Walk For James

Monday 4 March 2013

Leg 3: Leigh Woods and the M5 Bridge

It was a cold and damp Sunday for our next leg of the Walk For James with mud ever-present, as has become the norm on our excursions! I was accompanied by Dr Nall (navigator), Mr T and of course Brock the dog. I've temporarily given up on the blue wig as Brock in a t-shirt is clearly enough of a spectacle for passers-by to take an interest in us.

Snow drops greeted us at Abbot's Leigh before our steep descent through Leigh Woods to The Grotto via some fun with a found coconut shell and a sneaky look at Leigh Court through the hedge.

At the bottom of The Grotto, Brock launched himself off a wall into a muddy Avon tributary but thankfully returned to heel before becoming fully submerged. His hospice t-shirt will never be white again I fear...

Joining the Bristol to Pill cycle path we quickly came across a light tower which gave Mr T a chance to survey the vast expanse of mud that is the Avon Gorge at low tide. Had it been high tide, there wouldn't have been much of a path left thanks to all the recent rain. Luckily the low water gave Brock plenty more chances to look for enormous sticks. He was particularly taken by an abandoned boat left high and dry on the grassy bank.

Passing the inlet with more boats firmly stuck in the mud, we turned inland towards Pill past a fishing lake and an enclosure of very inquisitive chickens and ducks. Brock managed to keep just far enough away from the fence not to get a peck on the nose.

Our tea stop (with rock cakes lovingly provided by Mrs Gardner) was in full view of a Saturday afternoon football match so Brock remained firmly on the lead lest he interfered with the serious game at hand. The purple team were winning.

Down into the old harbour at Pill next. It's hard to believe with so much mud around that these boats ever get to sail atall, but then the Avon Gorge has one of the highest tidal shifts in the world which makes for an extraordinarily variable landscape.

After passing a large amount of abandoned delivery trolleys and other random items in the mud, we turned inland again to make our way up the ramp and onto the M5 motorway bridge.

The noise of the traffic was quite overwhelming so we had to resort to shouted conversations and lots of pointing. As we approached the middle of the bridge we could feel the vibrating force of the traffic underfoot and see the true width of the Avon spreading out far below us. We got friendly waves from truck drivers who could see us above the protective fencing and after some well-needed chocolate and a pause for a group photo, we started the long descent down the other side.

Shirehampton was where this leg ended - our longest yet at 10km and we were gratefully collected in our favourite blue campervan by a very accommodating Mrs T.

And here's where we walked: http://gb.mapometer.com/walking/route_2761490.html

Monday 14 January 2013

Why We're Doing This

My friends and I are embarking on a circumnavigation of the outskirts of Bristol to raise money for St Peter's Hospice. The hospice cared for my husband James in the two weeks before he died in March 2012 from bowel cancer, aged just 33.

The care and support the hospice provided not just for James and I but for our families and friends too was very special indeed. We're determined to do everything we can to raise money and awareness about this essential service for Bristol and the surrounding areas.

St Peter's Hospice is Bristol's only adult hospice caring for local people with incurable illnesses. The Hospice costs over £6.5million per year to run yet the NHS contributes just 25% of this. All care is provided free of charge so fundraising is vital to ensure that this can continue into the future.

Our charity walks will take place thoughout 2013 and two or more of our (ever-expanding) team will complete each leg.

Since March 2012 over £17,000 has been raised for St Peter's through events organised by James' family, friends and colleagues and we want to increase that as much as possible in 2013.

James was a keen hiker so he certainly would have approved of our chosen challenge.

I hope you enjoy our blog posts. You can sponsor us at any time: www.justgiving.com/walkforjames

We're looking forward to the adventures ahead!

Sunday 13 January 2013

Leg 2: Ashton to Abbots Leigh

It is a curious thing that the attention of those we passed should be drawn not to the fine figure of Miss Sarah sporting a rather arresting blue wig, but to the outfit of our four legged friend.

At just past noon, we found ourselves descended into a very steep valley, our passage stretching toward Long Ashton and the estate beyond. I confess this side of the country was much pleasanter, due in part to the more clement weather and the pleasing array of snacks we had packed for the day.

