My walk reports just seem to get longer and longer and, having written this, I hope it’s not too long for the forum. If you intend to read it all in one sitting, I’d suggest getting comfortable with a cool beer (or a nice hot cuppa char) first. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin…
After some truly dreadful weather in the last couple of months we are suddenly having a few days of that beautiful spring weather that makes the jokes the UK climate likes to play on us seem worthwhile. I was determined not to miss out on this and so I planned to do a few geo-caches a few miles inland from Newcastle. These are caches I’ve thought about for a while but that were in sufficiently exposed and remote locations that I was not prepared to tackle them until the weather was suitable.
The planned route was a circular walk of around six miles starting in Blanchland, a stunningly pretty village with a large parking area convenient for the first cache I planned to visit. Given the remoteness of the walk I made a point of preparing a plan with a map and contact details and left this with the hotel reception desk. It seemed a good idea to ensure someone knew where I was, particularly as I was not sure whether there would be any cell phone coverage on the moors.
I packed a few essentials (far too many) into my day pack. These included:
-> Cell phone,
-> Money,
-> A big torch (very bright with a long narrow beam – perfect for path finding in the dark, but only a fairly short burn time),
-> Two small LED torches that are fine for checking what I’m about to stand on and have 10 hour plus burn times, but very little range.
-> A fleece
-> A waterproof poncho
-> Camera and lightweight tripod
-> Map
-> Spare batteries for GPS
-> Water
-> Emergency calorie supply (2 bars of Barretts Nougat – I would have carried Kendal Mint Cake, but Sainsbury’s did not have any.)
-> Small first aid kit
I also had a change of clothing and some more bottled water that I left in the car in case I needed it when I got back. No rain was forecast, but I’ve still managed to get very wet in the past by falling into a stream or puddle and past experience has taught me that I can always find a new way of making things difficult for myself so being a little over prepared is not a bad idea.
Much of my chosen route is described (with lots more pictures) in this article.
I reached my chosen car park at 17:45. There were only two cars and a bus there and none of them looked to have moved for a considerable time. I changed into walking boots, grabbed my pack and GPS and set off. The first cache was only a couple of hundred yards from the car park and was in view of several houses so I was still dressed at that point. It was a quick find and once I’d signed the log I set off for the second cache. The route took me up a reasonably steep slope under the tree cover. There were shafts of sunlight pouring through the trees and rabbits and deer visible in all directions. I was less than 300 yards from the car, but it was obvious that no one had been that way for a while so the t-shirt went into my pack and the wrap was removed and carried in one hand, rolled into a baton. I knew the path went to another small hamlet so there was a possibility of meeting a dog walker coming down the path. The air temperature was around 22C (low 70s F) and with no wind under the trees it was near perfect for naked walking.
The second cache proved to be an even quicker find than the first and was quickly signed and replaced. It was several miles to the next cache so I had set a couple of waypoints into the GPS for the path junctions, as past experience of the moorland paths in this part of the world is that they are often difficult to see once you get out into the heathers. All too soon I was approaching Shildon, a hamlet of five or six houses and an old abandoned mine. I could hear someone being industrious and so decided that the wrap was required before walking through the hamlet. I exchanged friendly greetings with a woman working in her garden and continued on up the lane passing the ruined mine building.
In estate agent speak that qualifies as “Scope for sympathetic renovation; would suit DIY enthusiast”
I hoped to undress again as soon as I had rounded the next bend, but seeing another building ahead decided not to until I could be sure there was nobody there. As soon as it became apparent that the small barn was unoccupied (by man or beast) I stripped off and continued properly dressed, keeping an ear open for the (unlikely) sounds of anything coming up the track behind me.
A few minutes later I had to cover up again to pass Pennypie Farm. I did not see anyone here, but there were several cars parked outside and dogs barking so discretion seemed appropriate.
Here I left the metalled track and joined a small waymarked path across the moors onto Bulbeck Common. A high stone wall and a few trees meant I was soon out of sight from the buildings so the skirt was back in my hand allowing me to enjoy the gentle breeze ruffling all the small hairs on my body again. Glorious; I feel so sorry for anyone who has not experienced the simple joy of being genuinely in contact with nature like this.
