Thanks so much for the "sloe" info! I knew there was such a berry of course but I had no idea of what it looked like or where it grew. Sloe Gin Fizz and all that. I'm going to email that reply to my husband at work. Some people actually have to work full time! He'd better keep doing it too - pay for all these trips.

Part V: Leckhampton to Painswick
Friday, September 22, 2006

I must add here what I forgot to include in Part I, that I had done some training for this walk. Not that I'm in horrible shape but not fantastic shape either. Better now! Paul goes to the gym every week day and does a 30 minutes on the eliptical machine (about 3 miles, level 13, varied terrain), then runs a mile on the treadmill and then does some of the Nautilus machines for his arms etc. Also, he ran the Boston Marathon in 2000. He's in amazing shape. I on the other hand drag myself to the gym also 5 days a week and I do a walk/run of 2 miles on the treadmill, 30-40 situps on the incline and a few arm machines. Not amazing, but good enough. It was my feet that I was worried about and those blasted blisters that could crop up.

So, since we go to church twice on Sundays - for the morning and evening services - I thought a good workout and prep for the "walk" would be to walk to church for the evening service. [We have been members of Rehoboth Baptist Church, Rehoboth, Mass., for 31 years. rehobothbaptistchurch.org] Well, the "short" way to church, just the way we drive, is roughly 7.5 miles so I tried that first, leaving the house at 4 pm for the 6:30 service. (Paul didn't walk with me at this time because he had bursitis in his knee and it was swollen.) I was a bit late for the start of service but not a bad time I thought. The next week I took a different route and it was over 8 miles. I think I did that one 3 times. The last time Paul went with me and we took the longest route - over 9 miles - leaving at 3:30 and were late again. Might I add that it was in the high 80's and even the low 90's once (end of August) and very humid. True dedication that was, lol!! Still, I was serious and wanted to be ready for the real walk, so I did it.

I will add that since I wasn't really used to walking in the heat and humidity, at least for that length, I should have been drinking mucho water. I wasn't. About 2 weeks before the trip I got up as usual to go to work and felt sick. Got in the shower anyway and then really felt sick and thought I should get out. I stepped out of the shower and woke up some time later on the floor with my head under the pedestal sink. I have no idea how long I was out but it could only have been a few minutes as I still wasn't that late for work. I literally crawled on the floor to the phone (after having tried walking but my legs just did not work) and having no idea what was wrong with me, I called my doctor and the nurse asked me if I could possibly be dehydrated (because of our hot summer) and I said "No. Wait. Maybe." Dehydration had never occurred to me and it had never happened to me either. So I drank some water and felt somewhat better, called into work sick and went to bed and slept. Still shaky in the afternoon and after downing glass after glass of water all day, I learned my lesson and obviously haven't let THAT happen again.

My only thought after I got up from the bathroom floor was "The TRIP! Can't be sick for the walk!!" Do travellers ever think of anything else??

Back to Beaumont House...

We awoke in that glorious room at Beaumont House, again gathered all of our gear, tidied up, and for the first time in a long while, actually took the provided toiletries, or at least the Gilchrist & Soames shampoo and conditioner! It's the little things... We toddled down to breakfast. My, what a room. My, what a spread on the "cold" table: two berries and plain yogurt in dishes, a bowl of fresh fruit salad, another bowl with ice and pots of yogurt, a bowl with muesli and of course the usual Marmite and Vegemite. (Does anyone younger than 50 still eat these? Just wondering if it's a baby-boomer/wartime carry-over or not. Brits who are reading this please tell me.)

Each of us ordered two poached eggs on brown toast as we were done with the "full english" in terms of sausages and bacon, had our muesli and fruit and a great carafe of coffee and off we went after a few photos of the dining room. We were a few miles into the Leckhampton/Cheltenham area so we went off to find a bus stop in our general direction. We took the first bus that came along since it was going up the hill (why are we always going up???). The was our first encounter with an unfriendly person as you all must admit, the British are in general MORE than willing to be helpful and cheerful. We climbed onto the bus and paid our fares and asked the bus driver (there was no one behind us) if there were any busses that we could take after his route turned off (about 1.5 miles away). He replied "I don't know." Hmmm. I said you don't know of any other busses on this street? "No. I only know my bus and that's it." He might have added "So back off and get out of my face" because that was his tone and he was definitely not a happy camper. Oh well, we can't all be going on a walk in the Cotswolds on a Friday morning. So we left Mr. Cranky and went off to peruse our maps and see just how far we had to walk before we found a path.

