Painswick Beacon, Cranham 29th March 2010

You'd have thought I would have learnt my lesson by now.  Or, more accurately, several lessons.  Don't completely ignore the weatherman when he says it will rain all afternoon.  They aren't always wrong.  Ordnance Survey and the road signs that tell you a hill is steep probably aren't lying.  Photographs from a mobile phone aren't as good.
Starting from the last lesson, sadly, I left the proper camera at home before leaving so pictures are, again, from the mobile phone so no zooming and dodgy light.  At least the latter can be altered afterwards.

I left the office in Hucclecote and the weather wasn't too bad.  A little overcast and a slight chill in the air but OK.  Now, trying to shake the tail end of a cold, a little unsure of how I'm going to get on I head out on Green Lane, through the walkway and onto Lobley's Drive, through Abbeymead and onto Painswick Road.  The thgeory being, if I am struggling here I can do a flat route; if I'm feeling good, a left turn will take me up to Painswick Beacon.  Feeling reasonably strong, I opt for the latter option.  Just a few hundred yards in, I notice the milestone here just outside the King's Head pub.  I presume that is a Roman numerals 3 not Arabic 111.  Harks back to a time when this was a major trade route, particularly if one happened to be a wool trader or miller on their way to and from Stroud valleys.  I am neither.

Maybe a kilometre or two further up and I learn the other two lessons.  The road is going up and the rain starts coming down.  The climb is a good 5Km.  About half way up, a brace of horseriders are coming down the hill and we cross.  They give me a cheery 'Good luck'.  I reply with what was supposed to be a cheery smile and wave although I fear may have appeared more like a grimace and flailing to stop myself falling off.  I opt not to speak favouring saving as much breath as possible.  After climbing some more, the road briefly levels off and offers some good views to the top of Painswick Beacon. Painswick is unusual in as much as the road runs more or less to the top of the hill and the top you can see is where we are heading.  You may also be able to see a the river of rainwater running down the road off the hill.  The road to the right you can see is the route we need, this is a shallow spiral to the top.

Cresting the hill takes you back down onto the Stroud Road passing the appealingly named Catbrain quarry, source of stone for many ecclesiastical buildings right up to, I believe, some of the more recent restoration work at the Cathedral and home to reclamation and stonemasons.  The other side of the beacon is a much flatter road heading towards Cranham and offering views across the valley.  I also notice that, thankfully, it has stopped raining.  The sun isn't shining but at least it is dry.



Another five minutes and we turn right into the village of Cranham.  I did intend to do the Cranham thing when I was in Sheepscombe but ran out of time.  And, in a way, I'm glad I did because this gave me a better opportunity to have a longer mooch around the village.  I may be making a lot of this up but in my imagination and the affects of watching too much TV, Cranham struck me as an extremely evocative village.  Let's start with some fact and pictures.  Cranham is home to the 17th Century Black Horse Inn which is constantly receiving excellent reviews as a country pub, ideally suited to its location on the Cotswold Way and a number of other walking routes.  I was unaware of this at the time, so no pictures, but opposite the Black Horse is Midwinter Cottage where Holst wrote the tune to 'In The Bleak Midwinter'.  Felt decidedly apt despite being the end of March.

Cranham Church is at the end of a narrow road across open grass land with a few houses dotted around.  It appears to be everything you would expect of a parish church.  Part of a united group of parishes that also includes Harescombe, Sheepscombe and Edge among others.  The church isn't as old as first appearances suggested, most of it having been built in the Victorian era, this is borne out by the tombstones and sarcophagi dating back no later than the 1860s.  The lych gate, indeed being even more recent having been built to honour the veterans and the dead from the Great War.

So to my theories and supposition.  The Painswick valleys and surrounding areas, are full of myth and superstition and I reckon Cranham and Sheepscombe epitomise this.  Cast your minds back a few hundred years if you will.  There is no religious representation and the churches are way ahead in the future.  The average person will live to maybe his mid 30s.  The witchfinder general is revered as authority.  And in a way, with only a little imagination, you can understand why.  The whole area is still surrounded by woods that with only a little suggestion could be construed as a bit spooky, how much more so when the populace is, at best, poorly educated and whose religion is based on superstition.  The woods would have been thicker, there would have been no roads and no lighting.  The whole area is surrounded by Iron Age remnants, including mounds and burial sites.  It doesn't take much imagination to see why this area by rumour became a haven for witchcraft and ghoulies.

The road out of Cranham and back on to the ridge is one of them nasty 1 in 8 uphills that I really shouldn't ignore.  On this ocassion, however, it is the mini oil tanker coming down the hill on a bend just wide enough for mu bike let alone him that causes me to get off my bike and push into the hedge.

Once on the ridge, an undulating road takes me back up towards Birdlip.  I choose to take the very downhill through The Witcombes.  Downhill should be OK you might think.  This downhill can easily get you up to 70KM/h without pedalling but with mud and less savoury deposits on the roads and some nasty twists you would have to be a braver man than me.  Witcombe drops you in to Brockworth and I decide to amble back through the trading estate.  In my memory, this estate was filled with heavy industry, indeed my step dad worked at Sauro building fire engines until he retired in the 90s.  Before that, it was the Gloucester Aircraft Company and airfield where Frank Whittle developed the jet engine.  Now it appears as a sprawling expanse with a mixed use of housing, supermarket, warehouses and offices that ties Brockworth and Abbeymead together.  Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike the estate, it has been done, in my opinion, quite well and that's a sign of the times that we don't have the call for heavy industry.  This here picture shows a view North across the estate with Chosen Hill/Churchdown Hill in the background.

Total distance - 25

Average Speed - 23 KM/h

Weather - about 10C, Rain, South Westerly wind.