A little bit of wild camping in the Windrush Valley, Day 1

 It must have been back in 2014 when I started reading books about touring by bicycle. I have done several multi-day trips since then, staying in B and Bs, but I have always dreamed of cycling and camping. Over the last few years I have been collecting equipment, and this year finally bought a tent, and a camping quilt. I had some trial runs in the garden, trying to get the warmth and the comfort sorted out, and then when the forecast looked good last week, there really was no reason to put it off any longer!! It took me two days to plan where I was going and get everything together, fitting it in with  my usual household and wifely tasks. I seem to remember that Josie Dew, one of my cycling heros, when she was going off on one of her long trips, at the last minute thought she'd better wash the kitchen floor before leaving. I'm a bit like that....

I decided to head for the Windrush Valley, which I have cycled through before, and fancied revisiting, and it's not too far away. I was also partly inspired by a book I've been reading by Mollie Harris, who played the character of Martha Woodford in The Archers on Radio 4 years ago. I used to be a regular listener, as my parents were before me, but no longer am since I realized it was a bit of a vehicle for BBC propaganda. In fact I used to listen to Radio 4 all day long if I was at home, but not any more. Anyway, Mollie had worked her way from the source of the Windrush near Taddington in Gloucestershire , to where it flows into the Thames about 30 miles later, with delightful descriptions of her journey. 

From the book "Where the Windrush Flows", by Mollie Harris, illustrated by Gary Woodley

The forecast was for quite high temperatures on the first day, and some rain, possibly thunderstorms, on the second. I planned the route so that I could camp for two nights if I felt like it, or just one if I didn't! 

Day 1: Wednesday, 30th July, from home in south west Oxfordshire to Sherborn in Gloucestershire

ROUTE:  Stanford-in-the-Vale (of Pam Ayres' fame - she was born and bred there), Buckland, Bampton, Brize Norton (popular with plane spotters), Swinbrook, Widford, Burford, Upton, Little Barrington, Windrush, then Sherborn.

I did not use my Garmin this time. I have read lately about the huge number of satellites there are in the sky. Obviously a Garmin uses satellites, and although one person stopping using theirs might not make much difference, I think as a matter of principal that, having read what I have, I should not use it any more. I do miss it - it's incredibly useful in many ways, but we all managed without them once, and I, especially as one who loves maps, can manage without it again. And it's one less thing to think about, or take a charger for! If you want to read about satellites, try here - INTERNATIONAL DARK SKY ASSOCIATION vs. FCC AND SPACEX

So, I had my OS map, but I also like to have a list of the places I'm going through in front of me, so I made a route list. Then -  "What this bike needs - is somewhere to attach my route list...." Last year's fell off my bike after a few miles, never to be seen again, so as I would not be needing my sticking-out Garmin holder, I made this route list holder out of a sign that I had found at the roadside, and attached it to it - 

Husband's bike wheel hanging up above...

WEATHER: Hot!!

WEARING: Vest top, cotton shirt, old Craghopper trousers cut off below the knee, socks, Hi-Tec shoes. Rab windproof jacket, removed very soon.

COMMENTS:  I set off about 7.30, having eaten just some yogurt and a few nuts, and got to Bampton Garden Centre, about 13 miles away, just after 9. Here I had planned to have breakfast. It was already pretty hot by the time I got there. Their once small café is now much enlarged and more of a restaurant; breakfast was expensive compared to many places - £12.95, but I have to say it was very good. Coffee was not good in my opinion, and an absolute rip-off at £3.70!!! I couldn't manage the toast but wasn't going to leave it behind after paying all that so wrapped it up in napkins, along with the three packets of butter, and took it with me.

The route so far was familiar to me, and it wasn't until I had left Brize Norton a bit further on that I really felt as if I was "on holiday". Heading north-west out of Brize I was amazed to see a huge development of unbelievably ugly new houses on my left, opposite some much older ones. They looked as if they had just been plonked in a field. I couldn't believe this had been allowed, particularly in the Cotswolds. I wish I'd stopped to take a photo. I find I dislike most modern housing estates. It doesn't seem to matter what area of the country they are in, they all look the same. One thing I hate about them is the lack of front gardens, which to me give a welcoming look. They seem to be just places where people are home in the evening and at weekends, but no-one is in all day. 

I crossed over the A40, and then over a bridge for a brief look at the river Windrush at Swinbrook - so inviting! As in many other spots along my route, I couldn't get near enough to it to touch the cold water. A couple sat outside the pub opposite. I happen to know (I'll tell you how tomorrow) that this place gets very busy at the weekends.

I think the next stop, along the wonderfully quiet NCN Route 57, was the most delightful part of the day. I had planned this ride not to be too long, precisely so that I could do what I now did, and explore a turning off my route. (Note: I bought the camera secondhand in a charity shop and I have not got round to altering the date that was set on it!) Once again I crossed a bridge over the river -

The river at Widford

and then saw a sign across the road  to a footpath, which led to an amazing tiny church in the middle of a field. It is St Oswald's. I just had to go and have a look - 

I spent ages looking round inside and outside the church, and reading a little of its history - 

Imagine the number of feet that made those indentations!