Sure enough, the bus turned off just a mile or two up the hill, and we got off and started to hoof it again. If you look at my pics you'll see a photo of two milk bottles and an oj bottle with a saucepan over them. We assume this was to keep the animals away from the foil tops. This was shortly after we left the bus, on the road bound out of Cheltenham, just before Blackhedge Farm on the OS Map 179. The day was beautiful but a few clouds seemed to be gathering. Famous last words. We opted to continue on the road rather than to, once again, follow the Cotswold Way past Crickley Hill Country Park. We have some serious ground to cover yet again and we think our next B&B stop will either be Cranham or Painswick. Paul liked the sound (and the name) of Birdlip but it was just too near so we'll head for Painswick - maybe 14 or 15 miles away.

We walked up to a major intersection where the A436 and A417 meet and we see a sign for a large pub "The Air Balloon". This pub is so large that it's on the OS map by name with a blue "pint" sign next to it. I'm holding my breath hoping that I don't see a sign on it that says "rooms" because I would have screamed having been so near just the night before. However, there was no such sign that I could see and, anyway, we had the best of rooms and breakfasts at the Beaumont. It was morning traffic and it was literally screaming from every direction. Every time one traffic light would show red another one in the other direction was green and the traffic just would not stop. Everyone heading off to work and not fooling around and certainly not wanting to let two walkers with backpacks scurry across. We waited and watched, watched and waited. Finally there was nothing left to do but to go back a few hundred feet and just get across to a traffic island and then wait to go the rest of the way. Yeah, that worked. A bit petrifying but do-able as we madly ran across between the cars. Not for the faint of heart.

Finally, we're back in the countryside and the sound of the traffic grows fainter with each step we take. Here the CW path actually crosses over the Gloucestershire Way and takes us along the escarpment towards Birdlip. We have somewhat of a flat broad woodland path at this juncture and we pass a sign that says "Cuckoo Pen". We never did see any cuckoos in this area but we had heard them on the first day before we had ever even known they were around these parts. It was a strange sound and I can't even accurately remember at this point what the sound was like except that I said to Paul "Was that a cuckoo - that sound?" He replied that it might very well have been but since we had never heard one, we didn't know! Duh. So apparently it was. It didn't make the sound of a cuckoo clock but when you hear it, you know what it is.

On this glorious woodland path we saw two white horses coming towards us with riders replete with their hard hats, breeches and boots. One of the horses was absolutely huge and the young woman riding said "Yes he is rather large - about 18 hands I think." Love horses. They asked if the path ahead was suitable for the horses as it was a new way for them. We replied that there was a kissing gate (definitely not for horses) and a steep hill, so they reversed their direction and went off on their usual route. The daylight was quickly disappearing and it was starting to spit rain. We were now in Witcombe Wood and passing Birdlip and it's getting pretty dark in that wood...

We were faithfully following the CW markings at this point and the walking was glorious, even with the sprinkle of rain. Lots of trees and lots of stone walls - hey almost like home! The biggest difference was the english ivy growing up the slender trees. Was it me or does the ivy choose only certain types of trees to grow on? It seemed that way. Once again the CW path heads north (on our map) and we of course need to be going south. I understand that the makers of the Cotswold Way want the walker to take in as much gorgeous scenery as possible but again I'll state that scenery was not high on our list of importance - finding a place to sleep before dark was. As we follow the path we keep looking to our left for public paths that will take us into Cranham.

It's really beginning to rain now and we've put on our rain jackets and know that we'll have to stop today for lunch just to get out of the rain. Paul has his jacket just over his head and draped over his backpack. I've got mine completely on and am trusting that the label on my backpack is true: WATER RESISITANT. I learn later that there's a world of difference between "Water Resistant" and "Waterproof". Enough said about that!

