I'll take a printout of the weather forecast to the pub tonight and see what the concensus is.

No need to rush getting up this time. S was working in Oxford until midday, so we were meeting at junction 6 of the M40 a little after 12.30. A lazy get up, slice of toast for breakfast and pack a larger picnic than normal since this was intended to be a proper lunch rather than a take-the-edge-off-hunger snack. Two sets of liquid refreshments, one for lunch and the other for a half-time break, plenty of suncream and water (it promised to be a hot one) and we were ready.

Called in for P and the dogs, opened the estate car boot, and Dilly surprised no-one by jumping in the back, bouncing over the back of the rear seat and then into the driver's seat. That dog has a yen to drive, methinks! After encouraging her back out of the car, we got her and Sage back in the boot with P in the back seat to try to keep them there. They quickly settled once we were en route. The drive to our meeting point seemed to take no time at all, and we waited for all of five minutes or so for S to join us. From there, it was but a short drive to Crowell, and a right turn up past the Shepherd's Crook took us to a track that went up towards the Ridgeway and our intended end. Coward that I am, I only drove our estate as far as the point where the old railway line crosses the track; the road was very potholed and the car doesn't have much clearance. S&P's truck didn't even notice.

Ate lunch while admiring red kites. For some reason we'd seen more of these fantastic creatures than usual, slowly wheeling on unseen currents of air. After we'd pigged out on rolls (choice of cheese or paté), quiche, scotch eggs, pork pies &c., we packed up, piled into the truck and drove back to The Plough at Cadsden. This time the pub had a more welcoming look, with a small gazebo and umberellas on the outside tables. We decided not to stop and test it out, this was only the start of the walk after all!

We walked through the car park and followed the Ridgeway up through woodland towards Whiteleaf Hill. The path got incredibly steep as we ground our way up the scarp slope and it was a relief to reach the top. Once there, we took a slight detour to go and look at the chalk figure we'd seen as we drove towards Cadsden. P suggested it was Clint Eastwood as The Man with No Name (spaghetti western), but it was actually Whiteleaf Cross. A huge amount of work has been done up here, both conservation and research, and there's a set of boards giving the history of the place and telling you what you can see and their distances. It's thoughtfully provided in braille too, and there's good access for the disabled.

We left the cross behind and wakled along the ridge on a well-made path to the road and a car park. We crossed the road, all on easy-access ramps down to the road and back up the other side, and continued on past woodland and an odd hut/refuge. We thought perhaps it might be used by Boy Scouts or someone as a camp. We left the wood behind and walked towards Kop Hill, where we turned right and started to head down towards Princes Risborough. As we walked on we were afforded a fantastic view out over the town, and towards the bottom we could look back at Whiteleaf Cross. A left turn at the bottom took us along a tree-lined track around the southern edge of Princes Risborough. This part of the Ridgeway coincides with the Icknield Way, crossing Brimmers Road and then following the A4140 south before turning right at Shootacre Corner and skirting south at Hemley Hill. The two Ways diverge here, with the Icknield Way following the minor road west and the Ridgeway continuing south through a field planted with wheat. Dilly kept rushing off down the furrows and then jumping up to see where we were as we headed towards the railway lines. We crossed the bridge over the first one, then headed downhill towards the second and walked over on a crossing, looking carefully both ways before venturing across with both dogs very firmly on leads.

We followed a hedge-lined path through Princes Risborough golf course, stopping to admire the view at a water hazard. (Don't tell anyone, but Dilly and Sage were hot so they went for a quick swim. It was some distance from fairway or green or whatever they call it, so no harm done I hope.) From there it was a gentle uphill until we came to the edge of the nature reserve on Lodge Hill, where it turned into another serious uphill grind. We stopped in the shade on the edge for a bit before tackling the steep slope, and promised ourselves a half-time break in the shade at the top.

After the break we came out of the scrubby woodland into the open and along the ridge before a gentle descent towards Wigan's Lane. After crossing the lane we walked through a large field with a notice telling us to beware of the bull; sure enough, there was a huge black bull, sitting in the middle of the field surrounded by similarly-coloured cows and calves. (Beef stock rather than dairy?) We carefully kept to the edge of the field making sure we never came between the bull and one of his calves, and acheived the far side without incident.

After that a track wound around the edge of The Cop and Wain Hill, in or on the edge of woodland, before turning into the straight that runs past Chinnor. Once over the B4445 we were in amongst the disused chalk pits, huge, immensely deep diggings that were the source of raw materials for the defunct cement works. The picture really does not do the pits justice; steep-sided and (we estimated) about a hundred metres deep with water only at the very bottom, if you fell in you'd never get out unassisted. Sobering thought.

