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