintain our dignity as well as balance, made it look like we had an allergy to mud. We almost came to grief on a couple of occasions but we arrived at a stile over which we climbed onto slightly better terrain even though there was just as much mud churned up by what appeared to be more quad bikes.

A couple more fields and we were heading back down the lane and joining the original lane toward the village hall.

The car was in exactly the same place, and after our 7 mile hilly circuit we travelled home.