A New Adventure
Having completed The Ridgeway National Trail about a month ago, it was time for a new adventure. The chalk from The Ridgeway had barely been brush off my boots when my walking partner, Michala, dropped a big hint through my letter box - a walker’s guide to the Thames Path - and so, a new plan was hatched.
Preparations
A date was set for Saturday 8th October. During a week of changeable weather, I did not dare check the forecast until the night before and we were in luck. No risk of rain, so no need to pack waterproofs but the temperatures might feel low particularly when walking alongside water so layers were essential, including a light weight windproof jacket. Boots were waxed up and looking smart. Walking gear laid out and ready for the morning.
I checked all camera batteries were fully charged. Memory cards were blank and ready. Lenses were clean and a decision made as to which lens to bring based on what sort of images I was hoping to achieve. (For The Ridgeway I mainly used a 70-200mm lens but this time decided to return to my much neglected 16-34mm wide angle lens).
I also needed fuel. I knew Michala would bring our traditional shortbread for that extra bit of sugar to push us along the way. My camera bag does not allow much room for anything beyond my photography gear so a wrap is always a good option for me because it does not matter if it is a bit squished. I filled a wholemeal wrapped with flame grilled chicken, avocado, rocket, sweet pepper, cherry tomatoes and a drizzle of sweet chilli sauce packaged neatly into reusable waxed food wrap. A water bottle and a crunchy apple fitted nicely into the side pockets and this time round, I baked some cookie cups (https://www.waitrose.com/ecom/recipe/choc-chip-cookie-cups) which we could have during the walk or at the very end with a cup of tea. I decided to bring a flask of hot water and some teabags so I could brew a hot drink before the long drive home. These could be left in the car.
Finally I packed the trusty guide book, despite believing that we were unlikely to go astray when we would have a river to keep us on track. (This was a good move).
Getting There
Once again, we were going in two cars. I had used Google Street View to locate suitable parking places. Our first day’s walk would finish at Cricklade so I located a large, free car park at Stockham Close in Cricklade by the rugby pitches just off the A419. It was close to the Thames Path and easy access to drive on to our start point for the Thames Head. We parked at the Thames Head Inn where once again, there was a good sized car park.
And so we began.
First off, we had to make our way to Trewsbuy Mead. To start, we marched a short distance from the inn, down a busy, fast road. It was with relief that we turned left off the road, just before the railway bridge.
Within minutes, the busy road forgotten, we found ourselves walking along leaf strewn paths in dappled light with autumn’s early golden hues.
We chattered excitedly about our venture and caught up with news of what had been happening in our busy lives since we had last met. We were not the only ones chattering. We were amazed at the volume of bird song all along our walk, even in the afternoon when I would have expected the birds to be roosting.
Michala interrupted my twittering and said ‘stop, look, listen!’ as we arrived at a railway crossing and I nearly gave her heart failure as I stopped mid track to look for a good photographic view of the currently empty tracks. Unscathed, we continued.
The Thames Source
A short distance across some fields and we were there, at the official start of this new adventure. A true testament that great things start from small beginnings. Without
the engraved stone you would not realise that something amazing was under our feet.
We were standing in Trewsbury Mead which, in itself, is a beautiful name. A mead meaning a meadow in old English. (However, if you Google it you are more likely going to find references to a fermented solution of honey and spices which, for me, conjours up memories of a Tutor banquet I took part in for a work event in the 1980s when the ladies in my party sipped mead whilst the men drank a yard of ale). There was something idyllic about this rural spot far removed from a noisy banquet as the sun warmed our faces.
So our journey began, from source to sea. Starting in Gloucestershire, the Thames weaves its way through 9 counties. It was incredible to think that we were going to follow her on her journey. However, we had to find her first.
In Search of Water
We were not expecting to find her at Trewsbury Mead but we had hoped to find her at Lyd Well. Michala had brought a couple of cups to enable us to sample the fresh water of the Thames, better than any mead, to get us going. However, that was not to be. Lyd Well appeared totally dry as we peered at it over the fence. I chose not to risk climbing over for a closer look as the fence was not at all stable. We had so wanted to mark the occasion. Perhaps we should have tried to get our hands on some mead instead.
The well was dry and so too was the stream for the first few miles of our walk. However, that did not detract from the beauty of our surroundings. We could not have hoped for a better day, with blue skies and sunshine all the way as we behaved like a pair of divining rods in search of water.
