10th June 2023 RW, PC, AC, DL and Scrumpy
Rimpton is a very old parish mentioned in the Domesday Book of 1069 when there were some 75 residents…there were still only 211 at the census in 2011 and it is an example of the seemingly timeless Dorset village with a range of stone built properties, some thatched, featuring the Squire’s Manor House and the Parson’s Rectory. The beautiful old St Mary’s Church dates back to the 13th Century and is Grade 1 listed. The village lies on the course of the Mill Stream which in times gone by was known more attractively I think as the Honey Brook – a tributary of the River Yeo which makes its sluggish west country way down to join the Parrett and ultimately the Bristol Channel.
The morning was bright and dry but with a mugginess in the air which foreshadowed a sharp shower or even thunder later. This is not a great time of year for hay fever sufferers. We struck out eastwards along Church lane, soon leaving the village behind and reached a point on the map designated ‘Waterfall’ but there seemed no more than a gurgle as though maybe a culvert was controlling the stream. We crossed a wooden bridge marked by two memorials – I wonder why – and then into a small wooded area before a gate led out onto a very large field of gloriously flourishing barley. The footpath should have taken us diagonally across this field but it seemed positively criminal to crush this crop so we swung left and followed the field edge. Adrian in front of me was kicking up great clouds of grass pollen which had the effect of some kind of chemical warfare agent designed to disable rather than kill….I was soon sneezing, blubbing, snorting and streaming in reaction. Kindly, Adrian allowed me to overtake.
We were not the first to go round this crop and we followed a track which ended up in a corner of the field where Deryck courageously fought his way through the undergrowth to the stile buried in the hedge and so out onto a country lane which winds between Marston Magna and Sandford Orcas. We were back on track as our original route also came out on this lane further along. The lane makes a sharp right turn at Weathergrove Farm and we kept straight on up a bridle way making a gentle ascent past Hill View Farm on our way up Corton Ridge.
Behind us lay a wide open landscape forming the catchment area of the River Yeo. To our right lay Windmill Hill, but there was no sign of a windmill and not a breath of wind to stir the sails if there had been one. Maybe there will be one again soon to prove the wisdom of our forefathers. Pausing to glance around we caught sight of Sandford Orcas church among the trees, Cadbury Castle way in the distance to our North and ahead the great ridge of Corton Hill with its beacon at one end.
Underfoot the bridle way was made up of brashy stones and a number of fossils were spotted – drawing Adrian’s enthusiastic attention and he and Deryck insisted on digging out a section of an ammonite which Adrian lugged back the remaining three miles. They also spotted an interesting exposed strata in the bankside to the pathway.
The climb levelled off and we came across another wonderful crop waving gently in the breeze with a spectacular invasion of poppies – reminiscent of the Flanders fields so evocative of young lives lost in conflict. We could see across to Corton Denham church – scene of a notorious run-in with the local church worthies.
We now dropped down to Stafford’s Green Farm following the Macmillan Way briefly in the direction of Sandford Orcas. We had reconnected with Mill Stream and it would now be our guide on the gentle return leg through some venerable oak trees towards the main landmark of Rimpton…St Mary’s Church. By now Adrian had moved from telling me he was hungry to asking if we were nearly there yet and how much longer would we be….much more of this and I would have to play another Spice Girls CD as I used to suppress this sort of whinging from my girls on long car journeys.
Fair play to local parish councillors; the footpaths were well clear of undergrowth and stiles in reasonable nick so we had made good progress despite our detour for crops. Finished at just gone eleven we were all relieved to retreat from the sun towards a welcoming pub: the Queens Arms at Corton Denham. Sitting in the beer garden we spotted others drinking a refreshing glass of something and on enquiry this turned out to be homemade ginger beer. We ordered a couple of glasses and some bacon rolls and coffee. What they failed to mention was the designation fiery ginger beer which became clear when the drinks arrived. Rolls and coffee were sufficient refreshment on such a hot morning and we all agreed another gentle backwater of our local area had made a pleasant walking route.
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