Ackling Dyke & the art of getting lost

[puddleshark]

After yesterday's storm, a beautiful October day today. Blue sky and stately white clouds. The wind still blowing strong and cold up on the downs, but it was perfect weather for walking in the shelter of the woods.

I took the old Roman road, Ackling Dyke, southwards from Gussage All Saints again, in search of Chetterwood. But it was such a fair and fine October day, I didn't want to be stopping and looking at my compass & map all the time. I wanted to be putting one foot in front of the other, along the lanes and through the woods. So I ended up a little lost, and never did find Chetterwood. But I feel like I came closer to finding Chetterwood this time. I think perhaps I will find it next time.

The first stretch of the path climbs onto Sovell Down.


Sovell Down Nature Reserve. This time, I just peered over the gate. Another place I need to explore one day.

So many berries brought down by yesterday's winds. The narrow path carpeted in red hawthorns, small jet-black buckthorn berries, blue-black sloes.


Crab apples.


A short stretch of path through the fields, before Ackling Dyke disappears back into the woods.


This is marked on the map as a ford. But even now, in October, there's still no water in the Crichel Stream.





Left behind the Roman road, and turned onto Cock Road. Ahem. Yes. Well. I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent explanation involving poultry.


Cock Crow Farm. I think it must have changed hands recently, and the owners changed the name, because my map of Cranborne Chase still shows the name of the farm as Cock Road Farm. "Cock Crow Farm" is much more genteel, right?


The public right of way actually passes through the yard of Cock Crow Farm - a yard currently cobbled with walnuts.

A pleasant stretch of path through thick hazel coppice brought me out somewhere I wasn't expecting. But that was fine. Wherever it was, there was a bench for me to sit on and drink coffee, under an old oak (hoping that it had dropped all its acorns during the storm, and there were none left to fall on my head or in my coffee...)





There were houses in the distance, and a green grassy path running towards them. I followed it...


...along an orchard wall...



...and found myself in the tiny hamlet of Manswood.


On the left, the Tree of Red Apples of Manswood.

It's a quiet, pretty little place.


Shame it's flying the flag of hostility to strangers. I sneaked by. No net curtains twitched.


Landscape near Manswood. The harvest was finished and the ploughing started early this year.




The bridleway back through Oakhills Coppice to Cock Crow Farm.


Back along Cock Road.


Back along Ackling Dyke.








Back up over the downs, with a Kestrel hovering above the path of the old Roman road.

Comments

[heleninwales]

There are signs of autumn, though the trees are still green. I know what you mean about faffing around with maps. It's why we so often repeat successful routes. We just want to get out and walk.

[puddleshark]

Not many leaves falling yet, but still the trees are so heavily laden with fruit and berries this year, it can't help feeling autumnal.

Yes, I have a lot of regular walks I default to when I'm not in the mood for maps and exploration. But every now and then I want to go somewhere unfamiliar. And we're so blessed with footpaths in Dorset, there are endless possibilities for getting lost. 😊

[greenwoodside]

Beautiful photos, though I now find myself desperately curious about Chetterwood!

Shame re the fine old rural name of Cock Road Farm being lost. One less excuse for chortling like a 13 year old over traditional toponomy. (Grannie Butts Wynd up in Fife is still one of my favourites).

[puddleshark]

Thank you! Me, too. I'm curious about Chetterwood. I hope to find it one day, if it is in the mood to be found.

Heh! Oh, Grannie Butts Wynd is an absolute classic! I don't think we have anything to match that.