Day 60 (still no Gary): 5 September 2014 Near Oswestry to Overton Bridge

Taxi Johnny from the previous day picked us up promptly after a decent breakfast at the b and b adjoining then pub, where we had spent the night. We were redeposited at our crossroads and were under way by 8.40. Plenty of time to make our day’s destination, the Cross Foxes at Overton Bridge, where we were to be collected at 3 30 by Taxi Johnny, with plenty of time to make the train in Chester. Despite managing to take the wrong path almost straight away, we were soon back on track and making good progress northwards. Today was the day we were to say goodbye to the Offa’s Dyke walk (who wants to go to Prestatyn anyway) and strike off northeast along the Dee. Although this was the one thing we had to worry about, we naturally managed to miss the turn we had intended to make, shortly before Chirk, but got back on track quickly enough.

Our planned route involved a crossing of the Ceiriog, whose north bank we followed for a section that splendidly took us under the viaducts for the Llangollen Canal and the railway, then a pleasant section along the canal before, crossing a main road, we were on the Llwbyr Maelor Way and on the last leg to Overton Bridge. Still plenty of time…but when we were around the Ceiriog/Dee confluence, we managed to go wrong by staying too close to the river. One of John’s cross-country recoveries, involving much scrambling through brambles and bracken and up slopes that challenged Ben’s vertigo (hypnotherapy or not), we eventually got back on track. We were now a bit short of time, but a frisky load of bullocks enabled us to get through Flannog farm briskly enough, and after a rather easier stretch along the Dee, and the old helpful short cut, we made it to the pub at Overton Bridge with twelve minutes in hand.

Our travails were not done yet, however. Taxi Johnny was nowhere to be seen and had to be summoned from Oswestry. His confident demeanour began to wear a little thin as he decided to take us to Chester station through the clogged middle of the city, spurning the rather empty-looking by-pass. We were both booked onto a particular train, John so that he could do a nifty change at Milton Keynes Central and see Gloucester’s first game of the season at Northampton. Missing the train would have been a disaster (although John may wish he’d missed the game: Gloucester lost 53 -6: tries by North (3), Pisi, Burrell (2), Fotuali’i and Fisher).

We made it by just over a minute and were grateful for the red wine freely (as in readily not gratis) available at buffet car. 16.3 miles in 6 hours, 40 minutes.