The gradient had become gentler once I passed Shildon and was now almost flat with only a few more meters of height to gain to the top of the moor a mile or so away. Underfoot the terrain was now heathers with just a narrow gap indicating where the path ran, however there were way marking posts every few hundred yards so following the path was not difficult. Well, not difficult apart from the fact that a stream also followed the path; parts were very boggy after recent rains and there were a few sets of foot prints (some fairly fresh) going my way.
The horizons were really starting to open up as I moved away from the valley and as I was admiring the view I spotted a pickup truck with a couple of people stood in the back making its way slowly along a track a quarter of a mile to my right. I very much doubted that they could see how I was dressed, but covered up just in case, as game keepers for big shoots can get a little protective of their land and often wander over for a chat. In the event, the truck continued slowly on its’ way stopping every now and then for a moment, apparently filling the grouse feeders. There were a few sheep around roaming free on the moor. Judging by how well nourished the lambs looked there must be more for them to eat than I would have expected.
Once the truck was below the horizon again I was back to walking properly attired. The path reached a dry stone wall and I turned left along it following the obvious trail. However, after a few minutes it became obvious that I was on the wrong path so I backtracked until I found a stile with a clear way mark the other side and another post 600 yards beyond it, very close to the line my GPS was pointing me in.
As I climbed the stile I could see the pickup again, still about the same distance from me, but now heading away down the track I had recently left. There was no sign that I’d been seen, or that if I had that they cared, so I did not dress. Instead I got my camera and tripod out of my pack for a few photographs.
Pictures taken, I decided not to put the tripod away instead collapsing it and using it as a carry handle for the camera. That way the camera and GPS were not banging together and irritating me as I walked. I did, however, put my wrap into the mesh side pocket of my pack. I can reach this with the pack on my back and so could still put the wrap on fairly quickly although (obviously) it is not as accessible as carrying it. I was confident that meeting anyone without seeing them a fair distance off was very unlikely.
The path continued to climb slowly through a few boggy bits to the top of the moor. I stopped to get a picture of the wide open spaces that are so unusual to a resident of the crowded South Eastern corner of the country.
A few yards further on, I discovered a small shallow pool, maybe 100 yards by 20, which, given that I had worked up a good sweat on the climb, was very tempting. Dipping a finger in established that it was cold, very cold, but I still decided that a quick dip would close the pores and rinse the sweat off my skin. Once I was in (and over the initial shock) it actually felt pleasantly warm and I had a gentle swim for a few minutes before deciding that I ought to press on if I was to get back to the car before dark. This was when I realised that I had not put a travel towel in the pack. Oh well, my socks were already damp from some of the muddy bits of track so it did not really matter. I would not have bothered to towel the rest of me off anyway, preferring to air dry in such wonderful conditions.
No pictures of me swimming, I did grab one of the pool but by the time I thought about it I had put my boots back on and did not feel like removing them again for a swimming pic.
To be continued...
It's never too late to have a happy childhood.
...Continued from part 1
From the high point the path continues North-West to join the Carriers Way a (reputedly) well walked trail. I was concerned about this point as several cachers logs had reported missing this junction so I had set it as a waypoint in the GPS. In the event I don’t really know how others had missed it as it had a very clear way mark:
Given the apparent popularity of the Carriers Way and the beautiful weather I was suspicious that I might not be able to walk this section naked. However, there was not a soul in sight, although there was plenty of evidence of recent use of the track with a mixture of cycle, motorcycle and truck tyre trails and plenty of different foot prints. I decided not to dress.
The third cache of my planned route was close to a lunch hut for the shoot and I could see it a little over a mile from where I was. There was no sign of any people out and about so, keeping an eye on the bothy in case there were people inside, I followed the track gently down towards the cache site. I was enjoying the sound track of the walk; lark song, the regular calling of lapwings and frequent comical interruptions from startled grouse (I was not always sure who was more startled, them or me) when my cell phone rang and spoiled the mood. It was just the more expensive (and better looking) half of my marriage checking in for the day and it felt rather strange standing with a view over miles of empty countryside chatting to her thinking that she had probably guessed how I was dressed, but would not want to be told.
