Training Walk: 18-and-a-half miles around the Gower, again
"Only eighteen miles?" I hear you cry, "that's not very far compared with your last two walks!"
Fear not, I have not suddenly become sensible or moderate. I just thought that perhaps I should walk long distances on two or more consecutive days at least once before I leave (3 weeks from today) and perhaps it was not wise to make each of those days 24-milers. So instead today was 18.49 and tomorrow will be a very moderate 19.87. I'm sure you'll agree that's much more sensible.
I've now walked over 150 miles in training, which is more than 10% of the distance from Land's End to John O'Groats (by my route), so that's exciting.
Today was a gloriously sunny day, which explains why I have a headache and a slowly-developing sunburn (despite the suncream I so carefully applied before leaving). It also explains why there were quite so many other people out - a large number of whom lacked the basic good manners to say 'hello' back as we passed. However, I did meet and have a lovely chat with a guy called Paul, who comes from Merthyr (where I think both friendliness and walking are in the water), and who joined a long list of people to congratulate me on my walk before I've even started. We swapped a couple of walking-in-bad-weather horror stories, agreed that actually walking is quite fun really, and headed on in our opposite directions.
A lot of the walk today was very, very familiar. I've walked the coast path from Penmaen to Horton three times now, and it is much improved by a few days of dry, sunny weather. I walked a new path between Horton and Burry, where the maintenance of the stiles and the overgrowth of sharp and thorny things suggested I may be the first person to walk it in some time, and then walked a familiar route back from there to Cefn Bryn and back along the crest, because it's not a walk in the Gower if you don't walk along or over Cefn Bryn at some point.
Two things rather spoilt today for me, other than the headache and the sunburn and an odd twinge in my calf and something-or-other that got stuck in my sock and has bitten or scratched my ankle, which is currently doing a good demonstration of what an allergic reaction looks like: animals, and my own stupid self.
Animals, first. An empty field is preferable to a field with animals in it. Sheep, however, present very little difficulty as they are genuinely mind-bogglingly stupid and will start to run away from you as soon as they see you - even if you are the opposite side of a barbed wire fence and have no intention of crossing it. It's about the only bit of sheep behaviour that isn't an expression of their sole ambition in life, namely to die prematurely. So, really, the problem is big animals. A field with big animals in it causes trepidation. This is more pronounced if they are big animals who bite or kick. This is even more pronounced if they are big animals who bite and kick and who show an interest in you. So imagine my joy when this new path I decided to follow today led me straight to a gate into a muddy, treacherous field (not suited for running across) inhabited by three horses who immediately came over to say hello and generally investigate. Now, normally I am a fan of horses: I adore the Welsh ponies, but they are both quite small and quite used to people and so are totally uninterested in you. However, having to walk into a field inhabited by three horses you've never met before with no idea how they're going to react, when said animals are determinedly standing right by the gate you're about to pass through and completely blocking any way through the field, and with no idea where the next gate actually is slightly terrified me. The only reason I did was because the adjacent field held five horses, which was definitely worse. Of course, it was absolutely fine and I didn't get bitten or kicked or trampled or stuck in the mud but if any of those things had happened I suspect it would probably be felt to be my own fault.
Which leads us neatly onto my stupid self. When planning this route, I decided 17.5 miles wasn't far enough, so plotted a little loop around "Arthur's Stone" on Cefn Bryn to add on some distance and also investigate the thing. Of course, rather than just following the bridlepaths, I thought I'd follow a little black dashed line, which was a fair enough decision sitting in front of my computer with a cup of tea. However that little black dashed line, which was meant to be a path, was unidentifiable on the ground and instead of doing what I told myself I'd do and giving it up as a bad job I decided to push on, which landed me up jumping tussock to tussock across a bog that was definitely marked as "rough grassland" and not bog on the map, and the reward at the end of it was a stone that was just a stone, albeit quite a large one, with people sitting on it already so I couldn't. I wasn't pleased with PastLouise at this point, especially as she also packed a lunch that tasted of the overwhelming apathy with which it was purchased and prepared.
