13 01 24 RW , TO , PC , PC , DL , JB Albus and Scrumpy
We met at the car park of Toybox Preschool which is painfully close for Trevor to the educational powerhouse known as Ansford Academy. Our route is a familiar one to readers of this blog…so this report will be a brief one (mercifully). First stop for our newer members was along Maggs Lane where some marvellous Highland breed cattle can be found…keeping a low profile so close to Burns Night (I know Haggis is made out of sheeps guts but do the cows know that?) We followed the footpath round the scarp of a fine view out towards the levels with Glastonbury just visible amongst the morning mists.
Maggs Lane terminates at the Wyke Road and we turned right back towards Cary for a short spell before climbing the bank where the steps are gradually deteriorating (the stile has already gone) and across a field alongside the notorious Knapp Hollow where Scrumpy once had a sparky encounter with an electric fence. We were looking down onto the dormant apple orchards belonging to the Tilley family with a distant view of Alfred’s Tower to our left. Trevor led us into a steep descent of the hillside in the direction of Bottom Barn Farm with gorse bushes and rough bunches of brambles abounding. At the bottom of the valley we trudged through soggy ground and empty fields to the settlement of Hadspen.
I explained as we followed the lane towards Higher Hadspen that the community of just a few houses had been traumatized by flooding on 9th May 2023 when the charming little stream had swollen to a torrent and entered five of the houses. The road at Hadspen corner had become a river and where we walked today we would have waded on the9th. As ever, when streams or rivers are “at ease” it is difficult to imagine how powerful forces can be unleashed by nature. Fortunately, no one was injured but plenty were put through a hell of a time that day and night.
The route took us past the Brooks’ house where the main house had remained dry but right next door what may have been a converted barn or cottage had been drowned. All looked serene today…we paused for our sweets and reflected on the vagaries of life. A huge bank of snowdrops was just beginning to show on the roadside where someone had nearly succumbed to exposure and fatigue in the flooding.
We walked on through pasture to the bottom end of Hell Ladder Lane. Here a woman chuckled and said “You’ll need your wellies” which in classic form followed on from me saying something like “Well, it hasn’t been too bad under foot so far”. Through the stile we discovered a quagmire blocking our way..no wonder she chuckled. Trevor took the lead and we just about scrambled past – we all watched the next one struggle through hoping for a misstep and a hilarious plunging into the mud. It didn’t happen.
Crossing the A371 on Cary Hill, we passed over to the top of Lodge Hill with its fine view of the dogfood factory and round to South Cary. Which led us back to The George for breakfast…sadly the teapot lid has broken so we had to make do with individual pots. Minor disappointments in the great scheme of things…..