I don't want to go so far as Cooper Hill. First of all it's the dreaded word: HILL. Secondly, it again heads north. Sheesh. We take one of the paths that go south, but uphill (of course). It ends at a pile of fallen trees after 15 minutes of hiking uphill. We go back to the CW path and hike some more and take another path to the left. We walk and walk and walk, this time apparently in Buckholt Wood - or we hope that's where we are according to the map, and we finally come out to a narrow road. Which way to go? We walk across and the rain is coming down so hard that there are rivers rushing down the side of the road (a hill of course). Hmmm. We peer into the woods and indeed there is a sign for a public path - exactly in the direction we need to go to Cranham. Instead of a path, there is a river. Paul says "I'm not going in there." It's the first time I've heard him balk at anything on this walk. Heck, he hardly ever balks at anything ever! For once I said "But it's the path. It's the way we've got to go because the road (which is uphill in our direction) is a torrent of water and will take us away from the Cranham direction. And the pub. And food. And heat."

Paul listens to me and heads into the wood and into the stream. We splash our way more or less uphill with the water coming down at us. We're soaked needless to say. Here and there we are able to walk on rocks and let our sneakers drain a bit. The mud is slippery. I don't want to slip and land on my butt in the water. Wet feet is one thing... Somewhere along this "path" Paul yelled back at me (rain is noisy) "Hey, do you want that chocolate we got from Beaumont House??" He says now: "you lit up like a Christmas tree". We were soaked. We were cold. We were hungry. And we've got CHOCOLATE! Hooray for chocolate, true sustenance for the weary body and soul. We stood there straddling the stream-cum-path and ate the chocolate that I appropriated just that morning from the little dish on the front desk at the Beaumont. Two pieces each. Devoured.

Thus happily sated, we continued on through the rain and emerged near the Black Horse Inn in Cranham. Glorious. We made a beeline towards that public house and stumbled in, wet and dripping with every eye in the place on us.

I'll bet most of you reading this know the feeling. You enter a pub that isn't in the usual tourist area. It's filled with locals and you are not one of them. It's awkward for a few moments. So, we unshouldered our packs, unzipped our jackets and found a table to sit at. There were 3 men near the bar (see photo 1328) who eyed us warily, not smiling. I think we more or less asked if we were to order from the landlord (we were), having already read the chalkboard menu. Paul ordered a pork chop for me and beef & Guiness sausages for him and a pink and a half of Old Speckled Hen for us. See the photo 1330. The porkchop fill half the plate with new potatoes and a bowl of assorted veggies. Paul liked his sausages and mustard mashed potatoes. We started to talk to the three chaps who had been doing bricklaying on a renovation near the pub and also came in to get out of the rain. They told us it was the remains of Hurricane Gordon. I had no idea that any part of any hurricane that we get on the eastern seaboard of the US makes it was to the UK. We talked and talked and laughed and laughed.

We talked about our walk. We talked about them. The guy sitting on the right in the photo (at the bar) asked where we were headed to and I said "Painswick". Oh, that's a nice town, you'll like that. Very pretty place. Where are you headed after that? I answered that after we spend the night in Painswick, we'll probably head for Dursley as that would be about 15 miles and that's roughly the number of miles we plan to do each day, finishing at Bath. "Oh! You don't want to go to Dursley!" he said. "It's a horrible town. Nothing there to speak of. Not pretty like Painswick and no place for you. You really don't want to go to Dursley. I live there!" We laughed and said it really couldn't be as bad as that, could it? He said it was. Oh well.

We once again made ready to leave, used the facilities, having changed our sneakers and socks when we arrived, shouldered the packs and said our goodbyes. Our bill was a well-spent £17.95. We were off in the (now) light rain and headed on the road to Painswick. After walking a half hour or so, a truck zoomed up behind us, slowed down, and all three guys waved and yelled good luck to us. Loved it. It's the people you remember the most.

Somewhere along this part of the walk from Cheltenham to Painswick, can't really remember just where, we met walkers coming in our direction. It turns out that the wife's cousin is married to Mark Richards, the writer of the booklet "The Cotswold Way". Hey, we're almost famous by association, lol! We also once again find ourselves in the middle of a golf course, the golfers shrouded happily in the mist. Made for a great photo (1334).

