Up and down the downs.
This morning’s mural on the way to the bus station, a lively fox.
It is an early start at the bus station, which becomes very familiar to me over the next few days.
I’m not looking forward to walking the old railway track out of Chiseldon alongside the noisy main road. But it turns out to be quite pleasant, much more pleasant than the middle of the day above the shooting range on Burderop Down, which left me reeling. How to ruin a good walk.
Halfway along is the site of Chiseldon Army training camp, established in WWI with its own rail station and hospital, at one time it boasted a cycle brigade. All has completely disappeared, demolished in the 60’s.
A mile or so of the old railway, heading to Marlborough, the NCR482, perfect for cyclists, then I start climbing onto the downs. A narrow track where I become distracted by red berries in the hedgerow. Autumn is definitely here, it was only 4 degrees this morning. There is already loud distant banging. A young couple pass me bound for Avebury in the day, I think back to those days when all was possible. I’m happy to stroll along at 10 miles a day now and have time to spot this bee on a cornflower.
Ahead is Burderop Down, a small section of the Marlborough Downs which stretch across Wiltshire.
A well-defined tumulus is best photographed from above.
But by now, the noise which I’d heard since early on becomes deafening. My ears are taking a battering. Seriously, I wish I had earplugs with me. Marked on the map as a ‘Shooting School’ I feel under attack, they seem so close. This isn’t just the sound of clay pigeon targets. There are some very loud, high-velocity weapons being used. Why do we need to teach people to fire weapons of war, isn’t Hungerford near here? It’s not the army down there. Here is a short video to give you some idea. The noise stayed with me for the rest of the day.
What do local people think of this? Apparently, they shoot every day. Walkers I meet are equally distressed by it, one couple fearing for their safety.
Moving on, but not away from the continuous noise, which stays with me the rest of the day, I climb to the top of the Down where the views become outstanding. I am attracted to a standing Sarsen stone. This one isn’t ancient but a memorial to two local poets, Alfred Williams and Richard Jefferies.
“Still to find and still to follow,
joy in every hill and hollow.
Company in solitude” Alfred Williams.
“It is eternity now.
I am in the midst of it.
It is about me in the sunshine” Richard Jefferies.
I sit on a bench in the car park for Barbury Castle to ponder the above quotes and eat my lunch, looking out northwards over Swindon and much more. There is a toposcope, but I don’t know the geography from up here.
A gate leads into the country park and a short walk to the earthworks of Banbury Castle. They are massive. An outer ditch and an inner rampart enclosing an area of several football pitches. I estimate 400 metres across. The trail goes through the middle, but I take to the ramparts for a scenic circular navigation. I wonder at the labour that went into its construction nearly 3000 years ago. These earthworks are all better appreciated from the air.
Dropping down, we now join The Ridgeway, possibly Europe’s oldest road. This is classified as a Byway, and hence used by motorbikes, all today driving slowly and considerately. It heads south along the ridge with ever opening views of the chalk downs.
Looking down at one’s feet, the track is made up of chalk and flinty rocks, I can’t resist picking a nice piece to take home.
Several beech copses stand out by the ridge. There are lots of dog walkers out from the high carparks. Dumping of litter is a problem because of the ease of access.
At the road, I notice a sign to the Hackpen White Horse down below and a board telling of the White Horse Trail, a ninety mile route linking – you’ve guessed it – white horses, eight of them. Now there’s an idea, I even have a whitish horse pose for me.
I walk down the steep lane to the main road at Broad Hinton, to catch the number 49 bus back to Swindon. Using buses sometimes means short divergences from the trail, but I have no choice in view of the lack of accommodation. I will have to walk back up here tomorrow morning.
Swindon is my home for the next few days. I need to find a supermarket to top up on supplies it’s not easy in the centre where major building work is in progress. Today is Saturday, and I think I’ll give the busy restaurants a miss for a night in.
The weather has been perfect and hopefully will last.
Tonight’s bus station mural.
