My apologies that the following ten paragraphs are in an unhelpful order.
The Canine Activity paragraph
I never found the WW1 memorial stone at Sharpenhoe Clappers because just before I reached it I encountered a group of young people with two dogs. I wasn't at all pleased when the bull terrier looked up and started running towards me, this essentially my worst nightmare when out walking. 'Nana!' cried the bloke sitting in a tree, at which the dog stopped advancing and just yapped a lot, which thankfully subdued my adrenalin burst. "She's friendly," he added, to which I replied it was hard to be sure of this within the first three seconds of contact and walked swiftly by. Imagine my horror on encountering the same group ten minutes later on the footpath I needed to follow to exit the site, their hounds all leapy, bouncy and overexcited. I held back and let them go first, advancing round the escarpment only when their noisy barking sounded far enough ahead, and thankfully managed a mile and a half into Streatley without encountering them again.
The Waymarked Trail paragraph
This particular part of the country is traversed by a number of long distance footpaths, mainly I suspect because contours are always a draw. Chief amongst these is the Icknield Way Path (a continuation of the Ridgeway National Trail from Ivinghoe Beacon to the Brecks in Norfolk) and another is the Chiltern Way (a 125 mile circuit of which this the northernmost tip). Perhaps most evocative is the John BunyanTrail, a loop linking many of the locations referenced in Pilgrim's Progress, because we're very much in the area where Bunyan lived and preached. It's said that Sharpenhoe Clappers was the inspiration for Mount Caution. I ended up walking about five miles of the Icknield Way, because why invent a new route when someone's done most of the hard work for you? You can see all of these paths, and how complicatedly they all link up, on the excellent Waymarked Trails website.
The Horse Racing paragraph
Harlington is a sweet little village once you get away from the railway and up towards the church on the green. John Bunyan inevitably visited the place, indeed preached regularly under an oak tree in a nearby field and was imprisoned at the manor house prior to spending 12 years in Bedford Jail. Itspubs are delightfully old with low-beamed character, and one had a particularly intriguing plaque which claimed that the first Grand National had been run here in 1830. Wikipedia disagrees, preferring Aintree 1836, although it does cede that the first recognised English National Steeplechase started in an orchard opposite this pub in Harlington and ran four miles to the obelisk in Wrest Park. So popular did the annual event become that it inspired William Lynn to stage a similar race at Aintree, which rapidly surpassed the Great St Albans Steeplechase, so think on that as you watch the horses tumble next weekend and blame a village in Bedfordshire.
The National Landscape paragraph
I hadn't realised this before but the Chilterns are no longer an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, not since last November, because the official nomenclature has changed. The new term we're all supposed to be using is National Landscape, as in 'this is the Chilterns National Landscape', ditto the Cotswolds National Landscape, the Surrey Hills National Landscape, the North Pennines National Landscape and the other 42. It's purely a rebranding exercise - in law they're all still AONBs - and all have been gifted dinky new logos to increase brand cohesion. The new name makes more sense if you compare it to National Park, a term we all use perfectly happily, but calling the second tier areas National Landscapes still feels bland, clumsy and strangely unfamiliar.
The Council Estate paragraph
A country walk has to connect to civilisation eventually, if that's where the stations are, which is how I eventually found myself trooping across Luton's outer suburbs with muddy boots. Primarily this meant Marsh Farm, a 1960s council estate with a reputation for rioting earned over two nights in 1995. I threaded up minor walkways between concrete homes, through muralled subways beneath feeder roads and past the ends of an inordinate number of cul-de-sacs. One thing that struck me was how bad the pavements were, not in terms of surface quality but in the way they didn't join up coherently as if the planners expected everyone would drive everywhere. Since I was last here exploring the source of the River Lea, I see the three landmark blocks of flats above Leagrave Park have gained funky vibrant blue cladding. On this visit I also realised you could easily plot the evolution of Luton's borough logo by rearranging some of the bins on Bramingham Road, but I'll spare you from that.
