Bristol to Bradford-on-avon

    

      A few years back, I had this idea for a personal challenge. How about running from my house in Southampton to either Exeter or maybe Cardiff? I was thinking of averaging 30 miles a day for 5 days. Obviously I would have to build some endurance for it.

       Stuff happened though. The biggest thing was a bike accident that left me with broken ribs and complex meniscus tears in my right knee. I was barely walking for 6 months.

I then moved to Cornwall. From there I moved to Devon. I came back to Southampton and ran shorter distances. I was loving running faster again and getting the pbs.

Then a move to Wales and then came the dreaded lock down and covid. I moved back to Southampton again and here we are, 6 years later and still no challenge.

   I have however, run and cycled parts of the course as recce’s. I decided that I would run to Wales as the Exeter route had more busier roads to navigate and I wasn’t keen on cliffs or coastal paths.

I have run from mine to Salisbury. I have run from Salisbury to Warminster. I have cycled the route up to Longleat and Frome. And now, I write about my last adventure.. running the opposite way from Bristol to Bradford-on-Avon.

        I got up pretty early and took a bus to the train station. It was a cold February morning. Did I have enough stuff to keep me warm?

I bought my return ticket to Bristol Temple meads, then headed over to Costa for a coffee. There was a queue. I had the privilege of listening to a Father and son conversation behind me. “Dad, can we sit down for 20 minutes, I’m tired” said the grumpy sounding teenager. “No, we’re getting take out” replied Dad abruptly. “Are you getting the breakfast deal?” The son inquired. “No” came the quick reply. “You may as well, it’s only £1.25 for a croissant”… “But I don’t want a croissant”. It felt a bit too early to be listening to this conversation but eventually, I got my coffee and was back at the station.

 
        Of course, the train was delayed. Not by much though. I found a seat and noticed that my GWR train didn’t have a table. Where was I supposed to put my coffee? First world problems eh?

I went through the screen shots on my phone of my various research. Train times, maps, road names etc.. I usually plan pretty well but it doesn’t mean that I don’t get lost a lot still. But, as my friend Laure used to say.. “You’re not lost until you want to go home”.

 

    It was almost a two hour journey as the rain poured down. I was thinking that I probably hadn’t picked the best day for it but I told myself that I had nothing else to do today. My arms were too achy to go climbing again. As the train came into Bristol, the sun appeared and was shining brightly to my delight.

    Ok, here goes. Backpack on, start watch. It’s still only 10am. Plenty of daylight left. Did I eat too much on the train?

Turn left and then left again over the river etc.. It wasn’t long until I got lost. I always find that getting into and out of towns and cities, the hardest to navigate. Too much choice of routes I guess. I didn’t read a sign properly and before you know it, I did a two mile loop and ended back at that same sign. I laughed at my stupidity and was glad when I found the Bristol to Bath railway path. From the NCN3 to the NCN4. This should be easy now right?

I had planned a route which was about 22-23 miles but you always have to add excess mileage on, just in case.. I was well aware that this could end up being a 30 miler.

 

    I had noticed that I hadn’t taken my longer shorts off. I had my running shorts underneath. Maybe I’ll wait until I get a bit warmer. This first bit of the Bristol to Bath path was a gradual climber I noticed. I overtook another runner and pointed out that this was all uphill. He just grunted in reply. There were a lot of unhappy looking commuters about today. I was like a happy Forrest Gump on my little adventure, saying hello and good morning to people with a broad grin. A lot of them just ignored me. City folk eh! I looked at my watch and worked out that about 3 miles of it had been climbing. If I ever get around to my 150 miler, at least this bit will be downhill into Bristol I thought.

 

I then passed Fishponds. My cousin used to live here and so did my friend Caroline when she was at Uni. A popular student area I guess. I got very drunk and played skittles in a pub, that’s pretty much all I remember. Onwards to Staple hill. I made it to be just over 7 miles until I got to Warmley. Obviously with my 2 mile detour, I could do the simple maths of 9 miles until my arrival.