We carried on in an almost-straight line, between the various pits, until we came to the track where the estate car was parked. With farewell to the Ridgeway until next time, we headed back towards Crowell and the car. From there, we (lazily) drove to the Shepherd's Crook in Crowell, a lovely little pub with a pleasant green and a fabulous-looking fish menu. One drink as a refresher, and we were on our way home with a promise to ourselves we'd be back for some fish one night soon.

RB

If anyone out there in blogland is in touch with any weather gods, I'd really appreciate you putting in a good word for us!

Casting concerns about my mental state aside for the moment, it looks as though this dire weather may brighten just in time for Stage 3. This far ahead, it's difficult to say exactly when but the Met Office seem to think we'll have rain first thing Sunday and then it should clear. Fingers crossed, eh?!

However, it isn't yet set in stone. I'll check the forecast again tomorrow, and if it looks more promising, some discussion with the rest of the crew will be in order. I'm not holding my breath though, this is a bank holiday in Britain we're talking about!

Of course, there's plenty of time for it to change between now and then...

The real purpose of this post is to tell you that I've been thinking deeply over the way I've broken up the route. In most cases, I've included walks to/from the cars, a couple of stages are 10 miles of Ridgeway and the final stage is only 4.5 miles. In a Spockian moment I realised this was on the daft side of logical; 8 miles is a comfortable walk so 87 miles of path could be broken down into 11 more-or-less 8 miles stretches. And we've been finding that it's not all that difficult to park much closer to (and in some cases at) the start and end of the Ridgeway section rather than walking extra mileage to and from the cars. So I spent some time with my trusty piece of string and an OS Explorer map (171 if you must know).

Stage 3 is fine as it is. We can park at the start, and I'm fairly certain we can park at the end, and it's already an 8 mile section of Ridgeway. No, it's Stage 4 that's been worrying me; 10 miles of Ridgeway, and from what information I can find the pub at the end is now more of a trendy bistro-type restaurant than a drinking establishment for weary travellers. Don't get me wrong, I'm as fond of eating in trendy bistro-type restaurants as the next foodie, but it's not really appropriate to the circumstances. So the logical thing to do is cut a couple of miles off the planned walk and then (having parked at least one car at walk's end) drive to a nearby pub-type pub. Instead of walking all the way to Nuffield Common, I'm proposing we walk as far as the entrance to Swyncombe House (grid ref SU 683 904) and then go find a drink, probably in the Five Horseshoes in Maidensgrove.

So when we're all settled with a drink after Stage 3, I'll put this proposal to the rest of the crew and see what they think about it. If they agree, I'll update the plan and have a look at the next stage while I'm at it.

S phoned around 10.30 just to say that she'd also realised the same thing. I nearly called back not long after midday to talk about where we'd have got to when it started coming down in stair-rods. Walking in that kind of rain is definitely not a fun thing to do.

Up early again - at least, up early for a Sunday. So early that the hot water hadn’t come on and neither MrBlogger nor I remembered to put it on when he went to get our customary cup of tea in bed. So it was a chill-to-cold shower to start the day followed by a hot bacon buttie and another hot cup of tea to try to warm through. This week’s picnic consisted of an onion and cheese tart, spicy chicken wings and small rolls with cheddar, roast Hereford beef and gammon ham. I added in some bottled beer and a hip flask, and this time a small flask of Bacardi and coke for S, who doesn’t really drink beer. Water bottle, sun hat, sun cream and...waterproof jacket. It had been raining the night before. The weather forecast had promised that it was unlikely to rain but I wasn’t sure I believed it, especially when I looked out at the leaden sky.

S & P turned up in the truck and we set off toward Princes Risborough to park up the Audi. We managed not to get separated through Wallingford this time, and arrived at the walk’s end together. After some discussion, rather than parking in the lay-by type affair at the top of the hill (and in the middle of nowhere), we decided to park at the end of the lay-by where the Ridgeway crosses Cadsdean Road. As chance would have it, there was a pub at the bottom of the lay-by called the Plough at Cadsden, more of which later. Then we all piled in the truck and I spent another journey sitting under Dilly while we made our way to Northill Wood. We found the start of the walk and parked on the verge right next to it, all piled out and sorted out bags, boots and leads.

The first part of the walk went through a meadow towards Hengrove Wood. At the entrance to Hengrove Wood, a sign proclaimed it was 2.7 miles to Wendover. After Hengrove Wood we cut through the edge of Wendover Wood and over the road into Hale Wood, where the bluebells carpeted the ground under the trees. We were pleasantly surprised to find a drift of ramsoms (wild garlic), and picked a couple of leaves to chew at while we walked. After that it was on through Barn Wood and onto Hogtrough Lane at the very edge of Wendover, from where we could see a large building with a truly amazing array of solar panels. Hogtrough Lane brought us to Church Lane and the back of St. Mary’s, a mostly 14th-century building with a simple and pleasing design. The lych-gate was particularly lovely and my photograph doesn’t do it justice, which is why you won’t be seeing it here.

