Tagged: deciduous
The recent lack of posts here is mostly due to my feeling very run down following having a couple of wisdom teeth extracted. Having had an emergency appointment yesterday1, hopefully I'll be on the mend now, though it does mean I'm on the kind of antibiotics where you can't touch alcohol for the whole of the Christmas period. I have tried to keep myself a little distracted from the pain by working on the nuts and bolts of this website—you should notice that the front page loads rather faster now than it used to, and that there's a shiny new statistics page that I'll probably be continuing to work on. Oh, and you should find that the tags below the photos are now clickable and will take you to a page of all other wanders that have photos with the same tag.
Today I felt like I needed to drag myself out of the house, but I didn't want to go too far, and I needed to get to the Post Office up in Clifton Village to post a Christmas card (spoiler for my parents: it's going to be late. Sorry.) As luck would have it, idly looking at the map I spotted that I'd missed off a section of Burwalls Road in the past, and that's basically one of the long-ways-round to Clifton Village, crossing the river to Rownham and walking up the hill on the Somerset side before coming back across the Suspension Bridge.
As I was heading for Burwalls Road I decided to make Burwalls itself the focal point of the walk, but unfortunately the mansion grounds are private and the place is hard to snap. Still, at least it gave me a destination. Burwalls was the mansion built by Bristol press magnate Joseph Leech, who I've mentioned before after buying a vintage book he wrote on a previous wander. There's a good article about the house on House and Heritage which has some photos from angles I couldn't ever get to. (Well, maybe with a drone, but it seems like the kind of area where they may be kitted out for clay pigeon shooting, so I probably wouldn't risk it.)
1 My dentist admitted that she probably needed to keep her internal monologue a bit more internal after we started the appointment with her staring into my mouth and immediately saying, "oh, that's weird." These are words one doesn't want to hear from a medical professional.
There's a few tracks in Leigh Woods that lie within my mile and show up on my map but that I've not walked yet, so I decided to take one of my traditional big long walks through the woods on this nice crisp sunny morning.
For years—decades, even—I've been doing a similar route from my place, along the towpath to the far woods entrance, up the hill for a varied walk on one of the marked tracks and then across the Suspension Bridge to Clifton Village for a coffee-based reward. It's my default "long walk", really, and I almost always enjoy it. Today, at last, spring actually seemed to be springing, which made for some extra positivity...
Approaching what amounts to the "main road" through Leigh Woods, that runs along the crest of the slope down to the towpath.
I knew that bits of the Purple Path in the woods were on my map but as-yet-unwalked, so I figured I'd do the loop. I couldn't easily check any maps as Leigh Woods is pretty much a black spot for mobile data. That's one of the reasons I like it, really: you're surprisingly out-of-touch in these woodlands. A shortish walk out of the city and you're in a forest with no access to Instagram or Twitter or what-have-you.
One of my two favourite trees in the woods, the other being the giant redwood in the Leigh Court arboretum area.
I didn't really set out with a theme of flowers and gardens in mind for this walk. I just fancied heading up to Clifton Village to get lunch. As it turned out, though, Spring was springing, so a minor theme emerged as I started off with the graveyard flowers of Hope Chapel and wandered up to see the beginnings of the new wildflower garden at Clifton Hill Meadow.
I managed to go for a wander a while ago that was meant to finish off a little tangle of paths in Leigh Woods, or at the very least finish off my wandering of the Purple Path there. And I managed to miss doing either of those things through some kind of navigational incompetence.
Today I woke up with a bit of a headache, feeling a bit knackered as soon as I dragged myself out of bed, but at least with the energy to realise that I'd be better off (a) going for a walk in what looked likely to be the last of the Jubilee weekend sunshine than (b) moping around the flat until it started raining, at which point I could mope more thoroughly.
I had a look at my map, considered going to Ashton Court, but remembered that there was a music festival there today, and instead found these little leftovers of Leigh Woods and decided to have one more try at walking them.
If it's rained for a few days in a row in Leigh Woods, some of the lower paths can get pretty muddy; in some past years I've even had to turn back and find another route, given that I mostly just wear ankle-high walking shoes. Today wasn't too bad.
