Training Walk II (38km Tring loop) .... Trouble Over Bridgewater

Mark plays his "I'd love to join you gentlemen, but I'm in Papua New Guinea" card. Various members of the team look nervously at the next card in the deck which says something about "Papworth General".

When we meet up at Marsworth, the Bluebells tearoom hasn't even opened up for the day, and there's a nip in the air. Dick the Shepherd was a lot warmer when he blew his nail, but at least it's bright. The forecast for later is less positive and Howard has brought a cheese and onion pasty that could double as a life raft if things turn bad.

The first part of the route takes us along the Grand Union and we make good progress. There won't be many flat canal towpaths on the South Downs Way, but Howard's navigational skills aren't that great, so it's good to get a few miles under the belt before he leads us astray.

Although we have a training plan (of sorts), we're still short of support crew, so we're currently expecting to have to carry everything we need. Pete's suggestion is to bring livestock on the hoof and turn them into snacks as necessary. Wellington's army on the Peninsula campaign needed 300 cattle a day to supply the soldiers with their pound of beef, so there is a precedent.
Ask the Expert #3 : Where did Wellington’s 300 cattle per day come from?
- By November 1813, the Commissariat was supplying over 100,000 pounds of biscuit, 200,000 lbs of forage and slaughtering 300 head of cattle a day. Quantities such as these could not be satisfied locally, so most of the foodstuffs were brought to the Peninsula by sea, not only from Britain, but further abroad as well.
Howard makes a mental note to look up the number for the Commissariat in the Yellow Pages.

The route now heads south and the team starts the long climb up to Wendover Woods. Flagging spirits are kept in check by the promise of breakast at the snappily titled "Cafe In The Woods". The Commissariat has been busy; bacon rolls and flapjack have been brought from the four corners of the Empire, maybe from as far away as Aylesbury. Refuelling complete, and the team heads off ..... in the wrong direction. Matt's GPS back-up nudges us back on course and we're onto the Ridgeway at last. It's easy to visualise how Neolithic hunters would have used this track to try out their new neolithic Gore-tex breathable jackets and neolithic carbon fibre walking poles.



Trail Of Bread and their new portable navigational aid

All roads lead to Hastoe, but the Bread team give the Hastoe border security guards the slip and escape to the tranquil wooded parkland of the Ashridge estate. Even by posh Chilterns country estate standards, Ashridge is posh. Not only does it have a posh house, it has its own park and its own monument.
Ask the Expert #4 : Nice monument, but what is it for?
- The Bridgewater Monument was erected in 1832 to the Duke of Bridgewater. Originally known as Francis Egerton he was the 3rd Duke. The family owned the Ashridge estate and the monument was built 20 years after his death to mark his achievements as the father of inland navigation, including the famous canals around Manchester.
It would have been nice to explore the estate further, if only to understand why their 45 bazillion hectare estate doesn't have weeds and our postage stamp gardens require hourly maintenance to keep stuff at bay. Howard snags another trig point in his sad geeky 1000 of everything quest before the team negotiates a high footbridge over the A41 that would cause Indiana Jones to get a bit wobbly. We find a slightly damp spot of grass to eat our warm sweaty sandwiches, while being hassled by a warm sweaty horse.

Howard tries to avoid the attentions of a large hairy creature .... and a horse

 Despite Howard's efforts to get the team lost again, they manage to navigate by Bread reckoning to the Valiant Trooper at Aldbury and partake of the local recuperative waters.


Apart from the ungrateful impatient Buckinghamshire Sunday lunch brigade ("I want my Confit of Roast Chaffinch and I want it now"), it's a very pleasant experience with local beers including Long Crendon's XT Brewery #4 (Mellow Amber).

They said :
An amber beer with a special Belgian malt and a fruity mix of American and European hops. Very addictive, and our flagship beer.

We said :
That's nice, is it available intravenously too?

The fleecy white pillowy clouds have been replaced by monstrous grey Victorian eiderdown clouds and there's a bit of drizzle in the air as we start to climb up towards Ivinghoe Beacon. By the time we get to the top it's blowing a gale, but the blue sky has temporarily returned. There's just time for a quick game of "What's That Powerstation?", before we leave the Ridgeway behind.



On a clear day you can see some overweight ramblers

The descent from the beacon is tricky and Pete is forced to use his capacious waterproof as a drag chute like something landing on the Ark Royal. We are encouraged by Derek's treacle scones and it isn't long before we get to Ivinghoe village. Legs are definitely getting heavy now and the decision to walk past the Rose & Crown and the Red Lion is not universally popular. By a cruel twist of fate and bad route planning, we add an unpleasant loop along the main road in the opposite direction to our start point. It's all character building stuff, and we do go past lots of signs for Dacorum district council, which is as close to decorum as we can get.
Ask the Expert #5 : Where does Dacorum come from?  Is it Roman for Tring?
- The hundred of Dacorum was first recorded in 1196 although its existence dates from the 9th and 10th century when it lay on the margins of the southern boundary of Danelaw and the River Lea. Its name in Latin means "of the Danes". In the 11th century, the Domesday Book records that the hundreds of Tring and Danais overlapped areas of the hundred of Dacorum. Modern day Dacorum is the name for the local government district which covers Hemel Hempstead, Berkhamsted, Tring and the western part of Kings Langley

As the grey skies turn black and the drizzle turns to rain, we are at least now heading in the right direction. The team shelters under a bridge while Matt deploys his waterproof trousers. The last couple of miles is a real slog, but the swallows careening over the almost empty reservoir almost take our mind off the fact that we stopped enjoying this about two hours ago.

We do eventually get back to the cars and head over the road for a refreshing pint at The White Lion .... which has closed down. Aaaargggghhhh. The Angler's Retreat comes to our rescue.We manage to get through every nut that Nobby has ever made. The fact that we feel terrible after only a third of the full route is banished by Everard's Elixir and emergency calls to home for baths to be run.