Call over, I put the phone away and was about to leave when I spotted a slow moving pick up (the same one?) heading along the track I was on. It was still over half a mile away, so I just sat and had a drink and one of my emergency calorie fixes and watched to see where it went. The truck continued almost to the bothy before turning left onto a track leading down into the valley to my west. Clearly it presented no problem to me and I finished my snack and continued. I had intended to stop at the hut to eat, but was glad to have stayed out in the evening sunshine instead.
The next cache was just before the hut. I was a little surprised by the sign on the fence; adders are fairly uncommon so a warning to beware of them was a surprise. Sadly I did not see any; I don’t think I’ve seen an adder for more than ten years now, so it would have been quite a treat.
The cache was hidden in a pile of old fence posts just past the gate. I was careful about looking; my usual luck would have been to pick up a log and spot the elusive adder underneath just as it made a couple of small holes in my hand.
I signed the log and left a travel bug in the cache before going over to the lunch hut to investigate.
As expected, the bothy was neither occupied nor locked. I think it would be fair to describe it as rather Spartan, however I’m sure it serves its’ purpose admirably for the shooting parties.
There was a map of the moors and the shoot drives on the wall which gives a small insight into how shoots are organised.
Time to change paths but, unusually, there were no way marks here so I guessed; wrongly. I reckon this little chap knew I was wrong, but did not know how to tell me.
I soon worked it out though and doubled back to go through the gate, passing another curious sheep as I did so.
The track here was much more obvious than it had been and although I was no longer on the Carriers Way it felt as though the chance of an encounter was rising, however there was no way I was going to dress yet and I left the wrap firmly in my pack as before.
There were some large puddles on this section of track and I decided to see if I could do any thing interesting with a reflection. The answer was apparently “No” but I thought I should inflict one of the pictures on you anyway 😀
After a while the path descended into a strip of woodland emerging the other side into a more intensively farmed area. There was a large flock of very noisy sheep in one pen and I approached cautiously in case the excitement was due to them being fed or disturbed by a farm worker. I could not see anyone around so continued past them still naked apart from boots and back pack.
A couple of hundred yards beyond the flock I could see the farm house at Newbiggin behind a high stone wall. I was tempted to go on naked, relying on the wall to screen me from the house, however when I got to the start of the lane it became obvious that there were more farm buildings along the track and that in all probability there would be folks around so, reluctantly, I got my t shirt and wrap out of my pack and dressed.
Once through the farm I was tempted to strip again, but the track was now tarmaced and I could hear a quad bike being drive somewhere off to my left so I stayed as I was, still glowing internally from the naked walk to this point. A moment or so later the quad bike came past with the rider cradling a lamb under one arm. It looked very cute, but a part of me wondered how compatible that was with the transport of animals act. Not that the lamb seemed worried; it was looking quite happy as it watched the world go by. A cheerful greeting from the driver as he passed, apparently unphased by a skirted male walking down the farms drive in the gathering gloom just after sunset.
The fourth and final cache of the walk was tucked into a small nature reserve in the village of Baybridge. This proved to be another quick find although it was in a very sorry state.
I returned to the lane, intending to find a path to the north of the road to return to the car park. In the event I found a permitted path that runs parallel to the road but down hill and behind a stone wall and I decided to use this instead for the last half mile back to Blanchland. The path is well surfaced and signed but showed little sign of being used, so I took the opportunity for a last few minutes of SN walking, eventually dressing just before reaching the village.
This was when I had my most inspired thought; I’d discovered there was hotel in the village. Hotels have bars; bars have beer… I could feel a plan taking shape. However the best laid plans and all that; the bar was closed for some repair work. Rats!!!
Oh well, back to the car, change out of my (soggy) boots and off home to eat. It was now 21:45, I’d been out walking or taking in the views for four hours and naked for three hours and eleven minutes of that time.
I’m still feeling the benefit of the walk today. One of my colleagues even commented that I was unusually mellow when told about an issue in production. Perhaps I should suggest an SN walk as a group team building exercise? Or maybe not.
Have fun,
Ian.
