Mist tree tour

Sat 15 Nov ‘25. DH, PCL, DL, JB, JS & Ralph

Thankfully Storm Claudia passed through the area twenty four hours previous to todays walk, so assuming all the ground would be pretty sodden I opted for a walk predominantly on good hard tracks and roads this week. Having already selected the Old Red Lion as our breakfast location, the obvious choice was to repeat a walk we last completed well before most of todays walkers had even joined this illustrious group. The morning started very misty although there was the occasional threat of the sun breaking through at some point as we drove up through Kilmington. With Phil joining the four Wincanton regulars and with the addition of young grandson Ralph, six of us met at the RV on Druley Hill which has now a much larger parking area than that first walk here in October 2021. Once booted up we’re soon entering into the woods where Ralph almost immediately found a large unopened pine cone, and the first of todays challenges with JB was set. Could he possibly find a cone bigger than Ralph’s?

Just before a track junction we came across a small pool on our left, which officials marks the source of the River Brue. (Further information can be found on the photo extract below). To keep open the option to cut short or extend our walk nearer to the end, our initial route today was take an anti-clockwise route starting on the lower track. I think there was some alarm when we started loosing a lot of height but we were soon at the lowest point of the walk, with the only option now to keep climbing.

As we stepped out at the front through the mix of deciduous and coniferous trees, we could hear John and Ralph following up at the rear discussing the ongoing challenge as they both scoured the ground for the illustrious big one. Unfortunately John was haven’t much luck and Ralph continued to bait him with his continued success. We followed the path around the lower edges of the wood, getting the occasional glimpse into the open fields beyond, where the mist was slowly lifting. As we rounded a corner the first climb came into sight. It was a slow and steady ascent and at the top we joined a main track and turned right.

As we closed in on the minor road and with the mist clearing a bit more, a large open field too Deryck’s eye and, with a line of now leafless trees forming a solid border he captured a very atmospheric photograph. The final stretch was a short uphill to the gate before the road and as we stood waiting for the two ‘tail end Charlie’s’, Ralph clearly thought that a race up to the top with John was his to win. I think he started a bit early and underestimated his opposition somewhat, but with a final lunge at the line John touched the gate first, by half a sticks length.

Dereyk took the opportunity to bring out his bag of lollies which was well received as always and it was John S’s turn to get the camera clicking. Ralph having carried his coat for the last mile or so, despite declining many offers to put in in Johns backpack, took the chance to pass it on to Grandad as he needed both hands to unwrap his lolly. From here we opted to take the road up the final hill rather than following the path opposite around a short loop. We had to step aside for a couple of cars before we reached a gap in the trees which led us through to the base of Alfs tower.

The top of the 160 foot high triangular tower was shrouded in mist and unfortunetly was closed to visitors today. The tower stands two miles north-west of Stourhead garden and was designed by Henry Flitcroft for Stourhead's second owner, Sir Henry Hoare II. It is named after King Alfred who raised his standard here in 878 and commemorates the accession of George III in 1760 and the end of the Seven Years' War. We posed in front of it for the full group photo and then continued our walk east along the approach avenue towards the coffee hut. We tried to persuade Ralph that the 30 pence he was carrying would be enough for drinks all round, but he was not so keen! However he did start another competitive hunt with John, this time for the biggest fallen leaf as we made our way along Top Warren, parallel to the road. When the path came to an end, we walked along the edge of the road until we came to the car park at the head of Six Wells Bottom, where we crossed onto a gated farm track.

A lady had just pulled up in her car and opened the gate, so we passed through easily and offered to close it behind her. She declined our offer as she had to pick up her ‘post’ which had been placed inside a very filthy cow stall on the side of the track, so we made our way northwards along it. Once she had loaded up her goods, we all stepped aside as she then drove past us as we made good progress towards the end of the lane. As we approached it, we could see her car parked down a side lane, however our path took us across the front of her property, the very picturesque Keepers Cottage, with its simple inscription above the door ‘HRH 1845’, and back into the woods once more. There was steep descent just around the corner down a grassy but stoney track which brought us back onto the well maintained forest track. From here, with time running tight, it was just a quick half mile back to the cars to complete todays walk of just over four miles in ten minutes short of two hours.

John finally admitted defeat to Ralph in all challenges, as we changed out of our boots and headed down the road to the infamous Old Red Lion, where thankfully Tom was back from his holiday and firmly ensconced behind the bar. I had preordered our breakfast so once the large coffee and tea pots (don’t forget to give it enough time to mash/brew next time Deryck) were delivered, our very large platefuls were soon on the table. Having seen the sizes Ralph, who was at you’d expect seated next to John, was relieved to be only having a sausage sandwich. As usual the volume and quality was first class and once we had ploughed our ways through it all, there was toast and marmalade to finish it all off nicely.

Without a doubt, still the best breakfast from the fifty or so cafes we visit each year!

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