The Rail Ticket paragraph
How far can I get for less than £10, I thought? I'm aware that Thameslink fares at the weekend are particularly cheap so started by checking both north and south. It's not quite possible to get to Bedford or Brighton for under a tenner, the latter having slipped just beyond the threshold at the last fare rise. But Flitwick and Hassocks are still doable, both of which are 40 miles from central London so a pretty decent bargain. I should say this is using my Gold Card to buy a ticket from the boundary of zone 3, otherwise it'd be more like £15. I also researched the furthest I could get with other rail companies, all for nine pounds something, and it turns out travelling northwest out of London is unduly expensive. 20 miles: Hemel Hempstead (Northwestern), Great Missenden (Chiltern) 25-30 miles: Pitsea (c2c), Wickford (Greater Anglia), Marlow (GWR), Guildford (SWR), East Grinstead (Southern), Tonbridge (Southeastern) 35 miles: Baldock (Great Northern) 40 miles: Flitwick/Hassocks (Thameslink)
The Wonderful Wildlife paragraph
The wonders of nature are really why you come to the countryside, and they were indeed fabulous. Beech trees with shallow sprawling roots. Crows, robins and swooping birds of prey. A display of bluebells in a tiny wood between two ploughed fields. Light budding. Pink and white blossom in full glory or already fallen to the ground. Occasional squirrels. Horses in a paddock stalked by pylons. Roadside cowslips. Fields the colour of a muted sunset. Late daffodils. Tiny insects scuttling across the path. A bumble bee bobbing in the daisies. Unharvested stubble. A low-flying helicopter disturbing birds in the canopy. Red, white and brown butterflies. I also confess to saying "Hello Mr Fox" when a fox emerged from the undergrowth on Smithcombe Hill, and not unsurprisingly he swiftly withdrew.
The Underlying Geology paragraph
This being the Chilterns the bedrock is of course chalk. Its resilence is why the escarpment stands proud above the Bedford Plain and its weakness is why the ridge has multiple steep indentations. The only plainly visible outcrop was in a former quarry at the tip of the Sundon Hills, still scattered with chunks of white, while the undulating humps to the east remained covered with lush meadow. One of the largest gullies is Watergutter Hole, the name a reference to natural springs at the base, its steep sides densely smothered with trunks of beech and birch. The fun of following the Icknield Way is that it traces the rim of the ridge around all these contorted deviations, and the curse was that this path occasionaly degenerated into unavoidable mud and coated my boots in cloggy clay. Sharpenhoe Clappers is the longest of the many projections, a chalk headland whose wooded summit is visible from far and wide looming above the village of Sharpenhoe fifty metres below.
The Ordnance Survey paragraph
I looked up Flitwick on an Ordnance Survey map but my eye was instead drawn by Harlington, one stop south, and a nearby whorl of contours. That looks totally intriguing, I thought. This is Bedfordshire so I bet that's a chalk escarpment on the edge of the Chilterns, but also a ridiculously contorted shape totally unlike what you might see at Dunstable or Wendover. Also it's shown as National Trust property so it must have something scenic going for it. Also I spotted another wiggly escarpment just to the west and if I linked those up I could make a pretty good ramble out of it. I decided to walk from Harlington station to Leagrave station, an entirely doable distance, and I don't know if you've ever gone for a walk purely because you were inspired by how it looked on a map but I can heartily recommend it.
The Explanatory Introductory paragraph Sharpenhoe Clappers is a long chalk spur on the northern edge of the Chiltern Hills, standing out like the prow of an ocean liner above the surrounding flatter land. If you need to get your bearings it's in Bedfordshire, not far from Toddington Services on the M1. According to the National Trust, who oversee the site, it's "crowned with traces of an Iron Age hill-fort" and it does indeed look like a perfectly defendable promontory. Alas the good folk at the Buckinghamshire Archaeological Society carried out a survey in 2014 and found no evidence whatsoever of any ramparts, concluding that "the purpose of The Clappers was due to extensive rabbit warrens being farmed there". The Old English word for warren was even 'clapere', so the clue was always there. These days the summit is covered with beech trees and ideal for exploration, plus there's a very convenient car park a short distance away, and I look forward to telling you all about my visit.