As we're walking, I'm reading The Cotswold Way, not so much for the text but for the B&B addresses I have scribbled in the margins. I want to head for "Orchard Hse, 4 Court Orchard, Painswick, £55, good review" so as we trek into the town, we first head to tourist information and get a map of the town, find Court Orchard and head for the B&B. No one there. Well, we hadn't called ahead to book so she didn't know we were coming - my fault. We head for another option that I had read about and that was also on the tourist information sheet: Hambutt's Mynd B&B. We knock on that door and a very elderly gentlemen answered and says, sorry, no vacancy. We thank him and go to my next scribble on the page: "St. Anne's B&B, £27-28pp, Walkers welcome, Gloucester St (no number)" I open the first door at the sign and peer in and spy a wooden grid on the wall with boxes for shoes - walkers' shoes - and every box is filled. Uh oh. I knock on the second door and a young mother answers and tells us "Sorry - no room!" but she offers to call ahead to another B&B: "Thorn".

We thank her profusely as we sit on a couch in her kitchen and she gets on the phone with Thorn and we listen. "Oh! You have? Are you sure? It isn't too much trouble?" etc etc. She gets off the phone and says that Mrs. Blatchley of Thorn House will take us in but isn't completely ready as she's just gotten in from the airport - she had been in Florence for a week. We again thanked her, said we knew the way (we were going to head there on our own if this B&B had been full). Off we walked to stay at the 4th B&B we had tried that day, hopefully to stay.

We found Thorn exactly where we thought it would be. An ancient house built (the newer part) somewhere in the vicinity of 1750, with the oldest part from 1250 when it was the town marketplace. There are still two roman columns in the dining room of the original twelve which formed the open air, covered market. Barbara Blatchley answered the door and showed us in; she was probably somewhere between 78 and 82. See photo 1348. It was a cosy sitting room with a fireplace and things in every corner. It was the sitting room that I'll bet just about every one of us has seen in the home of an elderly aunt or neighborhood friend - cluttered but not dirty, filled but not overflowing. Something to look at in every direction!

She asked if we'd like tea and I think for the first time ever, I said "Yes please!" quite readily. She had no milk as she was newly home from her travels and hadn't been shopping yet. I assured her that it was fine as it was - Paul always has his without milk but I never. It was all I could do to drink most of it! For some reason the acidity of the tea without the milk just takes all the shine off my teeth and leaves me with the feeling of just having eaten a lemon. Oh well. The thought was good anyway as we were still somewhat damp from the day's rain.

We then were shown upstairs to our room. Oh my. Beaumont House it certainly wasn't. There was a double bed but it was what I would call a "French" double - really a three-quarter bed and I took one of our OS maps and measured with it - 46 inches wide. A bit narrow to say the least - just measure your own bed. There was a single bed also in the room and she said I was welcome to use that as well, instead of us both in the double. Wish I had taken her advice: it wasn't the best night's sleep on the trip by a long shot. Oh well, next we showered in the microscopic bathroom which Paul could not walk into in an upright position. He had to crouch until he got to the sink and the he could stand upright. At 5' 1" I was fine but at 6' 1" he was way too tall. Ancient ancient house.

We nipped out to the pub that Mrs. Blatchley recommended and found ourselves at The Royal Oak Inn. Somewhat recommended for the atmosphere and local ale more than for the food. We quickly read the chalkboard menu which listed STP (Sticky Toffee Pudding) and I was good to go. We chose a table - ooooh, wrong choice because after an hour or so I was definitely uncomfortable on my 10 inch banquette seat. Oh well, it was a good pub anyway. I think we both had the steak and kidney pie which had an atrocious factory-made crust but the inside was decent. The rest I can't remember. The STP was also "pretend" and had no toffee and no dates. Oh well again. Still, the ambiance I think made up for the mediocre food and the landlord was affable. It doesn't take much!

Back to Thorn for my horrible's night sleep on that narrow bed. Paul slept like a log! I should have just gone over to the other one but hindsight is 20-20. Oh well again. The morning brought a so-so breakfast at the dining room table with Mrs. Blatchley. She did ask us what we'd like and we did answer that the usual english breakfast would be fine. I ended up giving Paul my mushrooms and my soggy tomato. We told her to please not bother with bacon or sausage. After thanking her, I said that we'd like to settle up our bill and she replied without missing a beat: "That'll be £28 each". So Paul peeled off £56 and we were off. It was not worth £56 but it was a roof over our heads for the night and just for the memory of the fake-fur bedspread, it was worth it...

Today we head for Dursley. A place "not fit for man nor beast" according to our friend from the pub.

I'm so glad you came back to finish this...

I live 15 minutes drive from the Air Balloon, but have never walked the Cotswold Way (yet!) so am finding this part particularly interesting.

