Hiking – Page 23 – My Outdoor Living Room

“Damned English Oak!”

The immortal words spoken by Morgan Freeman in the 1991 film, Robin Hood Prince of Thieves as he and Kevin “Doesn’t matter if I’m American” Costner attempt to break into a room in the castle to rescue Maid Marion. And he had a point – oak is a solid, natural material, which is great – unless you’re trying to break into a tower. For those that have been to Sherwood Forest, you will also note that Robin’s tree is called the Major Oak – a huge, sprawling beast of a tree, steeped in legend and folklore.

I have many favourite trees. Some by their species, others purely based on their position, shape or climbing ease, but the Oak rarely fails to stop me in my tracks. It happens to be the first tree species I learned to identify by the shape of its leaf as a child, thanks to my mum, whose tree knowledge is still pretty much superior to mine. On walks, especially in park land or where there are fields with hedgerows, I frequently stop to admire a solitary Oak, perhaps in the middle of a field, or part of the hedgerow. Even one that is felled can be beautiful, providing life for no end of creatures.

In Britain, we have five species of Oak. Only two of these are native however (pedunculate oak and the sessile oak), the others were imported. The sessile Oak in fact is the national tree of Wales. Oak trees have been part of our landscape since the end of the last Ice Age – a whopping 12,000 years. So it’s no wonder they’ve become engrained into our folklore and culture. These icons can live for over 1,000 years and to a height of 30 metres. It was thought that a branch of Oak possessed magical powers. Mistletoe growing on an Oak was also thought to carry mystical power. If you carried an acorn in your pocket, it was believed that you were protected against disease and doing so promoted long life. If it was wealth that you seeked, planting an acorn at the time of a new moon was said to bring it, and placing an acorn in a window was said to protect the house from a lightning strike. I wonder how many people stopped reading at the wealth part.

Aside from being vital to our native ecosystem, Oak has been of important use to us humans over the centuries. The Mary Rose, King Henry VIII’s flagship, was made almost solely of English oak. Around 600 trees were cut down to build her, but didn’t save her from sinking unfortunately. Staying with royalty, King Charles II hid in an Oak at Boscobel while Oliver Cromwell’s soldiers looked for him below. May 29th was designated Royal Oak Day or Oak Apple Day to commemorate the restoration of Charles II to the throne in May 1660, although evidence suggests this already existed in pre-Christian times.

I am always amazed by tree saplings, especially Oak, as I realise that one day, when I’m long gone, it will be the giant of the woods, and hopefully future generations will also gaze in wonder at it.

I have always loved not living in a city. I think if I did, it probably wouldn’t be as bad as I think it would be. Working in the city is enough for me and I can accept the lack of green space, the bustle of people, the various social problems and the constant stream of man made noises, because I get to leave every night.

Sometimes living in a town can feel like a cage too though. For me, there’s nothing better than escaping, even if for a few hours, somewhere rural, quiet, maybe somewhere I can find space and solitude. In the towns I have lived during my life, I have always done this; looked for escape routes out, like it’s a maze. It’s interesting how in some cases, I had to pass through portals where suburbia ended and guaranteed space began. I have yet to find one where I currently live, although on my regular run, I head out into the countryside, usually in the darkness of evening or early morning, and I run past the last lampost of town. I pass under it and then watch my feet as they and the tarmac beneath them get gradually darker and darker.

Where I used to live, one of the exit points was an underpass beneath one of the relief roads. Once I was through that, I was into a magnificent park. Then through that and I was on a single track lane. The most difficult decision then was ‘Which way, left or right?’ It was a great way of shrugging the town off, leaving all that hum and concrete behind, being full of hope and excitement for what I might find.

It just goes to show that if you don’t have the means of travel, the budget or even the time, but have the desire and imagination, you can do this within a few miles of your front door. A good idea to try is the five to nine challenge. This is one for the summer really, unless you have the gear and are really keen. It’s where you finish work at five, and see where you can get to and back from by nine PM. This could be walking, running, cycling. A really adventurous twist on this could be swapping nine PM with nine AM, throwing in a wild camping spot and then arriving at your place of work as if you’ve been home. It all depends on where you live I guess.

I’m sure everyone reading this can think up adventures to have on their own urban doorsteps. Such a world of possibilities, a plethora of wonders to see and feel down every footpath, on every tree and stream. I’m going to set myself a small challenge to find a portal out of town, explore it for an hour or so and see what I can discover.