Get a map and find your house, then draw a circle from that point using the scale so that it has a 10 mile radius. Take a look at that line and find an interesting town or location, maybe one with a train station you can get to easily. Then go to that location and walk home without using roads, take a map with you maybe. I used https://www.freemaptools.com/ to do this. Living just minutes from the sea means half of the radius is unusable unless I feel like taking up kayaking, which I don’t.

I’ve seen more extreme examples of this where the person is taken to the location blindfolded so they don’t know where they have been dropped off at, sometimes they don’t have a map either. Sometimes the distance is more extreme making it a multi-day event with wild camping overnight.

With all these examples, the idea of walking home, without using roads, is something that I found interesting knowing just how many public footpaths there are locally taking you to places. I like the idea of public footpaths, they follow routes that have been around before roads, sometimes ancient times. The thought that the path you are walking along, now seeing little footfall may have been the main route for local people hundreds of years ago. Footpaths became tracks, tracks became wider and turned into roads. Some are now our main roads while others remained narrow paths always to be forgotten, it feels like you are walking along history.

Planning

I drew a circle, 10 mile radius and I noticed it landed on Hassocks, an easy to reach small town that is only 24 minutes away on the train. I wanted to play a bit to make this a challenge (apart from walking the distance of course) and decided I would plan a route on a paper-based map and would only be using that while on the walk, no GPS assistance. This seemed actually less of a challenge and more a fun way to do things. I use the GPS when cycling as it’s more practical, but when walking you are able to look at the map, ponder about things, all while continuing to walk without crashing into anything (hopefully).

The first challenge in planning the route was how do you cross the A23, a dual carriage way that is busy all the time. The idea of crossing this didn’t excite me, I actually felt it would be impossible and way too dangerous to even think about trying. The road may as well had been a wide river, I needed a bridge. There are no footpath bridges that cross the road and so I would have to go out of my way to join a road that took me over and then back onto a footpath. There was one but I didn’t like the amount of time I would be walking on the side of a road that didn’t have a footpath and itself was quite busy. I then found an alternative, going under the road. There is such a place that goes under the A23 to allow query traffic access, it was on the route but it would take me on my first hill climb and ascent.

Once you get to the South Downs you can find the South Downs Way and just follow that all the way home. To me that seemed just too easy and a bit boring too, having cycled that way before (southdownsway). For this route I would stay in the lowlands taking me on paths I had never used before. That would be until I got to the salt plains of Bramber which, once again, were paths I had taken many times before. Instead, I would cross the Downs by going up some pretty steep climbs and then down the other side.

Another “easy way out” is locating the Downs Link path which follows the old railway line taking me mostly to my doorstep (give or take a mile or so). I didn’t want to do that as once again it is a path I have cycled regularly (downslink), so instead found a way back over the Downs taking me direct (if I were a crow flying and not having the climb up hills) to Lancing from the top. Normally you enter Lancing from the west or the east. Never the south unless you are in a boat, and never from the north as the South Downs cuts off any road access, but not ancient footpaths.

I spread out my OS Explorer map on the floor and marked my route in yellow pen. By doing the route on paper meant I had no way of telling just how long the walk might be. Hassocks is 10 miles away if you were a bird, around 20 miles by car because you have to go to Brighton first and then turn left and up to Hassocks. I felt if I was zigzagging the Sussex country side footpaths in a more direct route then it might be around 15 miles. I was ok with that. The other weekend we walked 7 miles around London and ignoring that 15 is more then double 7, in my head it sounds much the same. Also, I know from the “scientific research” done by the blokes on All The Gear YouTube channel, 46 miles is the total maximum over 24 hours. My 15-20 miles seemed fine and doable in around 6 to 7 hours (ie I thought if I left early enough then I would be back home by mid afternoon)

Doing

Early I did leave, catching a commuter train at 07:30 to Hassocks. It turns out Hassocks is quite a commuter station for people travelling to work in London, I was surprised by the length of the train and how there seemed to be more people on Hassocks platform getting on the train as I got off than there was in the small town itself. I was also surprised by the light drizzle and low cloud. While it had not been the brightest of weather when I left Lancing it seemed the weather was a lot worse the other side of the Downs. Annoyingly it had been unusually good weather and high temperatures for weeks, today would be the break in that. I had pondered hard what to pack for a warm day, at the last minute I grabbed a small fold up rain jacket (the one I use on my bike) just in case. As I walked along the platform, that case had been made and I deployed the rain jacket and looked at my unsuitable footwear for a wet day.

It was early and the first part of the walk was familiar along the edge of the railway line back towards Brighton for a bit, making my way towards Clayton railway tunnel but turning off to cross the railway before I would get there. This went past Clayton Wood Natural Burial Ground which was looking nice with tree blossom and the last of the daffodils. The idea is that a tree is planted instead of a grave stone which will turn the meadow into a small wood in years to come. It was pretty peaceful, I said hello as I walked past the hut with the rangers just starting their day.

