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North Downs Way: Day 1 of 3

15/12/2017

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Day 1, Challenge 1: Anxiety.
Wood post with circular yellow waymarker
North Downs Way waymark, featuring the National Trails acorn.
I start the walk angry. I am angry because . . . I don’t know why. There are a series of niggles, but nothing to upset me this much: we had to drive miles past our destination and use a roundabout to turn back on the highway just to get into the carpark; there are no toilets at the reserve and I’m busting; the weather was fine this morning and now it’s overcast; the velcro on my camera case is coming unstitched so I can’t keep it on the hip belt of my bag (I leave it behind and rely on the phone). I’ve been looking forward to this walk for a couple of weeks, but now it’s about to start, I’m unhappy.

Guess who’s going hiking?! (Going to spend a few days on the North Downs.) pic.twitter.com/NBwg2KmSvH

— Jonathan (@jonathanworking) October 23, 2017
Leaves on the path
Autumnal carpet.
I’m going to be walking by myself. This should be exciting, because it will be my first multi-day solo walk. Well, “solo” to a certain extent. Dan’s dropping me off and picking me up each day, but he’s doing his own thing while I’m hiking. If this goes well, it might be the start of a new era of holidaying, where I walk (which is fun and relaxing for me) and Dan relaxes/mooches around/doesn’t do much (which isn’t usually my bag) and we meet up in the evening for dinner and sleeping (which we both agree are excellent). Dan thinks he wins because he gets to do whatever he wants; I think I win because I get to walk - and I get a personal taxi service.
Autumn colours and rooftops
Autumn colours glimpsed from between the trees on the North Downs Way.
It’s great in theory, but now we’re about to wave goodbye to each other I’m both angry and sad. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I try to coax Dan. He doesn’t - he wants to eat cake and read, which is exactly what he’ll end up doing. “You’re always a bit like this at the start of a walk,” says Dan. “You’ll feel better in a little while.” We part ways and I turn around every few steps to wave, as if I’m heading into some vast wilderness rather than taking a stroll on the North Downs near Maidstone.
Hillside with small figure
Can you spot me? Dan took this as we headed our separate ways . . .
Five minutes later, Dan’s out of sight. So, this is it for the afternoon. Not much I can do now except walk. I put down one foot and then the other foot. I look out at the view on my right, keep an eye out for the National Trail markers. It’s just walking. I can do that.
Steps
Ugh! Who ordered steps?!
View over fields
But the views are a good reason to climb hills.
​Soon, I’m at the bottom of the first flight of steps. Ugh. Who ordered this? I’m annoyed all over again. I mean, sure, the North Downs are a range of hills, but who would have thought the North Downs Way would go up and down them? I give myself a talking to. “There’s no one else here. You can go up this hill as slowly as you want. It really doesn’t matter.” So that’s what I do, And, of course, it isn’t so bad. The hills aren’t big. At the next flight of stairs I think, “OK, this is how it’s going to be,” and adjust to the reality of the path. The view is good from up here - the slope sweeps down to a wide, low plain with fields and villages and roads - and when there’s no view it’s because the path is a half-magical tunnel through shrubs and trees in autumn yellow, orange and brown.
Rosehips and hills beyond
The skirts of the North Downs, viewed through a hedgerow lace beaded with rose hips.
After 20 minutes or so, I still don’t feel great. I ask myself, “What’s wrong?” and then, “OK, but what’s really wrong?” until I hit the core of it. Anxiety. I’m unreasonably anxious. Last time I went on a real adventure, on the Snowy River, I developed a lot of anxiety. I became scared of everything. I worried constantly about our safety. And I didn’t deal with it then, so now, on my first multi-day walk since, it’s reemerging. I’m trying something new, I’m by myself, I don’t know what’s going to happen . . .
​
“What am I worried about?” I mutter. I list a few things, but it boils down to: “Something might go wrong.”

And what if it does? If I hurt myself, mobile reception is fine, so I can call someone. If a dog chases me, well, I’ve had dogs growl and snarl and bark at me before - generally they stop once you’re off their territory, plus they should be used to walkers on this well-trodden path. If the phone dies and I can’t check the map, the North Downs Way is very well waymarked - and I know there are villages nestled at the foot of these hills, so I can go to one of those and phone Dan from a pub or a random person’s house. If someone attacks me . . . OK, the chances of that are very slim. And there’s nothing I can do about that, really - the decision to assault someone is the aggressor's decision, not the victim’s. Really, the two things most likely to go wrong are: 1, it rains; and/or 2, I don’t enjoy myself. Those are some pretty low-stakes problems to have.
Small fallen tree across a path bordered by maize and hedge
An obstruction! Uh oh, I'll have to turn around and go all the way back.
As I’m climbing another hill, it dawns on me that some of the physical symptoms of this anxiety are similar to the markers of physical exertion. My heart is pumping overtime, I’m a bit out of breath, my chest is a bit tight, my limbs a bit wonky, adrenaline is working its way around my body - it’s fight or flight-y. I wonder if I’ll feel less anxious when path is flatter. I reach the top of the hill and, sure enough, this turns out to be the case. Huh. So, where usually I feel anxious and as a result I get these symptoms, today I’ve got the symptoms and my brain has converted them into “I’m anxious”. Perhaps . . . actually, yes, I think this is true: I’m not really that anxious after all! This realisation amuses me so much that I laugh out loud and disturb some pheasants.
Person and NDW fingerpost
The Woodland Trust lured me off the main path for a bit of exploring.
One hour in and I take a moment to appreciate that everything is now great. I’m relaxed and happy (ahh, endorphins!). I feel like I could keep going for hours. I’ve found my stride. The well-marked path dips in and out of the trees, and I can see the flowing skirt of the escarpment slowly receding behind me. I love walks like this, where you can look back and trace your progress, look forward and wonder where you’ll get to today. It’s very satisfying. The only people I’ve seen so far were two riders racing their horses along a gallop below the hill. This is what I was hoping for. This is the life!