Boxed in pews on both sides, and a crooked pulpit

It had been abandoned for a period and used for agricultural purposes, but had been restored and there are now services there. Mollie Harris wrote - 

"In the fourteenth century there was a small community of thirteen houses there, clinging close to the church. Was it the Black Death that struck this lovely place, leaving only the church, the mill and the manor and manor farm buildings, and a shepherd's cottage in a field, and the humps and the hillocks and the cold January wind whistling through the brown grasses?"

I pushed my bike further along the footpath across the field towards the river, and met a family I had spoken to earlier. One of their daughters called out to me - 

"We couldn't find the stream!" 

The father explained that they had got down to the river but couldn't get very close as it was muddy, and there was barbed wire across. I could see on the map that you should be able to get down to it, so I carried on and had a look. Where the family had looked was where cattle obviously go down to the water, and the barbed wire was to stop them going too far in presumably. I looked round and found a stile where, if you forced your way through overgrown trees you could get to the river, but it was deep straight from the bank and no good for dipping my hot feet in. After a call of nature in the same spot the cattle obviously used, and a text to Husband, I pushed my bike out of the field and cycled on.

Next stop was the big church at Burford, and I went looking for a tap to fill my bottles. I reckon that 75% of churches I have visited have an outside, or even an inside, tap, but I couldn't see one outside and there were so many people around that I didn't fancy going in to look for one. Burford has a very steep and very typically Cotswoldy high street, and was heaving with people, as it always is in the summer, and I couldn't wait to get out of it!  

This is the third trip over the last few years that I have made in very hot weather, and as before I found myself constantly trying to keep cool, and to find places to refill my water bottles. As well as drinking the water, I trickled it over myself to keep cool. On a later occasion, I would find myself laughing at this....more of that tomorrow! No tap further on at the church in Little Barrington either. I cycled on and sat in some shade where I had refreshments - Baby Bel cheeses. I didn't bring a lot of food with me, purely because I was quite heavily loaded and hadn't got room for it.  I did have nuts and sultanas, and a snack bar, but I should have got food at Burford but because it was so busy I didn't want to stop. I knew there was a shop/cafe at Sherborn, and had also been fairly sure that I'd find something in the hedgerows to forage - apples, early blackberries, plums, damsons - but I hadn't found anything. However, it was so hot that I didn't really get hungry. A young mother passed me several times, as she went up and down the road, pushing her baby boy,  perhaps trying - unsuccessfully! - to get him to go to sleep. He didn't mind staring back at me from his pushchair! I wonder what was going through his little head..."Who's that funny woman?" perhaps.

Incidentally, this is a part of the country where you can see miles and miles of dry stone walls, including this new one (with the river tantalisingly me just down below in estate grounds.) I am always amazed at how they are built -

I finally found somewhere to cool my feet, - oh what bliss! - a stream at Little Barrington -

Foot washing done for the day...

Mollie Harris wrote - 

"In the green hollow a small spring flows out of the hillside and eventually over a field and into the Windrush. It was in that hollow, during the war, I used to gather the watercress which grew in great abundance there."

It's still growing, though not in great abundance.

Once again I explored a tiny steep and narrow lane which went down to the river, and which joins the D'Arcy Dalton Way, to which I will add a link to a video by one of my two favourite You Tubers, Sandy Jack, aka Wiltshire Man, who lives not far from me in Swindon. The other one is Susanna Thornton, who tours on a Brompton, and who has inspired me so much.  They are both an absolute delight to watch!

Still on my quest for water, just over the river towards Great Barrington I asked at a pub - The Fox at Barrington - for some. They were very welcoming to this hot and sweaty cyclist (a contrast to another pub - more of that tomorrow) and filled both my bottles with iced water. 

And now to the village of  Windrush, a little further along the river. It was only after I'd been here a few minutes that I realized I'd stopped here in 2016, on my first ever bike tour. I was on my elderly Trek at the time, and here it is loaded up, outside the church - 

I remember eating lunch there, thinking that although I wasn't really hungry and didn't want what I was eating, I ought to be re-fuelling. I have learnt not to do that now. I eat when hungry. Old Lady Trek is still with me, as my faithful shopping bike. This time I was on my Koga, and here it is loaded up outside the church, near that same bench -

Here there was a tap just inside the church gate, and I loaded up with water, this time filling my two drinking bottles, a third bottle, and the Platypus 2 litre water container (hanging on the side of the bike) to which I can attach a Bottle Shower. The night before I had cut holes in the reinforced area at the top of the Platypus, so that I could hang it up, but had accidentally cut into the water container itself, meaning that it leaked.... However, clever Husband managed to stop the leak with duct tape (see the orange bits on the top of the bottle?) so I was still able to use it. 

