An adventure journal post all about my first day hiking the Mendip Way, from Weston-super-Mare to Rowberrow. If you are new to this series, start at day zero.
Back at the end of January, I went on a solo adventure hiking along the Mendip Way. Timed right at the start of the year as a way of acting on my desire to do more hiking this year than last, I couldn’t wait to see what this long-distance trail in Somerset had in store.
I had travelled down the night before by train (hopefully you’ve already read my day zero adventure journal), so I was well-rested and raring to go. Day one on the trail was a 15-mile stretch from Weston-super-Mare to Rowberrow – and it got off to a great start, giving me a little bit of everything. The Mendip Way really did not disappoint, and while it was challenging at times thanks to the ridiculously muddy conditions, I found it to be a fantastic route that was well worth my time and effort.
In this adventure journal I will do my best to share the ups and downs of my first day on this beautiful trail. Picture this: a windy beach walk, an encounter with a shepherdess and her 157 sheep, the most spectacular views from a rocky hilltop, and a surprise mini-ravine. Grab a cup of tea and get comfortable, let me tell you all about it.
Download file for GPSSee the full route in OS Maps.
Read the official Mendip Way leaflet.
Mendip Way Day 1: From Weston-super-Mare to Rowberrow
I woke up at the Premier Inn in Weston-super-Mare early on Friday morning to the sound of driving rain battering the windows. This was Storm Éowyn, that had been well forecast over the previous couple of days. Thankfully this was only the edge of the storm-affected area; this part of southwest England was under a yellow weather warning for wind and rain. The forecast promised the worst would be done by 9am, and so while it sounded like all hell was breaking loose outside, I knew it was on its way to being over.
Despite the heavy rain and strong winds overnight, I slept well and felt reasonably refreshed. There were definitely some pre-sleep worries swirling around my head, such as that storm, my fitness level, and whether I was stupid attempting any kind of long-distance hike in January. But thankfully I was able to turn off my brain and get some much-needed rest. And looking back now, even with all the rain and mud I experienced in the subsequent four days, I know I made the right choice.
Three Network Issues
The network issues from the previous day were resolved, so I didn’t have to worry about finding a new SIM card at some random corner shop before I set off. Actually, I don’t think I mentioned that in my day zero post. The very short version is the previous day, the Three mobile network fell over, and users were reporting being unable to make even 999 calls.
As a Smarty customer, which uses Three, this meant I couldn’t make calls (although I clearly didn’t test the 999 issue) when I wasn’t connected to WIFI. Switch on WIFI calling, folks, it’s super handy.
The plan I agreed with my husband was to check the situation first thing in the morning, and if it was still down, head to a shop and buy a pay as you go SIM for a different network as a temporary backup. As I say, that wasn’t needed.
Blustery Walk Along the Beach
Believe it or not, the rain stopped a little earlier than forecast, and so after spending a very leisurely couple of hours in my room – I stayed in the Premier Inn on Weston-super-Mare seafront – I got myself ready and headed off on my adventure. My first steps led me to the pier, where I snapped a few selfies to indicate the start of my hike, before walking along the shoreline towards Uphill.
The section along the seafront isn’t officially part of the Mendip Way route, which technically starts in Uphill. But it would have been a shame to catch the bus and not actually spend any time by the sea. And it wasn’t exactly a difficult addition – I walked south for 40-minutes or so, keeping the sea on my right.
The wind was biting, blowing sand all around, but it was manageable and not unsafe. As someone who relishes any opportunity to be by the sea, I would go as far as to say this unofficial start to the Mendip Way was quite delightful. There’s something so calming about being beside the sea, even in the very gusty conditions I was thrown that morning. Honestly, if you decide to hike the Mendip Way, then you should also start in the centre of Weston-super-Mare – don’t miss this stretch of the England Coast Path.
About half of the stretch along the seafront meant walking on the compacted sand of the beach itself, which was unexpected but added something extra to the adventure. Along the way, I watched a kite surfer braving the elements and navigated carefully past signs warning of sinking mud – anyone else love Saving Lives at Sea on telly?! It made me smile.
