Wild Capital – number 1, Epping Forest.
Loughton Camp
Louis Clark reports on a suburban foray into the ancient forest of Epping Forest. Londoner Louis has to search far and wide those wild spaces that make an urban runner’s life a bit more bearable, but finds a little bit of off-road heaven east of London…
Epping Forest is the largest public open space in the London area, at almost 6,000 acres. It stretches 12 miles from Manor Park in East London to just north of Epping in Essex. Being based in Hackney, which although pretty central, is on the East side of London, this was a logical place for me to start my fact-finding mission into the best places to run off road in London.
Now being situated so close to London (various Underground stations are within 5 minutes walk of its borders) I had a feeling that Epping Forest would get pretty busy at the weekend – even in November – so I made an early start. Catching the first tube from Liverpool Street, I arrived at Loughton Station at just after 6am. This gave me a good hour of pre-dawn darkness to run in before the sun came up. Setting off from the station I entered the forest via Nursery Road and was quickly enveloped by dense woodland.
Epping Station
Though Epping Forest is hardly a large open space (by the definition of most MST readers at least) the fact that it is so dense does give you some sense of being alone. Working my way north-west using a thin path, probably made by the tyres of the many mountain bikers that use the area for training, I quickly left the sound of traffic behind.
Within minutes of getting started I came across a solitary Muntjac deer, which bounded away through the ferns, its white tail bobbing comically. The forest has a pretty abundant population of deer, with the introduced Muntjac’s thriving alongside the Fallow and Roe and I came across all three types as the morning went on.
Chingford Plain
I followed the path for a couple of miles. The ground in Epping Forest is generally covered in decades of leaf mould, and extremely soft underfoot. Exposed roots and fallen logs meant I needed my wits about me to avoid falling head over heels while frequent small streams and brooks cut deep gullies, the banks of which required some undignified sliding to navigate. Areas of boggy ground and waterlogged craters meant going was certainly tough enough for a city-boy like me.
Suddenly I came out of the trees right alongside a busy A-road that cuts the forest down its length, north to south. Even at this time of the morning the road was busy and I had to wait for almost a minute to cross. I thought back to the deer I had seen. No need for population control here, this road would take care of that.
Garnon Bushes
Negotiating the road safely, I crossed an open, grassy space on the other side. A group of sturdy looking Highland Cattle grazed quietly on the tree line, barely looking up as I passed. Never mind the deer on the road, they really would stop the traffic.
Turning north once again, I made my way up a steep hill perhaps a mile long to the highest point of the Forest, aptly named High Beech. While not possessing anything of the scale found further north, or indeed in places like Box Hill to the South of London in terms of hills, Epping Forest is extremely lumpy and I didn’t travel more than a couple of hundred metres without going up or down a steep incline.
Cresting the top of High Beech I came across a small green hut selling tea, coffee and cakes. A group of road cyclists sat outside, cradling steaming cups and slices of bread pudding. A black cab stood idling, its driver chatting to the owner of the hut – a reminder of just how close to London I still was.
Without being able to justify a cake stop just yet I carried on northwards, running along a bridleway that tracked the ridge of the hill. The forest has numerous stables and is criss-crossed with bridleways just like the one I was on though there were no sign of horses at this time of the morning. After a few hundred metres I grew bored of the sandy red pathway and took a single-track path that snaked off into the undergrowth.
The Furze Ground
Before long I arrived at another clearing. Looking west, the whole of North London and its adjoining counties, spread out before me, bathed in the early morning sunshine. Surprised at the height I’d managed to gain, I stopped for a minute to take in the view before heading west, straight down the side of the hill, hurdling as many logs and branches as I could see.
Over the next hour or so I criss-crossed the forest a number of times, moving between single track paths, bridleways and finding my own way through leaf mould, brambles, holly and huge infestations of ferns. Though the forest only measures a few miles across at its thinnest point you could easily lose yourself for hours simply by running round in circles, never taking the same path twice.
While Epping Forest might not possess the kind of gains in height, or indeed outright wilderness most off-roaders crave, by the time I arrived back at Loughton Station I had covered around 15 miles of muddy, hilly and reasonably demanding terrain with the cyclists and cab driver at the green hut the only humans I’d seen.
With a pretty packed schedule of races in 2010 and a pressing need to get some real off-road training under my belt, I would definitely be back before long – though I don’t envy the other occupants of the train carriage on my way back into town. Seems some of that mud I ran through might have had its origins within a horse or two…
Think you know somewhere better than Epping Forest to run off road in London? Why not send me there. Post your recommendation and I’ll head on over and give it a try.
