|
Stonehenge I had a sore throat that hurt every time I swallowed. I had a headache and felt tired. The weather wasn't pleasant either, so we hunkered down for a rest day. Maybe we would cycle one day, then rest one day. Sharon complained her legs were tired from that one steep hill. The next day, we made an early move and cruised along quiet back lanes in a southwesterly direction. The wind was more or less behind us buoying our spirits. We sailed between hedgerows on a tailwind high. Some towns were having their Fair. We had passed two villages getting ready. At Inkpen we passed kids on ponies being led by their mothers to the fair grounds. A crew of campers watched us pass. One guy yelled, "Cycled all the way from Canada." That old chestnut got very dry indeed once one had heard it for the hundredth time. "Yep, had to paddle instead of pedal," I called back. Near the Wilton windmill we came across a beautiful blooming field of blue flowers. I thought it was flax but learned they were corn flowers. Sharon rode into the field on a tractor path. We enjoyed the view, snuggling down out of the wind for a bite to eat. The Salisbury Plain was where the military did its manoeuvres. Numerous times we saw signs warning of tank crossings. Military equipment kicked up dust. The Plain was bare except for the odd clump of hill-top trees that had been planted by farmers long ago to give the area "majesty." We stopped at Woodhenge. Long ago there had been circles made of standing wooden posts, but of course, they had long since rotted away. I was reminded of the Three Little Pigs and wondered where Strawhenge had been located. We chose the unbeaten path to Stonehenge, beginning on a military road, then connecting with a walking path through a farmer's field complete with grazing sheep. Coming over a small rise we glimpsed our first sight of the standing stones. Even from our faraway vantage point they still appeared incredibly huge. Arriving at 6:30 p.m. the parking area was still full. In the lot there were two large stones for visitors to examine. One sarcen, the other bluestone, the two prominent stones making up Stonehenge. With disappointment I noticed the monument itself was entirely fenced. The stones were massive. I found it impossible not to wonder how ancient man got those top stones up there five thousand years ago. It was amazing they were still standing. There was an admission fee to go inside the fence and one still had to stay on a paved path around the stones. Guards kept watch making sure tourists didn't venture inside the circle to touch the stones. The Druid's had just finished their ceremony for a mid-summer's day on June 22 because on the first day of summer the stones had been heavily guarded against intruders. Still, seven worshippers had been arrested. We pedalled away onto the Salisbury Plain and soon the rocks were out of sight. Areas with trees were sparse. We cycled until eight p.m. before spotting a clump of bushes. A military sign with tiny writing was posted beside the dirt road to the trees. We ignored it and went up the road into the thin cluster. They would be fine as long as no one came around. Who would be out on a Sunday night? Laying the orange tarp down I heard a rustling in the underbrush. A black and white animal about the size of a small pig with a shrew-like face trundled out. We were downwind, so it hadn't smelled us. It eventually noticed us and lumbered inelegantly back into the bushes. We wondered if it would come back during the night. Sharon said she kept getting a whiff of something foul. I pointed to a hole and surmised that was probably the animal's den. We decided we should move. Sharon went off to reconnoitre another nearby clump of trees. She came back with a favourable report. I began to push out and noticed a military Jeep across from us on the opposite ridge. I told Sharon to wait while I watched it. The Jeep turned down the ridge toward the main highway. I wondered if it would go down the highway or come up this dirt track. I didn't have to wait long as I heard the vehicle's tires scrunch on the gravel track. I hastily pushed back into the shrubs. The Jeep passed eight feet from us and turned onto a little used path running along the ridge of a farmer's field. Should we try and make it to the other patch before he came back? Sharon said it was thicker and he wouldn't be able to see us. But we didn't have time to get across to it before we heard the whine of the engine coming back. It came across the clearing. It turned the corner towards us. It stopped. It backed up. The driver honked the horn twice, then called, "Come on out. I see you." The jig was up. We pushed our bikes out of the trees. "What were you doing in there?" he asked brusquely. I followed the old adage: When in doubt -- lie. "I had to take a pee," I said. "These were the only bushes around." Luckily we didn't have the tent set up already. If it hadn't been for that animal we would have. I could hear myself trying to explain the tent to the officer. "That, Sir, is an outdoor loo. Yes, Sir, that is exactly what it is." "Do you know you're on military land?" he asked. "Of course, you don't," he said, answering his own question. "Where are you headed?" "Warminster," I responded, remembering having seen it on our map. "Okay," he said. "Come down behind me." We began following. I realized I had a flat tire. I got off my bike and pushed it to the bottom of the road. We put on the new Michelin World Tour tire I had purchased in Cambridge. I doubted the name had anything to do with how long the tire would last. At the rate I had been going through them, I would be lucky to make it off the British Isles. We rode until we saw a sign: Byway No M.O.D. (Ministry of Defense) Vehicles. There was a sign with a tank and an army truck with a large red slash through them. That was what we had been looking for. We went down the rocky lane and set up behind a clump of bushes next to a barbed wire fence. It had been a nice sunset ride. I would have enjoyed it more if I had known we were going to find somewhere to camp. A biased tourist brochure stated the Plain as being "widely spaced woods." They certainly were. |
|
|
Book Info