I have just had my first on-the-ground challenge regarding access to land. As a fan of the woods I've been trying to get into a small, local wood since last year. It is ancient woodland of semi-natural origin, which is not common. Most ancient woodland is of plantation origin.
I had tried on other occasions to reach it from two different directions. I knew from the map there was a single building, possibly a house at the end of the track. Provided I wasn't going to infringe privacy, the plan was to turn sharp right at the end along another track or alternatively go past the house and into the wood depending on the lie of the land when I got there. Recently, in the woods opposite, I had turned and walked back the same way for several miles rather than walk past a rural cottage in search of a circular walk.
Near the road were the usual, welcoming signs: No Parking. Private road. Warning: you are being filmed. The No Parking is what had put me off before but I parked further along the verge. Tyre tracks showed I was not the first. At least there were no signs about snares and shooting your dog. I guess they thought most people would be sufficiently put off not to need these as well.
I set off up the track:
I had what might now, after the events that followed, be described as a premonition, but at the time I just found myself realising in a general way that it was probably going to be when rather than if that I would be challenged face to face about access to the land. I didn't realise it would quite so soon.
The reality is not quite as it shows on the map. It was a relief that the right turn is somewhat before not after the house. The track forks. One side goes left up to the garden and cottage. The other fork turns right into the wood.
One would be hard-pressed to argue that walking along the track and turning right into the wood was an invasion of anyone's privacy. Before the dwelling came in view through the trees I had already hesitated because I could hear a lot of dogs barking. Max had had to be coaxed up the track with treats, he was so nervous. Having had a recent, scary experience with dogs outside a farm, I was cautious. Then I saw an enclosure some way ahead, which appeared to be an outdoor kennel in which I thought I saw animal movement. Thinking the dogs were penned I felt safer and continued to head towards the wood. Suddenly, somebody shouted. I turned and saw a man between the house and the kennel looking in my direction. I looked about in case he meant someone else. He shouted again and started to walk towards me. I waited. He was older than me, ruddy looking. He wore country clothes, a deerstalker and had a local accent.
Then the aggressive, angry questioning began. What was I doing?
I indicated the dog. "Er, going for walk."
"Where?"
"Into this wood."
"Why?"
I began to feel irritated. "I think that's my business".
"Well, you can't. You can't just walk up people's drives. This is my drive."
"I'm not walking up your drive. I'm walking up this track into this wood. I have every right to do that"
But he stuck to his guns, which luckily he didn't have literally: "I don't go about walking up people's drives in Perth! You can't come past my house like this". It struck me that in town people walk past houses that are metres away. This house was some distance away along a drive.
"I'm not coming past your house. I can't even see your house." This wasn't strictly true, but then his claim was excessive. Besides, in summer, with more foliage, you probably wouldn't see the house at all.
"You can't see my house? It's right there!"
"I can see a wall, set back, not nearby, behind trees. I'm not invading your privacy. I'm not in your garden. I'm not walking past your windows. I'm not even looking in the direction of your windows. Actually, though, I am going to take a photograph so that if necessary I can show anyone I need to how far away I am." So, standing at the fork I took a photo towards the house and of the other direction towards the wood.
But he wouldn't let up. "You don't have a right to roam", he said, rather redundantly, as I hadn't claimed this. "You have a right to responsible access" he lectured, patronisingly. I began to wonder how many people who might come up here would be clear on the distinction. Not many I thought, in which case it was just an effort at bamboozlement.
I'm not even sure what "right to roam" means and I think that's the point. It doesn't really mean anything, legally. I think it's sometimes taken to mean by some, that you can go anywhere you like, which isn't true. What you can't do is common sense really. You can't disturb livestock or crops or go through gardens. You have to close gates, not cause damage or danger or leave a mess. You don't have a right to go through farmyards either which I find confusing because many tracks lead through farmyards. We tend to avoid them anyway as Max is too scared of them and I avoid houses and farms as far as possible. If we have to, we walk around farmyards or I ask permission or if there's no-one about and it is on a marked track I walk through quickly usually carrying the dog by that stage. I have never been challenged. What I should have started talking about to the angry man was my right to go about my business without harassment, rather than putting up with feeling like I was being hammered.
Then he went too far. He began to talk about my walking up here and coming up to him. I started to get annoyed because this was completely the opposite of what happened. I had been minding my own business. He had hailed me and stopped me and walked over to me while I had courteously waited for him. I made that point. I explained that I had previously tried to go up the track marked on the map opposite the entrance to Broxden wood but that it was overgrown with gorse. We went round that a couple of times whereupon I thought he began to see I was being reasonable. Quite suddenly he gave in, said "Fair enough" and turned on his heel.
He had been so belligerent it occurred to me to wonder if he was hiding something.
His departure had been sudden and it crossed my mind that he might set his dogs on us. The wood petered out in a clearing that had been felled so I turned back and spotted a track into more woodland. There were a couple of non-evergreens, but that was it. No sign of any semi-natural woods. I wondered if they were a remnant.
Not five minutes after we'd left the man, just as I entered the woodland, three sturdy black labradors came hurtling down towards us. I was worried at first but they did not seem aggressive. The man appeared and called off his dogs, which seemed obedient for the most part. He could have gone various ways but started following me into the wood. I now really did feel start to feel intimidated. After a few minutes, I turned around and said so. He denied this was his intention. I said I thought I had a good case: I'd been stopped, unreasonably challenged, at length, aggressively, while doing nothing wrong. He had then let loose three dogs that had chased after us. Then he'd followed me through the wood. He said he was just following his 4pm routine: feed the dogs, walk down the track look at the footprints. I'd seen him feeding the dogs, hadn't I?
- "No", I said. "I wasn't paying you any attention until you shouted at me".
I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn't have a gun. He didn't look like he was going to attack me although he had his dogs. Still, I wanted the situation defused. I explained that I was here to look at the wood but that it all looked like plantation and not as I'd hoped.
"So you like trees?" I could see myself being pigeonholed as harmless and decided to roll with that. Besides, both things were true.
After this he mellowed considerably and we walked down the track talking about the local woods, country things and old maps. He became almost affable. He said Gallowspark wood across the B9112 is to be felled for a biomass factory. I asked where the track we were on led to and he said nowhere which made me think it wasn't much of a 4pm walk for his dogs if that was really what he did daily and wasn't in fact trying to intimidate me or check up on us.
We parted on better terms. He repeated that he hadn't been intimidating me and it was fair enough if I wanted to walk down the track. He just seemed to have been worried I wanted to walk by the house. I guess if you get into a routine of chasing people off perhaps it gets to be normal. I am quite sure one gets better at it. Most people I meet on tracks and talk about access issues with have been easily put off by "Private" signs. I am sure even more are put off by angry men in deerstalkers with dogs. What is it about angry men in the countryside?
I walked around a field and back to the car. I suppose he went back the way he'd come. I would quite like to go back and explore the wood a bit more and see if there is any semi-natural part to it left but I'm not sure I'm brave enough. Still, perhaps the worst is over. I wondered if he'd've been like that if I'd've had a man with me. Or been a man.
It shouldn't be like this.
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