     I loved the signs on the path. “Please ring your Bell”. “Toads crossing”. “Stay to your left”. One thing I observed with Bristol is.. Everything is either Grafitti’ed over sticker’ed over. Which is fine and adds character, but not when they do it to useful signs that are no longer legible. There were stickers of the infamous blue and red NCN4 signs on the lamp posts too. This one sticker looked like it was sending me off the main path to right though. I stopped in front of two dog walking ladies who were chattering away to try and squint at the sign on the lamp post. This caused a silence between them and their attention was now on me. “I’m trying to get to Bath. Do I go right here?”. “No, carry on love. Someone has put that sign on at a funny angle”. “Thank you”. I smiled and carried on which seemed like the obvious route anyway.

 

    I got to Warmley. It was just over 9 miles. There was a big tea room/cafe at an old dis-used railway platform. I used the toilet (which was a Dr. Who tardis) and decided that I would rest for a bit and enjoy a hot cup of tea. I was sweating but it was still pretty chilly out. I took some pics and tried to find my cousin’s phone number. She who once lived in Fishponds was now married with children and living in Warmley. To my surprise, I didn’t have her number and I couldn’t find her on social media either. I hadn’t seen her for about 3-4 years? It was a reminder to get in contact with her and pay a visit. I couldn’t help notice that I was near the Pomphrey hill parkrun course too. Maybe I would squeeze that in on a visit.

    I sat there drinking my tea in my longer shorts when an elderly lady walked by “You must be cold blooded!”. “You got the first bit right” I said. I now had my running jacket on again. “I’ve been running” I told her with a smile. “Maybe I should do some running?” She laughed.

 

  Not long after, I decided to do some more running. I figured that stopping every 8-9 miles would be a good idea to rest and take some fuel in. I had only taken a gel so far but ate on the train anyway.

I got to one of the dark tunnels, or so I had thought. I messaged my old mate Mike Mattingly the previous night to see if he had ever done the two tunnels. I was wondering if I needed a headtorch for these tunnels. He advised that I take one anyway, even if not sure. I put my head torch on and ran about a quarter of a mile through to the other side. Probably didn’t need the headtorch for that one but I read the bigger tunnel was just over a mile long! Would I get claustrophobic?

 

   I passed a few old railway stations including Oldland Common, Bitton and Saltford. I seemed to be struggling a bit here. I was about 12 miles in. The path was high up and it was long and straight. You could just see far ahead. A change in scenery was needed maybe? Maybe a few hills?

There were quite a few runners on this stretch. A girl doing her speedwork reps, a young boy marathon training? I caught up with this elderly running man. We struck up a conversation. I asked if I could run with him for a bit. It would help me take my mind off the tired legs.

He was a lovely guy. I think his name was Pete. He was 62 and started running at 50. He was training for Manchester marathon and had a PB of 3.27. It’s amazing what you can learn about a person in such a short time as we exchanged stories. His son also runs a 2.17 marathon. I thought I had misheard.. “I’m sorry, did you say TWO seventeen?”

    All the talking had left me not concentrating on my route. I was just telling Pete how easy this route was to navigate, so straight forward. You can’t get lost! We got to a road and I stopped him. “Am I going to right way?” I asked. “I don’t know, where do you want to go?” was his reply.

“I’m heading towards Bath”. He didn’t look sure. “I think you may have missed a junction back there, but I’m not sure”.

I said goodbye and wished him luck. I retraced my route where I saw a NCN4 sign. Looks like I went too far.

 

   About a mile later, I got to a sign heading back the way I came. I ran back to the NCN4 sign and realised the arrow was pointing the way I had already come from leaving Pete. I really should wear my glasses more! I hadn’t gone the wrong way at all and added on another two miles. 22-23 miles was looking more like 26-27 miles at this moment in time. It didn’t matter, I was in no rush and the conversation had left me in a much more upbeat and happier place. The legs and mind felt strong again.

 

   Anyway, I got about a mile and a half from Bath where I needed to leave the NCN4 and cross the river Avon onto the NCN244. Named the Two tunnels Greenway.

I wasn’t sure if I was running the right way for a bit, until I Stopped a runner. I slid in some mud when I came to halt and nearly fell over. She said to keep going. The tunnels route is straight ahead, “you can’t get lost” she added.

