Trail Treasures

One person's trail trash is another's trail treasure

The more often I explore, the more treasures I find. These happy discoveries are always a welcome surprise and the variety of the things I find amazes me and invites speculation on the history of the objects. 

A friend helpfully displaying a roe deer skull

In summer 2011 I found a TomTom satnav at the edge of a field near a busy road, thrown presumably from the window of a speeding vehicle by an enraged delivery driver inconvenienced by the infernal machine's contradictory instructions. At the end of the same field on the same evening I found one of those wide metal hoop fly fishing nets abandoned by a poacher, entangled on a barbed wire fence on the bank of the River Loddon, right under one of those aggressively written "Private No Fishing!" signs. Later that year, a little further along the same route, I found a large bag of sweets carelessly discarded by a child on Halloween, which I helped myself to. 

A Red Kite feather

In the bustling metropolis of Bramley I found a cheapo phone at the bottom of a newly dug ditch; it was unlocked and I rifled through the folders, but there was nothing juicy on it. I picked up an iPhone 4 at Hook station. The screen was smashed - it was probably lobbed by an outwardly respectable boy named Jayden or Tremayne in an uncharacteristic fit of pique. In sunny Basingstoke I returned a high-end smart phone to its owner after they contacted the device; they gave me a lift to say thanks, which was decent.

Outside the Loddon School for learning difficulties I found a pair of Crocs in my size. I expect they were thrown over the fence by an oversize kid having a tantrum. I disinfected them (sharing barefoot shoes is a good way to catch athlete's foot) and wear them around the house. They'd make a great pair of camp shoes.

Walking from Basingstoke to Southampton I found a Silva Ranger compass, RRP £20. It was face down in the mud near Abbotsdown wood. I think I'll use it for LEJOG because it's smaller than my Explorer of the same make yet still feature rich. I sympathise with the original owner and hope they knew where they were going. 

The Trail Trash God giveth, and taketh away 

My walking buddy lost a £170 gore-tex jacket on the shores of Loch Lomond when we were walking the West Highland Way in 2016. We continue to wish the new owner every success in their trekking.

On my first walk from Basingstoke to Reading I lost my camera lens but found a grotesque pink and purple child's mug propped on a branch along a lane notorious for fly tipping. I've used this as a toothbrush holder for years.

Provocatively disgusting trail trash

I've found feathers from buzzards, kites, owls, jays, woodpeckers, grouse, partridge and quail. Some feathers demand attention, such as the tail feathers of magpies. They appear to be plain black and unremarkable, yet on close inspection they reveal themselves to be iridescent green with a blue sheen. I'd like to get my hands on a kingfisher feather. That would be worth finding. 

Occasionally I'll pick up a stone that catches my eye. Rocks are infinite in number and form. They are all different. The complexity is endless. Out of the limitless permutations come colours and shapes that are aesthetically pleasing enough to persuade me to pick them up and carry them for tens of miles because they will remind me of where I found them and I relate them to a particular experience that was significant to me. I found some pleasing pink and yellow igneous rocks that reminded me of sponge cake on the West Highland Way. Near where I grew up the fields are rich in dark red flint. These come to the surface as balls of calcified rock and get broken open by the plough to reveal blood red insides. My mother would show them to me as a child and tell me they were dinosaur eggs. They remind me of home.  

I've found cash, bags of weed, porn, dog leads, clay pigeons, abandoned vehicles, dozens of gloves, enough random cutlery to equip a Mad Hatter's tea party, an attractive Ming Dynasty pottery shard for the fish tank (I say Ming...it's more likely to be Ming the Merciless), bone China dinner plates and saucers, two new pairs of boots abandoned in the forest, an entire caravan joy ridden to smithereens, two jet ski hulls, chairs, a live sparrowhawk... packs of cigarettes and a plantation of opium poppies, although I have yet to find any drinkable alcohol. Folks don't seem to waste their drink in the country; it's a shame they dump their cans and bottles when they're finished. My favourite finds are fields of ripe sweetcorn, potatoes, peas, turnips, grape vines and orchards of pears and apples.