Quiet contemplation and musings on manure, plus more dispatches from England, Wales

^{Editor's note: Follow along TOC Senior Editor Hank Sartin's 275-mile trek across England and Wales via updates from ramblinghank. Read more of Hank's updates on his blog or here in the upcoming weeks.}

Day 3: I am a happy wanderer

_{Originally posted Sept. 8}

The day started off with, shock of shocks, a rapid ascent to the very top of Cleeve Hill. This would be like climbing all 17 floors to my office with a 20 pound pack. But once you hit the top of the hill, it’s all downhill for a while, since this is the highest point on the Cotswold Way. Making the experience more surreal are the combined facts that the top of Cleeve Common is dedicated to a rambling golf course and that sheep nonetheless graze here. (“How do you score “my golf ball was eaten by a sheep on the third hole?”) Continue reading ...

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Day 4: Notes from the road

_{Originally posted Sept. 8}

Another day rambling (and they really do call it that here—I’ve seen parking lots along the trail designated as “parking for ramblers.” Leave your car and, you know, ramble), another series of ups and downs, another round of songs , whose lyrics I can only partially recall. Oh, and I crossed the halfway mark for the Cotswold Way (which is, less encouragingly, the 2/11s mark for my whole trip. yikes). Continue reading ...

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Day 5: Of honey, golf and horses

_{Originally posted Sept. 10}

I started off the day with cereal (I’ve given up on eggs and bacon after a few days of it—it seems like a good idea, but you taste it in eggy burps on the trail for hours. Ugh) and toast with honey harvested by my B&B host. A far finer meal than the salmon pasta bake at the local pub (what was I thinking?). Even my host acknowledged that the pub is a bit dodgy. But not before I’d gone there, alas. Should have gone to the Food Coop and bought a sandwich, as I did the night before. Continue reading ...

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Day 6: Quiet contemplation and musings on manure

_{Originally posted Sept. 11}

With all my earlier talk of singing while I walk and moments of bliss, you may be imagining me as some sort of wandering minstrel, crazy and cheerful and chattering away to myself. It’s not always so. Today I was in a less vocal mood, just letting my mind wander and taking the time for a bit of quiet contemplation. The advantage of walking alone, of course, is that you can say almost nothing for a whole day and no one worries that you’re so quiet. Continue reading ...

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Day 7: I have achieved Bath

_{Originally posted Sept. 12}

There’s a wonderful spring I get in my step on the last day of a walk, when all the miles seem to earn a meaning in completion. To go back to my early theme of counting and not-counting, this is another example of counting lending itself to good feelings that feel like they are not simply about score-keeping. If yesterday was contemplative, today was something more like amiable moving toward joyful, but all layered over a sense of self-satisfaction. We’ve made self-satisfied mostly a dirty word, indicating smugness, but I think it is worth having the term for its literal sense; for this day, I was very satisfied with myself and what I have done. Continue reading ...