Saturday 28th September’24. DH, RW, PCL, PC, DL, CH, PC, WC & Scrumpy
It was one of those lovely bright September mornings, with not a cloud in the sky and the cool northerly wind from the previous days long forgotten, as we headed to the northern fringes of our thirty minutes travelling rule. Todays RV was a small section of road which was previously on the A361 as it ran in in front of the roadside properties at Dean, near Cranmore, but is now a small lay-by created when the road was realigned and straightened some years ago. The four in Chris’s car were surprisingly first to arrive especially after been caught in traffic due to white line painting around the Natterjack to Evercreech road, and then stuck behind a large vehicle as we climbed the hill out of Shepton up to Doulting. However we didn’t have long to wait before the Clacko bus arrived having taken, in theory, a more direct route from Bruton, before getting delayed and slightly off track down the myriad of narrow lanes around Batcombe.
Phil had opted to boost their numbers today with a return visit of ‘van living’ Pete and also his cousin Wulfric, who had stopped off on his long cycle ride from his home on the Orkneys for a bit of family time and a job interview in Bristol. ( Phil’s brother has given all his children Anglo-Saxon names having an English father & German mother. Wulfric was an Anglo-Saxon nobleman in the 10th century). Whilst everyone was being introduced and getting boots on I passed around some of the remaining cakes following our successful and well attended coffee morning on Thursday. Once booted up and with only a couple of coats between us all, we headed along the only road of the small hamlet and turned right up a narrow lane to start a slow and steady climb up to Cranmore Tower.
The first section was up an old narrow access path onto the hillside which looked like it had recently been turned into a river with copious amounts of storm debris still visible. Flanked by trees it was cool out of the sun as we headed northwards but once out into an open field the warmth soon became apparent and the higher we climbed the better the view to the south became clearer. We took a regulation pause to ‘get our breath back’ and allow the group to come together again and used the time to simply take in the view. Alf’s tower could just be seen poking out of the trees but trying to identify points further down into South Somerset and Dorset was quite challenging.
Getting going again, and with Pete and Wulfric leading and showing the benefit of youth, we eventually made it to the top of the hill, a climb of around 90 metres in just the first kilometre of the walk. We entered the wooded area and as we pressed on the shape of the tower became clearer through the gaps in the trees. Pausing in an open area, this was the first visit to the tower for many and so the questions about its history, design and usage started flowing. Thankfully Pete was quickly onto his phone and narrating the text from the Wikipedia page.
Located 280 m above sea level, at the highest point on the Mendip Hills in Somerset, the 150-year-old stone folly stands some forty-five meters tall. From the top viewing balconies, some 320 m above sea level, spectacular panoramic views over Somerset and neighbouring counties can be seen.
There is also a bit of information about the tower on its own website here, although it looks like the site is not currently maintained and updated. http://cranmoretower.co.uk/?page_id=59
The tower looks like it is currently lived in and although tripadvisor references a cafe operating from it in the last 10 years, there were no signs, visual or physical, of there being any such service operating today. It was hard to get a good photo today with the sun directly behind it but with the magic of phone camera these days we did manage a couple of decent ones between us. We continued along the track still heading north and entered an old section of mature English woodland, with trees growing out of the earthbanks running along the perimeter. There was even talk about the similarities to the great forest of Sherwood at one point as we started to loose height as we came off the ridge line.
At just about the same time, purely by coincidence we came across a sign indicating that maybe 21st Century Robin Hood (no not the latest Prime Minster this time) was indeed operating in the woods today. Scrumpy was already on her lead for fear of chasing squirrels or deer but this certainly tightened Richards grip on her lead. As we headed on down onto a wider track we were faced with one of the archers heading our direction, with bow in his hand and a quiver of arrows on his back. With a bit more drab green clothing it looked like he could have travelled all the way from Loxley, were it not for his bright orange wellies! Another pair were at their car as we approached the road getting ready for the morning fun, but just like our earlier archer, were none too keen to engage it a bit of early morning chat. We arrived at the Old Wells Road, an old trading route which runs across the top of the Mendip hills between Wells and Frome.
We crossed the road and passing by an almost identical Ford Transit van as Pete’s, we took a path to the left and followed it through fields and parallel to the road for the next 250 meters. Although the trees were a bit to tall to offer a great view, in the gaps we could just make out the villages in the heart of quarry country and the church tower in Stoke St Michael as we stopped for this weeks supply of lollies, (less for the fussy one who made his feeling known about the lack of choice this week). We then had to drop down and cross a small stream, but unable to see an official crossing point, we helped each other through a barbed wire fence to get on to the right-of-way of way leading around the very edge of Moons Hill quarry. It was hard going in the taller grass and weeds but thankfully only a bit further along we found a fire bar gate than was climbable and enabled us to cross the Old Wells Road again for our return leg back down the hill.
Dereyk was first to tackle the stile into our next field and bashed away at the many nettles and brambles blocking the crossing point. It was only when he was over that he spotted a large gate just a bit further up the hedgerow that being unlocked, most others were able to simply walk through. Passing by the side of a hilltop closed reservoir, with CCTV on the top of poles (well you have to protect the aqua infrastructure these days), we passed through a field of not too inquisitive cows as we dropped down to join the East Mendip way for a short stretch along the oddly named Funtle Lane, strangely enough which leads to Funtle House. At the house we turned right into another tree lined path which lead us right down off of the hillside to Dean Bottom for our last section along the valley bottom back into Dean.
At the very end of the path, we previously rejoined the road by a gateway, but this time we followed a permissive route alongside a garden and by the edge of the small stream. As we reached the gateway to the property first the head of a large Alsatian appeared and then the owner of the land who thanked us for using the path and explained the grief he had recently had from the owners of the fields and horses up that Dean Farm. It was an ideal location for this weeks Groupie before we got back to the cars in perfect time. A shorter than average walk of just 3.2 miles but with over 130 metres of climb on a warm autumnal morning, leaving just enough energy left to drive up to Cranmore station for some breakfast in the East Somerset railway cafe. We were delighted to see Adrian’s car in the car park and once parked up we headed off to find him as he joined us all again for the first time in a good few weeks.
The first train of the day had headed off at 11.00 and so the cafe was almost empty as we put two tables together to stake our spot. Dereyk found Adrian still on the platform but once he knew we were there quickly joined us inside to place our orders. A bit of a limited choice this week so it was mainly the full English breakfast option, although Chris was somewhat more conservative opting for scrambled egg on toast, with a side order of toast and marmalade. There was some initial confusion when the food started to come out and the waitress shouted out order numbers, but once the digits painted on the wooden spoons had been spotted everyone received their correct orders. It was great to have Adrian back with us and full of his nonsense as usual. Hopefully it won’t be too long before he can rejoin us for the walk as well.
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