"Each step forward has a sacred meaning of its own"   Sri Chinmoy

Filton to Dyrham Hike - June 2025 - South Gloucestershire

With the first of my "training hikes" a really uplifting experience, I decided to press on and do some more as preparation for the big one - 45 miles across Wales - lined up for September. The first walk from the edge of Bristol through drizzle and occasional downpours to the Millennium Viewpoint on the edge of Bath had been a blissful experience, walking deeper and deeper into nature and history as each mile passed and conditioning my body for the long haul of the AWW. Hike number 2 was set to be in nicer weather, with fewer hills and more familiar paths, so I was hoping to get into a steady 3.5 mph and see if I could sustain that on the twisty/turny paths of the south west.

The start was home this time, a nice and easy proposition logistically, but it did mean the first mile or two were on tarmac as I took paths and roads that are usually my daily running routes, out from Filton into Harry Stoke and Stoke Gifford. The biggest challenge came when I tried to cross the big field which used to be a regular trail run route of mine, with paths on all three sides of its triangle - only to find it is now a building site and the paths are blocked by heras fencing. After some false starts and retracing of steps I found a heras panel that was unbolted, presumeably for the benefit of dog walkers, and I was back on track. I was just thinking how this area is getting more infilled and developed and the days of seeing roebuck leaping through the fields are probably over, when suddenly I startled one that leapt out of its hiding place in a small hollow and bounded majestically out of sight. An auspicious start to the trek.

After passing the stream (where I remember once seeing kingfishers) and cossing a usually-boggy field that was hard baked after so much sun and dry weather, I found myself at the packhorse bridge, a favourite haunt of mine. It's the best part of 3 centuries old, just wide enough for one person. Over the bridge I followed the stream down through a gulley to the Frome and from then on I was following the Frome Valley Walk for several hours.

There were few people around, just the odd dog walker and the even more occasional runner with a hydration pack, so I mostly had the serene trail to myself. The path crossed and recrossed the river, which was at low and slow summer levels, mostly though a wooded gorge that nicely shut out the suburban surroundings as I escaped the city and found myself deeper into farmland around the satellite villages of Winterbourne and Frampton,

The river itself was in a placid mood, languid and overhung with flowers and thirsty trees. Despite the near-drought early summer conditions everything on the banks seemed lush, while the fields were paler than you expect in June. It was reminding me of 1976 or 2020.

One of my early long runs was out on this trail, not sure if it was my first 10 miler or first 20 - either way it was 32 years ago roughly. There were hazy memories of my younger self running as I saw each landmark, the most dramatic of which was the railway viaduct on the approach to Frampton.

Not as old as the imposing Pensford viaduct I had passed under on the previous hike, this one was still impressive. It felt as it if was just old enough to have blended with the landscape and settled in as part of the scenery.

With the sun well up and the morning haze clearing it was getting hot, so I was reminding myself constantly to keep drinking (from a reservoir and tube, ultra runner style!) and kept clocking up the flat and easy miles on the Frome Valley Walkway. By now there was hardly anyone around, and very little sound other than the buzzing of insects and the occasional calls of the birds.

I stopped for a moment to watch an irridescent blue damsel fly drinking from a flower - it was a lovely moment that kind of encapsulated the summer. I took a few moments to note down a poem for Panorama (the magazing, not the documentary) as I had plenty of time to get where I was going and didn't need to plough on regardless.

Bristol's much-vaunted street art only rarely inspires me, but this bit of rural graffiti caught my eye.

Wild flowers and ceaseless sunshine just kept the mood of the hike tranquil even as I covered the ground at a decent pace.

Crossing the road at Frampton the coffee trailer I was hoping to see didn't materialise, so I pressed on and dug a few snacks out of my bag to make sure I didn't slow down.

Briefly the path followed the road, then cut back over the river deeper into the fields. I was into new territory now, further than any of my long runs and hikes on this trail in the past, coming to the edge of Yate where a brief urban interlude should take me to the Cotswold way and a climb up into the hills.

