It had been raining all day, but now it seemed to have eased off, so I took the opportunity for a walk. What with all the rain, I thought it was likely to be muddy, so to be on the safe side I wore my Dunlop wellies, with jeans and my favourite green hoodie.

With all the trees still wet, it wasn't long before the hoodie and jeans were splashed with drips, and the path I was on was really slippery underfoot, I almost lost my footing a couple of times. After a while the path went up and over a ridge. I'd nearly got to the top when the inevitable happened, my wellies lost traction on the slippery clay and I fell forward into the mud, sliding back down the slope.

I got to my feet and examined the damage. Mud all down the left side of my jeans, and the left side of my hoodie was more brown than green now. I scrambled up the ridge again, picked my way down the other side, and went on. Oddly, I felt almost cocky, sort of "Yes, I fell in the mud. Deal with it." I even said hello to a couple walking their dog a bit further along.

After I'd walked a bit further, the path went into a patch of woodland and I realised how dark it was under the trees. Up to now I'd been able to see where I was going, but in the wood I wasn't at all sure where I was. A bit further and I realised I'd wandered off the path, I was pushing my way through waist-high soaking wet nettles.

Then I came through the nettles into a sort of clearing where the ground was pretty bare. I kept going in what I hoped was the right direction. There was what looked like a small puddle just ahead, I took a step to the left to avoid it-

And my left leg went straight down into cold, oozing mud, all the way up to the top of my thigh without stopping. To try and get myself out I put my right boot on what I hoped was more solid ground. It wasn't. My other leg went down just as fast, and in no time I was crotch-deep in thick, gooey mud. It was gurgling into my wellies, soaking through my jeans too.

I squirmed in the muck, leaning forward and backward, trying to drag myself free - and smearing mud all over my hoodie in the process. The ground in front of me seemed to be firmer, and eventually I was able to crawl forward out of the mud pit. The worst bit was trying to drag my mud-filled wellies out of the ooze, it really didn't want to let go of them.

I certainly didn't feel so cocky now as I clambered to my feet. I took a few steps forward, my wellies slurping with every step. I just had time to notice the way the ground was wobbling around my feet, when I went straight down again. This time the mud seemed to be even softer and deeper, I sank past my waist and couldn't feel anything solid under my boots. I grabbed at a branch and managed to drag myself forward again. Again I had to struggle to get out, but this time I actually made it onto something more like solid ground.

I could see what looked like daylight through the trees, and headed for it. Soon I came out into a field and got a proper look at the state I was in. Nothing I was wearing had escaped the mud. My shirt and hoodie had received generous helpings, and my jeans weren't blue any more, every inch of them was saturated with grey-black mud. They were full of mud on the inside too, I could feel that even my briefs were soaked with the stuff.

I set out across the field, hoping I didn't meet the dog walkers from before. I didn't, but I had even less idea where I was. It took me several tries to find what looked like the right way, and of course all the time it was getting darker. Several times I found myself pushing through soaking vegetation or splashing through puddles, but of course I was already so wet and filthy it didn't really matter.

I was nearly back at the car park, when I turned a bit too soon, and found myself heading down a steep, slippery slope. I was almost at the bottom when my welly suddenly shot forward, I lost my balance and-

SPLOOSH. The next thing I knew I was sprawling on my arse in several inches of cold. muddy water. I'd already been pretty wet after my involuntary mud baths in the bog, but now my clothes were completely waterlogged.

I didn't bother trying to get back up the slope to the footpath. I just waded through the stream, or pond, or swamp, or whatever it was, scrambled up the far side, and squelched my way back to the car park. Certainly not the evening walk I'd been expecting... but quite fun all the same.