Summer 2000
It took a while to discover Hankley Common. We had moved into Jam Pot Cottage in 1999 and initially all walks were straight out the front door into the field and up the hill or along the adjacent path and round the corner into a huge open field that was also quite often full of cows. A way further on past a number of other fields and paddocks came a small wood and beyond that was heathland that stretched some way south towards the Devils Punchbowl. It seemed silly to venture further afield, in a car, when so much was on our doorstep. It fitted perfectly well with my desire to not walk the dogs on leads as one could open the door and Jemima and Jesse would run straight into the field. In fact we could walk for mile upon mile of mostly unused paths and woodland without ever coming across a road. It was wonderful.
Our first winter in Elstead saw snow and it made the view from the top of West Hill seem like dreamland. For miles around you could see trees and rooftops covered in snow and I spent 20 minutes at a time just admiring the landscape. Jemima and Jesse too seemed in heaven as they careered around in this strange white landscape chasing falling flakes, kicking up the snow, and eating it. I enjoyed chasing them around immensely and when the opportunity arose I would roll them in snow as much as I could and tried to cover them in it. Of course being dogs they loved the attention and trying to keep them still was impossible!
Over the months after moving in, despite the walks that could be had up and over west hill I started to get a little bored. So one day Christine asked our dog walker where else there was that we could take Jemima and Jesse. One of the recommendations was Hankley Common.
One Saturday we decided to try Hankley for the first time so we loaded up the two hairies into the car and drove down the road a mile or so and turned off down a dusty road as we had been instructed. We trundled along for about a quarter of a mile up a slight incline and found a car park surrounded on two sides by pine trees of various kinds. We pulled up, stepped out of the car and made our way up some steps cut as a path up and through an incline planted with various pine trees. When we reached the top I was amazed. In front of us was heathland that seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. We walked for perhaps 10 minutes along the main path until we came to a small cliff like drop with a sand covered path heading down the slope. As you reached the edge you could see the extent of the valley to the right and again it was a huge area. It was a walkers paradise. It had also been, I found out later, where the Paras trained only up until a few weeks beforehand. Training included parachute jumps into the large open valley floor which was covered in all colours of heather. With the Paras having moved to a new long term base it was now used as a training area for other regiments, including Ghurkas, and the Territorial army. You could often hear the sounds of mock battle with rifle and machine gun fire going off, especially during the hours of darkness, and I found this strangely comforting although it could keep me awake at night.
What luck! Without really trying we had managed to move into an area perfect for dog walking and getting away from the crowd if you needed to. Hankley soon became the walk of choice for me. I loved the fact that you would sometimes be out walking and not see another soul for hours. Over time various routes were invented including one that was perfect for Jemimas feet. To the left of the car park lay a path that was covered in sand which led off to the left of the main route and looped round and over the top of the hill. It was of course partly a bridleway but wasn’t used much during the hours of the day when I would be walking the dogs. Besides Jemima and Jesse took no notice of horses although I would make them sit and wait for any riders to pass.
Long walk or short walk, Hankley became a retreat for me, and for Jemima and Jesse together a place to sniff and to run and to explore. Jesse in particular loved the wide open space and was often seen as a small black dot on the other side of the valley from where I was walking – there was simply no stopping him since he loved being free with so much to explore. Occasionally I would see a large fawn coloured shape moving swiftly along with the small black figure of Jesse in hot pursuit about 30 yards behind. Of course he could never catch a deer as they were too fast and I’m not sure exactly he would do with one if he did – he was a rather soft touch after all.
My favourite memories from Hankley however were the ‘flattenings’. Every walk, especially those through the centre of the valley where the largest and deepest puddles were to be found after heavy rain, would see Jemima at a point decided by her begin stalking Jesse like a tiger. She would be down low, creeping through the grass, watching Jesse intently as the poor little man would be running about chasing the air not knowing what was coming. Until that is the moment he spotted her. He would then stop and there would be a moment of realisation that sometimes lasted only milliseconds before he would turn the other way and run as if his life depended on it. Jemima would then explode into action just like a predator and gracefully yet powerfully close in on her prey. She could run much faster than Jesse plus she had quick feet, was lithe and nimble, and her speed of reaction meant she would catch him regardless of manoeuvre. With the usual three pointed “Woh woh woh!” she would bring Jesse down at the neck. He would then roll over and again try to get away in the other direction. It was no use – she would catch him again but this time at a slower speed and when she had him on the ground she would grab him by the loose folds of his neck and drag him along. Considering Jesse was usually 10kg heavier than Jemima it was no mean feat.
This scene was played out over and over again and once Jemima even tried, once she had Jesse down in a deep puddle, to drown him by placing her paw on his head and pushing it under the water. I’m sure he would have escaped at some point but I did intervene on that occasion. Once the hunting event had run it’s course Jemima, satisfied, would carry on her sedate walk while Jesse would return to running his unpredictable path, here and there, chasing the air again and just loving being free. These were good times.
