HEADLINE: American Lost In Hundred Acre Wood!

The great A. A. Milne wrote one of the most popular children's books of all time. You may recognize the name... Winnie The Pooh. His literary talents have captured audiences for decades, as he made the lovable bear and his entourage come to life in the magical place called "The Hundred Acre Wood". So, when I discovered that I was only a short hour away from the actual forest that the cuddly Pooh Bear originated from, I decided to embark on an adventure of my own.

The Hundred Acre Wood is, in reality, The Five Hundred Acre Wood which is set inside Ashdown Forest in East Sussex, England. In case you couldn't gather from the name, it's a big forest. Really big. I had been in dire need of some nature...forest, landscapes, fields... as I have missed it terribly. I believe that my close proximity to all things "country" my whole life was taken for granted, but is now in the forefront of my mind whilst surrounded by tall buildings and city congestion. So I set off at about 9:30 by train. I was disappointed when I got to the station and realized the forest was much farther away than I thought, and had to take a cab to get there. I started at the Hartfield Church... and was supposed to be hiking for about 3 1/2 hours (about 8.7 miles). Before leaving, I had written down a specific hike that I found online that appeared to have pretty good directions.

The hike first took me through a set of four different fields. The view was green with rolling hills with trees sporadically laid over the landscape. I had to climb over three or four fences to stay on the foot path that went through the fields. The directions took me to a back road, and on either side were fields of cows. I thought at first that they were buffalo...they were the color of buffalo and had horns, but upon closer inspection they were just good ol' cows. Even here, I was in awe of the rises and dips in the land. Miles away I could see the green and brown patches of fields in perfectly crafted squares of farmland, neatly cut and tilled.

Shortly after passing the farms, I entered the wood. It was a rather cloudy day and the overhang of the treetops above made things dark and dreary looking. The path was thankfully clearly marked, although it looked as though no one had been on it for quite some time as overgrowth began to suffocate the space that parted through the trees. Leaves were piled high on the path, and my foot would sink down an alarming 6 inches or more with each step. I heard something to my right...something was crunching in the woods. I stopped short, suddenly very aware of my seclusion and isolation. Again...I heard leaves and branches snapping, they seemed to be getting closer. My heart began to pound in my chest. I stood frozen. I thought to myself...

"Hmm, if pooh bear was based in this forest, maybe he was based on the sighting of a real bear?".

Within seconds I talked myself into believing whole heartedly that I was about to be mauled by a bear that had been the inspiration of Winnie the Pooh. Then came the growl... I heard a deep low growl, finished by a deep hoarse bark. Yep it's a bear. Definitely a bear. I'm going to die. The bear will definitely eat me. Again, I hear the growl/bark and I silently reach into my side pocket of my bag and my fingers fumble around and grab hold of a pen. Maybe I could stab it in the eye and then....

Just as I was thinking that courageous and very threatening plan of defense, I heard the cracking of sticks even more so...it was deafening. And it was moving towards me. Fast. I went from freeze mode to flee mode and just as I raised my leg to begin my sprint of escape I looked up and there...oh God, there it was...

A herd of about 25 deer running through the woods in front of me. I froze again, dumbfounded with my mouth gaping open, unsure if I was more shocked that I hadn't been mauled by a bear, or by the sheer amazement of the sight in front of me. It was beautiful. A large 10 point buck was bringing up the rear of the herd, and he stood for a minute, looked towards me and wouldn't you know, he let out a long growl at the end of which turned into a grumbling, warning bark. I stood there laughing to myself for a moment, collected my nerves that i almost expelled all over the forest floor, and carried on my journey.

The woods lasted for quite some time, and finally I came to the A.A. Milne memorial in the forest. It rested high atop one of the hills and looked over miles of English countryside. I sat there for some time, breathing in the sight, soaking it into my memory. Despite the clouds, some sunlight managed to trickle down from the sky leaving a brilliant effect on the ground below, highlighting the patches of green and tan landscape that rolled away into the horizon. This was about 7 miles into my journey and I should have had only about 45 minutes left to go. All that was left was Pooh's Bridge.

