Sticky McSticky is back in action!

 

Day 1-2

Friday evening found me driving towards Brecon in my faithful van, "Trusty Rusty", having spent the day in London at the Stonehenge Exhibition. Fran was off to Somerset for a few days of grandkid sitting and I was escaping to the hills! The plan is to walk the southern portion of Offa's Dyke but first I had to find a suitable location to spend the evening which would be my first in my recently modified vehicle. I had even purchased a new airbed for the sleeping platform and the previous evening I had pumped it firmly up, using its internal pump. I was tired after a day in the big smoke and I was looking forward to a great night's sleep before commencing my five day walk in Knighton next morning.

I pulled into a concealed rest area and climbed into the back of the van. The air bed was as flat as a pancake! Luckily I had a foot pump but the connecting tube was too short. I had to half balance the airbed out of the van to re-inflate it and the connection was none too good either. After about ten minutes pumping I gave up. It is a large, luxury air bed and it seemed to contain enough air. Gratefully I sank onto and into it! It wobbled like a giant jelly and nearly tipped over. Maybe I could secure it with a rope or a chain? But then driving around Mid Wales in a van with an airbed and dangling ropes might not be a good look if the police pulled me over? I rolled over and dozed off to be awoken by a click and a loud hissing noise: the large clunky valve had caught on the rear door catch and the bed was rapidly emptying! The sleeping platform is hard plywood, where had I put that foot pump?

I eventually managed a few hours sleep and set off at 6am next morning to complete the drive to the market town of Knighton, which straddles the border of England and Wales and is where I had also started the Glyndwr walk last year.

The Offa's Dyke Trail, surprisingly enough, approximately follows the Dyke built by Offa, who was king of the Saxon Mercia in the late 800's. At that time Mercia was the most powerful kingdom in what is now England and having invaded and captured all the good farming land off the original occupiers, the Welsh, he built a large Dyke to prevent them attempting to reoccupy their grandfather's farms. It was a formidable undertaking and large portions of the ditch and dyke remain so that the path roughly runs down the border between modern England and much older Wales. I planned to walk most of the southern half from Knighton to Chepstow. Check out more about the path here:

https://www.nationaltrail.co.uk/en_GB/trails/offas-dyke-path/

The rucksack was packed with tent, sleeping mat and bag, and three days food as I strode out of Knighton with Sticky McSticky in hand, to begin the first climb of the day, leaving Trusty behind in the carpark. Sticky has undergone considerable restoration with the application of much PVA glue and beeswax. I glanced at him and did hesitate for a minute, why was I doing this, again? Were we both up to the challenge? I continued, partly because if I stop doing it I'll probably never do it again but mainly it is because I thoroughly enjoy it. Sticky agreed! There is a sense of freedom and adventure when one begins a journey like this; not knowing who you will meet, where you will sleep that night (or even if you will sleep that night!) It is exciting and invigorating!

I climbed up into some rolling hill country. The sun was shining, there was a gentle breeze and swifts were screaming crazily through the sky; the barley in the next field was rapidly ripening and I was soon walking along the line of the dyke. I was trying to work out which side was England and which Wales but soon discovered that, in this section, both sides were Wales: the Welsh had obviously managed to eventually claw back some of their land. I walked on for several miles, climbing steadily before descending to the River Lugg at Dolley Green for a late lunch and a lovely swim. It was a lot warmer now so I decided to laze by the river for a while and walk on into the evening.

I set off again about 4.15pm not really knowing where I would pitch my camp. A steady climb up from the river had me panting a little and I began to realise that water consumption was very necessary but that every litre of water weighs a Kg. I filled my bottles up again at Ditchyeld Bridge, treating them with Aquatabs so that I couldn't drink the contents for another half an hour. Torture!

I climbed on up onto Herrock Hill and eventually found a barely adequate camp site on the side of the trail. It was about 8pm and I was ready for a meal of salami and rice and settling down for a good night's sleep under canvas. Tent erected, I began pumping up the lightweight airbed I carry - it rapidly deflated. Competent explorer's know the value of checking all your equipment before leaving. I have been too busy and now had an uncomfortable night on a useless airbed to look forward to, literally between a rock and a hard place. I could barely get a  tent peg in to the ground and my legs got badly stung by nettles. I christened this "Camp Chaos" but the view down the valley was stunning. I even slept a few hours until dawn emerged through the clouds.  

Camp Chaos was compensated for by a stunning early morning view into England.

More soon! I will be posting periodically on this blog. If you are interested, become a follower and you will be notified about new posts. Just click on the button top left of this blog, to follow me and be informed of future posts.