Running in the Clent Hills

It’s Saturday morning at the end of a busy week. I’m feeling frazzled and tired, work having been quite intense, not having been sleeping well, and travelling more than normal. Having got Eden up, fed and changed, by 8am I’m ready to go out for my regular Saturday morning ritual – my long run of the week. We’re away from home, so my usual training partners (human and canine) are not around, so it’ll have to be a solo run, however the pay off is that I can run in the Clent hills near Halesowen which pose a more picturesque and challenging landscape than my normal jaunts around Southampton.

I have a route planned in my head, having studied the OS map last night. I’m going further than I’ve been before here, and have tried to remember the key link sections of the route between Clent Hill and Walton Hill – straight on at the top of Clent, left through Clent village, over the cross roads, left at the t-junction, then follow the path to the top of Walton Hill.. after which in theory I know the way back.

I’ve long learned my lesson about going for long runs on an empty stomach, so I’ve made sure I’ve forced down some breakfast while I’ve made up Eden’s bottle at 7am. Fortified by two weetabix and a cup of tea, with a small running bottle of energy drink in my hand, I leave Eden and Kate playing in the lounge and head out of the door of her parents’ house into the fresh morning air.

It’s rained overnight, and the clouds are still heavy, but it’s not cold and it looks like I’ll stay dry. Not that I mind either way – I love running in the rain and have been disappointed on recent lunchtime runs on very wet summer days that I’ve stayed dry! Having activated by Nike+ sportband I set out at my usual steady lope.

Once I’ve crossed the dual carriageway the narrow roads up to Clent are immediately quiet, and immediately a steady climb. There’s fields either side and stables to begin with, but as the road winds and passes through Uffmoor Wood it becomes more enclosed by the trees and foliage to each side. There’s no footpath so I’m running in the road, but I follow the established etiquette of running on the right so that I am facing the oncoming traffic. Not that there’s much, and drivers are used to walkers and runners along here I think.

Approaching a mile and the gradient is steepening. Once I was daunted by running to the top of Clent, but in the four years or so since I’ve been occasionally running in the area, I now find that running to the top and back is no longer enough! I’ve been in training for half marathons for the last year or so, and my endurance has definitely increased. Last weekend my Saturday run was over 11 miles and felt ok – I am disappointed to run less than 6 miles on a Saturday morning these days. I don’t know how long this morning’s run will be – in my mind I have an extension half-planned should I get near base and feel short on distance, just in case.

After Uffmoor wood and a particularly steep section it’s a right turn and past the old church of St Kenelms. The gradient slackens temporarily but enough to be a welcome reprieve from the short section before the junction, which is surprisingly energy-sapping. The road veers round to the left and gradually steepens up before it’s another right turn and a slog up to Nimmings car park and the final ascent to Clent proper.

It’s still early and the car park is empty – shrewd dog walkers have bagged the few available parking spaces on the road rather than pay for the National Trust car park. The small tea shop is still shuttered. I leave the road and start up the trail, winding up the side of the hill through the trees. Nodded greetings to various dogs and their owners. The air is rich with dew and oxygen and drips are falling from the canopy onto the foliage (and path) below. The trail meanders further up, and soon the vista opens wide at the viewpoint, but I push on around to the left and up the final climb to the standing stones and OS trig point at the top.

My sportband reads 2.5 miles, an I have the briefest of pauses at the summit to take in the panoramic views. The overnight rain has cleared the haze and the views across the landscape are clear today. The Black Country spreads out before me – there’s Wychbury Hill with the obelisk (shrouded by scaffolding – must be under repair). Tower blocks, factories, housing, with further hills in the distance as a backdrop. The clouds are low and menacing – blurs in the distance suggest rain isn’t to many miles off. Mist rises from the woods to my left and right, and I set off down “the other side” of the hill and into new running territory.

The descent is wide and open, mainly grass but with a stoney path in the middle. This is punctuated by dog walkers, my only companions at this time of day. Actually there’s quite a few of them, some with about four dogs! Counter-intuitively, downhill running seems harder than uphill – harder on the quads for sure, and I find myself building up speed. I think I just need to follow the main path, so I ignore the other exits and head as straight as I can. Soon the path narrows, with bracken either side, and steepens again. It’s a bit slippier here so I shorten my stride and try to lose some of the momentum I’ve gained. At a fork in the path I decide to bear left, trying to picture the map in my head, and soon I meet the road I’m hoping to find.

Left, and the road flattens out as I run into the village of Clent. The houses are old and majestic, all of the same sandy-reddy stone. No traffic on the road, and I’m looking out for the crossroads. There’s the old church, sitting on the crossroads, and across I go. I think the road is beginning a gradual incline, and after a while I come to the t-junction where I turn left.

Yes, this is definitely an incline now, and the road narrows to a single lane, then an unmade track. There’s houses either side, nestling on the bottom slopes of Walton Hill, and soon the road runs out and I’m faced with an overgrown path. It’s narrow, rocky and very steep. This is much more punishing than the climb up Clent – made more punishing by the stinging nettles relentlessly brushing my shins and ankles, and the brambles tugging at my arms. It’s a slog but it doesn’t go on for ever and I soon break out onto the grassed slopes of the hill proper. I have no idea how much further it is to the top.

Walton Hill feels much more secluded than Clent – less popular I suppose. To my left I can see the woods on Clent, I’ve run a horseshoe loop so far. Soon I reach the trig point, my shins still tingling from the stinging nettles. My sportband reads 5.4miles. The views aren’t as dramatic from the summit, it’s more enclosed by trees, so I carry on, trying to remember the right way down to the car park.

I think it’s straight on for the main path, but it soon turns out that I should have turned right – instead I’m taking a very steep and slippery cut-through! I can see the path in front of me, but nearly lose control on the wet surface and have to use a tree to slow myself down a bit. Still, at least now I’m on the right path.

It’s left through the car park and up to the “main” (!) road before a right turn, past the turning to Clent, and the final long descent back into Halesowen. I pass a few runners and cyclists slogging up the hill, secretly smug that I’m on my way back down, and I stretch out my stride a bit to cover the distance more quickly – much more quickly than on the way up. Although the morning is still cool, my exertions are keeping my quite warm. Still, I’m wearing my Orca running visor which stops the sweat stinging my eyes, so I’m not uncomfortable.

I check my distance on the sportband as I approach the dual carriageway – nearly eight miles. I’ll save my extra loop for tomorrow’s run – something to look forward to. It’s not long after 9am by the time I touch the gate and stop my sportband. 8.13miles, lots of uphill, stinging muddy shins and the warm smug feeling of a hard workout while most folk are still in bed. Time to stretch off, have a cup of tea and get on with the rest of the day.