Saturday 25th November ‘23. DH, TO, BFS, PC, AC, DL, JB, CH
A cold and clear night had left the ground covered in the first winters frost of the year as we headed to Evercreech for a walk through Stoney Stratton and up to Chesterblade this morning.
The largest group for some time met at the earlier time of 08.30 in the Bell Inn car park and with all eight of us suitable wrapped up with hats and gloves set off for a hilly two hour walk. For the first time in a very long time, possibly in fact ever in our long and illustrious history, we were without any of our four legged friends this week. It certainly felt rather odd for myself as from the very initial conception of the group, walking a dog has always been one of the reasons for getting out and apart from the rare occasions Sully has not been with us, we have always had the company of either Bill, Scrumpy or in recent times Albus.
We headed out of Evercreech in an easterly direction and through a frosty field and a couple of swinging kissing gates before a short road section took us to the bottom side of Stoney Stratton. A finger post pointed to the footpath which was actually differentiated by a concrete edge alongside the tarmac section of a private drive, with a fast flowing stream on the other side of a low hedge and wall. Along the path small bridges provided a foot way into neighbouring cottage gardens and a selection of stone figures were positioned ant suitable points all the way up. We passed through the front garden area of another property before exiting the narrow village Back Lane. In the far corner we took another narrow footpath which lead through to a gateway into a field which we crossed and climbed a stile onto a good concrete track.
The sun was already breaking through the early morning mist and the frost was quickly melting as we made our way northwards along the track, climbing gently as we went. As the track ended we set off through fields and gateways as we aimed for the ridge line in the distance. At one crossing point, which was literally no more than a fence in a gap in the hedge and with no other easy route through, Adrian successfully climbed the first side but with no way of getting over gracefully, was unceremoniously man handled by Brian as he lifted him across and safely down on the far side. As we gained height the views around us started to appear and with the morning mist still hugging the lower ground obscuring properties and farmland, the ridges and hilltops stood out against the bright skies. A lone tree which had shed all it leaves provided a great photo opportunity against the misty sunny background.
As the hour mark approached we made it to the top, alongside the old multivallate hillfort and round barrow cemetery of Small Down knoll. The following information about it is all from the historic England website.
Small multivallate hillforts are rare with around 100 examples recorded nationally. Most are located in the Welsh Marches and the south-west with a concentration of small monuments in the north-east. Small multivallate hillforts are rare and important for understanding the nature of settlement and social organisation within the Iron Age period. Round barrow cemeteries date to the Bronze Age (c.2000-700 BC). The Small Down Knoll defences surround the summit of the hill and enclose an area of approximately 4.3ha within which the round barrow cemetery is located. The hillfort survives as a double rampart and partially buried ditch on all except the eastern side where there is a further counterscarp bank of up to 1m high. The ramparts survive differentially from simple scarps above largely buried ditches to near vertical profiles with flat topped banks. There are two original causewayed entrances to the east and south east. It is known locally as Small Down Knoll Camp. Partial excavations were carried out by Gray in 1904 which recovered a flint knife and scraper, fragment of human jawbone and Iron Age pottery. Within the interior of the hillfort is a round barrow cemetery containing at least 14 barrows which survive as circular mounds surrounded by buried quarry ditches from which the construction material was derived. The mounds vary in size from 6m up to 13m in diameter and from 0.2m up to 1.5m high. Most of the mounds have hollows indicating early partial excavation. Skinner excavated three of the barrows in 1827 and found an urn containing ashes and a cremation, some flints and in a separate barrow an urn of ‘superior workmanship’. One barrow was excavated by Gray and revealed a cremation, 14 fragments of Bronze Age pottery and many flints including four knives, a scraper and two saws. The area within the hillfort has been subject to past stone quarrying.
This monument is scheduled under the Ancient Monuments and Archaeological Areas Act 1979.
Unfortunately there was not time to go onto the hilltop today (and it is private land) so we paused for the group selfie with the top of Alfred’s Tower just visible above the trees on the far ridge behind us. The tower above Cranmore was also visible in a more northerly direction. Lollies were distributed in a random fashion as we started the descent although still heading away from our destination at this point. A gate on the left took us into a field still holding onto the frost as the sun was just visible over the top of the fort as we made our way around to the southern edge of the hamlet of Chesterblade.
