It was never going to be dull that's for sure, but we had not imagined losing our dinner to the dog, or stumbling (fortunately not literally!!) into a seemingly popular dogging spot on our return home.
Shooting stars across a massive, clear, jewelled night sky; accompanied by the hush of a low flying owl, swooping to and fro above our heads as we set up for the night, at the edge of a recently harvested, south facing corn field, were just two of Nature's treasures that were gifted on our first 'long talked about - finally got round to it' wild camping night, in early August.
Leaving home late afternoon with Forest School 'bestie' Kate, accompanied by her crazy dawg 'Monty', we headed west in the heat of the sun, with ruc sacs on our backs and not so much spring in our step, due to their sheer weight - how much had we packed?!
The climb onto the ridge of the Downs seemed harsh, so soon after leaving home. We soon established a good pace, as our muscles warmed and stepped up to their new challenge. It felt great to be free - if only for 24 hours.
Three hours flew by, opening many photographic opportunities, for both Kate and I love nothing more than to spend hours snapping photos of the simple things in life - flowers, gateways .... even just stones. As you can imagine, our husbands just do not get it, and so it was pure pleasure to be able to indulge in our photographic desires, without the normal repercussions we endure.
As the sun began to set in the west, we came upon the perfect spot - southerly facing with fantastic wide skies to the east, perfect for an early sunrise; furthermore, shelter was relatively close by, should unexpected bad weather occur and we needed to retreat.
Laying down our kit, we set out our bivvy bags and prepared to enjoy an evening chatting, eating and enjoying a gin and tonic or two - rude not two when you're out with your mate! However, Monty - our four legged friend, had ideas of his own and with the swiftest of moves, that even a ninja would be proud of, the platter of cured meats, which Kate had just laid out for us to eat, vanished in one swipe of a long doggy tongue. We looked at each other aghast - with half our supper now in the dog and with appetites as big as a horse, not only were we thinking of our own stomachs, but how was all that salty meat going to react on poor old Mont!! Time would surely tell....
For a while, our hopes for being immersed in the sounds of nature, felt a wild dream, with a combine harvester busy at work in the next door field. However, by nightfall our wishes had come true and with the dew encouraging us to make an early retreat into our bivvy bags, we were soon enjoying the total peace of a wild place. The tiny nibbling of mice teeth on grass at the head of my bed, and the calling of owls creating a surround sound effect, I was soon soothed into a deep sleep for several hours - unlike poor Kate, who was by now dealing with a dog with an unquenchable thirst.
The dew was the dog's saviour that night - and our bivvy bags were his 'cup', for without these he would have had nothing to lick. For possibly 3 hours he licked.... and licked.... and licked - his poor tongue!! Fortunately we had bought plenty of water with us, but possibly not enough to deal with this doggy disaster, if it continued for much longer. As dawn broke and with the most beautiful sunrise in the east, we began to break camp and prepare for our walk back home. Greetings were shared with several early morning walkers and a light cereal bar and fruit based breakfast was enjoyed, before setting off to embrace another day on the hoof.
We followed a path running parallel to our previous day's walk, this time heading eastwards. It took us into the depths of an ancient forest,sadly showing signs of the dreaded Ash Dieback disease - Chalara Fraxinea, and obviously part of a woodland management programme for the safe removal of effected trees.
Soon we reached a buzzing roadside cafe, our planned coffee stop and a welcome bowl of water for Monty, who by now appeared to be over the worst of the effects of his previous night's meat raid. It proved to be a fantastic people watching location, with age old biker's reliving stories over a cuppa in the warmth of the bright summer morning, yet to reveal the true heat of the coming day.
Without wishing to bring an end to our inaugural wild camping adventure, we knew that the longer we stopped the harder it would be to get going again; so, with out further ado, we heaved our 'oh so heavy' packs onto our backs and continued on our way. We knew that it was all down hill from this spot. What we did not know, was the fact that we were walking straight into a seemingly very popular dogging spot. That however, is no story for this blog - with Kate having taken advantage of the selection of condom wrappers as a unique and completely unexpected photo opportunity, we continued our descent in an easterly direction and were soon at a spot which completed our circular route; and were back amongst the meadows of the Wildbrooks and heading home.
This may have been a short, one night adventure, but it will not be the last - our appetites have been whet and shhhh - dont tell, but while my hiking buddy is away in Scotland with her husband and Mont - I snuck a sneaky night out in my garden, camping wild under the stars, while the rest of my family slept indoors. Going wild in my own backyard!
