Running from cows on the Helford

Okay, so let’s begin with a confession.
I do not run the entire length of the Helford and probably never will.

For one, it’s a long way with a distinct lack of coffee stops and more importantly, you can’t. At least not without crossing private beaches and setting off trip wires in Roger Taylor’s back garden.

But I do like to run the 10K or so from Maenporth to the Ferryboat Inn. It’s a spectacular stretch of coast path and its hard to imagine a spot that’s as unspoilt and yet so full of life and character as this short section of the Helford.

The beaches alone need a week to explore; Bream Cove, Gatamala Cove, Prisk Cove, Rosemullion Beach, Parson’s Beach, Porthallack Beach, Porth Saxon, Grebe Beach, Durgan Beach, Robins’ Cove, Polgwidden Cove and Helford Passage.

All are beautiful, some are only accessible at low tide but only one has a pub.

And that’s where I’m aiming.

I start with a very steep climb straight off Maenporth Beach, picking up the coast path as I become surrounded by high hedge rows. The path is narrow and twisty, and covered in tree roots as it climbs and falls in a rhythmic pattern all the way to the headland.

Running on the trails is a more relaxed way to run. I’m not looking at my garmin, there’s nothing or no one to think about and there are the views.

Constant. Unbridled. Beautiful views.

From Bream Cove you look towards Falmouth and Pendennis Castle, from Rosemullion Head you can see across the mouth of the river to the Manacles (the infamously treacherous rocks off the Lizard peninsula and famous site of many a shipwreck), and once you turn to follow the river, you’re never far from the water’s edge or a glimpse at the boats moored on the river.

I run through Mawnan Glebe, a beautiful wooded section of the coast path with a pine-needle carpet. It’s a stone’s throw from Mawnan’s 13th century church. Minutes later, I pass a WWII pill box on my left, a sign that I’m about to step foot on the pebbly beach of Porth Saxon, before crossing the beach and climbing back up the trail.

While I cross the back of Durgan beach and rise up again on the trail, this time away from the water, I’m confronted with my running nemesis.

Cows.

Now I’ve got nothing against cows, in fact my kids and I quite often enjoy spotting them as we drive about the countryside from the safety of the car. But I do take issue when we get up close and personnel; there being only one of me and fifty of them as we all start to run in the same direction.

And it’s usually at this point that I hit the particularly cow patty area of the field.

The result sees John Cleese’s ministry of funny walks meet with Usain Bolt as I desperately try to avoid being flattened while keeping my trainers shit free.

I survive and as I recover, I glance at the far banks of the Helford. The sun is rising in the sky and there’s movement on the water as people start to search for coffee pots aboard their boats. A black line in the rock shows where high water reaches as I press on, passing Trebah gardens and on to the Ferryboat.

I pass the pub and run to the end of the narrow stretch of tarmac. It leads to a private beach where the Helford Gig Club launch their boats. I sit and watch them make ready. They’ve got the perfect morning for it.