Having filled ourselves with hot sweet tea and nutty biscuits we travelled across country to arrive at Ashton Court Estate, mercifully without encountering any wildlife or farm stock that threatened to murder and devour us for I had not the least inclination to revisit the horror of the horse crossing encountered earlier on our journey.

On arriving at the lodge, we found ourselves in the midst of many walkers; marching lustily forth with infants in tow and dogs at heel. Miss Sarah had the notion to carry the money box alongside us so as to communicate to passers-by that we were open to donations, not only increasing awareness of the cause we so heartily support.

Curiously, we began to notice that a great many of the folk passing us by were moved to comment on Brock; admiring the manner in which he was dressed and complimenting the way in which he had added a certain ‘grubby panache’ to the hitherto white garment he had been compelled to wear.

At one particular point in the day, while we rested for a short moment at the Court Café, I shamelessly seized upon the obvious opportunity that such admiration bestows and began a discussion with two splendid folk who had been drawn to marvel at Brock. On learning about our cause, they proceeded to place several pounds in the box and wished us well with the remainder of our journey, thus proving that it pays to have a furry, if not entirely elegant, companion at your side when attempting to attract attention and seek conversation with persons who would not ordinarily be moved to speak with you!

And here's our route: http://gb.mapometer.com/walking/route_2650853.html

Leg 1: The Peart

Ours was mud country, down below Dundry on our inaugural walk for Mister James on 3rd January. Despite the arresting air, the unpleasant pea-souper and less than agreeable walking conditions underfoot, we struck out across the fields in good spirits; determined to relish what we were to do, and stick to it, and make the best of it! We talked a good deal as we walked, our four legged companion Brock bounding lustily forth in a misguided attempt to flush any hardy winter creatures that might be present.

Continuing our perambulations, it wasn't long before we encountered our first considerable obstruction. Up until this point, Miss Sarah and I had been making ground with slapping dexterity; the drowned land beneath our boots being our primary adversary and one that we were heartily managing to surmount.

It was following the successful negotiation of a particularly poached field that required each of us to hop a fence and pick our way cautiously along the hedgerow avoiding the marks of dispassionate brambles, that I spied the obstacles we would face on our next leg of the journey. My blood ran cold within me for before us were at least seven burly horses of exceedingly dark complexion, each sporting countenances expressive of extreme malignity and standing doggedly in our path as if to block our passage spitefully and with frightful intent.

Dear me, I was not best pleased. This was a most disagreeable situation and I knew not what to make of it. But I felt a gentle pressure on my hand and Miss Sarah, sweet and compassionate soul that she is, led me forward, her very presence serving to reassure me that we could accomplish this; that it was a fine opportunity to confront the terrors that had hitherto hounded me through the countryside.

Uneasy, we made our way across a little river and together negotiated a particularly disagreeable slope that led into the pastures where my nemesis lay. At one point, Miss Sarah became trapped by the immovable mud and in that passing moment I was able to repay some of her earlier kindness by lending a supportive hand. I had been afraid until then, but as I we laboured forward together I felt able to adopt a haggard look of bravery. “Stay close to the edge of the field”, Miss Sarah whispered and with these words she released me. Terrified, I am sorry to say that I immediately abandoned that gentle and benevolent soul to her fate, racing forth with no thought but to save my own skin and be rid of the thumping in my wretched heart.

Moments later, and without the great beasts having so much as nosed in our direction, we emerged approximately five hundred metres below ‘The Peart’; a less than impressive hilly mound that was however deserving of that name owing to the small protuberance erupting from its summit. Congratulating ourselves on surviving, we strode forth along the community, and dubiously named ‘forest’ path, in pursuit of our finish at Hanging Hill Wood; a peaceful little valley through which runs Colliter’s Brook and where Brock, unperturbed throughout this entire venture, then spent a good portion of time gambolling freely with the bough of a tree in his jaws!

Here's our route: http://gb.mapometer.com/walking/route_2654947.html