The directions had been very easy to follow, up until this point. The paths were no longer marked, and rather than one direct path, there were several paths splitting off in various directions. I followed the directions as closely as I could, but when I came to a main road I felt disoriented and thought it best to turn around and take a different route, as the directions said nothing about a road. So I turned around and walked about 2 miles in the opposite direction. Again I came to a point were several paths went in, literally, 6 different directions. I looked towards my right and saw a horse (thankfully with a woman riding it) trotting up the path. She informed me that I should never have turned around and instead, should have crossed that road that I came to and carried on in the wood. Trying my best to keep my composure, I turned around and walked the two miles back to where I had been. There seemed to be more people walking along this part of the path, all who graciously pointed out the way to Pooh Bridge for me.
I was excited to see Pooh Bridge... the one that had come to life in the Winne The Pooh stories. The place where they play Pooh sticks! yay! And when I had happened to finally come upon it, it was....it was....very anticlimactic. Quite frankly, it was disappointing. It was a small foot bridge that crossed what one could barely consider a stream. Although, I suppose, this was a vestige of A.A. Milne. When thinking on it, I can hardly imagine some flashy Hollywood inspired conundrum in the middle of this forest that has so far been totally unscathed by human advancement.

I took a picture, and carried on, so thankful that I was close to the finish. My body was exhausted by this point and I was already an hour and a half over the time it should have taken me. I noticed as well that dark would be quickly approaching. It was about 3:50pm and with the scare I had earlier, I did not want to be stuck in this forest in the dark. No-thank-you. The last piece of my directions said to go through a few more fields, following the footpath and when I came to the main road, take a right back into Hartfield.

I came to the road, surprised to find it a bit run down and with no visible spot to walk on each side. I started down the road to the right and every time a car came, I had to jump up on the steep embankment bordering the road so I was not run over by a car. I was so very tired, and there was nothing around me on this road. Something seemed off. I came to this old woman who was sitting on the side of the road (not sure what her deal was) and asked her if the direction I was walking was the way to Hartfield. She nodded but said nothing. So I kept going.

I walked and walked and walked. I realized that I was now racing the sun. Darkness was falling upon me. There were no people, no houses, nothing. Screw this, I thought to myself. I got out my phone to try and have a cab pick me up from where I was. Damn it! Emergency calls only. No service. So I kept on walking, although I had a small festering fear in the pit of my stomach. There was no real civilization in sight and I had already walked about 2 1/2 miles on this road. My legs were about to give out, and I had no water left. I was drenched in sweat, because I realized I wasn't just walking on the road, I had actually been climbing a mountain when I turned and looked behind me at the downward slope. I thought "ok, this isn't funny anymore, I'm going to have to call for help". I fully intended on calling the police, as my phone was able to make emergency calls. I pulled my phone from the depths of my bag and to my utter dismay...my phone had died. No battery. Dead. Gone. I choked back tears and I was ready to collapse. Hitchhiking actually crossed my mind...but I was in that "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" kind of area, if you know what I mean, and couldn't muster the courage for such danger.

It was almost dark and I feared all hope was lost until I heard the sound of a hose... Up ahead I saw a large gate leading in to some kind of estate. The gate was closed, but I was able to lean over it and I saw a short little old man washing some caked mud off the tires of his old pickup truck.

"Excuse me! Excuse me, Sir?"

"Yes love, are you alright?" The man inquired gently.

"Can you tell me...is this the way to Hartfield?" Pointing in the direction I had been walking for the last 3 miles.

"No, it is back that way quite a few miles I'm afraid. Are you alright dear?" the man asked.

When he informed me that I had walked three miles...almost an hour and a half...up a mountain...in the wrong direction trying to race the sun...I broke. I literally dropped to my knees and started sobbing. Yup. Balled like a baby in front of this poor old man's gate.

"My God, are you in trouble my dear? Are you alright?" I realized later that he probably was concerned not only because of the incessant crying, but because of my appearance. My hair was soaked through and dripping with sweat, I had mud on my pants up to mid calf, burrs stuck to my shirt and I probably stunk worse than the animals in his barn. Ha!

My story of the days journey spilled out of me along with every tear my body could produce. When I finished, the man promptly excused himself and came back seconds later with his car and told me he was taking me to the train station. I thought to myself for a second that it may be dangerous, but I figured this man was so frail and old that if he tried anything sneaky...I could take him. He ended up being the sweetest man and drove me the 20 miles back to the station and asked for nothing in return. A Saint among men, truly. I thanked him profusely and went inside to catch the train.

When I finally reached home, I collapsed in my bed and fell into the deepest slumber. My body is still recovering from the perilous journey I put it through. What was supposed to be 3 1/2 hours and 8.7 miles, turned into 6 1/2 hours and 15 miles. It wasn't all in vain though. I did come home with some good memories and even more so.... a story to tell :)