There's a viewpoint "Quarry 5 Viewpoint" marked somewhere along here on OpenStreetMap. I think pretty much all the viewpoints on this stretch have gradually been overcome by forest growth. Here you can just make out the cliffs on the far side of the gorge through trees.
At this point I had gone back and forth a fair bit, following my little satnav pointer, including heading down a couple of paths only to come straight back up them once I was sure I'd completed the un-done parts of the track.
I was a little weird, following this complicated little route. I felt a bit like a bee doing the waggle dance, or something.
Another day not dissimilar to my last wander: I'm feeling a bit tired and rather than just moping around the house I thought I'd find some tiny bit of somewhere that I'd not yet walked and get outdoors. This time I headed for the Tobacco Factory Market in Bedminster, as I often do, but went the long way around via Ashton Court Mansion as I knew there were some footpaths and a small section of road I'd not ticked off up there. Finishing all the Ashton Court footpaths will be quite a long job, but you've got to start somewhere...
I did feel rather better by the time I got home, and, pretty much astoundingly given the weather forecast, managed to avoid the rain completely.
Well, it's giant, it's got a definite red hue and it's made of wood. I wonder what it could be...
A batch of giant redwood seeds arrived at the Veitch nursery in Exeter in 1855, and the Smythe family bought quite a few of them, apparently. Many of the sequoia around Bristol date from around then, including the lovely tree in Paradise Bottom in Leigh Woods, which would then have been Leigh Court's arboretum.
I got a bit distracted by a tempting little entrance into a little network of paths in the little patch of trees just north of the UWE campus. There wasn't much of note in there.
It's been a long while since I did one of these walks.
I'm thinking of finishing up the project by walking one or two last bits of road, thus being able to declare with all honesty that I've done my best to walk every public road within my mile (and quite a few alleyways besides.) As a prelude, and just because I felt like it, I decided to drag out the camera and GPS on this little wander to the local shops.
I did take a couple of other pictures of zigs and zags in the Zig Zag, but they didn't turn out too well; possibly my hands were shaking too much from the exertion of climbing this violently steep old track.
An enormous walk today, or at least it felt enormous. My feet are sore, anyway. I started off recreating a couple of local historical photos in Hotwells, but then headed for my traditional walk along the towpath in the Avon Gorge to the far extreme of Leigh Woods, up and through the woods to the height of the Suspension Bridge, finally crossing into Clifton Village for a well-deserved vanilla latte.
I say "traditional" because this used to be a very regular route for me, first walking, years and years ago, and later jogging—this route combined with a circuit of the Downs on the other side used to be my way of making sure I was fit to do a half-marathon (I did six of them in total, between 2010 and 2014).
I miss the routine of this walk, even though it's a long way and it used to pretty much wipe me out when I did it—I'd come back home and collapse and do very little for the rest of the day. But perhaps that's what Sundays are for, and I should try to remember that.
Doing this walk regularly was quite a meditative experience. Not so much of that today, but once I got to the further extreme of the towpath, where the roar of the Portway traffic on the other side of the river dwindles and I turned into Leigh Woods to climb ever closer to birdsong and further from rushing cars, I did seem to recapture a little of the feeling of previous walks. (I would say my mind cleared, but I was mentally singing along to Life Without Buildings' The Leanover for most of the wander. There are worse songs to have stuck in one's head, though; it's a great track...)
Anyway. Apparently the walk made me more likely to ramble in words, too. I'll stop now :)
This used to be nigh-impenetrable forest. I saw a deer here once, probably the only time I've seen a wild deer in Bristol, though I understand they're quite common.
I think this may be some of the non-native tree clearance mentioned in this Bristol Post article from September 2020.
Stephen Eyres, head of forestry and land management for Forestry England in West England, said: "This felling operation will significantly change the appearance of the Avon Gorge, for a while it will look stark and bare whilst it sits fallow for a year.
"It gives us a fantastic opportunity to replant next winter with native trees.
"We are very pleased to be able to plant a small amount of the Bristol Whitebeam, one of eight native trees of the genus Sorbus that are endemic to the Avon Gorge.
"This species has been carefully propagated from seed collected in the Avon Gorge specifically for us to replant here in Leigh Woods."
Tree surgeons will clear small areas of non-native trees such as red oak, Japanese larch and western hemlock, which have reached maturity.