Church Lane led into Heron Path, a delightful walk away from the road along a beautiful mill stream. Whilst Dilly and Sage took advantage of the easy access to nice, clean drinking water, we watched the uplifting sight of a moorhen leading her chicks across Hamden Pond on the other side of the path. A heron was fishing off the island in the middle, but he was too far away to catch with a camera. Walking up Heron Path brought us to the High Street in Wendover, a road with several excellent pubs. In fact, you’d have to work quite hard to find a poor pub in Wendover, but we did it. Instead of stopping at the Red Lion (an ancient coaching inn full of character) or the White Swan (Fuller’s, yum), we kept going to the top of the hill and the Shoulder of Mutton. I’m sure it used to be a good pub, but it’s now a Chef and Brewer so is mostly chain-pub-grub with very little space for drinking. In its favour there is a very well kept garden perfectly suited to walkers, but had the weather been colder or wetter, sitting indoors would have been awkward. Having got that far, we stopped for a quick refresher anyway and then moved swiftly on.

After the stop, the path followed the road until it turned to the right, where the Ridgeway went to the left and on up Bacombe Hill, a chalky scrubland outcrop. S and I were less than impressed with the lack of chairlift up the steepest bit and swore we’d never come to this ski resort again. MrBlogger and P (and Dilly and Sage) didn’t seem to think it was a problem, and were miles ahead by the time we’d managed the steep slope. We were rewarded at the top with a fabulous (albeit slightly hazy) view out over the Aylesbury Hundreds. From there it was a gentle but continuous grind upward toward Coombe Hill and the monument. The monument is dedicated to those who lost their lives in the Boer War (1899-1902). Just past the monument was a convenient bench, so we stopped for a halftime beer (or Bacardi and coke) and a breather. P claimed he could see Didcot power station, but despite screwing my eyes up and staring hard, I couldn’t make it out. We could, however, see right down into Chequers, a Jacobean manor given to the nation by Arthur and Ruth Lee in 1921 for the serving Prime Minister to use as a country retreat.

Suitably rested we walked up Lodge Hill and into Linton’s Wood and a huge patch of ramsoms. Linton’s Wood gave way to Goodmerhill Wood, where we spotted some seriously interesting fungi on fallen tree trunks, probably birch polypore and king Alfred’s cakes but I’m no expert. Around a corner we walked past a slew of bluebells including some that had grown in an old tree stump, making a very pretty sight. From there we walked down and crossed the road at Buckmoorend and walked almost right past Chequers. Quite literally: the Ridgeway goes through part of the estate and crosses the driveway up to the house.There’s a sweet little gatehouse at the end, lots of cameras and sinister signs warning folk to stay away. Apart from a stopping to take a couple of pictures (how could we not?), we kept on until we reached the edge of Maple Wood. The path winds around the edge of the wood, affording the occasional further glimpse of Chequers as you go, until it swings around the end of Maple Wood and onto Cradle Footpath. This took us through some more scrubland, where Dilly scented a water trough and made a beeline for it. After a couple of sips she decided to simply jump in, much to our startlement! Sage, an altogether more sedate girl, drank daintily from the edge of the trough.

Cradle Footpath took us past Great Kimble Warren and Chequers Knap and on into Butts, from where even I could see Didcot power station in the far, far distance. Coming down from Pulpit Hill, a very startled rabbit shot across the path as if it was flying, but neither of the girls were even bothered by it. Cowslips were scattered prettily across the sward to either side, a lovely sight. On down towards Cadsdean Road and we stumbled on a rash of forget-me-nots shortly before reaching the road and the Plough.

I promised more about this. We had intended to go to the Red Lion at Whiteleaf as I had been unable to find any recent information about the Plough and thought it might have been closed down. Let’s face it, the rate of pub closures in this country is frightening, and even if you can find information less than a few weeks old you’re still not guaranteed that the hostelry in question will be open. However, it was clearly very open and had a lovely garden area with wooden benches and a butler sink (with plug and tap) for dogs. So we went there for a couple of beers (Greene King, sadly) and a sit down in the sun. Then it was back to the car, a quick picnic and on to collect the truck. Dilly tried hard not to fall asleep in the back of the car and very nearly managed.

Truck duly collected we wended our way back, slowly and carefully as we were all quite tired. We stopped off at our local for a couple of drinks, threw mountain bikes in the back of the truck and went on to S & P’s for a very lovely dinner a la plancha. Before we fell asleep, MrBlogger and I got on our bikes and slowly drifted down the hill to home and (a very welcome) bed.