Two Miles In – But Only Just Starting
I might have already walked almost two miles, but I was only now getting to the official starting point of the Mendip Way. Uphill is a charming suburb of Weston-super-Mare a little south of the famous seaside town, known for its marina and nature reserve.
I made my first Mendip Way error here, though. Uphill Beacon, which stands on top of a little hill by the marina, was originally built as a corn mill in the late 18th century, and has also acted as a watchtower and an observation platform. If I’d been thinking straight, I would have climbed the hill to see it close up (and to see the apparently 360-degree views – you can go inside and climb to the top). But for some reason that thought didn’t cross my mind until I was well beyond that point and looked back at it. The bracing walk along the seafront clearly hadn’t quite woken me up enough!
Don’t worry though, I made up for this with a detour to the summit of Crook Peak a bit later in the day.
The first blue way marker of the Mendip Way is at Uphill Sluice. A place which felt like utter chaos when I got there (which is probably why I didn’t think about going to the Beacon). There must have been an event on or maybe everyone was arriving to check on their vessels after the high winds overnight? Cars everywhere.
The Start of the Mud
Having navigated my way through the weird craziness of the marina parking area, I headed through a kissing gate – the first of 100s on the Mendip Way – and into Uphill and Walborough Local Nature Reserves. It was an easy stroll initially, with big limestone cliffs flanking one side of the path, and flat salt marsh on the other. The path was tarmac, the terrain flat, and the walking fast.
However, as soon as I branched off onto the West Mendip Way proper, the terrain turned incredibly muddy almost instantly. I did my usual trying-to-be-graceful impression of a gazelle, doing my best to fly lightly over the top of the muddy sections, and carefully pick my way around the very outside of the path-wide puddles. But, you know, I have the grace of an elephant so that was never going to work.
So, within a couple of miles of the start of the Mendip Way, I realised that staying clean wasn’t going to be an option. I knew it would likely be muddy along the way, but thought maybe I’d get a few more miles done first! This was a strangely liberating decision, though. I ceased trying to avoid the mud and embraced it, finding the easiest route through, rather than the cleanest. Start as I mean to go on, and all that.
I walked through the village of Bleadon without being tempted to stop at the farm shop there, as I’d earmarked a café a little later in the day to stop for a break. Instead, it was time to get up and over the first proper hill of the Mendip Way – Bleadon Hill.
157 Sheep on Bleadon Hill
The ascent turned out to be quite reasonable, thanks to it going diagonally up through some open-access grassland. This small local nature reserve is called Hellenge Hill, and had I been hiking this in spring I would have seen some beautiful – and rare – grasses and wildflowers. Alas, not in January. I walked past a sign about clay pigeon shooting, through a farm, and ended up on a lane which ran across the top of the hill.
The viewpoint was around half a mile along the lane. There’s no trig pillar here, but the map notes it as 143m above sea level. I was rather hoping for a wide-open view with a perfectly placed bench to drink my flask of tea and have a snack, but it was a little underwhelming. The views I’d just had from Hellenge Hill across the Somerset Levels were better (in my opinion!).
A particularly memorable moment of my adventure came a little further up the lane where the Mendip Way heads onto a bridleway, when I had to stop and wait for 157 sheep to pass by on the narrow path. I know there 157 sheep because the shepherdess told me. I took off my pack and enjoyed my snack right there, learning that every one of those 157 ewes was expecting, many with twins, and they would be living on top of Bleadon Hill until lambing time.
Here’s a fun fact… Did you know that sheep really like eating ivy? I watched as a couple of the sheep got distracted by their favourite snack and nearly got left behind. Apparently, farmers will give ivy to a sheep who is off its food as it can often entice them to start eating again. Every day’s a school day!
No Hot Food in Loxton
While very muddy in places, especially where I was retracing the steps of all those prancing sheep, the walk from Bleadon Hill to Loxton was truly beautiful. Sheltered in woodland for much of the way, it was easy to navigate and easy to walk. There were some views to be had, too – I could easily make out the M5, River Axe, and the sea.
