Cowboy Camping

With the weather in the UK turning decidedly spring like and warm, I fancied trying a bit of Cowboy Camping. I'd not done this before, to sleep out under the stars without any means of shelter. So, no tent, Trailstar or tarp for me, instead my sleeping bag on my mat and a groundsheet. I didn't even bother with a bivvy bag since the weather looked to be set fair and any dew that may form would be contemptuously dismissed by my sleeping bag.

There was another reason for wandering out. Finally, after being unemployed for an age, I had attended a second interview and been offered the job on the spot. The paperwork done on both sides and agreement to start work next Friday meant that I wanted to grab a bit of 'thinking time' away from the structure of home, and to commune with nature for a while. It would be a true wander, to meander at will wherever I wanted (within reason) and to still, to quieten down and get my head together.

I struck out on Friday after lunch, with my kit packed in the faithful GoLite Jam, food to last me a couple of days if I wanted and no real plan otherwise. The aim was most definitely not to walk miles and miles and bag any hills, instead I took my painting kit and a voice recorder to capture moments, fully intending to meander, maybe dwell in the same spot for a while, and to just 'be'.

And it was fantastic.  It was a gloriously sunny day, the hint of a gentle breeze, but barely a cloud in the cerulean blue sky. Within half a mile of setting off walking I stopped to sort out the voice recorder and as I was doing so was diverted by the sound of some rustling near my feet. Looking down at the ground to where the sound was coming from my eyes adjusted to see a short tailed vole, it's coat almost the colour of a hazel nut, but so tiny it was about the third of the size of my palm. I stopped to watch it as it went about it's business, making short, sharp, skitterish movements from one leaf to the next. After a couple of minutes I shifted balance and it suddenly noticed me and took cover in a run in the undergrowth. All from a matter of 4 ft from my feet!

Continuing on I could see Sycamore leaves bursting out, Hawthorn buds starting to swell, surrounded by bright green leaves. Seedlings coming up through bracken, perennial Rosebay Willow Herb starting it's annual stranglehold on hedgerows, life really starting to speed up now. Throughout all this the sound of birdsong was just incredible. Skylarks punctuated the sky; occasionally I was able to glimpse one as it plummeted to earth before pulling up at the last minute to land to meet it's partner, somewhere in the heather. The drumming of a Great Spotted Woodpecker gave it's position away. I just decided to amble over towards the noise and to wait until my eyes would catch sight of something flitting between trees and I'd spot the black and white bird before it started to drum again. I carried on in this way, not really following human paths, instead being guided by my feet along animal tracks and seeking out any wildlife if the sight or sound gave it away.

After spending a happy afternoon doing this, stopping occasionally to make a brew or to just listen or watch, I scouted around for a likely spot to set up for the evening. I pitched quite early, about 30m from a crossroads of footpaths. It was only about 6 PM which meant that I spent the next hour wondering if I'd be found by passers by. I needn't have worried, I didn't see a soul, but I skirted my 'camp' to view it from different angles to check. Deciding I'd be alright I went back and settled in. It felt like luxury, to be able to recline with your back against a tree, ensconced, all cosy in my bag with my stove next to me, open views all around! It made so much difference than to be in a tent, tarp or shelter where you would have to sit upright unsupported, or laying down and trying to read.

I spent the next hour or two just reading, having a brew and listening to the birdsong around me. There were all sort of birds, Blue Tits, GreatTits, Blackbirds, Woodpigeons, Chaffinches, Robins, Jays with their raucous squawking and many more besides. They quietened down as twilight passed into dusk and I put my book down to stare up through the trees at the stars above me and enjoying the warm pine scent. I started to feel quite sleepy and peaceful and it wasn't long before I was soundly asleep, and it wasn't quite 9PM by then...

I awoke a couple of hours later. Not for any particular reason other than the sliver of a moon shining brightly in the night sky. The land wasn't dead by any means. Tawny owls were calling and even in the middle of the night there was still the odd Pheasant cry. At one point I laughed as, being camped just off a small animal track, I heard some Yoda-like grunts from something that followed the path past me. I could only tell it was there from the noise it was making and how it appeared first on one side of me and then the other. I had no idea what it was, and still don't, but there was no sign of a major light sabre battle in the morning!

Waking up, the morning was on the chilly side, which was warmed slightly by two cups of coffee. Mist was gently rising in the valley but I was elevated so happily avoided that cold caress. Looking behind me to where the sun had already been up for an hour, the trees were backlit, their leaves a luminous, golden infused green.

The birds welcomed me back and I finished my coffee before packing up to head into the open and to enjoy my breakfast in the warmth of the sun.


The sky was incredible! A lone contrail pierced the early morning haze, the clouds reminding me of ripples on the sea when you're becalmed. The haze was warmed through a few hours later, the day building up to one of the warmest of the year so far. I wandered around again for an hour, just being nosy, watching the odd Hare, spotting a Green Woodpecker, being mindful of snakes sunning themselves. Ground nesting birds lifted into the sky seeming to enjoy the morning as much as I did.

I was about to sit on the edge of a bank when I noticed it was dotted with small holes. I paused a while to stop to watch as solitary bees entered and disappeared into their homes. Glad I hadn't disturbed them, I instead found a fallen tree to perch on, obligatory rabbit warren under the roots, and had some porridge and a cup of tea.


Another Hare shot forward out of the heather about 20m away, unmistakable with a dark brown fleck on it's ear and the way it bounded rather than a rabbit hop. I took my sketchbook out and tried to get a feel for the scene before me, daubing some paint on some cartridge paper which buckled with the water and dried all too quickly in the warmth. This set the scene for much of the rest of the day, wandering, stopping, watching, contemplating, drawing, drinking, moving on. Finally I just laid down on some scrubby grass, surrounded by the bees and birdsong, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face. I didn't reach any big conclusions; I hadn't gathered my thoughts about the big changes coming up in my life. But I knew this was a place I could return to when I needed it, to head to the outdoors, to pack up and take off for a night, a day, a weekend, more?