Heavy rain was forecast for this afternoon, beginning with showers in the morning, so I started early, woken by chattering birds in the hedge behind me, and was off by 7:00 am, after packing away my tent, already thoroughly wet from early rain. Fortunately there was a gap between showers as I made my way over a railway line, up and down lanes, and then up the path to the first summit, Hatterall Hill. On the way was a hillfort where Iron Age inhabitants would have been able to view the countryside for many miles around. Contemplating their lives I did wonder whether the lower ground would then have been wooded at that time, rather than patterned into neat fields as they are now. If that was the case, an enemy would have been able to approach without being spotted...
Reaching the trig point on top of Hatterall Hill, I had a play with the "augmented reality" feature on the hiking app I had loaded on my phone. This showed the names of the peaks I could see and how far they were away, superimposed on the view seen by the phone's camera. Unfortunately the wind was causing my hand to move slightly causing the names of the distant summits to jump around, making it difficult to say which peaks the labels were referring to. The weather tried to make the walk unpleasant with wind, intermittent showers and relatively low temperatures for late May (six degrees Centigrade according to a Garmin temperature sensor I had acquired while idly surfing the net during one of the lockdowns). However I had on my waterproofs, including waterproof overmitts and relatively new boots, so I was comfortable, warm and dry, although it was a pain if I wanted a pee, or find my handkerchief in some inner pocket, necessitating much adjustment of clothes.
Today's route was along the length of the Black Mountains, along a ridge high up on the Welsh - English border. To the right were distant vistas of neat English farmland, to the left parallel ridges of brooding Welsh moorland. In today's weather the moors were very much in brooding mood, scraps of cloud scurrying across the ridge under an overcast sky of mottled greys. Although it was now late May, the drab, dry brown heather gave the common a winter coat, but if you looked there were signs of spring. Bright green whimberry sprigs were replacing last years growth, fresh grass was pushing through old bleached growth and being neatly cropped by the wandering horses and sheep, also still with their winter coats, although the bouncing lambs, already a good size, showed we were well into the year. Lemon green sphagnum moss, the new hero in the fight against climate change, was busy locking away carbon dioxide among clumps of other vegetation.
Offa's Dyke Path is well maintained on the ridge. I have walked it at least three times, but my memory was not so reliable. I remembered the section of path paved with thick slabs of rock being of greater length and starting earlier in my walk. I also forgot just how far it was from the ridge to Hay-in-Wye, crossing numerous fields in the approach to the town. Last time I crossed these fields in darkness due to early nightfall in November, using my head torch and GPS to find my way. Today it was easier but maybe not so exciting!
Hay-on-Wye is famous for its bookshops, but there are many other interesting shops. I sat in one with a café, eating hummus, coffee and cake (raspberry and mint?) while looking at Moorish lanterns and Montezuma's chocolates. As I contemplated the rain outside I was glad I had booked into the warmth of the "Old Black Lion" pub for the night. Another ancient but welcoming establishment.
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