Despite the noise at the holiday park I slept much longer than I intended and after breaking camp and boiling the 6 eggs I bought I didn't head out until after 10. The first several hours were spent in the lulworth ranges, an army artillery range that is only open on the weekend. In fact, I was going to walk in the other direction but went in the direction I did so that I could arrive at the ranges on a weekend. I don't know whether it was the anticipation or the amazing sights of the previous day, but the ranges walk failed to live up to my anticipation. It was beautiful, of course, but I am surprised it was touted as one of the most beautiful on the coast path. The coolest part was the giant holes in the landscape which were obviously the result of artillery fire. And the numerous bombed out tanks laying fallow in the fields. I wished my husband had been there because I think he would have liked that part especially.
Half way through the ranges I was coming down toward a beach and I saw the lights of an ambulance. I dreaded what I would see as I drew near. Not someone with a heart attack. A drowning. Someone mangled after a fall from a cliff or an accidental artillery explosion as the result of an unwise wander off the marked path. I did not want to see what the crowd of onlookers were gathered around. The hypochondriac in me tends to latch on to accidents and tragedies and make unhealthy obsessions of them. Two ambulances became six, four EMTs, twelve. Oh god, I won't look. But everyone milling around farther from the hudled group was happy, acting carefree. How can these people be so unconcerned? Surely if it were some dire calamity they would look more upset. I sat down well away from the crowded people and emergency workers to eat my lunch. When I glanced over I noticed that some of them were laughing. But six ambulances, so many emergency workers... then I heard one of them on the radio, "yeah, quite a bad sprain. We are going to take him into East Lulworth." WHAT? 6 ambulances for a sprained ankle? Seriously? Well I guess its good to know that there is so little for them to do that they are sending the full fucking cavalry for a sprained ankle.
After the ranges, I passed kimmerage bay, where the mom and son from before had told me they were going to camp. It was only 7 miles from where we started though, and even though it was already 4pm, I decided to walk the other 6 to Worth Matravers. Sure the guide I had called those six miles severe and hairy (I don't think that's the right kind of hairy, but spelling isn't really one of my strong suits). Sure the wind was blowing and clouds were looming and the campground was really a few miles past Worth Matravers. Would that stop me? No.
Right away the roller coaster path started climbing steeply. And where there is many times a fence between you and the cliff, this time the path was squeezed between the fence and the cliff, close enough that if I fell over I would pitch over the side. Normally I don't worry about suddenly lurching off balance, but the wind was strong, and the kind that blows in different directions and with unpredictable gusts, blustery I think you would call it. And it was raining as well. No doubt it was perfectly safe, but it brought to mind another rainy cliffside experience and with a heavy bag making my balance comprised I decided to crawl under the fence and walk in the neighboring field.
Unfortunately it wasn't possible to walk parallel to the path in fields the whole way so I ended up further inland and so I missed out on St. Aldhelm's Head, which is a shame, but on the bright side, I was not paralyzed with fear or flung to my death, so not a total wash. My inland detour added a few miles and after hours battling the wind and rain I arrived in Worth Matravers. After concluding there was nothing to eat or do there and I was going to have to continue on to the campground several miles away . Then I realized that what I had taken for a fossil museum was also a pub, the Square and Compass. Tired, cold, and hungry, I was glad to find anywhere, but when I set my backpack down under a table to protect it from the rain and went in, I realized I had stumbled upon an amazing place.
Low ceilings and an uneven floor gave it a cave like feel, clearly unchanged from earlier days. They served several home pressed cinders and meat pasties (I had both) and there was a large crowd of happy revellers dancing to some proper English folk music. It was an absolute dream come true at the end of a long day. I went outside to drink my cider and wait for my pasty. A sort of strange looking guy I had seen making his way through town as I had been was there. I talked with him for a bit but when I got my food I moved to a neighboring table next to a very handsome 20 year old. Sweet, at that age. But after 5 minutes of his boastful accounts of the climbing problems he was going to face and the sweet arret next to his amazing bivouac cave he would roll out of and onto the rock, I decided I'd really rather talk to the weird guy. He turned out to be not at all weird and Dimitri (names have been changed to protect the innocent) and his 'partner', Katie, invited me to stay at their place so I didn't even have to walk any more. A good thing as I was not that steady on my feet after 3 pints of strong home pressed cider. All and all a very happy close to the day. To top it off, Katie had lived in Eugene one summer in her youth during some 70's north american grand adventure and loved it (I think that connection was what really sealed my invitation) . Oh eugene, I heart you, giving me gifts though time and across space.