Boot cost per mile: £1.16
Lunch: disappointing
Pack weight: 7.9kg when I set off
Fear not, I have not suddenly become sensible or moderate. I just thought that perhaps I should walk long distances on two or more consecutive days at least once before I leave (3 weeks from today) and perhaps it was not wise to make each of those days 24-milers. So instead today was 18.49 and tomorrow will be a very moderate 19.87. I'm sure you'll agree that's much more sensible.
I've now walked over 150 miles in training, which is more than 10% of the distance from Land's End to John O'Groats (by my route), so that's exciting.
Today was a gloriously sunny day, which explains why I have a headache and a slowly-developing sunburn (despite the suncream I so carefully applied before leaving). It also explains why there were quite so many other people out - a large number of whom lacked the basic good manners to say 'hello' back as we passed. However, I did meet and have a lovely chat with a guy called Paul, who comes from Merthyr (where I think both friendliness and walking are in the water), and who joined a long list of people to congratulate me on my walk before I've even started. We swapped a couple of walking-in-bad-weather horror stories, agreed that actually walking is quite fun really, and headed on in our opposite directions.
A lot of the walk today was very, very familiar. I've walked the coast path from Penmaen to Horton three times now, and it is much improved by a few days of dry, sunny weather. I walked a new path between Horton and Burry, where the maintenance of the stiles and the overgrowth of sharp and thorny things suggested I may be the first person to walk it in some time, and then walked a familiar route back from there to Cefn Bryn and back along the crest, because it's not a walk in the Gower if you don't walk along or over Cefn Bryn at some point.
Two things rather spoilt today for me, other than the headache and the sunburn and an odd twinge in my calf and something-or-other that got stuck in my sock and has bitten or scratched my ankle, which is currently doing a good demonstration of what an allergic reaction looks like: animals, and my own stupid self.
Animals, first. An empty field is preferable to a field with animals in it. Sheep, however, present very little difficulty as they are genuinely mind-bogglingly stupid and will start to run away from you as soon as they see you - even if you are the opposite side of a barbed wire fence and have no intention of crossing it. It's about the only bit of sheep behaviour that isn't an expression of their sole ambition in life, namely to die prematurely. So, really, the problem is big animals. A field with big animals in it causes trepidation. This is more pronounced if they are big animals who bite or kick. This is even more pronounced if they are big animals who bite and kick and who show an interest in you. So imagine my joy when this new path I decided to follow today led me straight to a gate into a muddy, treacherous field (not suited for running across) inhabited by three horses who immediately came over to say hello and generally investigate. Now, normally I am a fan of horses: I adore the Welsh ponies, but they are both quite small and quite used to people and so are totally uninterested in you. However, having to walk into a field inhabited by three horses you've never met before with no idea how they're going to react, when said animals are determinedly standing right by the gate you're about to pass through and completely blocking any way through the field, and with no idea where the next gate actually is slightly terrified me. The only reason I did was because the adjacent field held five horses, which was definitely worse. Of course, it was absolutely fine and I didn't get bitten or kicked or trampled or stuck in the mud but if any of those things had happened I suspect it would probably be felt to be my own fault.
Which leads us neatly onto my stupid self. When planning this route, I decided 17.5 miles wasn't far enough, so plotted a little loop around "Arthur's Stone" on Cefn Bryn to add on some distance and also investigate the thing. Of course, rather than just following the bridlepaths, I thought I'd follow a little black dashed line, which was a fair enough decision sitting in front of my computer with a cup of tea. However that little black dashed line, which was meant to be a path, was unidentifiable on the ground and instead of doing what I told myself I'd do and giving it up as a bad job I decided to push on, which landed me up jumping tussock to tussock across a bog that was definitely marked as "rough grassland" and not bog on the map, and the reward at the end of it was a stone that was just a stone, albeit quite a large one, with people sitting on it already so I couldn't. I wasn't pleased with PastLouise at this point, especially as she also packed a lunch that tasted of the overwhelming apathy with which it was purchased and prepared.
Boot cost per mile: £1.16
Lunch: disappointing
Pack weight: 7.9kg when I set off
Looking forward to tomorrow's walk.
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