As part of this last leg of the familiar walkway though I found myself in the nature reserve around Algar's Manor, somewhere I remember walking with Kokila during lockdown.

A sharp shower encouraged me to stop and get my jacket on, then I had a long stint on quiet lanes into Yate. Here the river was little more than a stream and the surroundings were busier and decidedly urban. I could feel the change in my mind as I came out of deserted countryside and was surrounded once again by the sounds of human activity and the ether filled with human thought.

After some speedy walking on these urban trails I came to Yate's more traditional looking twin, Chipping Sodbruy. The new town is bolted right on to the next-door old town, with its wide high street and historic buildings. Here I had time to take a break, sitting on the wall outside Hobbs House Bakery eating a spinach and feta pastry and hydrating with coffee and juice. I gave Kokila a call to tell her what time I was set to arrive at Dyrham, the Arrivee for this hike.

Refuelled and buzzing from the coffee I made good progress out on the lanes and then back on to riverside (more like brookside at this stage) trails. Crossing some fields alongside the Frome upstream from Sodbury I did get rained on briefly but it cleared up pretty quick about the time I crossed the A-road that leads from Sodbury up on to the Cotswolds, finding my way along an old footpath through a new housing development then on to the Cotswold Way. Here the Frome Valley Walkway is no longer recognised, but the better known Long Distance Footpath does still stick to the banks of the river and follow it towards its source on the slopes of the Cotswold Plateau.

Old Sodbury church, a vantage point with great views, was on the horizon but I didn't pass it this time as I was heading south and east in a loop towards Dyrham and its palace of a stately home with exquisite gardens and grounds. An idyllic place to finish up but still many miles away and hilly miles too.

Soon I was climbing smooth, grassy slopes up into the hills, looking back on the Frome Valley. The air was sweet and the rain had cleared and it was slow, timeless summer again.

This landscape is a real english heartland, you really can't look at it or describe it without the word "quintessential" coming to mind.

Next I crossed a lane and followed the Cotswold Way signs into Dodington Park, where the Frome - close to its headwaters - was channelled through a formal garden and had a very different character to the river I'd followed out of Bristol.

I climbed again on smooth, sculpted slopes of sheep-cropped grassland, passing the actual source of the Frome just shy of the ridge where the A46 cuts through the landscape.

It felt as if there should have been something to mark the source - a shrine of some kind maybe? There were just rocks and a marshy depression in the field. Still, you could feel the presence of the source as a kind of sacred place.  

Over the highway (no traffic to speak of) I was up on the plateau for real and in that gorgeous Cotswold landscape that people are doubtless imagining when they head for the Cotswold Way. Fields, coverts, stone walls. I came through Tormarton with the houses all Cotswold stone, some of them thatched. Like most of the hamlets in the Cotswolds it seemed deserted and silent.

Next came a loop around fields and stoney paths over the plateau, not seeing a single soul. Even the lanes I crossed were deserted. If peace and solitude are your thing this is a great trail to hike. I was surprised as the Cotswold Way is well known and the Cotswolds are a big tourist destination. This must just be one of the quiet corners.

Finally I was crossing the A46 again - pretty darn busy here where the traffic between Bath and the M4 was intense - and heading down the slopes alongside Dyrham Park.

There were hazy views across Hinton towards Bristol. I nipped into the park and made for the car park, taking a half hour to read there (I always pack a spiritual book for these occasions) until Kokila appeared and we followed my epic hike with a short tour of the terraces and gardens.

The end of the walk came here, walking up towards Dyrham House through beautifully tended gardens.

I loved this one - a great feeling of exploration as well as a handy bit of LDW training. Here and there I did throw in a few hundred metres of jogging and there was no bad reaction. I clocked up 22 miles at 3.5 or more per hour so that augurs well the the AWW where I have 18 hours to get through 45 miles - but that will have some bog and mountain thrown in rather than sunbaked valleys and grassy slopes!

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