Cooper's Hill is, of course, a 10. At one point, Tom looked down the hill in the forest where we were walking and said that it had a cheesitude of 8. After that we judged cheesitudes. Below is a picture of an awesome 10 on the cheesitude scale.
There was thunder and lightning last night. It even woke me up from a dead (I say, DEAD) sleep. Uh, oh, I thought, guess we're walking in rain tomorrow. But by morning, the sky was blue and it was already starting to heat up.
Ugh. It was hot AND humid. I was drenched before we had even gone a quarter mile. What's more miserable than rain? Sun. Even our friendly cool breeze had deserted us. I had to re-apply my sunscreen because it was dripping off my face. I thought, as I looked at how miserable Tom and I were, that only crazy people hike here in July.
We walked up to the first viewpoint. Below is a picture of what we could see from that viewpoint. I have christened the day smuggy. Smoggy and muggy.
It was more ups and downs. At breakfast our hostess asked us what we thought of The Cotswold Way. I answered too honestly and said I thought it would be more gently rolling hills with bunnies. (That's the Cotswolds to the east of here, by the way.) Tom said we were surprised by all the ups and downs. She was taken aback. "But you have the wonderful views," she said. Yep.
In fact, it is a great place to walk. The valleys are picturesque. The hills are cool and well-preserved. Anyplace that has sheep and walkers wandering around willy-nilly on their golf courses gets my vote. Just bring lots of blister packs.
As the day crept along, especially on the forest paths and up on the hills, the cool breeze made a comeback, fought valiantly with the warm breeze, and sometimes won. One-half of my face would be cool and the other half would be warm as the competing breezes swirled around.
As we came down (why, when we're only going to go up again) into a valley, I stared off into the distance. There was a hill. There was flatness everywhere else. Tom said, "We're going up that hill." Of course. He said, "It sounds sort of Chinese, Cam Long Down." Cam Long UP, I thought.
The hill was hiding a ridge. We and a bunch of cows walked the ridge. It was wonderful. The views were great because the smog had mostly cleared. We could see the village where we'd be staying. Those are the luckiest cows (for now, at least).
We got into town early enough that I drank a 7-UP, a pot of tea, and a half pint of ale before checking into our B&B. And I was still thirsty.
The 10 a.m. view versus the 2 p.m. shot of the valley. Smuggy versus not-so-smuggy.
There was a sign for falling rocks. Where? I thought. There were only trees and lots of dirt. After about a half an hour, this came into view. The land is rich with hidden rock. Quarries are everywhere.
Ominous trees with a message for walkers.
This is the trail. Do you think these trees are also trying to tell us something?
A barrow on one of the high hills.
This is a topograph. It points out how far away everything is, not counting the elevation. The Severn River is nine miles away, eighty-two if you count the ups and downs. The "cheesitude" of this hill was a 10!
These are such pretty steps, I said to Tom. By the third lengthy set of them, I was calling them These Fucking Steps.
Sun is great if it's on the other side of the leaves.
Contented cows.
Before and after. (Look, there's a hill surrounded by flat, flat land.)
Waiting in the pub next door for the B&B to open up. Do we care if it ever opens up?
In the forest something hopped past me. It was this tiny, tiny camouflaged frog. That's the tip of my walking stick for reference.
Rose hips, morning glory, and I-don't-know-what
Dursley, at last. It's a happening town. Two pharmacies. A large supermarket. A choice of tea places. Friendly people! Three people stopped us to talk about The Cotswold Way and to help us with directions, all within 15 minutes.
This is for Nancy.
This was our first sight of Dursley. Every town, village, and whistle stop has an old, old church. What's the oldest something can be in Portland. Exactly.
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