Good Walk.... wrong part of the day

Sitting in the car park of the Golden Galleon watching the intermittent wiper blades clear the rain, we waited for the other 2 of our group and considered alternative options to walking...  any local all day breakfast venues?
There had been an early fog which, as we'd driven to our meeting place, cleared and sunshine caused the visors to be employed at stages of the journey, however as we dressed according to the forecast, the rain clouds were closing in again.

Our aim was to ascend to Seaford Head and observe the Seven Sisters cliff formation from the west, rather than the usual Birling Gap observation angle.
We set off but soon warmed up despite the increasing wind which, by the time we'd walked to the end of Chyngton Lane, had caused the waterproof trousers to be applied in order to survive the ascent to the summit of Seaford Head via the car park where dog walkers were bravely encountering the strong gusts of southerly wind. The rain at this point was lashing across our faces and made conversation a treacherous activity.

We dodged our way across the fairway of one of the holes on the golf course and turned east which allowed the wind to hit our backs. The Cliff edge only metres away, it was only the brave-hearted vertigo immune people who were tempted to see the drop below.

The hazy view of the Seven Sisters came into focus and a steady descent into the valley named as 'Hope Gap' awaited a brief stop as we observed the effect of the storms of the last month or more.

Newly broken chalk segments were scattered across the shoreline.
The quintessential calendar shot came into view as we rose above the nearby cottages that feature in numerous shots of the Seven Sisters cliffs.
The rain had eased off for a good half hour now, and there were signs of clouds breaking up on the far horizon. The final stretch back to the car park however meant some strategic moves were required.  The recent rainfall had turned the footpath into nothing less than a muddy tracks where the work of a large tractor had caused deep rain filled ruts to add to the slippery trek.
The Canadian Geese watched us from a safe distance as did other colourfully marked birds (the identity of which escaped our knowledge base for the moment).

We noted a sign for those less able to identify sheep, and wondered why they couldn't provide similar signs to help identify the birds.

A 2 hour walk of around 4.5 miles had caused a thirst that needed quenching. Dehydration being the enemy of any serious hiker, we quickly considered the benefits of a drink at the pub who's car park we had based ourselves in. It seemed only fair, although it appeared to be a pub that was more interested in providing food, that the ability to serve beer. We left the pub with the sun blazing down and the blue sky backdrop to the distant hills. It was definitely as case of walking at the wrong time of day, and will need to take more notice of the weather forecast in future.

A Windy Firle Beacon!

We were determined to set a few challenges for 2014, and this may have been a good start.
3 intrepid members of the group had, the previous week, been out for a scouting walk across from Butts Brow.
This week the 4 of us decided that the weather shouldn't put us off too much, however with concerns about just how much some footpaths may have encountered the excessive wrath of rainfall over the previous few weeks, we decided to meet on the hill overlooking Firle.
All four of us were dressed in waterproofs, gloves and an array of hat-gear that left us feeling both fashionable and equipped for whatever the elements had to throw at us. The boots were laced tightly and we headed off....
Having said that, we did opt to walk away from the 20mph gusting wind and head east along the South Downs Way.

A high level of concentration was necessary as the wind started to take a side swipe across our faces. The rain was just starting to come down to accompany the wind... but we continued through the first mile across the top of the hill.

We then reached the Bo-Peep car park and decided to descend down the road. Immediately the wind dropped and we loosened the wrap of garments that were keeping us warm. We reached the old Coach Road and turned along it in a westerly direction.
The pace was maintained, however the occasional distraction of unidentified birds (of prey?) soared across nearby fields and accompanied by even more unidentified bird song. The nature spotting continued as we then observed a well fed fox pounding a furrow in another field. A little later we encountered some rather ambitious dogs who attempted to ambush our attempt to walk further. We had thankfully assessed that their bark was far more ferocious than anything that we should have been too bothered about.
The Coach Road had taken its toll of the recent rainfall and the muddy tracks left by triumphant 4x4's caused us to find an alternative way through the the final section of the walk.
A lone dog walker approached us as we took a 10 minute snack break. One dog was proudly showing off a rabbit within its jaws, much to the embarrassment of its owner, whilst the second dog showed a fearful dislike to walk passed us, despite the desperate calls of the owner. Eventually the dogs and owner were re-united, whilst we discussed first-aid procedures should any of us drop to our knees with indications of heart failure. It was pleasing to hear us discuss such aspects of our adventures. I will in future be adding the 'coast guard' and 'air-sea rescue' service numbers to my mobile.

The ascent back up the hill was steady and, as expected, the usual challenge which we paced ourselves for. As we reached the summit, our coats, gloves and hats were replaced as the wind started to hit us full in the face.
The final half mile stretch back to the car park was interrupted by a short, sharp and somewhat stinging heavy downpour. The gate into the carpark was a welcome sight, just as the rain stopped and watched the blackened rain filled sky disappear north.