It's never too late to have a happy childhood.
Amazing report - great to be out again
Davie 8)
A wonderful description of what must have been a very memorable day. More, please!
Philip.
You asked for more...
Sadly, I was unable to get out for a walk on Wednesday; after Tuesdays walk I was hyped up and raring for it, but had some domestic chores to do which prevented a walk in the equally glorious weather last Wednesday. (One of the jobs was bottling a batch of (very) alcoholic ginger beer and then getting a batch of Belgian style Christmas beer into the fermenter, so it was not all bad.) However, the lack of a naked walk on Wednesday resulted in me making very firm plans to get out again on Thursday evening.
I decided to go for a few more caches on the moors near Bulbeck Common and was hoping for another walk as enjoyable as Tuesdays. The walk I planned is shown on the map below. This just touches the Tuesday route by the bothy but arriving and leaving the area on tracks I have not yet walked.
This time I parked at the north west corner of the circuit, by Harwood Shield, just outside a busy farmyard. As before I had a pack of kit, but I decided a little more water was a good idea and so took four 500ml bottles instead of two. My route took me through the farm yard where there were a few folks around. I was a little dismayed when a quad bike and trailer set off along the track I was planning to use, however I was initially going to go and look for a cache off to the west of that track by about a quarter of a mile so hopefully the quad would be well out of my way when I set off in that direction. Once I’d turned onto the westbound track a stone wall concealed me from the farm and I stopped and placed my t-shirt in my pack, electing to carry my wrap in my hand just in case. I was in full sun and it felt marvellous to catch the warmth all over.
A minute or two after I started again I heard a vehicle behind me. I tucked up behind a bend in the wall and watched to see if anything came my way. However, the Landover went off in the same direction as the quad had gone; it was starting to look as though I would not be able to go naked on the southbound track tonight 🙁 . I continued to a couple of old rail freight trucks and my GPS reliably informed me that my objective was hidden in one of them. This cache had not been visited for about 6 months so I was not certain it was still here, but it gave me an excuse to walk the area so I was not too fussed about finding it. In the event the cache was a quick find once I’d gently shoo’d all the sheep away. I signed the log and started back towards the farm.
The quad came back, with a rather dead looking sheep in the trailer, there was no sign of the Landrover. I covered up for the last few yards as I approached the farm and then stayed that way as I dropped into the valley to the south. As I walked downhill my eye was caught by the top strand of fence wire… it looked as though it was being used to dry a load of cloths. As I got closer it became apparent that the wire was in fact in use as a mortuary for moles. A quick estimate (count the moles in one section and multiply by the number of full sections) suggested there were about 250 of them hooked to the barbs by their noses. And they were starting to smell. I have no idea why anyone would go to the trouble of catching moles out on heath land like this, but maybe someone else ere will be able to explain. (I was half hoping the Landy would return so that I could ask.)
Once I was sure I was far enough from the farm building to avoid upsetting anyone I removed my wrap again and continued happily naked. There was no sign of any vehicles and the views were open enough that I was confident I’d see anything approaching in plenty of time but the skirt stayed in hand just in case.
Once the track turned right, away from my route, I put the wrap in my bag, had a drink and then wandered on enjoying the open spaces and tranquillity. The path rounded a small area of woodland and I could see a building ahead. I knew there was a ruined manor here (Riddlehamhope*) but it looked a little too habitable for my comfort so I covered up before following the path through the courtyard. It was a ruin. From the front it was obvious that the building was way past habitable 9it has apparently been empty since the early 20th centaury) and my clothing was quickly back in my pack.
I crossed another ladder stile like the one pictured in the first post and then turned left into a large area scattered with rocks to look for the second cache. Helpfully the hider had described this one as hidden under a stone… There were thousands of them! I was very relieved that this was high on the moor as there was a good, precise GPS signal and I was quickly able to locate the right patch of rocks and find the cache. I spent a few minutes sitting looking out over the valley, just soaking up the view and listening to the birds and the river babbling over the rocks below. Another little drink and a sandwich then I was back on my feet, following the path along the contour and into the next patch of woodland.
Oups! Post too long for the forum... See next post for the rest of the story.
