Game on

31 January ‘26. DH, RW, PCL, DL, JB, CH, JS , Ralph, Scrumpy & Albus

It’s the final day of what has been a very wet January and with there being plenty of water on the levels and also down the Blackmore Vale, I spent a few hours searching for a route which would be as clean and dry as possible but without it being another road walk around one of our local towns, and of course had a cafe to go to afterwards. As such there were two cars of four heading east into Wiltshire today for a walk onto the hills to the north of Teffont Magna. I had spotted a suitable parking space by the church and after a couple of delays en route we arrived around ten minutes after the 0830 RV to find the occupants of the Wincanton car parked up and checking out the cute church and village stream.

The church is unusually dedicated to Edward, King of the West Saxons, although this only came about as recently as 1965. There is more information about the church here. Once we were booted up we took a brief look at the stream just across the road which was gushing down the valley, and with so much volume and force it struggled to get under a quaint small stone bridge which allowed access into someone’s back garden. The water was exceptionally clear as we followed it upstream by the side of the road. Ralph was ‘persuaded’ to keep his eye out for fish and he stopped at every opportunity to ensure he didn’t miss any. Unfortunately for him there were none to be seen today but the clarity of water coming down off of the nearby chalk hills and the detail that could be seen on the river bed, continued to amaze us all.

Each of the properties on the far side of the stream (and there were some very nice ones) had their own stone bridge, either pedestrian or vehicular, across it leading to their residences. Just a short distance further up the road is the official spring head to the stream, marked on some maps as the Holy Well or Sacred. The spring forms the boundary between two former hundreds and was used to supply water for Teffont Magna and Teffont Evias. The place name 'Teffont' can be traced back to at least the 9th Century and derives from 'boundary stream or spring'.

On the opposite side of the road the large Manor Farm must have played an equally important part in the village and looks like it is still well used these days.

We turned off the road and up a small track towards some cottages and then had to follow the footpath around the edge of a field to reach a solid stone track taking us north onto the hills. Scrumpy was let off the lead and immediately took off after a couple of partridge that were previously enjoying a quiet start to their day, and was subsequently put back on again to save any unfortunate incident were she to be successful in her chase. As we climbed slowly above the village the views around the Wiltshire countryside slowly opened up for us to take in. Ralph decided the muddy track in the field was far more suited to his wellies and strode up with his head down until he came back across to join the group.

The higher we climbed the more of the wonderful rolling landscape just off the edge of Salisbury Plain opened up and the more pheasants and partridge took off into the blue sky to get out of our way. As we reached a brief summit we entered an area of conifers and it was time for Phil and John to play a IIttle trick on Ralph. Phil had brought along a couple of very large pine cones and dropped them on the ground at the foot of the trees. As Ralph approached , JB bent down to ‘find’ this great surprise and immediately challenged Ralph to find a bigger one. Ralph’s face lit up and he scoured the f heaps of naturally fallen cones, before he too set eyes on a whopper. He was over the moon and delighted when JB actually declared it was the winner. So with it added to his backpack he was chuffed as anything - thanks Phil for making his day!

As we continued through the wooded area both of the dogs were pulling on their leads as a good number of grey partridges ran along the track in front of us, always staying just out of range. The grey partridge is a rotund bird, brown-backed, with grey flanks and chest, with a white belly. Hens lay up to twenty eggs in a ground nest which is usually in the margin of a cereal field, most commonly winter wheat.

As we dropped down into a large valley, Albus seized his chance as he was finally let of the lead and took off after some of the little birds. As he continued racing across the open ground, there were at least three Red Kites circling above he wood he was heading for. Deryck was getting ready to take his coat off and take chase but Albus eventually responded to the shout and sheepishly decided to turn around and come back to us. He was certainly panting more than we’ve every seen as he was quickly put back on his lead.

We dropped into the bottom and then took a steep grassy