I followed a path where the farmer had asserted the way through his crop fields of head-high yellow rape. There was a dike on the right and the map indicated a right turn over a footbridge. The path on the map went across the middle of an established crop field ploughed out to the edges. There was no path visible. I retreated and found another bridge fifty yards further on leading into a field enclosed by hedges. I retreated again to the next field which bordered a dual carriageway (my desired route was on its other side). I had a desperate battle with barbed wire, brambles and ditches eventually climbing onto the edge of the dual carriageway. This was safe with a wide grass verge, but I knew I shouldn't have been there. The map showed a track parallel with, and two hundred yards further up the dual carriageway, but it was barred by a six foot ditch full of brambles and nettles, and I was wearing shorts, but I had no option. I lowered myself into the torture chamber and as I sank into the bottom, disappearing I guess, from the sightline on the dual carriageway, I heard a police car siren and suspected somebody had reported me. I finally got back on route and at the pub in Rossett cleaned up my bleeding and scratched legs, and then walked on another four miles and booked into The Greyhound here in Farndon.
Our walk this Thursday was on quiet lanes south of Over Kellet.
|Well, would you really want to go there?|
Yesterday I had a quck blast to Easington Fell in the Trough of Bowland - the nearsst unclimbed Marilyn to home.