July 21, Wilderhope Manor to Iron bridge

 What a day!  Eight hours of fast walking—Ok, no serious elevation, but still.  It started out like this:  For the first section, take the boring route or the suggested diversion.  Instructions for the diversion:  Head NE from Wilderhope Manor to Pilgrim's Cottage, turn right and take the forest track across Mogg Forest, exit at a stile and cross a field, on reaching a stream turn right and continue beside small lakes to reach Easthope Village.  From here, you can ascend to Wenlock Edge and the Shropshire Way once more.  I studied the route on the OS map and decided to give it a go.  

My first mistake should have been a warning:  I started out to Pilgrim's Cottage by going though a gate....did not need to go through gate, but that error became clear fairly soon.  Then, in Mogg Forest the track split; I took the wrong leg of the V.  After the small lakes there was a ginormous barley field with no crossing in the correct direction.  After several failed attempts to get it right, I decided to bushwhack through that damn barley for a good quarter mile.  (One is not supposed to do this when crops are growing.)  Finally, at Easthope village, I could not figure out how to ascend to Wenlock Edge, so I took the road for some distance thus sort of  negating the beauty of the diversion (it was really nice!)

The B3421, not so much:

Of course there were sheep:

And other beasties:

And remnants of a bygone era:

And from the present era:

There were a few concerns, such as wondering whether one was to exit the field though that little door affair behind a fence and under a big fallen tree:

(No.)

And making sure to stay right on the derech (path) and veer neither to the right nor to the left:

To avoid the electrified bands connecting the posts.  (One could easily crawl under, though.) 

One totally adorable town en route is Much Wenlock.  It is sort of a mini Ludlow, but due to the extra distance the early errors of my ways cost me, I figured I should just soldier on, and a good thing, too, because the worst was yet to come.  Oh, Much is famous for:

I knew that there was a diversion fairly near to Ironbridge.  What I had not figured was how poorly the diversion would be marked.  As I was going where the diverting sign pointed, I encountered a couple walking their dog.  "I am trying to get to Ironbridge; can you help me find the best way?"  The guy offered two possibilities; I settled on the one that had me continue the way I was going and then to follow the purple arrows and son on.  

A while after the purple arrow turn off, I was not happy with the way things looked.  Another man walking his dog appeared; I asked him for directions.  I would have been wandering in these very dark dark and eerie woods for days had I listened to him but, pointing to a yellow road on the map, he did tell me, "You have to get to this road here."  "Oy!"  That was all the way back where the first guy told me to follow the purple arrows.  All this was a good hour of extra walking.  Thank God the walking itself was not difficult.  Being lost and not being able to figure it out, is very stressful.  

Bed and Breakfast in Ironbridge is lovely.  BUT you have to climb a huge, as in very large,  flight of stairs to get here.  I so did not want to descend and reascend in order to go to the Co-Op, so when Julie, the owner, announced that she was going to buy fruit and vegetables, I asked if I could go along. Let's put it this way, as mediocre as the Co Op is, it is better than the shoppee we went to, but I made do with a crappy sandwich and some excellent blueberries.  Tomorrow, I will improve upon the main course!

July 20 Ludlow

I had choices today and after thinking about it quite a bit, decided that I had not sufficiently  exploited Ludlow and its environs, so I cobbled together three walks, and yes, there was a  bit of redundancy, but this is such a lovely town—I looked it up and Ludlow is not a city even though it has traffic lights, and supermarkets that are open on Sunday (albeit with abbreviated hours) and everything.  

First I did a three mile town walk, then an eight mile Ludlow and East of Ludlow walk, which was absolutely lovely. 

 

There are walks, such as the circular walk Max and I took at Bishop's Castle, which make you ask, "Are we there yet?"  And then there are walks like this one that you wish would go on another five miles.  

After some lunch, topped off the day with a two mile sort of highlights walk.  

Photos and commentary are totally out of order because the wi-fi here is the worst, but does it matter?

Outside someone's cottage:

Ahh, now I know that these are Mexican Cigar plants!

View of Ludlow from up and away:

Men's stylish hair cuts/dos are a big business in these parts:

I don't have a photo of Dinham House (not sure why not), but wow, lots of big names in its lineage of ownership:

I am loving the four singing men!

