[Red] Sherwood Forest

Because I live outside Nottingham, I feel obliged to visit the areas contained within the tales of Robin Hood. This is a mistake. Most of them are crap.

Recently, I decided to visit Sherwood Forest. I know that someone from the interior of BC visiting an English forest is akin to someone from the North East of Australia SCUBA diving in a pool, but even I was surprised. I mostly went to go for a bike ride. I figured I’d catch the train to Mansfield, then cycle to the Great Oak, Then ride back home. It would be a 55km trip, and a nice way to spend a big chunk of the day.

From Mansfield, I came across a splendid example of the British hatred of useful signage. I google mapped a route, so knew the names and numbers of all the roads I wanted to take, but in the absence of any posted sign names, I was working off best guesses.

I knew that I had to go through Edwinstowe, and there I caught some luck. Through a torturous path down some side streets, I found the Sherwood Forest Visitors Centre. No information anywhere, but I took a gamble that the worn footpath would lead to the Great Oak – the infamous meeting place of Robin Hood and his merry men (or so the story goes).

It happened to be a bank holiday Monday, and there were a million kids. Cycling on this path would be difficult, but the ubiquitous “No Cycling on the Paths” signs made it irrelevant. I dismounted and pushed my bike.

Until recently, this would not have been an issue. However, I now own shoes that clip into the special pedals, so I sound like a horse whenever I walk. Definitely not the shoes you want to wear for a stroll through the forest.

Except that it isn’t a forest. This is a cultivated, sterilized group of trees. There are fences keeping you on the path, and gardeners driving their carts along the path. I guess ‘path’ is the wrong word. I’ve seen two-way streets that are narrower than this.

After a short jaunt, I made it to the Great Oak – or so I thought. The signs estimate the age of this tree to be 1150 years old. The same signs also indicate that there are records some outlaws by the name of Robyn Hode hiding in these forests 900 years ago. Therefore, this tree is not The Great Oak. This is The Major Oak – named for a Mr. Major.

To be fair, The Major Oak is a big tree. Not overly tall, but with a huge trunk and thick limbs. The limbs were so large that they had to be externally supported to prevent them falling off in a stiff wind. As additional safety measures (for both you and the tree) there was a fence that prevented the public from getting near the tree.

I fought hordes of kids, pushed my bike a km or two in stupid shoes, walked through a sterilized wooded area, to go see a big tree on life support located somewhere near where a famous tree used to live. Thankfully they didn’t charge admission.

At least the ride back was pleasant.