Just the three of us set off from behind The George in Cary on a grey morning with a simple plan in mind: walk briskly round a familiar route and breakfast heartily as a reward for being the stalwarts of the Walking Dead. Literally last men standing. Following the narrow public footpath leading towards Lodge Hill we passed through the newly refurbished gateway onto the grassy hillside encompassing the site of the original Cary Castle. The earthworks are still visible and the location dominating the town declares this to be a once formidable statement of command and control: we own your lives peasants! There is a rumour that someone wants to reinstate this castle with a “reconstruction” but how this could have any credibility escapes me….we would end up with something from Disneyworld at best.
Anyway, we forged up the hillside through two more restored gates and towards the top veered off to the left across an empty field which on previous occasions was occupied by a golden fleeced flock of sheep. This flat ground took us to the A371 which we crossed swiftly and joined Hell Ladder Lane in its descent towards the hamlet of Higher Hadspen. Through a gate we entered a pasture grazed by some young cows, all safely at the far end of the field. I was just describing to Trevor the character of the owner of a private nature reserve to our left when the man himself appeared and was briefly in conversation with us about his dogs. We crossed a final paddock and came out onto Limekiln Lane.
This is Higher Hadspen and the old stone houses make a pretty sight in summer sunshine. Just a few weeks ago this valley was deluged by a couple of hours of torrential rain and a fast flowing river took over the road and endangered the life of at least one elderly resident. The lane winds down towards the main junction with the road from Cary to Bruton and here there are a few houses and the Hadspen Village Hall. Unfortunately, waters also poured down off the hillside on Nettlecombe Lane and from the Lower Hadspen direction and the confluence was outside the rather attractive but low lying thatched cottage which was seriously flooded. The significant engineering some years ago to address previous floods had been overwhelmed and several properties and their occupants suffered. Walking past now there was little evidence of this devastation.
We turned towards Cole and Bruton for a hundred yards and then crossed the flattish field in the valley bottom to join the footpath through some woods at the bottom of Knapp Hollow. Our timing was good as this gave us some protection from the brief shower which fell at this point. Emerging from the trees we followed the taped off path up the Hollow where on a previous occasion poor Scrumpy had suffered a sharp electric shock. No problem this time. We reached the top of this field and found the four horses gathered there – one very handsome dark equine worthy of an advert for a High Street bank. Turning out onto Wyke Road, we toddled along until we reached the turning into Solomons Lane. We were not tempted to lose all our height and walk down onto the flat lands by the railway and river below.
Solomons Lane is an old stamping ground for Trevor as he reminisced about walking his greyhound here in hopeless pursuit of a squirrel who of course had the advantage of climbing an oak tree if a dog ever got too close. Passing some familiar Highland Cattle in the field to our right, we came out onto the road past Ansford School which brought forth an outpouring of frustration from Trevor about the challenges and disappointments of teaching. (Speak to Trevor,Phil, John, Brian or Deryck if you want to hear about this).
Crossing the main road we walked through the suburbs of Cary and admired the well-manicured lawns of the outdoor bowls club and the welcoming setting of the Donald Pither Cricket pavilion. Hurrah, breakfast was soon at hand and we went into the George for a hearty meal, served on piping hot plates and all food presented was delicious. Less than a tenner as well. One of our best!
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