Stick #1
Stick No1 - 1st journey.
The ideas for stick No1’s first journey came whilst walking in Pengelli forest in West Wales. Often when the body moves the mind moves and walking often brings ideas to the fore. I imagined myself to be a Dormouse looking to travel, but wondered about ease of movement. Conversely humans have developed complex and efficient transport networks enabling us to move from one place to another, usually degrading wildlife habitats in the process. Extending Ecotones, wildlife corridors, in essence a road network between habitats would create a more sympathetic landscape for wildlife and people.
Researching Dormice, Ecotones and the interface between habitats I began to consider a purpose and route for what would become the first of the walk-with-me journeys. The focus for the walk centred on building and mapping an imaginary ecotone between Cardigan and the Swansea area. Cardigan could be said to be the furthest westerly habitat in Britain for Dormice, the next population centre we believe exists in the Swansea area. I set out with the aim to travel as a Dormouse mapping the territory, obstacles and potential solutions to breaks in the woodland / hedgerows that link Cardigan and Swansea. After completing the walk I put together a series of photographs, drawing and thoughts in response to my experiences.
The rout coincided with the site of the First Eisteddfod, Cardigan Castle in 1176 (Welsh cultural event) and the site of 2006 National Eisteddfod in Swansea. An annual cultural event travelling Wales bringing together a network of communities and individuals. Stick No1 was abandoned at the Eisteddfod hopefully to begin another journey with a different walker!
This is one of my regular walks from Rheidol Falls up about two miles at most through the Rheidol valley about 10 miles east of Aberystwyth. The walk ascends above the river slowly with most of the path along the way enclosed by woods, but with a section looking over a couple of open fields where there are occasionally cattle grazing.
In the field is a picture postcard small house, the kind you would expect to find in the story of Hansel and Gretel, but rather less sinister. The house has a small metal chimney from a wood burner, which often puffs out comforting smoke across the field.
I have walked this path many times over the past few months since my partner and I moved to the valley. We have a dog who is only a few months old, well, a year now and its been fun watching her grew in confidence and speed running up and down the path.
I took the walking stick up the valley a few times in August after picking it up at the Eisteddfod tent where I had been working for the Visual Arts Pavilion. On this particular day I had’nt intended to go walking, the afternoon began as a kayaking lesson from my sister. In August it had started to rain and has’nt stopped since for any considerable time. This is great for kayaking but horrible for doing much else. My partner’s best friend had his brother and sister and partners up from Devon for the weekend and wanted to do something exciting with them (my partner and his friend are dare devil outdoor boys: kite surfing, mountain biking down huge vertical switch backs that give me the shivers).
They settled on gorge walking up the valley above Devil’s Bridge, a well-known tourist spot because of the hundred foot waterfalls. Gorge walking, to those who haven’t come across it, is when you dress up in wetsuits, buoyancy aids, helmets and ropes and literally jump, swim, wade and scrabble down a river. It’s great fun when you know what you’re doing.
I was cross with my partner that afternoon because he didn’t want me to go gorge walking with them I think he thought I’d spoil his fun (I’m very safety conscious!) so I settled for practising capsizing my new boat at Rheidol Falls with my sister at the location they were supposed to come out of the river.
You can probably guess what’s coming but the long and the short of it was that they didn’t come out, at least not when they were supposed to. They had set off late, ill-equipped and with only two hours of light to go down a 3-4 hour section. Inevitably they were caught in the dark having missed the get out and were stuck on a ledge in the gorge above where the river dropped into the valley above Devil’s Bridge.
By ten o’clock the police had been called and slowly a search party was brought together in the rain and the dark to find them. Luckily the evening wasn’t too cold otherwise they would all have had hyperthermia. I called a friend to keep my company and some of the other gorge walker’s family and us waited and waited in the dark until at 1.30am they were found. At this point Brecon Beacons Mountain Rescue was called and the RAF from Anglesey.
At 3.30am we were scrambling up the path to the falls in the dark with our torches to watch the rescue. We watched with awe the rescue teams shining lights across the valley and the huge sea king helicopter winch the bedraggled gorge walkers out through the rain and dark.
By 6am all the gorge walkers were in casualty enjoying a cup of tea whilst we hugged, laughed and scolded them out of their wetsuits. I never thought I would see such a dramatic rescue in the valley, especially with people I loved in danger and watching the helicopter take off in the field by the Hansel and Gretel house will be something that I remember for a very, very long time.
I have taken the stick to Ceredigion Museum and left it so that someone else can take it on another journey.
Comment by Alice Briggs — October 20, 2006 @ 11:26 am
I stole the stick from Gwenllian Ashleys office at ceredigion museum on 20th February 2007. My birthday. To celebrate being 53 I decided to walk home to Borth starting from the promenade in Aberystwyth. Over Constitution Hill at four o’clock and heading north I worked my way over to Clarach Bay then took the lower level below the cliffs all the way back to Aberwennol and Borth. Racing against the tide and the darkness I managed to get back by six o’clock when it had just started to rain and get very dark. The walk was difficult due to my wearing the wrong type of footwear and I it was foolish to do such a journey without informing anyone of my location. I could so easily have been cut off by the tide or damaged myself on the rocks and pebbles which were incredibly slippery. The stick was a driving force and good companion especially in keeping upright! My thoughts were mainly of haste and danger and I was constantly aware of the forboding cliffs. Occasionally large quantities of earth slipped down from the cliff tops and there was the occasional rockfall too. I saw no one on the whole journey.After leaving Clarach Bay and the relative civilisation of the place I felt very near ‘the edge’ of the land and sea in a sort of timeless space. There is a dark and primitive feel to the rocks and structure of this part of the coast. It makes you feel small.
Comment by stuart evans — February 21, 2007 @ 3:01 pm