Hiking Without Supervision

Weather Report: sunny, cool, with a chance of rain later in the day.

Yesterday started off great, we walked along the Kenner and Avon Canal for a little bit, sun was shining, lots of people out walking, running and chasing chickens, painting their boats, and the sun was shining. Pinkie toe was red but taped up and only hurt when I stopped walking.

I thought it was interesting that the canals all have a different vibe. This one felt lived in, people had moored boats all along the canal and actually lived in them. There was even a boat that would take you up and down the canal for a leisurely cruise.

We turned inland to start following the Limestone Link trail, which we were told is easier for a first day hiking the Cotswolds. It goes through the St. Catherine Valley (appropriate, no?) rather than up and down the B-hills. Our first stop was the George and Dragon to get some sustenance for the coming hike.

So off we go and start with a bastard hill of course. Over stiles, through gates, over fields, sheep, cows, beautiful houses, babbling brooks… all that lovely dookie you would expect in the Cotswolds.

But that’s about the time it all went tits up. First there was a field of cows I thought were going to eat us, but fortunately they were only interested in the grass. Then there was the mud, lots of it. Then there was the road. Then there was a trail angel called Pete with his pony and daughter.

The mud stopped us in our tracks, literally. Murray was up to the top of his boots with it. We tried to go around it all but no way back to the path because of the bushes. So we navigated the barbed wire fence and took our hike to the road thinking it would be easier than mud. It would have been except for the fucking-bastard-hills. I’m telling you, there are mountains in Colorado that are 14,000 feet or more that are easier than these fn hills. We crawled along for at least 5 miles doing the best we could. Stopped for breather to take our bearings when a very nice man stopped to chat, find out where we were going etc.

He helped us navigate to a shortcut across a field that would get us to our goal for the day but also shared that there was no campsite nor facilities at all. We would be better going to the next town to find food and at least a pub. Off we went.

The rain started, we were cold, hungry, and very tired. My toe had fallen off about 4 miles ago. Then this truck stops and a lovely voice asks if we would like a lift. Trail Angel Pete had come to get us and take us to the next village where he dropped us off at The Lord Nelson in Marshfield, where the rain was beating a new version of dreary.

Saved for the day, but now realize we need a new plan (version 68?).