I cycled on to the last of these beautiful honey coloured stone Cotswold villages, for my day, Sherborn, where I knew there was a shop, although I had already suspected it would be shut by the time I got there - about 4 o'clock - and it was. I have to admit I was quite tired by now; I had quite a heavy load, plus it had been very hot, and while the journey hadn't been overly hilly (or even all that long) the hills there had been were made worse by the heat and my load. Actually I don't think I did too badly considering these two things. The last hill, on the way up to where I knew there was a good chance of somewhere to camp was a killer though, and I just had to push and rest, push and rest...

As I said, I had hoped to forage some fruit on my journey, but hadn't found any all day long - no early blackberries, no plums, damsons or apples, so when I turned onto a bridlepath I was overjoyed to see an apple tree, and picked two. They were ripe as well! The tree was in the garden of two empty farm cottages, and I very nearly camped there as it looked so nice, but it was evident that work was being done on them and I didn't want to be discovered in the morning by workmen., though perhaps they wouldn't have objected to this not-in-the-first-flush-of-youth lady camping there. 

 

Would have been a good camping spot. 

I went on down the bridlepath, heading towards the river where Husband had suggested there might be a good spot to camp (he'd looked at google earth) but in the end I decided to stay in a field I came to. The grass had been cut, and cleared, so I didn't think any farmer was likely to appear. I was by a large oak tree and almost out of sight of the public paths that ran nearby. And now came the challenge of pitching the tent somewhere other than our garden! I actually did it fairly easily, but then realized that there were lots of ants right by the entrance, and decided I'd have to move it. The tent is free standing so I could just pick it up, take up the footprint and move that, then fasten down the tent again. By the time I'd done that  my bare legs had been badly bitten by the ants, and scratched by thistles. I had picked this spot partly because there were logs to sit on, but when I got out my Trangia Burner and made coffee, I couldn't sit down and relax as I had to keep moving around and stamping my feet to stop the ants crawling up my legs. With my coffee I had one of the apples, a snack bar and some nuts and raisins. The toast that I had saved from breakfast had gone rock hard and the butter rancid!!

Helm Compact 1 tent

Coffee making area

Washing area!

I mentioned at the beginning that I had bought a camping quilt. I hate being enclosed in a sleeping bag - I feel trapped - so a quilt seemed like the answer. This is it - Mountain Equipment Helium Quilt. I looked at loads of camping quilts, and watched You tube videos reviewing them. I actually sent off for an Alpkit one to start with, and when it came, it seemed just what I wanted, but I could feel something on my hands after handling it, so sent it back and got the ME one instead. However, the majority of camping quilts and sleeping bags are, of course, synthetic, and I find myself thinking -

"Why am I sleeping under something synthetic when I wouldn't dream of doing so in bed?"

Remember nylon sheets in the 1960s? I do, and they were awful! When my family and I went on holiday, and got to whatever B and B we were staying in, the first thing we did when we got in the bedroom was look to see whether the sheets were nylon or cotton. (And in the days when it was just me and my sister, I always bagged the bed by the window.)

Of course the reason for using synthetics is that they are lightweight. But I had to do something to improve matters, even if it meant carrying extra weight, so I made a cotton cover for the top 10" or so of the quilt (and carefully sewed, very lightly, tiny patches of cotton to the stitching on the quilt, with tiny poppers attached to them, to fasten it to) so at least my face would not have something synthetic next to it. I also made myself some nice big cotton pyjamas (from a duvet cover - the same material I used for the cover), the idea being that I'd be covered in cotton. When I practised at home I also encased my mat in an old cotton sleeping bag liner (and even tucked a wool blanket inside that - ! - which was a wonderful combination!) but unfortunately that would just have added too much weight to my load. I  took the pyjama bottoms with me but I wore a cotton shirt in bed, as that doubled up as daywear. Tell me I'm nuts if you like...

I have to confess to being very curious as to how people keep themselves clean when wild camping. Some of it is just common sense really, but it's helpful to know how other people go about it. This video was useful - Hygiene in the Field. And also Ray Jardine has some good ideas in his book Beyond Backpacking. Let's face it, cycling - especially in weather this hot - is a sweaty business, and I for one don't like to remain sweaty (at least not in certain areas!) when going to bed, even if that's only in a tent. And how do you do any necessary washing without being seen... ? Well, I managed it, very quickly, with the help of the bottle shower, which I didn't have strung up high as you can see, but nevertheless it did the job! For the record, I had about 4 litres of water when I arrived at my camp spot, for drinking and washing, which was just about enough.

And so to bed.....but before I settled down for the night in the tent I spoke to Husband on the phone; from my description he knew exactly where I was - in which field and by which tree!! 

Tomorrow - ever heard of a call of shame?

MILES: 29