From now on it would be all un-explored paths although with the familiar view of the South Downs to my left. Crossing fields, over stiles and chatting with the odd white horse.

The weather had not improved by the time I got to the base of Wolstonbury Hill. I would have to cross this in order to come down the other side in the place to go under the A23. With all the possible footpaths going upwards I picked the wrong one a couple of times, unsure I had chosen the right path and keeping a close eye on the map for features I should be able to see. I was able to quickly find the correct path, upwards, up until the low cloud. It really was a wet drizzly day so far and as I climbed up I soon lost sight of everything as I ventured onwards in the low wet cloud. I could hear the A23 below and I’m sure the views would had been great.

It would had been so easy to look at the GPS to get an idea of my location and how far up I was, if I had reached the top even. I managed to shy away from this which made the adventure a bit more. Once through the woods and near the top it was really just the case of following the single track through the the mist. I was able to make out tumulus mounds on my left which looking at the map gave me a clue of how far I had gone through until eventually I met a junction with other paths and it was time to descend. The photos maybe don’t show it but the descent was extremely steep, coming out the mist pretty quick as I lost height, edging my way down careful not to slip. I was thankful I was not going upwards at the same rate.

I was soaked with drizzle and mist as I got to the bottom and could hear other human life within the working query. The sound of traffic was getting louder and I soon came to the bridge that would take me under the A23 and over the the other side. I had driven over this bridge hundreds of times without really thinking about it.

Back to crossing fields walking through very wet grass and starting to feel the water seep through my socks. I reached Newtimber church. I was hoping for a dry porch to sit in for a cup of coffee but instead had to do with a wet bench outside. I poured a very welcome coffee from my flask and had a couple of small pork pies, sitting in the rain. I felt happy having gone over my first big hill and navigating various paths that were more than just walking from one side of a field to the other. I had also made good time.

The route would next take me through land belonging to Newtimber Place, a house that has it’s own moat. I was on a road that had been cut off from the A23 since it had been duelled in the early 1990s and was now just a little used road going to just Newtimber Place and it’s various out-houses which had been made into holiday lets. Nice places to stay, in the middle of nowhere but very close to the busy road that even though it was not visible, the noise could be heard. It would be quite a way further into my walk before this noise disappeared.

It was raining, my feet were very wet, I could not see much with my glasses on and I could not read the map with my glasses off. The sheep looked fed up and I came to a crossing of many footpaths going off in different directions and none of them very well signposted in the field I was in, it was difficult to decide just which one to take. Having walked through someone’s garden by mistake I decided to bring up the GPS for the first time and get back on the correct path and put an end to the last 30 minutes of aimlessly walking about. This did direct me back to a derelict looking farmer’s yard with limited footpath signage. When I did finally find my way out it was over a newly erected fence which had obviously been a stile to climb over once before. There stood a very old and in need of repair signpost next to it, pointing across the field. I climbed over and made my way quickly out the the farm. I was wet and feeling a bit annoyed at the lack of direction, I wanted to get off this farm and somewhere more inviting.

From one farm to another, at the other side of the field was a gate tall enough to suggest that maybe dinosaurs were grazing within. I let myself through, keeping an eye on velociraptors but instead found a wide path taking me through rows and rows of grape vines. Apart from the massive gate, things were feeling a lot friendlier and the rain had even stopped.

Back into fields, now muddy as well as wet. Getting a bit lost in a field of horses with no obvious way out apart from climbing over a gate. A farm person was in the field watching me and so I felt it wise to look at the GPS to quickly move myself on and out of yet another derelict looking farm yard. The second GPS reference but that would be the last one for the walk.

The map suggested that would be my last farmyard encounter with the path now following the South Downs in parallel. I mostly followed a small stream and found lots of hidden openings that looked more like forgotten magical areas that would open up all green and fresh from the spring rain. The sun had come out at times making me forget all the stresses of the farms. You would soon walk through it, through the narrow path the other side where it would then open up once again.

This opened up to fields and it was just the case of walking through each of them in turn. I spotted some other walkers in the distance, I could tell they were “doing a walk” as one of them had what looked like a map in their hands in much the same way as I had been holding mine the whole way. A quick look at my map showed me their path and mine would soon join, they had come from Fulking direction.

Our paths did join and we walked together and chatted all the way to Edburton. They were staying at Fulking while visiting their daughter in Brighton, just out for a walk to Edburton and then back to Fulking via the South Downs Way. I left them as they started their steep ascent up the Downs. I consulted my map and noticed I had gone slightly off course. Too busy talking and not checking my map. This meant a small walk along the road until I got to a footpath and up back to the fields and on my way. It had been a pleasant walk and chat with the couple but it had added to my miles, it was also coming up to lunch time.

I had decided to have lunch in Toddington woods. Amazingly the weather was now sun and blue skies. I had packed up my rain jacket and was still pretty warm with my t-shirt. It felt like a long straight walk to the woods and once there it took for ages to get to the cross roads of paths in the middle of the woods where I could sit down and have lunch. Coffee, more pork pies, and maybe some crisps.

