I unknowingly bagged my first Marilyn in 1959 when I climbed Cleeve Hill, close to my home in the Cotswolds, so I wanted to celebrate the golden anniversary of this event with something a bit different, preferably in the same area. One thought was to walk the Cotswold Way, but this clings to the escarpment, presumably for the views, and does not go over summits. However, I then discovered that Cleeve Hill's 'territory' stretches from the Severn to The Wash, and I decided that this could be the basis for my project.
From Mark Jackson's list of P30 hills, I discovered that there were almost 130 tops within this territory, 89 of which had a height of 150m or more. I therefore planned to walk or cycle from The Wash to the Severn, climbing all the 150m tops and any other Jacksons that happened to be on the way. The 23-day trip was done in a very wet July, starting at the junction of the River Trent and the Fossdyke Canal. I walked along the canal bank into Lincoln before cycling along cycle route 1 to Birdney. Due to the bad weather I drove along the rest of route 1 to the Great Ouse estuary near King's Lynn, thus completing the north-east boundary of Cleeve Hill's territory. The pattern then was to drive between groups of hills and walk or cycle to the tops in each area, starting around Waltham-on-the-Wold.
I had claimed 38 tops before reaching Broom Hill, my first in the Cotswold AONB. I then headed south to Blackheath before turning north-west for the dozen tops north of Cleeve Hill. Then it was south again over the familiar ground of my childhood in the 1940s and 1950s, sometimes on the Cotswold Way. Fortunately, I was the only starter for the 2:15 when I reached Bath racecourse on Lansdown Hill. East again to Box Hill and then a cycle back west along the Avon and north along the Severn Way to Gloucester, passing my ancestors' former home, the Tudor Arms at Shepherd's Patch, near Slimbridge.
Robin Wood Hill and Tinkers Hill completed the list of tops, and I approached Cleeve Hill from the lane serving Lower Hill Farm, passing the orchids flowering in the SSSI on a fine evening as the sun set, returning through the wood by torchlight. Some will think it was a crazy plan, but baggers of lists generally get to places others never see. The showers could have been fewer but it was worth the effort.
When colleagues came back from National Service spent abroad, they would remark that there was nowhere like the Cotswolds. I have spent a decade in North Yorkshire and forty years in Scotland, visiting many rugged and remote places, but this trip confirmed my memories that the Cotswold area deserves its recognition as an area of outstanding natural beauty.