And the job as Reader seems pretty cushy:

A Music Shop:

Oopsie:

Pet cemetery at the church:

Also at the church, an exhibit I would loved to have seen, but missed it by about a week:

And the museum was closed, but just for today!

No idea what this critter is supposed to be:

A dog?

Here is a story for you. (Click on it to enlarge to read; it is worth it):

Feathers Hotel  is quintessential Ludlow:

Out in the countryside, there were a few people out on the  road, like this jogger:

And a  big black cow:

And other cows.  See the brown and white cow pushing at the gate...and all her friends behind her?  Well, guess what?  I GOT THERE FIRST!  (Thank God!)

This sign, reminiscent of Gilbert and Sullivan, made my day!  A Constabulary, Yes!  We would be better off if we had more words like that!

How depressing would it be to live on this street?

Did you know that Ludlow was.....

No?  Well now you do.

Since I was now in town and not in the country, this sign puzzled me:

Then I saw this vending machine area where you could buy fresh milk, very fresh, one assumes:

I passed an art gallery that promised original art, and went in.  The paintings were of two kinds:  lovers male and female male and male and so on, and all looking exactly alike and  in similar postures:

interspersed with representations of animals.  

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The medium was acrylic (?) mixed with sand;  the effect was ugly to the extreme.  The artist was in the shop, so I asked her about the technique, but she said it was secret because it is scientific and she is the only person in the world who uses it.  (Thank God!)

The River Teme one last time:

July 18, and 19 Ludlow

 Max took a train a little after 7:00 to make his way to London via Newport and then on to Heathrow.  It is already lonely without him.  I took off on a walk through the Mortimer Forest.  Mortimer, remember him?  He's the guy who has the trail form hell—at least near Kington— named after him, and ALSO a forest!  Ludlow is one end of the trail and Kington the other.  The Forest is better than the walk—which, in all honesty, is not the fault of Mortimer but of property owners who make devilish changes to a route.  Back to the forest: It even has trees:

Some really pretty ones:

But the woods are not so benign as you would think.  Remember Little Red Riding hood?

The walk took up a good portion of the day.  After refreshing, I took off for the Tesco to buy a loaf of bread.  It is a good thing I did not have to  go to the bathroom.

Why they have to advertise IN SUCH BIG LETTERS that the toilets don't work, I do not understand. (The sign reminds me of other irritating signage such as "can tuna.")

The next stage of the walk is from Ludlow to Wheat Hill.  From Wheat Hill you have to take a taxi back to Ludlow (try that for fun), OR you could take a taxi to Wheat Hill and walk back to Ludlow.  I was contemplating the latter, but somehow just did not have a good feeling about it, so I decided to walk about half way there and walk back.  And that is what I did.

Maybe it was the rain (not too bad) or the humidity (high) or the challenges (many) or the elevation (lots), or all of the above, but I found this outing demanding.  Most of the route was lovely,  especially the return, which was mostly downhill and because of the direction, you don't have to turn around ton see the the very pleasant views:

This is a pipe bridge:

It is a pipe bridge—hang on to your hats for this bit—because in addition to there being a pedestrian bridge, there are big pipes going across.  Yes, sir!

And they don't want any shenanigans at the bridge, either!

My question is:  Is the danger from falling into the abyss or from those spikes?

Speaking of danger, Max would not have liked walking through this field:

But, again, the real danger seems to be related to crossing the street:

This field was a killer.  It was huge and there was no path through the wheat where there was supposed to be a path.  Figuring out what to do took a long time...both going and returning, although on the return I managed an efficient detour...there is luck in that, though, because you never know if you will be able to access a gate or there will be some manner of egress. 

I was so glad the the fallen tree was not the means of crossing:

Directional posts such as these are not helpful:

Nor is this remnant of a stile:

If I were a cow and wanted a drink, how much would I want to wade through that huge, deep, muddy puddle?

As a human, how much to I want to scale that barbed wire wrapped fence in order to get to the adjacent field?

You couldn't see it from there—which, let me tell you, was VERY ANNOYING—but about 50 feet farther along, there was a stile.  When you  were coming from the other direction, it was perfectly obvious.  That is how these thing are sometimes.