Half way through the ranges I was coming down toward a beach and I saw the lights of an ambulance. I dreaded what I would see as I drew near. Not someone with a heart attack. A drowning. Someone mangled after a fall from a cliff or an accidental artillery explosion as the result of an unwise wander off the marked path. I did not want to see what the crowd of onlookers were gathered around. The hypochondriac in me tends to latch on to accidents and tragedies and make unhealthy obsessions of them. Two ambulances became six, four EMTs, twelve. Oh god, I won't look. But everyone milling around farther from the hudled group was happy, acting carefree. How can these people be so unconcerned? Surely if it were some dire calamity they would look more upset. I sat down well away from the crowded people and emergency workers to eat my lunch. When I glanced over I noticed that some of them were laughing. But six ambulances, so many emergency workers... then I heard one of them on the radio, "yeah, quite a bad sprain. We are going to take him into East Lulworth." WHAT? 6 ambulances for a sprained ankle? Seriously? Well I guess its good to know that there is so little for them to do that they are sending the full fucking cavalry for a sprained ankle.
After the ranges, I passed kimmerage bay, where the mom and son from before had told me they were going to camp. It was only 7 miles from where we started though, and even though it was already 4pm, I decided to walk the other 6 to Worth Matravers. Sure the guide I had called those six miles severe and hairy (I don't think that's the right kind of hairy, but spelling isn't really one of my strong suits). Sure the wind was blowing and clouds were looming and the campground was really a few miles past Worth Matravers. Would that stop me? No.
Right away the roller coaster path started climbing steeply. And where there is many times a fence between you and the cliff, this time the path was squeezed between the fence and the cliff, close enough that if I fell over I would pitch over the side. Normally I don't worry about suddenly lurching off balance, but the wind was strong, and the kind that blows in different directions and with unpredictable gusts, blustery I think you would call it. And it was raining as well. No doubt it was perfectly safe, but it brought to mind another rainy cliffside experience and with a heavy bag making my balance comprised I decided to crawl under the fence and walk in the neighboring field.
Unfortunately it wasn't possible to walk parallel to the path in fields the whole way so I ended up further inland and so I missed out on St. Aldhelm's Head, which is a shame, but on the bright side, I was not paralyzed with fear or flung to my death, so not a total wash. My inland detour added a few miles and after hours battling the wind and rain I arrived in Worth Matravers. After concluding there was nothing to eat or do there and I was going to have to continue on to the campground several miles away . Then I realized that what I had taken for a fossil museum was also a pub, the Square and Compass. Tired, cold, and hungry, I was glad to find anywhere, but when I set my backpack down under a table to protect it from the rain and went in, I realized I had stumbled upon an amazing place.
Low ceilings and an uneven floor gave it a cave like feel, clearly unchanged from earlier days. They served several home pressed cinders and meat pasties (I had both) and there was a large crowd of happy revellers dancing to some proper English folk music. It was an absolute dream come true at the end of a long day. I went outside to drink my cider and wait for my pasty. A sort of strange looking guy I had seen making his way through town as I had been was there. I talked with him for a bit but when I got my food I moved to a neighboring table next to a very handsome 20 year old. Sweet, at that age. But after 5 minutes of his boastful accounts of the climbing problems he was going to face and the sweet arret next to his amazing bivouac cave he would roll out of and onto the rock, I decided I'd really rather talk to the weird guy. He turned out to be not at all weird and Dimitri (names have been changed to protect the innocent) and his 'partner', Katie, invited me to stay at their place so I didn't even have to walk any more. A good thing as I was not that steady on my feet after 3 pints of strong home pressed cider. All and all a very happy close to the day. To top it off, Katie had lived in Eugene one summer in her youth during some 70's north american grand adventure and loved it (I think that connection was what really sealed my invitation) . Oh eugene, I heart you, giving me gifts though time and across space.
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