Rewild a Child

My children are wild!

This is a good thing, a really good thing. Research has shown that contact with nature and the wild world around us is excellent for a child's development. It builds confidence and curiosity and reduces stress and anxiety levels. We fit as much wildness as we can into their everyday lives, though it can be hard around school, homework, friends and sleepovers, dance classes and circus classes. What was a real treat was to be able to take them away for a week in the summer for a truly wild week in the Lake District.

To make it a little more exciting, we combined the trip with a Family John Muir award. I find kids love having that kind of recognition to motivate them, and the idea of getting a certificate at the end of it would keep them energised and focused. Actually, I'm just the same too, and relished the idea of adding another piece of paper to my wall. We worked on our proposal as a group, and the kids really contributed to the list of activities we were planning.

One thing that this trip really emphasised for me is the kind of wild creatures that really capture children's attention. I'm a very keen birder, and I'm trying to encourage them in that direction. Sometimes it's very successful. Last year they had wonderful trips to see a Starling murmuration and a harrier roost, where they saw their first Hen Harriers (a species they'd learned about at school as part of the skydancer project) before the sky filled with swirling snow and swirling Marsh Harriers. They also loved watching half a dozen Red Kites soaring together along the Derwent Valley, a trip my seven year old son had requested after seeing one of the birds painted on the side of a bus! They do well with those kinds of big spectacles. They also love any opportunity to get close to birds, as they did with the Kittiwakes on the Baltic and the Chaffinches we saw perching on the hide windowsill at Kielder. However, outside of these encounters it's hard to generate a lot of enthusiasm for the kind of birding that makes up a large proportion of my life, trying to id waders or ducks on a large pond or picking a warbler out of a leafy canopy. This is understandable, they are still young and that is a lot of effort for not a whole lot of reward if I am honest.




What my kids love is creepy crawlies, bugs, insects, minibeasts, and things of that ilk. They've been going pond dipping and rock pooling for years, and it does allow them to get really close to the creatures they are looking at, literally hands on in some cases. This was something we were very prepared for on this trip. The holiday lodge we were staying in is a few minutes walk away from the Cumbria Wildlife Trust's Barkbooth Lot reserve, a fantastic, quiet little nature reserve that combines woodland, a stream and an open fell top area with an excellent selection of butterflies and dragonflies.


 We spent several days there, armed with our new sweep net, butterfly net, pooters and collection jars. Before they went too wild, however, I gave them all strict instructions around the proper use of the equipment, including not to try and catch any of the rare and protected Fritillary Butterflies we might see, and to be careful around the ponds with leeches. They learned about teneral dragonflies and to be particularly careful with them. They learned to stick to the paths, such as they were through the ferns, and not to disturb the anthills that dotted the landscape.



As it happens, it was one of the quietest summers I've ever seen there for butterflies and dragonflies. The only large dragon we saw was a single Emperor, none of the other hawkers or chasers seemed to be present. Likewise, last summer I saw three different Fritillary species in one afternoon. This year I saw none, though my daughter was thrilled that the first butterfly she managed to catch was a Gatekeeper, a rare species that I got rather excited about.

 The lack of "rares" didn't bother the kids at all, and all day long I was being presented with minibeasts of all descriptions, with Shield Bugs, moths, Ladybirds and my first ever dung beetle. Some of them I could identify, but many others were photographed for future reference.




 A core part of my child-rewilding project has been the National Trust's 50 Things to Do Before You're 11 3/4, and I took an idea out of their Extra Messy edition. Each child had a jam jar, that they collected berries, petals and anything else they found to make a smelly potion (that was NOT for tasting!). Back at the lodge we added water, and then baking powder and vinegar to make bubbling smelly potions. This was great fun and I'll definitely try it again. We had a lot of debate about who had the best smelling potion, the nicest looking potion and the bubbliest potion and there was a surprising amount of variation on every count.

Of course the National Trust aren't the only ones who promote wild experiences for children, and it just so happened that we were away over the weekend of the RSPB's Big Wild Sleepout. my kids tried this last year with a tent in their back garden. They must have liked it because they ended up sleeping out there for almost a week. Last year I started getting into microadventures and wild camping though, and I wanted this year's to be a proper wild sleepout. So after a bbq dinner we headed up into the woods opposite our lodge to find a decent spot to camp. We'd been for a walk there earlier in the trip and found an excellent clearing near the top, but walking up in the dusk we settled for a smaller but just as serviceable clearing that wasn't nearly as far. There was a nice, flat grassy area for the kids to pitch their tent and a wide choice of trees for my hammock. Everybody slept really well up among the trees, giving me the confidence to try slightly wilder sites in future, and my older two are quite keen to give hammock camping a try, after climbing into mine the next morning.