Coopers Hill is incredibly steep, and is where on the last Monday in May cheeses (huge rounds of Double Gloucester) are rolled down the hill and are chased by many people.. just one website is...

http://www.abc.net.au/rollercoaster/...eserolling.htm

Painswick and Cranham are lovely - I'm sorry your B&B in Painswick was disappointing because it really is a nice little town.

Dursley - well, I look forward to reading whether you agreed with the Cranham chap! As far as I am concerned Dursley has the best physiotherapist in the county, and it's where my daughter's best friend lives but that's about all it has going for it!

oh, and Marmite... some of us Brits eat it all the time - every morning on toast in our family! Vegemite is a poor substitute for those down under.

More please! (Your trip report that is, not Marmite.)

I am truly enjoying your report Lizcakes. It's detailed and interesting and you have a pleasant writing style.

I myself spent 2 wonderful days touring the Cotswolds 5 years ago and vowed to return to do a walk; now reading yours and Paul's adventure may just be the turning point that gets me to do it ( so much world...so little time !)

I've also snuck a peek at your photos and they are wonderful. Aren't English brekkies great ? (fried slices and bloodpudding not withstanding) ! Also the country pubs and plough man's lunches, the fields, the flowers. Its so...."English" and you cannot find that anywhere else in the world. I am familiar with those black coloured berries along the road side (that Paul was munching on in the photos); as children we loved them too (and still do, as I recall feasting on them near Tintern Abbey on a recent trip to Wales)and we called them plain old raspberries.

Keep up the excellent report. I'm printing it to read on the train home.
Looking forward to more.

Cheers,

M.

And sorry to disillusion you, but you would not have heard a cuckoo in September. They are a summer visitor to the British Isles and have left for warmer climes by then.

As the Old English rhyme goes...

Cuckoo, cuckoo, what do you do?
In April I open my bill;
In May I sing all day;
In June I change my tune;
In July away I fly;
In August go I must.

Mathieu: Yes, there's no place like England! And England in September was truly spectacular. Paul wasn't eating the raspberries as they were just too seedy for more than a taste. He was eating those tiny plums (as that's what I truly think they were) that were growing on a tree by the side of the road - not bushes. You must do the walk as I'm dying to read someone ELSE'S words instead of my own - getting tired of them already. : o )

Julia: I can't believe you live in the area of The Air Balloon. Wait til I tell my husband (who's outside on our driveway under the car fixing it with a not-happy face on). To think we were so close to you and yet so far! Friends are everywhere, you just have to look for them.

Thanks for the info about the Marmite/Vegemite. Whoa - you eat it every morning - Marmite that is. Better you than me, kid.

And it wasn't a cuckoo that I heard! Well, that just goes to show you I don't have any idea of what I'm hearing. Still, I wonder what the heck it was!?

It was likely it was a wood pigeon - they make a sound like coo coo. From a British Birds website I paste the following << a Wood Pigeon's song has five notes and sounds like "ru-hoo ru ru-hoo". This is sometimes remembered as: "Take toooo coooos, Taffy".>>

If you are in the country in May you will hear a very distinctive CUCKoo. As children we would listen out for the first cuckoo in April - how early it was heard was supposed to be a guide as to how good the summer would be! I read somewhere that cuckoos are in decline and are an amber list species, likely to be on the red list before too long. Sad, but it's true I don't hear them nearly so often these days.

I too am amazed that you passed so close - indeed on the stretch between Randwick and Kings Stanley, when you crossed the railway line you would have walked down past the playing fields of my children's school, and then past the school itself!

The north Cotswolds gets many visitors, but fewer reach the south Cotswolds. The hills are steeper on the edge of the Cotswold escarpment, but the views are stunning as you must have found on this leg of your trip - looking across the Severn valley to the ancient Forest of Dean and the Welsh mountains and north to the Malverns. The stone is greyer here too but I don't think it makes the villages any less attractive. I hope you got to see Uley and North Nibley along your path.

Looking forward to reading more about your walk through my home territory!

You can hear the sound of the woodpigeon here

http://www.garden-birds.co.uk/birds/woodpigeon.htm

and also the cuckoo here

http://www.garden-birds.co.uk/birds/cuckoo.htm

or a collared dove

http://www.garden-birds.co.uk/birds/collareddove.htm

This one goes coo-cu-coo so it may well have been this you heard.

