Bowsey Hill and Ashley Hill

County - Wokingham and Windsor & Maidenhead

Elevation – 142m and 145m

Date – 04/08/2021

Distance – 6.8km

Elevation climbed - 155m

"Will there be cows?"

My long-suffering partner Lisa had thus far remained largely unenthusiastic about the County Top challenge, after popping her Top cherry on Leith Hill, but given a nice afternoon and the prospect of days of rain ahead I was keen to get out and bag a couple of nearby Tops, and as she was at a loose end I thought she might want to tag along. Unfortunately she has a bizarre fear of bovines, and is forever finding stories of people crushed by herds of cows, gored by bulls etc, to prove to me that I'm way to lax in my approach to giant farm animals.

"Well, obviously I don't have live satellite coverage of every field we're crossing, so I can't guarantee it, but the route I've planned seems to be 90% woodland so cows are unlikely, I'd say"

With this she agreed to come along to help me conquer the County Tops of the unitary authorities of Wokingham and Windsor and Maidenhead. Obviously they aren't REAL counties, but in the Byzantine arrangements of English local government they've had the status and responsibilities of county councils since the mid-90s. If you add in all unitary authorities to the County Top list then you're looking at 119 County Tops in England alone, which obviously is a bit of a stretch. But they are local to me, could be done in 90 mins on a pleasant afternoon, so what the hell, let's do it.

We set off from the village of Knowl Hill, delightfully positioned on the A4, and headed up over a meadow above the houses into a thick wood, finding a bridleway which fairly quickly had us at the peak. Being in the thick woods meant there was only snatches of the views of Berkshire, which was a shame; there were half a dozen houses at the top of the hill whose bedroom windows must have a corking panorama.

Smashing Bowsey Hill. Wokingham was ours.

The path cut to the right straight down the hill towards the border with Windsor, whose castle we could see from the wood boundary on the way up, and the old woodland was a delight on a warm afternoon; shaded, full of birds and squirrels, relentlessly quiet.

We came to the bottom of the hill, walked along a quiet lane for half a k or so, then began the ascent of Ashley Hill, past some straggly farm buildings and back into the woods, with the odd mooing sound accompanying us from some distant field. It was a bit of a sweaty climb, and at the top we found Keeper's Cottage, with the trig point in the garden; another Top clambered.

Trig point is just behind the pillar. There were kids playing in the garden, so a sneaky pic didn't seem entirely appropriate...

We made our way down through the woods and eventually opened into a field, with views of the glittering metropolis of Bracknell beyond. The map said we just needed to follow the track and we'd be back at the start. We came down off the hill, along a fence, and there in the distance, shaking its head and clawing the ground, was a single large russet beast, missing a set of udders...

"That's a cow," said Lisa.

"I'm more concerned it's a bull," I replied.

We ummed and ahhed, and Googled "what to do if you see a bull". We agreed to take a broad diversion around it and pick up the path at the end of the field; farmers wouldn't mind.

As we headed off three big old cows came charging over to the fence in the other field, to reassure our cow, which we now noticed was quite small and in the field alone. We got to the corner and realised there was no stile...a check on the map made me aware that we'd gone the wrong side of the fence and needed to be in the other field. The one with the big cows in.

We headed back the long way round the cow. Over the brow of the hill came a big 4x4. There's something deep rooted in me which fears farmers; I think it comes from being chased off fields as a kid. The car pulled up to the fence and a woman leaned out.

"Can I help you?" she called. I ran over to her and explained my mistake.

"Don't worry about that little cow," she said, referring to the giant bull we'd been so afraid of. "She's only a baby, she'll run a mile. However you do need to get into this field"

Cows are generally a bit daft, and clearly associated the 4x4 with food, as about forty massive heiffers had surrounded the vehicle. Lisa was giving me severe daggers.

The lady farmer - who revealed herself to be heavily pregnant, with a carful of babies and toddlers - was, thankfully, warmth personified, and tried to reassure Lisa that these cows were perfectly harmless. She then ruined this by telling us about a guy she knew who'd been killed last year by a bull. Thanks. For. That.

We were now surrounded by cows and needed to head down the fence to exit the field, around 400m.

"Aren't you a beautiful cow," I said to the hairy beast below.

"That's actually a bull," she said, which did not put me at ease as I glared at its giant horns.

We had no choice but to walk on. The cows did indeed get out of the way, but the last cow, a huge thing with massive great horns like a Berkshire water buffalo, stared me down. With two women watching me I had to make out I was TOTALLY COOL with this, and clicked my fingers and maintained eye contact like I was Crocodile Dundee. The cow shook its head and moved off, and I breathed again.

We got off the field, over the stile, and then the recriminations began...

In the Royal Oak at the end of the walk Lisa took a deep draft of her ginger beer.

"Just so you know, this is the LAST TIME".

Looks like I'll be back to solo Topping next time.