A Gorge-ous run
Last week my wife and I went to Cheddar for five days. The main reason was to visit my mother-in-law who is staying there before moving into her new house. However it was also a good opportunity for some R'n'R.
Of course I couldn't resist a couple of runs while I was there. The first was an early morning run to the south of Cheddar. I was aiming for the local reservoir at Axbridge. Apparently there was a disused railway line that led there. It was called the Strawberry Line as it had been used in the past to transport the bountiful supply of local strawberries to the coast. However I managed to take a wrong turn and ended up following a road towards the village of Clewer instead.
The traffic wasn't heavy but there were enough speeding cars and blind corners for me to want to find an alternative route and when I spotted a dirt track on my left I took it. Having looked on a map I see that this was one of many droves in the area that are used by local farmers. I followed the track for a couple of miles passing farmhouses, fields of cattle and a camp site. I then took a sharp right turn and headed for a small hill just beyond.
At each farmhouse along the way there was a dressed up scarecrow. They included one on a bike in full cycling gear, a pole dancer complete with fake money tucked in her stocking and a cowboy on a scarecrow horse. No doubt this was part of a scarecrow festival held locally and made for interesting viewing. When I arrived at the foot of the hill in what I now know to be Nyland I turned around and retraced my steps.
I had run the 8 mile circular route in 1 hour and 8 minutes and there was no sign of my injury flaring up again. For my second run two days later I had to decide whether to make a second attempt at reaching the reservoir or whether to tackle the famous Cheddar Gorge. It wasn't a difficult decision.
Early on Friday morning I left the flat and headed straight for the foot of the Gorge just half a mile from where we were staying. The streets were quiet and the tourist shops were still closed as I began the climb.
The initial stretch was a comfortable climb as I wound my way up the snakelike road past the cheese and cider shops, pubs, cafes and cave entrances. After half a mile the road began to get steeper. The buildings were all behind me now and I passed through an area for cars and coaches to park. The climb continues to steepen as the road narrowed with the towering rock faces high above me on either side.
My pace had dropped considerably by this point and the lactic acid was beginning to build in my thighs. Ahead of me I saw a herd of goats balancing on the crumbling rock faces. As I approached puffing and panting and gasping for air they began to disperse, bleating and charging down the rocks and across the road.
The sides of the road began to fill with more trees and bushes creating a lush green swathe between the grey asphalt and the chalky cliffs. A group of cyclists passed in the other direction freewheeling towards Cheddar. I managed a half hearted wave as they whizzed past.
Now over a mile in to the climb I was sweating heavily. I was short of breath and my quads were burning but I was determined not to stop until I reached the top. I wanted to be able to say I ran the Gorge and know that I had really run it without stopping.
Another group of cyclists in full kit came up behind me. They were having to stand on the pedals to keep any sense of momentum. I moved to the opposite side of the road allowing them to pass and watched them pull away ahead of me.
By now the top of the Gorge was coming into view up ahead but there was still a way to go. I kept pushing hard and finished the last of my water. A mile later I emerged and kept going until I reached the sign welcoming those heading in the opposite direction to Cheddar Gorge. It had been a 3 mile climb at some stages as steep as 1 in 10. The road had brought me from sea level to 250m in just under 30 minutes.
At this point I stopped and caught my breath. The pain in my legs slowly subsided as I stretched and considered my next move. I could return the way I had come or head over the top and down the other side. Thinking it would be a shame not to take in the view I headed further uphill until I found the footpath that headed cross country back towards cheddar along the top of the Gorge. This took me through fields, along dirt tracks and then down through thick woodland.
The path led out of the trees and there before me was a stunning panorama. To my left in the distance I could make out Glastonbury Tor while to the right was the Bristol Channel and Weston-Super-Mare. Between the two was a flat, green, plain of fields and canals with the reservoir and Cheddar village spread out below. I paused to take it in and took a moment to be thankful for the freedom and health to be able to stand in such a place and see such a beautiful scene.
I now headed down the steep path towards Cheddar, skipping and slipping over the rocks and stones while trying to keep my balance. After a mile of this I came to Jacob's Ladder. This is a set of 274 steps that lead directly down the side of the Gorge. Each step represents a million years with sign boards along the way describing the changes in the areas geography at that time. When I reached the bottom I was back among the cafes and bars and just half a mile from home.
