I asked myself on the way out of the door ‘What is it I like about walking’? I try to leave the house now with a question, whether walking, riding or surfing. It’s a great exercise to take your mind off things; if you need to that is. This morning we awoke to a beautiful late February morning, with crisp clear skies, accompanied by a fresh and chilly North East wind. A perfect morning for a loop around Porthgwarra with the hound.
As I walked I noticed the overwhelming silence of being outside away from the village, the roads, the farm machinery and chatter of normal day life. But the silence was broken as I left the seclusion of the bridleway by the the breeze that was cool to say the least. As I dipped out of its reach on the coast path I had moments of shelter, but it swiftly came back to bite as I rose to the top of the climb above Pendower Cove. The Cornish Choughs grabbed my attention with their distinctive call and I might be wrong but I always seem to see them in pairs. As they glide down the steep face of the grassy land, towards the sheer drop to the seemingly swell less of the ocean. There were white water indicators of some small wave presence on the rocks off Carn Barra, but not in the way the big winter swells hit the rocks hard and make that unmistakable crash, then open up and peel across this bay in a lumpy disorganised winter and disruptive manner. In the distance there is a yacht heading North, and I can spot the wind in her sails. Full of wind the shapes of the sails are brilliant white in the morning sun. As she nears Lands End, the head wind will be waiting when she turns North, and then the tack game will begin. The slow slog forward in small angled increments. I remember this as a child when my Father would take us sailing, and it seemed like the most frustrating time being a sailor. Myself and my dog, Kylo, a freshly stripped Border Terrier, took shelter behind the granite pillars of Carn Barras and I watched him just explore. What can he see? Then realised he'd spotted two labradors and a pointer. The game was on. Will he make a run for them? Surprisingly no. He took a better vantage point, but stayed near. We sat for a while enjoying the calm out of the wind, but it came time to move on.I could have sat there all day basking in the winter sun, but we had to press on. We rejoined the well trodden coastal path, again in the direction of Gwennap Head and Kylo got his chance to play with a young pointer. His owner, a local lady from Porthcurno, we chatted for a while about the weather and our dogs, as this seems like a common bond with dog owners, and you see so few people out this way, this time of year it’s always nice to just stop and chat nothingness, and hopefully make a difference to their day and mine. As we went our separate ways I thought Kylo would prefer the play of another canine than mine, but he surprised me yet again and after just one whistle, he came running, bribed by a dog treat. As we walked on, a flock of birds rose and fell repeatedly from the heather, the wings flapping with a pleasant sound. At this point I wanted to know what they were, I had no idea. Curlew? Pluvers? I know they weren’t starlings. If I paid more attention sometimes then I’d know. I recognise the Chough, the call and the red beak, the various Hawks, Kestrels and Owls, in fact on this same walk a few years back, there were a huge amount of Red Kite in the area. But today, all I want to know is what these birds are? Here's my question for next time. The turning point of the walk is the gate at Carn Guthensbras, just across the way from the Coast Guard Station on Gwennap Head. At this point I turn and head down along the stone hedge and back, hence the way I came. This is sort of my outward loop across the moorland, and away from the coastal path. Away from anyone. Here it becomes silent again, just myself and Kylo. The walk back is when I get to do my thinking, and come up with the answer to the question. As I went back along the narrow bridleway to my van, past the derelict barns, and holiday let, which seemed empty and cold, through the odd muddy puddle, cursing Kylo as he went straight through the middle. Past the daffodils, and alongside the freshly ploughed fields with just an inch of new growth showing on the crest; I stopped and admired the computerised perfection of a modern tractor, and that's when I thought of all this stuff that you’ve just read! Question answered, I got home, put my feet up, drank tea, ate crumpets, grabbed my grumpy teenage son, got on my bikes, and did the exact same loop on two wheels. But this time, no questions were needed.
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AuthorHi, I'm Russ Pierre, a Cyclist, Surfer and outdoor enthusiast. Please join me as I have some fun on my adventures and write about all the stuff that makes me tick. Archives
October 2023
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