We turned left onto a narrow road and from here it really was downhill all the way. As we approached a bend in the road, a small amount of water was running onto the road and the central area was a sheet of ice. Tucked away on the side of the road and partially hidden by the overgrown hedge were two old and abandoned sports cars from the 1970s. A wire wheeled MGB in a very faded shade of British Racing Green with a dodgy looking black hard top was nose to nose with a very sorry looking Porsche 911. I initially thought it was a 1969 Carrera variant, but on researching the Porsche website I found the following which has changed my mind and could explain why it is still be left on the roadside to the mercy of the tin worms; in 1965 Porsche launched the 912 – a less expensive and significantly less powerful variant of the 911. In terms of looks and technology, the 912 was virtually identical to the 911. Unlike the 911, however, it was powered by the 1.6-litre flat-four engine from the 356 SC at the rear. Its power output was reduced from 95 to 90 hp at 5,800 rpm for use in the 912 in order to give the engine more low-end torque and stability. Power transmission was provided by a 4-speed manual transmission.
Whatever model it turns out to be, it was certainly a long way from being in a useable condition as the front bumper area was totally rotten away, the passenger door (assuming it was RHD) had more paint missing than present and the rear end was touching the ground where it had parted company from the main body. Who knows what the rest of it was like? Pete, John and Chris at this point were clearly in shock but their minds were racing with just how much money and effort would be needed to restore one or both of them. They were so engrossed in the lumps of metal and contemplating if their wives would agree to taken on a restoration project, that they missed the rest of us who had pushed on, as we turned off the road and into what looked like a farm yard to continue along the path by the river.
The five of us without realising they were not following, continued through a farmyard full of jersey cows in their winter barn, with a few very young ones in a separate pen and on down to the farmhouse area, where we were met by a trio of very unfriendly geese blocking and protecting the path ahead. As they hissed ferociously and got closer and closer to our legs we carefully made our way past them as they eventually gave up and jumped into the mill pond. We stopped at a safe distance to take a few photos as we waited for the last three to join us. We stood there for a few minutes before realising that they weren’t coming to join us, so Brian volunteered to wait for them as the remaining four of us headed on down. We came to a bridge over the stream where again we paused momentarily whilst all the time looking back hopefully for the signs of company. The peacefulness of the morning was interrupted by a call from Brian who reported that he had walked all the way back to the rusty cars, only to find that the missing trio were not there. A quick call to John confirmed that they had indeed missed the track and were walking down the road back towards Stoney Stratton. This message was then relayed back to Brian who was stuck with the choice of either taking off after the missing trio or moving on down stream to catch us up, so opted for the former in the hope it would be easier going and that he would catch sight of the wayward trio quickly. We agreed to head on and hoped we would catch up again in the village.
We continued through open fields and very soon made our way onto a path with the fast running stream running on our right side. The pathway moved across to the far bank as the stream accelerated over a pebbled area and so treading carefully across it we then continued down a narrow pathway with the water now on our left. As the sun shone through the trees and with the movement of the water it looked as though steam was rising from a boiling watercourse. Another crossing, this time on stepping stones, switched the path and stream again but Adrian and myself headed right onto the safety of a farm track whilst Trevor and Dereyk tiptoed across the stones carefully and followed the stream back into the village. Reunited the four of us headed towards the High Street and just as we reached the crossroads Brian strode around the corner looking somewhat flushed as he had yomped along the longer road section at a good pace, although without finding our missing rogue trio.
We deduced therefore that they were either totally lost or were well in front of us all at this point so with time being tight we continued on, cutting the corner across the fields and reaching the pub at around 10.40. As we approached, who should we see through the windows and sat at the table ready for breakfast but our missing three amigos! The walk had taken just over 2 hours and we covered 4.6 miles on the official route, with maybe an extra few hundred metres for those who ’opted’ for the alternative route.
There was plenty of friendly banter going up and down the table and it became like a fisherman’s tale at some points as the story got exaggerated beyond recognition as we waited for our big, medium, tinker or veggie bells to be served. Plenty of toast, hot drink refills and good helpings of hot food certainly made for another good breakfast at The Bell. All in all a great morning out through some new and wonderful frosty scenery with terrific views and as always so close to home. Thanks to Dereyk for some of todays photos.
Next weekend it’s our annual Christmas walk and meal with our good ladies, hopefully no deviations from route then or there will be others more important to answer to if they miss their Christmas lunch!
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