December's Long Man circuit

December has come all too soon, and despite weather conditions worsening on the east coast with surge floods threatening the shore line, the forecast was good for this area, so 3 intrepid explorers convened in the car park at Long Man, Wilmington at 9.30 and started to stride toward Windover Hill to pay our respects to the Long Man who was looking crisp and whit against the grass slope.

Further up the hill, dogs overtook us as we took the views across towards Firle Beacon.

The sun came into view as we reached the summit of Windover Hill and kept a respectful distance from a flock of sheep who were looking in prime condition for motherhood. We then headed south with a view of Lullington Heath ahead of us.

We encountered few other walkers as we descended toward the northern edge of Friston Forest. A couple of galloping horses disturbed the silence for a short while as we reached the junction where several paths and bridleways converged.

We changed direction and set our steps westward toward Littlington, and after another another 20 minutes were walking outside the Plough & Harrow. We were aware that the aforementioned surge flood warnings may be affecting some of the Kent and Sussex coast, however we weren't that prepared for what we then encountered as we witnessed masses of drowned worms washed up from previous high tides that had burst the banks of the Cuckmere River. It was time to reconsider the options of how to return into Alfriston. We crossed the bridge and consulted three female hikers coming in the opposite direction, assuming they had managed to walk on the bank we were heading. They confirmed our assumptions, however then witnessed them struggling to keep their footing on the slippery bank. In fact one of them disappeared from sight as hoots of laughter were heard from the other two. We were pleased to have chosen the west bank, even though we had to weave our way through several sections for optimum foothold benefits.

We arrived in Alfriston and sat for a while outside the church on one of numerous commemorative benches.
The final leg back toward Milton Street and the ground was significantly improving. A field of sprouting turnips were regimentally carpeting the field we walked through and with Wilmington Priory coming into view our walk was coming to an end.

The Yew tree in the churchgrounds of Wilmington Church directed our safe passage back onto the road and into the car park again. It was around 1pm which around 8 miles completed.

The Battle of Mud Walk

Our numbers were to have swollen to 4 today, having recruited a new member to our group, however one of our regular walkers was unable to join us having been struck down with 'man flu'
Our original plan for Robertsbridge was therefore postponed and the 3 of us drove to Battle to set the coordinates towards Seddlescombe village. Once there we parked and invested our savings with the local council obliging to 'Pay & Display' as the sign suggested.
The slate grey skies looked heavy with rain as we commenced our ritual of doning waterproof trousers and raincoats in the car park. The nearby twitten beckoned our adventure to start and were soon heading down the first lane, preparing to encounter a few rain soaked paths. Little did we know just how the state of the footpaths would turn out.

The walk passed under the main Hastings to London railway line and absorbed the damp air within it. The aromatic senses were swiftly tested as we passed alongside the sewage works then toward a field containing unharvested sweetcorn with a double rainbow arching its colours across the darkened skyline.

Crossing Marley Lane, the walk then went across the bottom of numerous gardens. Rain showers were becoming regular but not so bad as to deter our attention from the evidence of wildlife alongside an adjacent stream. Horses were ready to greet us on the final field thinking we may be able to liberate them at the gate. In the distance, a heron was taking flight and as we caught sight of the traffic on the A21, sheep were running around in an attempt to avoid our closer attention.

They succeeded and the final stile was climbed over before the final muddy path into Seddlescombe.
We sat at the shelter in the central green. Locals were going about their business. The bins were efficiently emptied by our side. (not certain why it took 2 council workers to undertake such a task).
Rested after 15 minutes, we re-traced our steps back towards the lane we entered the village, but then turned left and crossed the A21 about half a mile south from where we'd crossed it before.

It was time to ready ourselves for the more muddy trek through the Great Wood after walking through a narrow wooded gully where more evidence of badgers could be seen. Our sticks held tightly and with map in hand we navigated our way along the formal trackways which, due to the recent heavy rainfall and even heavier machinery that had been maneuvering felled trees, challenged every step with mud splattering in numerous directions. Stamina was our only saving grace and we kept the pace going through sections of the wood which we later discovered had been closed for public access.

Back out onto Marley Lane and we explored the interesting variety of houses. The level crossing remained open as the climb up towards the centre of Battle came into sight. Like Pilgrims walking through the well dressed residents of Battle who nodded in respectful acknowledgement of what could have been a walk that had taken 3 days, not 3 hours. The walk was actually 6.2 miles by the way.
Arriving back in the car park, we disrobed and drove out of Battle to stop off for a liquid lunch at the Bull in Boreham Street.

November Market Walk

There are occasional days at this time of year when the forecast can be trusted and the instinct of a good day is guaranteed, you just have to put everything to one side and decide a walk is the only medicine.
Hardly a whisper of breeze and the climate temperature could not have been improved upon.
A familiar gathering in the car park at Butts Brow, after ascending the leafy and at times slippery lane, the usual suspects were acknowledging the direction to head. The Market at East Dean was a regular Wednesday morning gathering, where local traders put their produce, crafts and bric a brac on display.

