A few weeks ago I caught the bus to Pershore and trekked back.  It seemed logical that I should be able to do the same trip in reverse, so that’s exactly what I tried out.

The route itself is pleasant enough.  Across the road from The Oak Apple is a hidden footpath that leads down towards St Peters.  You parallel the railway line until you come to the A440, where the footpath then cuts directly across this busy road.  However, whereas there was a clear path and a set of steps just a matter of days ago, this time I discovered that the diggers had moved in to continue the expansion of the road. Getting up the freshly dug hillside and locating the path again was a bit of challenge.

From there, the route takes you along the road to Norton, and at The Retreat you can again join footpaths – albeit seldom used ones.  After crossing a field, you then have to cross not one, but two railway lines at a junction, and following this there is a 1km cross-field hike.  For the latter, it’s best to take a compass bearing, or you have to circumnavigate the fence line in order to get out of the field.

A short hike brings you to Stoulton church, and from here you essentially parallel the B4084 South East towards Pershore.  The only tricky part is where one farmer has utilized the entire field to grow corn, with the adjacent path reduced to nothing more than thick, vicious and impenetrable brambles.  The only way to get through is to crouch along between two of the rows of corn.

My new boots were still not broken in, and they were continuing to bruise my lower legs.  I’d brought my Crocs with me to change into at the completion of my hike, but in the end I needed to change my footwear early.  There were only some easy fields left to cross anyway.

My real problems started when I tried to get the bus home.  Knowing which way Worcester lay, I was confused to see that the bus stop to my home town lay on the Evesham side of the road, and that the bus to Evesham has to be caught on the Worcester side.  Worst still, the buses were not arriving at the advertised time.  I had a beer in The Pickled Plum, and asked where I should catch the bus from.  The barman suggested walking the 2km to the train station.  ‘You’ll just get old waiting for the bus,’ he said.

I decided to walk up the road towards Worcester, reasoning that the next stop must surely only be for buses going to the city.  I calculated correctly, but discovered that there was only one bus per hour – and the next one was not for another 50 minutes.

So, deciding I would be able to get to the next stop or two within that time, on I walked.  Had I know that there was not another bus stop for miles, I would probably have thought about getting the train after all.  The bus passed me long before I got to the stop after Pershore.

When I reached The Plough in Drakes Broughton, I decided on having another pint.  I’d been walking for several hours, and was still unsure how I’d actually get home.  It was fully conceivable by now that I’d have to walk all the way back – wearing Crocs and carrying around 13kg.

But, as I soon discovered, there is another bus stop just down from The Plough.  Here I learned that I had around 17 minutes until the next X50 bus.  That was ample time for me to get to Stoulton, where my friend Ali catches the bus from, so on I trekked.

I arrived in Stoulton with five minutes to spare, and happily waited for the bus…

Which did not come.

Having had more than enough for one day, I called in on Ali.  He quickly explained that the X50 does not stop at Stoulton.  Had I waited near The Plough, I’d be on my way by now.

Happily for me, with 18km already under my belt, and needing to get home to help with the kids, Ali offered to give me a lift back.
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Who would have thought that catching a bus could be so difficult?

Having had to recycle my old, faithful pair of walking boots, this latest hike saw me breaking my new ones in.  I was probably (definitely) too ambitious with the distance I'd planned for, but that aside, events also taught me another lesson.

Once I have decided upon my route, I've been photocopying A4 sized sheets of the relevant section of my OS map, and only taking those copies with me.  On this particular hike, I missed a mid-field turn off, which resulted in me heading West for further than planned.... and ultimately I 'came off' my map. 

Now I could have re-traced my steps - that's always the golden rule.  But I calculated that if I could head south for a kilometer or so, I'd find myself back onto my second photocopied sheet.  In the end, I stumbled across a very inviting country pub.  By this point, the bottom of my legs, above the ankles where the boot-tops reach, were aching.  The stiff new boots had actually bruised my legs, and rather than soldier on and cause myself misery on my subsequent walks, I went for a pint and got Esta to come and get me.  Besides, we had a family event planned too, and me walking on would also have caused some timing problems.

So, having walked 14km in new boots, and having also learned that I need the whole OS map in my backpack as a backup to my disposable copies, I capitulated to circumstance and enjoyed a beer in the early October sunshine. 

During some of the treks I've been on recently, it's been amazing to see so much wildlife on display within walking distance of my own house.

On one hike alone, I startled two deer; almost trod on a hare who waited until the last moment before making a break for it; surprised a host of pheasants; and saw buzzards soaring gracefully, crying out in an attempt to scare some prey out from cover.

What isn't so much fun is realising that I have to trudge across an entire field of freshly ploughed earth.  The picture on the left is of a field that went on for over a kilometer.  It was hard work on the legs, and contributed to my walking boots disintegrating.  With sadness, I was forced to recycle them, having walked miles and miles in the them, and to buy a new pair.