It's never too late to have a happy childhood.
...continued from post above.
When the track emerged into the sunshine again I was intrigued to find this:
I have no idea what this is, it looks like a man made mouse hole, but was about three inches high. Perhaps when Tom and Jerry retired the latter bought an exclusive holiday mansion in the Northumberland hills… Anyone have a better idea?
The sun was starting to drop behind the hills now and I was walking a little faster to get back out of the shadow and into the sunlight. By the time I reached the top of the track I was rather hotter than I wanted to be and was hoping there was another pool for a dip. No such luck. I was now conscious that I was walking along the track I’d watched the pickup travelling two evenings earlier and once again my ears were tuned for any hints of an approaching engine.
All was quiet, apart from the bleating of sheep and the calls of the birds. I could hear no human sound, not even distant traffic or aircraft high overhead. Bliss. On reaching the bothy I began to cast around to find the path I wanted. After about ten minutes I gave up and took the obvious track instead, this looped a bit further south and put me in full view of the farm at Low Hope which, according to notes on the geocaching website, was now occupied after lying empty for many years. However, I could see no vehicles near the farm and no sign of movement, so I was able to stay naked, using a wall to screen my lower half from sight until I needed to turn into the farmyard. Here I put the wrap back on and strolled across as though I knew where I was going. All waymarking had disappeared on this route, but the map and GPS agreed about where I should go, so I took the straight line route just north of the farm buildings and straight on to the foot bridge I knew should be in the next valley.
I stayed dressed for a coupe of hundred yards, until a rise in the land hid the buildings from me, then went back to being properly dressed. I was a little unnerved by the absence of any path markers or obvious route worn by previous hikers, but continued anyway until, much to my relief, I spotted the bridge dead ahead.
I crossed the brook and checked my GPS to find the third and final cache of the walk. The magic arrow knew where it wanted me to go; straight into a huge patch of nettles… Hmm, probably not a good idea while naked. A quick excursion around the outside of the patch and I found a trail made by animals that lead to the middle of the patch. This provided access and I was able to stay naked and retrieve the cache without getting stung. I suspect the next cacher will not be so lucky; this cache is rarely visited and a month from now the nettles will be twice as high.
A couple of hundred yards north of the cache I dressed again as I was approaching a group of cottages and another farm (Long Lee). This time I could see cars, so discretion seemed sensible. Sure enough there were folks in their garden who would have had a very obvious view had I climbed the ladder stile by their back wall without dressing first. A cheerful “evening” was returned with a smile and a wave as I started looking for the next part of the path. I did not find it. It looked like the fence had been replaced, but the stile had not, so I was forced to make a short detour to get back onto the path. I stayed dressed until I was past the third farm (Stobby Lee) then stripped off for the final section back to the car.
The path routed back through the farm again, but I was able to make my way along a field using a wall for cover and so did not have to dress until I had changed out of my hiking boots and had another drink. This time I’d had three hours and seven minutes naked walking time and covered a total of seven miles in just under four hours. Magic, I just hope I get a few more evenings to explore the other caches in this area before I finish the job in Tyneside.
Have fun,
Ian.
* I'm not sure of the exact meaning of Riddlehamhope, but the following hints may allow you to make your own guess. Riddle comes from rid meaning to clear land, ham is a settlement or homestead, and hope in Northumberland is a desirable strip of better, more fertile, land in a valley.
PS: I should have mentioned that all pictures in these posts are clickable for a larger version (if your stomach can take it).
It's never too late to have a happy childhood.
Another great report with excellent photos. As for the moles, well, I live in the country and have never seen anything like this. It takes long enough to catch one mole, I understand, so heaven alone knows how long it took to catch this number. My only thought was that the person involved must have some kind of deep psychological problem.
On a happier note, please keep the reports coming, and more nude pics would be good as well!
Best wishes,
Philip.
If you ever decide you want some company on a Northumbrian walk just give me a pm and if I am available I would like to join you. Its better that wandering all alone
Steve
[gmod]Please note, this thread has been inactive since June 2012. Perhaps you may like to consider beginning a new one Steve if you are looking for company on a walk.[/gmod]
Steve and Janet