The blue sky was hardly interrupted as we headed towards the first gate and sheep looked on as farmers were inspecting the livestock in a different manner to how we were admiring their stance. The trees across in Friston Forest were adjusting their camouflage to an amber dark brown with an expectant yellowing and eventual falling of leaves with the next few weeks.
Our descent into East Dean through houses that soaked up views across to Bell Toute and beyond.
A flurry of traffic, which seemed like East Dean's late 'rush hour', gave cause for us to take avoiding action until we reached the main road and crossed over and into the lane opposite.

The Market was now in sight and the cars were maneuvering for spaces. Such was the demand for spaces, 2 car park attendants were regularly directing cars into the best spot to find a place to park.
Although tempted by numerous items of craft and produce, it was only a £3 bag of kindling that attracted the attention of us, however realised it was a little too bulky to place in the rucksack and return to the car with.
After a short period of negotiation, it was agreed that the trader would keep the sack of kindling back in order to collect later. It was 10:50 and the trader would be packing up at 12.30 and we therefore had little over an hour to return to Butts Brow, collect car and drive back to collect the bag of kindling.
The second half return walk was unintentionally spurred by these facts in the hope that £3, (which had been handed over) was not wasted. It didn't distract from further views and other observations that gave cause for conversation. The fields were active with more sheep and barns being prepared for their gathering.

We then passed through the golf course where numerous golfers were hardly challenged by the weather conditions. They appeared focused in their attempts to work on their swings and putting techniques as we walked along the concrete path to the top of the course.
We turned left and were on the home straight for the car park. It was dog walkers again that filled the paths in this final section. All shapes and sizes were enjoying the day.
We'd almost walked 7 miles and the clock was moving toward 12 noon as we kept a relentless pace on the final stage toward the car park. Would the kindling still be there?

epilogue
Well, it was a happy ending for the return to East Dean. The trader was just packing up, and the kindling was collected. Its likely to be a cold night again tonight, so there's a good chance there'll not be as much left by morning.
 

CLOCKS go Back

The clocks have gone back... and the days are therefore shorter, so there's some respectful advice about making sure people are safe when they go out walking...

Advice LINK

Cowbeech Harvest Time Walk

Its a walk we admit having done before and could refer you to a previous account of this walk, in April 2012. However, like many repeated walks, the journey takes on different scenes, smells and conversations least alone the challenges that were to confront us.
The usual clockwise direction having parked in the Merrie Harriers pub took us along what you'd expect to be quiet narrow country lanes... but no. On repeated occasions we were stepping aside to make way for all manner of vehicle. We were about to start the off road track when we encountered a map and indications that the usual route being closed. We concluded that it was closed to more ambitious vehicles and maverick horsemen and that our wandersome approach through the commercial orchard would not create too much damage.
We entered the orchard area as 4 men were exiting. We nodded graciously as they consulted their map and headed in the opposite direction from where we had come from.
The next 10-15 minutes we indulged ourselves in close inspection and tasting of the fruit which had fallen from heavily laden pear trees.

We then moved on to inspect the apples which were even more abundantly loaded. The reports of a good crops of fruit were confirmed by these specimens. Empty boxes were awaiting the workers to start loading the 'fruits of their labour' (literally)...

The nearby allotments were providing as much evidence of a good crop of pumpkins ready for recipes and carving, not to mention the chicken and ducks that also occupied the allotment.
We strolled out of the orchard without hinderance, thinking that our rucksacks may have been scanned for scrumping booty.

The sky was blue with scattered clouds by this time and we spotted planes crossing vapour trails in the sky. The far horizon of Old Heathfield Church caught the sunlight. It was all looking autumnal when through the next gate we then saw the more distressing sight of a dead sheep that had been attacked and partially eaten side.

We crossed the road and entered the second phase of the walk through harvested sweetcorn fields. We then spied the 4 men we had earlier seen at the far end of the field and we were converging on the same point. They were taking a seriously meaningful regimental stride and seemed like a race, as we took a more relaxed amble approach to the same point. They beat us by a few seconds, and the last straggler of the group nodded in acknowledgement. The other 3 kept a purposeful pace into the wood.

Meanwhile we took more interest in the fauna and fungi that carpeted the woodland floor, whilst the sound of a chainsaw became louder as we go to the far end of the wooded area.

The 4 walking men were almost out of sight by the time we walked across the next field, then saw them continuing along the lane as we turned back toward Blackford Farm.
The sound of pheasants echoed around the woods from all directions. Admittedly, we startled a few as we descended down the concrete drive from the farm. They ran with crazy excitement, often in circles and no sense of what might happen next. Fortunate for them, we were unarmed and had no reason to take home a brace for the table.

The warmth of the sun had come as a complete surprise and although Autumn was forecasting colder air by the end of the week, we were soaking up the remnants of what little summer climate was remaining. Our 2 hour walk concluded in observing the Cowbeech phone-box which now provided an alternative communication point by offering a small village library of books, a plant and magazines and the walking route that we had just completed.
Boots off and the walk completed.