 It was nice to be able to pack up in the morning though, and be back at the lodge ten minutes later for breakfast. Maybe in 2017 we'll just try hammock camping in the same bit of woods, and build up from there.

30 Days Microadventure

Last night I slept in the woods.

This wasn't something I'd been planning, but it made sense for two reasons, two challenges. The first is Alastair Humphreys' microadventure challenge, or rather his Great British Summer Microadventure Challenge (linky) where he's trying to get an overnight microadventure happening in every county of the UK in June.  A microadventure can be as simple as spending a night sleeping on a hill, a beach or in a wood, preferably without a tent. Now, I've already done one of these, with my overnight stay in North Yorkshire, but last week I discovered that Tyne and Wear hadn't been done yet.  I could hardly leave my home county as a blank space on his map, could I?  Plus, Alistair has prizes to give away, and I could really do with the kit!  (Did I mention his excellent blog? Just follow the link above, and if you like the idea of microadventuring, he's also written a book on it).

The second challenge is the Wildlife Trust's 30 Days Wild challenge, which is coming to an end today.  I've loved doing this but have been struggling a bit for the last week, so I really wanted to finish it off with something special.

Now this was the fourth night this year I've spent sleeping in the wild, but it was very different to the others.  This is because there was no other purpose to it.  I wasn't backpacking and spreading my trip over multiple days.  I wasn't there to see any nocturnal wildlife or to get an early start on a day's birding.  I was purely there for the fun of a night in the woods.  I didn't even take my binoculars or camera! I was also pleasantly surprised how much lighter my pack was without my cooking kit, so maybe it's time to shop for a lightweight stove!  I arrived at the woodland centre at about ten o'clock at night, walked up to a nice, remote spot where I'd actually practiced with my hammock one afternoon in March, spent the night and came home on the first bus at half past five.

Just like in Yorkshire I took my hammock but didn't bother with a tarp cover.  It really makes a huge difference to the feel of it, you feel so much more open and not at all like you would in a tent.  Obviously there's also a big difference in how sheltered you are and I certainly wouldn't fancy a wet or windy night without it, but one of the beauties of microadventuring is that you can easily base it around the weather.  This time though I did throw my new bivvy bag in on top of my sleeping bag for some protection in case of showers.  I discovered it kept me a lot warmer, even if I didn't need the waterproofing.  My hammock has a built-in mosquito net that I hadn't used before last night but that got used too as the midges started biting as I was setting up.

One thing I love about hammock camping is that it totally changes how you look at camping sites.  This is particularly useful in woods, where it's hard to find an open spot that's level and clear of roots and stumps.  With the hammock I don't even need to clear the pine cones away!

I was far from alone in the woods.  There were at least two Tawny Owls calling earlier on, a deer barking off in the distance, and then I was woken shortly after three by a roding Woodcock flying, grunting and whistling over my head.  Shortly after this, the Song Thrushes got the dawn chorus started, with the Woodcock joining in as best he could, before everyone else joined in.  It was a really special treat to be able to just lie there, snug and warm, drifting in and out of sleep to that orchestra and a wonderful way to start the last day of my 30 days wild.  It was made even better when a gorgeous young Fox wandered along the path just a few metres away, totally oblivious to me.

Sleeping up there, I felt like I was somewhere remote, somewhere wild.  It was actually quite startling to see that just five minutes walk had me back at the bus stop on a fairly busy road, and to be back in Newcastle in twenty minutes.

It felt like quite a big leap doing this, in some ways a bigger leap than backpacking across the Highlands or the North York moors, because I was still so close to urban centres, but it's definitely something I'll be doing again!

24 Hours Wild

 Truth be told, I was a little nervous about this one.  It was going to be my first time wild camping in England, rather than in Scotland where the law is a lot more on the side of the camper.  But I'd wanted to do this trip since the start of the year, and I've vowed to do things this #30DaysWild that pushes my limits and scares me a little. So I headed down to Wykeham Forest on the North York Moors with my hammock for 24 hours living wild in the forest.

I'd already put it off a couple of times, when the weather didn't look quite right or I had other priorities, but this time I had several days totally free and the weather looked absolutely perfect for a spot of raptor watching from the Wykeham Forest raptor viewpoint, so, large backpack on my back I set off for a long bus ride from Newcastle to Scalby, just north of Scarborough, a mere seven miles walk from Wykeham Forest!

One of the nice benefits of going somewhere for an overnight trip instead of going there and back in a single day is that there is a lot less pressure to get an early start.  When heading up into Northumberland or across to Cumbria I'm frequently out before 7am.  On Saturday I was a tad more leisurely and ended up on the 10:50 bus.  My planned stop-off at Scaling reservoir was knocked on the head when the bus started climbing up onto the North York Moors into ever thickening mist.  There wasn't much point going birding somewhere I wouldn't be able to see the birds, so I stayed on until Scalby, where the sun was shining and the sky was blue.