Another 8 miles complete. It had taken me just over an hour and a half including the rest at the top and a stop to take in the view. Back in Northampton there aren't any views quite as exhilarating but I'm off to North Wales in a couple of weeks so I'm looking forward to some more opportunities to run and explore there.
Of course I couldn't resist a couple of runs while I was there. The first was an early morning run to the south of Cheddar. I was aiming for the local reservoir at Axbridge. Apparently there was a disused railway line that led there. It was called the Strawberry Line as it had been used in the past to transport the bountiful supply of local strawberries to the coast. However I managed to take a wrong turn and ended up following a road towards the village of Clewer instead.
The traffic wasn't heavy but there were enough speeding cars and blind corners for me to want to find an alternative route and when I spotted a dirt track on my left I took it. Having looked on a map I see that this was one of many droves in the area that are used by local farmers. I followed the track for a couple of miles passing farmhouses, fields of cattle and a camp site. I then took a sharp right turn and headed for a small hill just beyond.
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| Nyland Hill |
I had run the 8 mile circular route in 1 hour and 8 minutes and there was no sign of my injury flaring up again. For my second run two days later I had to decide whether to make a second attempt at reaching the reservoir or whether to tackle the famous Cheddar Gorge. It wasn't a difficult decision.
Early on Friday morning I left the flat and headed straight for the foot of the Gorge just half a mile from where we were staying. The streets were quiet and the tourist shops were still closed as I began the climb.
The initial stretch was a comfortable climb as I wound my way up the snakelike road past the cheese and cider shops, pubs, cafes and cave entrances. After half a mile the road began to get steeper. The buildings were all behind me now and I passed through an area for cars and coaches to park. The climb continues to steepen as the road narrowed with the towering rock faces high above me on either side.
My pace had dropped considerably by this point and the lactic acid was beginning to build in my thighs. Ahead of me I saw a herd of goats balancing on the crumbling rock faces. As I approached puffing and panting and gasping for air they began to disperse, bleating and charging down the rocks and across the road.
The sides of the road began to fill with more trees and bushes creating a lush green swathe between the grey asphalt and the chalky cliffs. A group of cyclists passed in the other direction freewheeling towards Cheddar. I managed a half hearted wave as they whizzed past.
Now over a mile in to the climb I was sweating heavily. I was short of breath and my quads were burning but I was determined not to stop until I reached the top. I wanted to be able to say I ran the Gorge and know that I had really run it without stopping.
Another group of cyclists in full kit came up behind me. They were having to stand on the pedals to keep any sense of momentum. I moved to the opposite side of the road allowing them to pass and watched them pull away ahead of me.
At this point I stopped and caught my breath. The pain in my legs slowly subsided as I stretched and considered my next move. I could return the way I had come or head over the top and down the other side. Thinking it would be a shame not to take in the view I headed further uphill until I found the footpath that headed cross country back towards cheddar along the top of the Gorge. This took me through fields, along dirt tracks and then down through thick woodland.
The path led out of the trees and there before me was a stunning panorama. To my left in the distance I could make out Glastonbury Tor while to the right was the Bristol Channel and Weston-Super-Mare. Between the two was a flat, green, plain of fields and canals with the reservoir and Cheddar village spread out below. I paused to take it in and took a moment to be thankful for the freedom and health to be able to stand in such a place and see such a beautiful scene.
I now headed down the steep path towards Cheddar, skipping and slipping over the rocks and stones while trying to keep my balance. After a mile of this I came to Jacob's Ladder. This is a set of 274 steps that lead directly down the side of the Gorge. Each step represents a million years with sign boards along the way describing the changes in the areas geography at that time. When I reached the bottom I was back among the cafes and bars and just half a mile from home.
Another 8 miles complete. It had taken me just over an hour and a half including the rest at the top and a stop to take in the view. Back in Northampton there aren't any views quite as exhilarating but I'm off to North Wales in a couple of weeks so I'm looking forward to some more opportunities to run and explore there.