First hour and a bit has been nice. Only this one other person. @NorthDownsWay pic.twitter.com/9y9BK8B2ij

— Jonathan (@jonathanworking) October 24, 2017
Person and sculpture with downturned mouths
IDK, the view looked OK to me.
I get lured into Hucking Estate by the Woodland Trust’s signs. They seem very clear, directing me to a viewpoint, but I somehow manage to go the wrong way. Ah, but no way is really the wrong way, is it, if you’re just out for a wander? I meet a shepherd carved out of wood and climb over a locked gate to get back onto the North Downs Way. I pass through a beautiful section of grassy glades and hawthorn thickets, where white cows seem to glow in the muted afternoon light. I watch a kestrel - suspended, a silent focal point in the midst of a frantic wind that gusts up the slope at Eden’s Hole.
Post with lots of signs
National Cycle Network, Route 17.

It’s afternoon tea time! The Scenery, if not my face, continues to be lovely. pic.twitter.com/nBksPBghew

— Jonathan (@jonathanworking) October 24, 2017
The path tips me off the hills and I’m almost disappointed. But now I’m walking along the Pilgrim’s Way, an ancient trackway and road system that stretches from Winchester to Canterbury. Two cyclists pass me and, as they pass, one exclaims how amazing it is to be following the route that people have been following for a thousand years. I stop for a Snickers and a loo break. Later, I sit with a pilgrim (once again, carved from wood). But mostly I breathe deeply, open my stride and put the miles behind me. Chalk cross, chalk path, chalk cliffs. Any anxiety I had is a distant memory. Here I am, walking. I love walking.

Much flatter as the North Downs Way joins the Pilgrim’s Way this afternoon. pic.twitter.com/o1WOrX8L1e

— Jonathan (@jonathanworking) October 24, 2017
A large cross in the hillside
The white cross on the hill (near Lenham).
Fields and some exposed chalk
The old Lenham Quarry (if I recall correctly) - SSSI.

This was the first day of a three day walk in October 2017 from (approximately) Maidstone to (pretty much) Folkestone along (mostly) the North Downs Way.
[Read Day 1 - Day 2 - Day 3]

8 Comments
Ashley Beolens link
15/12/2017 23:32:59

It seemed like the anxiety passed as the day wore on? I've not walked the north downs way, even though we have family in Kent (Margate), must add it to my walking bucket list. I look forward to reading days 2 & 3 :)

Reply
Jonathan link
16/12/2017 06:03:20

Hi Ashley - indeed, after the first hour, I was fine. That's one of the beauties of walking, I feel - everything passes, you just keep walking. I hadn't walked much of the North Downs Way before, and the three days I did in October piqued my interest in doing the whole thing some time.

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Allysse Riordan link
16/12/2017 07:06:00

I'm glad the anxiety melted away as you walked on :)
I find it usually always does when I'm outdoors. There's something about the outdoors, the movement of walking/cycling that really soothes the mind and soul.

I can't wait to read the further instalments (with I hope less anxiety) :)

Reply
Jonathan link
17/12/2017 19:14:01

Indeed - one of the things I love about walking is the way you can walk through what's bothering you. I noticed it very much more while walking by myself: both the things bothering me and the experience of accepting or overcoming them were heightened.

Reply
Eliza
17/12/2017 22:09:13

How lovely! Beautiful writing and photos as always - those rose hips! I’m having difficulty walking much at all at the moment, your walk looks heavenly, thanks for sharing.

Reply
Jonathan link
18/12/2017 03:48:40

Thanks Eliza. Yes, the colours were really lovely - the rose hips and hawthorn berries were little snatches of bright red all along the trail. I hope you can get out for a walk soon.

Reply
Sharon Movita Jones
19/12/2017 00:25:50

Hi Jonathan, Thanks for sending these photos from your walk. They are inspiring. I am glad your anxiety went. Usually if you face it it will fade and you were approached it with a willingness to understand it.
Keep walking. Sure you will and I will follow you and wish you a very Happy Christmas and 1018,

Reply
Jonathan link
19/12/2017 02:12:08

Thanks, Sharon, I found this short section of the North Downs Way very appealing - I'd love to get out and do the whole thing one day. I hope you have a great festive season, too! :)

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