The route from the village to the forest was nice and easy to find because it followed a long-distance route, the Tabular Hills Walk, from "door" to "door" and was really clearly signposted. I have no idead where this path ultimately leads to, but it really helped to eb able to follow it.

It started with a really pleasant walk along a slow moving stream, with a Painted Lady butterfly leading me down it for a while and then a Sparrowhawk cut straight across my path and disappeared into the trees opposite.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and all was right with the world.  There were Orange-tips everywhere, maybe half a dozen Painted Ladies and more Diamondback moths than I cared to count.

 Then, something whirred over my head.  At first I assumed it was another butterfly, but when I managed to find it I discovered a damselfly, and not just any damselfly but an immature male Beautiful Demoiselle.  This is a damselfly I've wanted to see ever since I first heard its name and saw a drawing of it three or four years ago, and this was my first one! Not something I'd been expecting to see on this trip but very, very welcome nevertheless.

After the river, I had a mile or so to walk along a country road and then a short and very steep hike up Lang Gate, into the forest itself.  From there it wasn't too far to the first viewpoint, where I found some trees that looked suitable for hanging my hammock from.  I walked along to the raptor viewpoint, where disappointingly everything I could (almost) see was shrouded in mist.  This wasn't the weather I'd been expecting, and I started to get a little concerned that if the Sunday was the same I wouldn't be seeing many raptors.  I made myself some dinner, relaxed for a while, explored a bit and then settled down in a clear fell area just next to the viewpoint to try and see some Nightjars.

Unfortunately I failed to see or hear any Nightjars there, though I was treated to a fantastic roding Woodcock flying back and forwards over my head making that wierd little call they make.  It was already the best views I'd had of this usually secretive bird before he landed on a large pile of stones just two metres in front of me.  It was a chill and misty night, which may have kept the Nightjars away, or they might have been putting on a fine show elsewhere.  I'd seen several other birders earlier in the evening who must have been looking somewhere else.  At about 11 I headed back to the first viewpoint, where I put my hammock up in the dark, so as not to disturb the young couple parked up in the car park, who I guess were waiting for someone who never arrived.  It was the first time I've used my hammock without a tarp shelter over the top, which was really quite lovely.  You feel so much more out in the open that way, whereas with the tarp you are effectively in a well ventilated tent.  

I love my hammock.  It's so easy to set up and is really quite comfortable when you get it right.  This trip had another purpose: I'm hoping to contribute to Alastair Humphreys' Great British Summer Microadventure Challenge details here. A few isolated drops of water fell on my head, possibly from condensed mist in the trees above me but never enough to be a problem or to justify putting up the tarp cover.

The next morning was initially still fairly misty, but it soon cleared into a beautiful sunny day.  After a few hours of watching from the raptor viewpoint with a couple of very friendly birders from Leeds and York, we were rewarded with splendid views of  the first reported Honey Buzzard in the forest this year, doing its wing-clapping display flight and heading slowly down the valley past us before disappearing into the trees opposite. Later in the morning I got chatting to a couple who'd come up from Norfolk for a week.  Without these encounters I think it could have been a very long, lonely vigil there, but with them it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.  The guy from Leeds told me that he'd made it his aim in recent years to see all 15 British birds of prey species, which got me doing a lot of working out on my fingers as to which ones he meant.  I'm pretty sure that with the addition of Honey Buzzard to my life list I've now seen all fifteen, with bonus points for a Red-footed Falcon.

I left them all to it at noon, to spend some time exploring the tree nurseries before I headed back for my buses home. I'm not sure what I expected the nurseries to be like, but they are absolutely amazing: field after field of tiny little trees that made me feel like a giant in a forest.   

They are all tightly packed together and stretch on for such a long way.  Different parts of the nurseries have trees at different stages of growth.  I guess its pretty obvious that this is where the big trees originally come from, I've just never considered it before or expected it to be quite on this scale.

 The nurseries are also a favourite with Turtle Doves, and I coule hear several purring as I walked around it, and finally managed to see a couple.  Another addition to the life list.  The final bird of note was a rather lovely Goshawk just as I was leaving the first viewpoint on my way home.

I'd allowed rather more time than was necessary for the walk back, as I got down the steep Lang Gate a lot quicked than I got up it.  This turned out to be a very good thing, because it meant that I had time to stop at the really rather lovely Everley Country Cafe on the way back for a chilled glass of limonata and a slice of lemon drizzle cake.  According to their visitor logbook they sometimes get Goshawk sightings from the cafe's garden, and I couldn't think of a nicer place to sit and look for one.  I'll definitely be back to try their scones and tea!

I got back to Scalby for 3:30, exactly 24 hours after I'd arrived there, feeling tired but very happy with my trip.