I'd imagine tiny plums off trees in September would have been damsons.

There were still lots of blackberries in late September round here, but there's always been a tradition you shouldn't eat them after Michaelmas. (St Michael threw the devil into a blackberry bush when he chucked him out of heaven, so the devil cursed post-Michaelmas blackberries and they're supposed to be bad for you)

Whereby hangs a quandry. Michaelmas on the old calendar was Sept 29. When they introduced the Papist calendar, Sept 29 turned into Oct 10. Michaelmas remains Sept 29, but no-one told the weather they'd changed the calendar.

So which date do berries go bad these days?

Julia, I listened to the bird sounds - all of them and it was nothing like those. We're very familiar with doves around us here in Massachusetts - so definitly not those, nor woodpigeon nor cuckoo. It was a sharp rap "tock" sort of sound. Just one call at a time. TOCK! and a few moments later TOCK! And since I couldn't think of what else it could be and since I saw on the map "Cuckoo Pen" I thought that's what it was, lol! Now, got anything that makes a Tock! sound?

King's Stanley is where we SHOULD have stopped for a cream tea (if there was such a place) but ended up walking around it. I'll have to look at the map. It seems to me that we got a bit lost somewhere around there. We ended up being on a high escarpment in the trees looking down to various habitations but I'll have to ask my husband as his memory is far better than mine...

Flanner: Yes, Damson plums is what they must have been. As a matter of fact I think that's what Paul said but I had forgotten until you said the word. Tiny and oval. I guess the blackberries were still "good" if very seedy of course. To us, raspberries are definitely bright red and these were, well, almost black. I dunno, as children we always called them blackberries. And it certainly wasn't Michaelmas yet as our walk was Sept. 18-28th - so we didn't get quite as far as Michaelmas.

Should have stuck this in my post of a few moments ago but have you see the exchange rate??? I'm appalled! Right now on OANDA.com the pound costs us 1.9323 and the Euro is at 1.30. AAaacccckkkkk! It's going to cost us a FORTUNE for B&Bs and pub dinners in September on our Coast to Coast (St. Bees to Robin Hood's Bay). Yikes. And I wanted to squeeze in a "little" trip to WDW for Jan. 08.

I've already got Barbados booked for May (and paid a hefty 50% deposit on our villa), the C2C for Sept., possibly WDW for Jan. 08 and then a C2C in Italy for October 08. WAY too many trips - I'll have to go from part-time to full-time at my job.

Never. LOLOLOLOL!!!

We do wait for the exchange rate to get better, but I know from experience that it can definitely get worse...

Raspberries are red here too. Very rarely found wild.

Mathieu is confused. Blackberries are definitely what you found on the bushes. Close to a weed everwhere throughout the late summer most years: you can practically live off them for the whole of a walk.

In fact the Flannerpooch, unable to find any ponds during this very dry summer, did actually use blackberries as a source of liquid on one march, they were so profuse.

LOLOLOL. "Flannerpooch" !!!!

Love it love it love it.

We're cat people (easier to leave whilst travelling) and have two. I'll have to call them Lizcats, lolololol!!!

Your bird might have been a pheasant
Listen to http://www.rspb.org.uk/birds/guide/p...nt/gallery.asp

I've got a case of 'lazy brain' - can figure out the C2C (coast to coast in the UK) but what is WDW?

Marmite is a firm favourite in this house with husband and two kids- on toasted bread for breakfast. Can't stand the stuff myself. I think it's an acquired taste.
The bird could have been a woodpecker but more likely to have been a pheasant. Just got back from a very wet, muddy walk around Blockley village (near Moreton in Marsh) and disturbed a pheasant. Don't know which of us was more shocked!

oKAY!! Pheasant!! There were SKILLIONS of pheasants - we saw more pheasants than people. I'll check out that "call" online.

I checked out a pheasant call online and it just wasn't quite right. Too scritchy. Hey, it was probably someone hitting something... TOCK! But we really weren't near a farm by a longshot. We were in the boonies.

If you want to have fun, go to http://www.rspb.org.uk/birds/

It has bird sounds and video clips of some of them.
Perhaps the recording didn't sound quite right to you, but I'd still go for pheasants.
The shooting season starts on October 1st and there are lots of pheasants around in September.
If you walk in or near woods, you can hear that tock tock noise.