We were glad of our guide book after all, as there was no visible river to show us our way. At one point Michala commented that she was never so glad to see an acorn. I thought she was still talking about the red squirrels she had been searching for on the Isle of Arran recently, so I launched into telling her about the fact that last year’s oaks had produced no acorns as it was following on from a ‘mast’ year but I stopped full sentence when I realised she was referring to the National Trail markers - the acorn signs pointing out our route. At least someone was paying attention.
We wend our way along wooded paths and fields to the pretty village of Ewen where the rich crimson of a Virginia creeper stood out lavishly against pale brickwork.
Leaving behind the village we followed paths alongside the golden river bed under willows, ash and poplars until at last, with great excitement, we saw the first hint of water. A mere puddle.
This was a momentous point of our walk so we opened up the 'What Three Words’ App expecting to find some significantly aquatic words to mark the place. However, for me it produced ‘hiked.leans.damage’ so at least the app acknowledged the fact that we were hiking. Moving a few paces and instead it produced ‘weary.multiple.refrained’ but fortunately I was not weary at that point but since Michala had run the London Marathon six days earlier perhaps she was.
The First Hint of Water
We peered through the hedge at the puddle. We had walked over 3 miles from the source
before we found any suggestion of a river and in fact it was not until we had covered a further 2 miles before there was any significant amount of water. The more substantial the water, the more excited we became, after all it had been like turning up for a party with no host. The fact that the river had now shown up, it seemed appropriate to stop and celebrate.
At Ashton Keynes we found a bench in Church Lane, overlooking a channel of water. It would have been rude not to take the opportunity to sit down and nibble on another finger of shortbread whilst taking in the view.
As we sat in the sun a local sheep farmer told us of a Canadian couple he encountered. They had planned to canoe from the source to the sea only to find that they had to carry their canoes all the way to Lechlade before they could put their canoes in the river. A little bit of research might not have gone amiss. As he headed off looking for his sheep (so he said) Michala and I discussed the idea of moving to this tranquil corner of Wiltshire, but noted that there were no ‘for sale’ signs. On that basis we could only assume that once people move here they never want to leave and who can blame them.
Along the way we passed through a number of fields with livestock. Despite his impressive build this horse was far from intimidating. He did not even neigh but not much later we crossed over Neigh Bridge where Michala admired the stream that would surely soon show its strength.
We did however find large bodies of water with the vast network of reservoirs that make up the Cotswold Water Park, from tranquil lakes where swans preened to a noisier lake where a speedboat sent ripples across the water as it pulled a couple along in a rubber donut, a heron taking flight at their shrieks.
Our Way Blocked
The afternoon progressed and the light turned a honey gold as we walked under willows, our calm momentarily disrupted when we found our path blocked by a herd of cows. They were not aggressive but they did have their young among them so we were careful to ensure they did not feel threatened.
It was unusual to see that these calves had not been separated from their mothers, as seems to be the norm. However we were more concerned that the herd blocked the narrow gap in the hedge where we needed to go. We found another gap in the hedge but on climbing the bank we discovered even more cows in the deep shadows of the the sunken path. We retreated back into the field and waited. We contemplated finding an alternative route. However while we debated, the cows had ambled on through and cleared the way with the exception of one rather disgruntled calf who had his feed interrupted when we waited to go through the gate.
Having, as a child, spent a number of Easter holidays on my Aunty’s dairy farm, I was unperturbed by the situation whereas Michala had an anxious moment. Ironically in the next field we found horses so it was my turn to feel momentarily worried whilst Michala, having had horses in the past, felt comfortable. However they did not confront us. They were far too busy browsing as the sun began to sink.
We were weary but pressed on, aware that the day was near its end and we did not want to find ourselves walking at dusk.
The End in Sight
We continued through the North Meadows Nature Reserve at last feeling the presence of a large stream if not yet a mighty river.
Suddenly we found ourselves in Cricklade, spotting the telltale rugby posts, we turned off the path to our car park and our first walk along the Thames Path National Trail was over.
We had completed 12.25 miles of the 185.2 mile trail, exhausted but exhilarated in equal measure. However, the splendour of our day was not quite over as we drove to Kemble and the Thames Head to pick up my car whilst watching shades of pink, orange and red spread across the sky to produce a beautiful finale to a wonderful day.
Read about our second leg of the Thames Path from Cricklade to Lechlade https://gladysperrier.wixsite.com/perrierpictures/post/the-thames-path-national-trail-day-2