I decided not to take a detour to the Loxton Hill trig pillar (175m above sea level) because there is no public right of way to it. I admit that doesn’t always put me off, but it did on this occasion. Instead, I enjoyed the official Mendip Way path as it undulated over the hill and then descended down into Loxton.
The café I mentioned that I’d earmarked for a midday-ish break was the Frankie Howerd Hub and Café. This was a very slight detour from the official Mendip Way – but only by walking around the small village of Loxton one way rather than the other. The Frankie Howerd OBE Trust was set up in 2008 to support good causes in memory of this famous British comedian – and they seem to be doing some good work locally.
As I opened the door, the gentleman running the café immediately apologised that there was no hot food available that day as the chef was off. No problem, I was looking for a nice sit down with a cup of tea and a piece of cake – and there was a delicious Victoria Sponge that would fit that bill no problem. As I rested for half an hour, I enjoyed the atmosphere in this clearly well-loved café.
Time for the Poles
As I was getting ready to leave, the café volunteer warned me the hike up to Crook Peak was particularly slippery even on a good day. I had already established from the map it was going to be a short but sharp climb, and in the interests of taking the advice of a local, I readied my walking poles.
I mentioned in my day zero adventure journal that I had been in two minds about packing the poles, and had been tempted to leave them behind. But having unattached them from the back of my pack in Loxton, just seven miles into my hike, they didn’t get stowed again until the finish in Frome. An absolute necessity from this point onwards.
To Crook Peak
I had the most wonderful encounter with a bird of prey just after crossing the M5. It was sitting on a fence by the path watching a couple of workmen on the road towards Webbington. Its gaze followed me as I walked by, not even flinching as I paused to take a (bad) photo. The large bird looked so content sat there people watching, it was quite a sight.
The gentleman in the café was right, the climb on the Mendip Way to Crook Peak was indeed steep and very, very muddy. To be fair, it wasn’t the hill itself that was the worst, it was the path through the woodland before I got to the main ascent that got that title. Still, I slowly plodded (and panted) my way up, knowing there would be big views from the top.
Though not technically quite on the Mendip Way, I couldn’t resist the short detour to the summit of Crook Peak. The views of the Somerset Levels and Bristol Channel were spectacular, making the extra half-mile or so worth every step. Standing at 191m above sea level, but without a trig pillar (that was to come in the next mile), Crook Peak is the westernmost of the main peaks in the Mendip Hills. It has a distinctive conical summit topped with limestone exposures, which would be something I would be able to see for the next 10 miles or more. Just wonderful.
Wavering Down
Once back on the Mendip Way, I picked up the well signposted path over Compton Hill and Wavering Down. This was probably my favourite part of day one. Actually, it was probably my favourite two-mile section of the whole Mendip Way, but at this point I didn’t know that yet. I admit I had a pretty good inkling, though, I was absolutely loving life on that hill!
Wavering Down is just beautiful. A little undulating but easy going, a little muddy but not squelchy, and a little breezy but nowhere near as windy as the forecast had me worried about. Part of a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) managed by the National Trust, Wavering Down is known for its calcareous grasslands, limestone outcrops, and rare plant species. There was even a trig pillar, standing at 211 meters above sea level, from where I could clearly see Cheddar Reservoir and the line of hills I’d be walking along the following day.
To top off the most wonderful two-miles, the descent off Wavering Down took me through the beautiful steep sided King’s Wood. An ancient oak woodland now managed by the National Trust, it was one of the first to be included in the Mendip Forest, an ancient royal hunting ground dating back to before 1298.
A Ravine Before Rowberrow
The final stretch for day one took me along Winscombe Drove, an old road which is clearly still being used by some chunky-tyred vehicles (legally or not…) as it was so very churned up. It was another one of those times when I had to ignore how much mud was creeping up my legs and just plod right on through it. A friend told me this would be the muddiest part of the whole Mendip Way, and I noted in my journal that evening he must be right. The benefit of hindsight as I write this blog means I can tell you, it wasn’t, not by a long shot!