The weather had now transformed from a drizzly yuk day to sunny and warm. The low cloud over the Downs had gone. For ages I thought I would be walking with limit visibility in the low cloud as I had done with my first hill encounter but now it looked like I would get a good view from the top when I got there. I walked out of the woods and started my climb up the South Downs. This was to avoid the flat salt plains around Beeding (and possibly cows within them). I’m glad I did take the route over the hill but it was a long and steep climb taking probably a good part of an hour. If I had stayed on the flat lands then I would had got home a lot sooner, but then that’s not really what this was all about.

I thought I was getting to the top when I found myself surrounded by sheep, they were just grazing on the edge. By the time I did get to the top, nearing the radio masks and the YHA, I felt like a sit down, cold drink and maybe sort out my soaking wet shoes and socks. There was not much I could do apart from take them off, and put them back on again, but it felt like it did something.

I was now on the South Downs Way and a popular part of it. I was near the YHA and there were DoE students everywhere with brightly coloured covers over their massive ruck sacks. From a distance it looked like brightly coloured jacket potatoes out for a walk, the rucksacks almost bigger than the person wearing it. I was going a lot faster than these groups and passed a lot of them until we all started our long way down off the hill and to the valley with the river Adur running through it. The path was thin and so I become part of a long line of walkers, I was the only one not looking like a bright jacket potato. I got talking to one of them while we walked. He didn’t know where they were going, didn’t know where they were, had no idea of the route but knew they had to walk for 3.5 hours a day. I told him where he was, I told him where he was heading (up the next big hill we could see in the distance), and I told him he was in Sussex and not that far from the sea. I got the feeling he just wanted to get today’s 3.5 hours done before stopping for tea and crumpets, and possibly ginger beer. He thanked me all the same and re-joined his group.

I left them at the bottom of the hill. I would be following the South Downs Way for a tiny bit more but would soon be turning off in the direction for home, which was only four miles or so away. I could had just walked along the river from here, on the flat, and be back in no time, but there would be no fun in that. It was a little walk along the road, following the South Downs Way until I reached the pigs at the top of the hill, here I would venture off on a footpath I had never seen before. It suggested it ended up in a “disused tip” according to the OS map, I’d never seen that either. It skirted around the fields and to my left I could see the easy river walk, I could even see the easy road I could had walked along too, but it was nice to still be going cross country. The footpath did go past the tip which was a big hole with old rubbish in it and something that looked like a burnt out old car. Who knew that was all there?

I was by now on a very familiar road but was soon to leave it (remembering that the idea of the walk was to use roads as little as possible). I had to walk through a farm and past an ancient church (with a rare Sussex Tapsel gate, I’ve talked about these before), and up a massive hill. The farm was busy with visitors, it opens every year at lambing time as a local attraction and there were plenty of families enjoying the now warm weather, having picnics and watching lambs being born. I felt a bit out of place as a knackered looking worn out walker, passing through without stopping. I was now feeling it too, so close to home and still some adventures to be had.

Part of the reason why I chose this path, a path that would take me direct to Lancing over the top of the hill, was the amusing name of “Cow Bottom” and “Cow Bottom Hovel”. Amusing as they sounded, the name and the map showed me they were deep in a valley and I was still climbing upwards. The “hovel” turned out to be a stone enclosure for cow (I assume). It was a nice path but it was painful walking down the steep gradients and it was hard work climbing up the other side. I could almost smell home, but I knew I had to climb back up and then back down the other side of the last hill. It would all be downhill from there, but my feet were now killing me, I was now plodding forwards looking forward to a cup of tea.

I got to the road at Lancing Ring and that marked the end of my off road walk, the rest would be along well known roads back to my front door. As I plodded painfully to the end I distracted myself from the noise of cars by pondering over the day. I had started in cold drizzly rain, got soaking wet in low clouds, and I had ended in warm sunshine.

I had a cup of tea, and a pizza. I had walked 18 miles, mostly cross country, up and down some very big hills. I had learnt lessons that next time I need not feel I had to climb the South Downs and that I could just following the flat path along the river, but for this first time I was glad I had. I thought walking would be too slow compared to cycling, that I would get bored, but I never did. For a 10 mile radius I could had just walked home from Brighton along the seafront but that well travelled path would had been pretty boring along busy streets, a route I have spent a lot of my working life cycling to and from an office.

Next time, somewhere North (not sure), somewhere West (Arundel?).

References

I wasn’t in any way as extreme as these two, but this is what got me thinking about the concept of the walk:

Geowizard: Blindfolded and Stranded! Can I find my way home using no map, compass or main roads?

Wildbeare: STRANDED! Blindfolded & Abandoned 100km from Home. Can I make it back on foot?

Stats

Number of miles: 18

Average Speed: 3.5mph

Number of times ‘lost’ (GPS needed): 2

Number of pork pies eaten: loads

Number of sheep: millions

Number of friends along the way: 2