    On went the head torch again. I didn’t expect the two tunnels to be so far apart! It was a disappointment that the tunnel was only about a quarter of a mile long again. It was then that I worked out that the previous tunnel wasn’t even part of the two tunnels route! So, in fact, the two tunnels aren’t even on the Bristol to Bath railway path that I had thought. They were just on a short route called the Two tunnels Greenway. The short tunnel was called “The Devonshire tunnel” and the longer tunnel was called “The Combe down” tunnel. The Combe down tunnel was indeed over a mile long. It was dark but there were runners, cyclists and walkers going through with no lights or hi-visibilty clothing which I thought was a bit mad.

 

    Halfway through the tunnel, I heard the creepy playing of a violin. It was dark with a cold wind. You could just hear the odd drop of water hitting the pavement and my footsteps, but now this eerie violin.

It was coming from the walls and further down I could hear some percussion now accompanying the violin. Pretty neat! I didn’t get claustrophobic either. It was such a unique experience, running in the dark for 8 minutes. The light sure was bright at the end of the tunnel as my eyes squinted and adjusted to the light again.

 

Now I knew where I was. I had cycled to Combe down and Bradford-on-avon before. The tunnels were done and I would now follow the NCN24 for 5-6 miles to Bradford-on-avon.

 I was now desperate for water. I only took a litre bottle with me. Just before the Combe tunnel, I tried to urinate and my wee was very dark.

I was badly dehydrated. I didn’t want to be wee’ing blood so I needed water as soon as possible really. I needed to keep my kidneys happy!

I had also realised that 21 miles in and I had only had one gel and a cup of tea. I stopped at a pub in Monkton Combe. I couldn’t find a local shop but I enjoyed the warmth and rest of the pub.

I was held up at gunpoint. The landlord eyed me as I was looking down both barrels of his shotgun. £3.70 for half a cola and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps. I’m sure I was being robbed but smiled and sat down. At least I would get some tap water for my water empty bottle.

 

  The battery was getting low on my phone. I need a new phone. The battery life is rubbish nowadays. I had an email from the giant company ‘Walls’ saying they had sent me some vouchers in the post after I had found some cardboard in my Vegan Jumbo roll a few days earlier. I put my phone away but then I could hear it vibrating. My phone is always on silent and I hardly answer it. It was an unknown number but for some reason I answered. “Is this Dean Jones?” A woman asked. “Yeeees” I replied slowly, guessing it was probably a marketing call of some sort. “I want to offer you a job interview at Garmin”. Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I arranged the interview and ran on through the village of Monkton combe. There was a buzzard perched on a fence high up. Hey, I thought, she was there last time I came through last year. Then the penny dropped. It wasn’t even a real buzzard. It had a wooden block for legs! How could I not notice this. It made me laugh as I continued. Maybe time for another eye test.

 

    You go right through a college and onto a private road. I had just realised that I got lost here before. I didn’t see how, it seemed so straight forward and obvious. Probably did an extra 3 miles last time when I was cycling this route. The route takes you onto the Avon and Kennet canal path at Freshford. It was easy from here.

    It was only easy because I got so confused before at Avoncliff where you need to go under the bridge, cross the river avon and follow the path behind a house where it continues towards Bradford-on-avon. This section was muddy last time with lots of puddles to dodge. Today was no different. I had kept clean up until this point. The rain then came and it poured down pretty heavy for about 10 minutes. I was enjoying myself though and had just passed the marathon distance and was feeling good.

 

    I had a final stop in mind. The Mill cafe. They sold records and did nice Vegan cake the last time I visited. On arrival though it looked very dark inside the windows. To my disappoint it was closed. On closer inspection, it was only closed on Wednesdays too. Typical, I thought. It was a trip to the Co-op instead where I got a protein shake and some food. I should have really rushed to the train station as I was getting cold and had nearly an hour to wait for my train home due to me sitting around.

I was wondering if I had packed too much stuff to carry with me but now I wasn’t running, my body temperature dropped and the long sleeve and short sleeved extra t-shirts really helped. Along with the hat and gloves. I had also bought along a power bank to charge my phone but I had, of course, forgot to charge the phone bank and it was flat.

      It was a great adventure though and I loved it. I sat on the train heading home and reliving those moments in my heads as I watched a beautiful sunset from the train window in my sleepiness.

   Next time it will be Severn Tunnel Junction to Bristol. I will look into the route and hope to do it soon.

I did 28.6 miles in 4 hours but nearly 6 and a half hours had elapsed with my stops and all my photo taking. There was only 666ft of elevation on this route too. Thanks for reading. xx