There was an obstacle in the form of a little ravine just before I reached Shipham. It came as a surprise because I missed the sneaky close-together contour lines when I was studying the map. I even got my map out to check I was going the right way, such was the surprise at how much and how quickly the path dropped down.
Some half-finished steps made the descent doable, but when I got to the brook at the bottom it seemed like the bridge had been blocked off somehow. I mean, I’ve seen bridges with bars across to dissuade animals (and motor vehicles) from crossing, but this one had a bar so high it could only have been to stop a person? Still, I confirmed I was in the right place and got on with climbing over (ungracefully, of course).
The climb back up the other side definitely required some extra panting, but I at least knew that once I reached the top I would be within a mile of my accommodation.
The Swan Inn, Rowberrow
The Mendip Way continues on without going into Shipham, but this was where I was leaving the trail for the day and heading one village over to spend the night. I couldn’t find accommodation in Shipham, didn’t want to stop any earlier (there are some options in Winscombe if you prefer), and didn’t fancy adding too many more miles onto the day. So, I walked through Shipham and along a lovely quiet country lane to the very small village of Rowberrow.
I’d booked a room in the rather lovely Swan Inn (booked via Booking.com), a 17th-century grade II listed pub and inn. Don’t worry, I removed my boots before I went in! It was a good job, too, the inn was very cosy inside, and rather more luxurious than this hiker is used to…
My room, which was above the pub, was spacious and had absolutely everything I needed – and more. A nice bathroom, huge bed, tea making facilities (I packed some decaf tea bags for exactly this reason), and enough space to spread out. The digital radio was a nice touch, as was the pillow spray. I said it was luxurious!
Eating, Reading, Writing and Sleeping
After cleaning up, I was seated right by the wood fire for dinner, choosing the mushroom gnocchi followed by the ‘after eight’ ice cream dessert. It wasn’t cheap but the food and service seemed to match the price well enough. I certainly ate well, and that’s the main thing.
I don’t mind eating alone, but it is always a bit strange to do so in a busy pub. Thankfully no-one looked at me too weirdly, and in any case, I had my maps and route notes to study.
Once dinner was done and I’d had enough map reading and people watching in the pub, I headed back to my room. After writing my journal for the day, an important part of my hiking routine, I turned in for an early night to rest ready for the following day. I definitely wondered if the room would be noisy given it was right over the busy bar area, but being so tired I drifted off without any difficulty, and dreamed of what the next day would bring.
Reflections on Mendip Way Day 1
I really did have an incredible first day on the Mendip Way. Starting my hike at the seafront in Weston-super-Mare and walking 15 (and a bit) miles inland over six hours was definitely a good start to this adventure. Despite the storm warnings, it turned out to be a gorgeous, bright day, with only a strong breeze in some exposed areas. I even wore my sunglasses – who would have thought that in January?
The landscapes were absolutely stunning, particularly Crook Peak and Wavering Down. I was so happy up on that stretch, bounding along with a real spring in my step. But what really made the day were the memorable interactions. Meeting the shepherdess on Bleadon Hill with her 157 sheep was fascinating – who knew sheep loved eating ivy? And the gentleman in the Frankie Howerd Café seemed so lovely with his immediate apology for the lack of hot food, and that heads-up about the slippery climb to Crook Peak.
Speaking of slippery, the mud was intense! It was pretty much impossible to stay clean, but I embraced it early on, choosing to just get on with it. I know this will be a recurring theme for the rest of the route, and I was okay with that. My walking poles were lifesavers, especially on those sections. I’m so glad I packed them.
All in all, day one was a fantastic start to my Mendip Way hiking adventure. As I tried to explain in my day zero journal, this journey is about the simplicity of going for a really long walk – the physical exercise, the mental reset, and time to connect with nature. I got all of that on the first day, and more. I’ll take days like that any time.
I’ll let you know if my second day on the Mendip Way was as good soon…
If anything in this journal article has planted a question in your mind about hiking the Mendip Way (or hiking in general), please feel free to ask it in the comments below.
See the full route in OS Maps | Read the official Mendip Way leaflet.
Read all my Mendip Way adventure journal posts.
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