Despite wet weather it was a jolly bunch of 17 walkers that set out soon after 10am from Dunham Massey under Peter’s brisk leadership.
He assured us that the Dunham Ripper would indeed be found.
The group turned out to be dominated by early retirees who get very regular exercise – the pace was certainly more than reasonable (if reputedly much slower than on their longer weekend walks).
The forecast of worsening weather proved inaccurate; it was one of those days when overtrousers donned at the start stayed on, but those left in bags stayed in, if you can follow that. (The weather actually improved significantly during the course of the day.)
We zoomed off past a herd of fallow deer before crossing an area of lush green grass and randomly placed sand dunes where we were sternly paused by some gaudily dressed gents chasing a small white object.

Bombing on at a rapid pace we left the canal at the bridge at Oughtrington and headed through woods then suburban streets to reach the centre of Lymm, where one of the group demanded to be placed in custody as he was feeling a bit tired.After marking down the leader for going too fast, the throng proceeded to lunch at 12.15 (a bit early?!) by the well fed Mallard population of Lymm Dam. 20 minutes was all we got, before rushing off down ‘The Bongs’, by the waters of Lymm Dam where a cormorant was enjoying a thorough wash, in a southerly direction, to be halted only by the thick blue line of the M56 motorway.
Luckily Peter had reccied the route and managed to avoid the ankle deep slurry in which the track past Broad Heyes Farm immerses unwary victims.
Having lost more points due to the bogginess of his route (rather unfair, I thought, as the slurry had been cleverly by-passed), Peter then imposed a ‘single file’ restriction at frequent intervals during the walk across fields which returned us to a selection of canalside hostelries, all of which were ignored.
His ‘leader’s score rating’ had now been reduced to nil, so he tried to bribe the throng into recognising that he had some skills by producing a large packet of liquorice allsorts and sundry other goodies. Very nice, but, he was told, only a pot of tea for 17 on his tab at the end of the walk would remedy the position. He responded by threatening to use his ‘delete’ button on any troublemakers, in his role of Membership Secretary of the LDWA.We continued, in sunny weather, striding on past flapping lapwings to complete the circuit.
And where was the Dunham Ripper?At least Peter found that, just around the corner from where the walk had started 5 hours earlier; he had the last laugh as it seemed that he had taken us by rather a roundabout route.
Here it is, a frame saw that has been ripping into tree trunks and converting them to planks since around 1860. It’s powered by a waterwheel below, through a series of belts and shafts, and is still in fine working order.
And so we adjourned to the same excellent tea shop that Sue and I enjoyed following our return from New Zealand nearly 2 weeks ago, for more of the same, before admiring the National Trust property and returning homewards.
The route is shown below. It’s 23 km with only 177 metres of ascent, and took us a brisk 5 hours, including stops.
An excellent day out. Thank you John for letting me know about it.




It was Bank Holiday Monday, a day when not everyone you see ‘on the hill’ is familiar with the terrain.
Soon after turning right at a minor road, our route carried straight on where the road bore left. We headed on up to Oakenclough, then left over the top to emerge with long views west over the conurbation of Greater Manchester, with Winter Hill’s tall mast prominent in the distance.


Put the leg into a big casserole dish with the other ingredients and cook for 5 hours to arrive at this…









I saw no canal boats; maybe the locks are closed – there was certainly a problem at number 2 lock, where a large tree (sadly sprouting a fine set of buds) had been blown into the water near the entrance to the lock.
Across the viaduct the towpath heads towards
Passing under both bridges and up a grassy, sometimes boggy, path through three fields I emerged at a lane. Yesterday here, I met three finely attired gents who could have been auditioning for ‘Last of the Summer Wine’. Today I saw nobody on these paths. There’s a fine view of the railway viaduct.
Leaving some Carrion Crows to rummage in the horse manure, I turned right down a lane with fine views of the hillsides around Marple (yesterday they were fine – today it was a case of
So I returned, past a field of newly born lambs, 




Here there was a gathering of vaguely familiar faces, most of whom we had never met before. They were all ‘UK Outdoors Bloggers’, and this was an informal annual gathering. Great to meet you, folks.
[Some poetic licence here, as I now see that John is one of the recumbent forms!]
But the litter by the canal was quite distressing. We are back in a highly populated area where not everyone cares.
However, it was a nice day and the
Just as the day had been long, the night was long too. Almost the whole of the next leg (about 13 1/2 hours) was in darkness. Back in Manchester, it was just 3 degrees and unpacking awaited....
The sand was very soft, so we sank in over an inch with every step as we progressed along the beach as close as possible to the incoming tide with competing currents. The sun emerged strongly as we left the beach by some caves where it became impassable due to a rocky headland, up which a rocky path led us to the airy summit.
It was good to rejoin the beach, firmer now the tide was receding, below Lion Rock, a 100 metre high 'island' that used to be climbable but is no longer so, due to unstable rocks.
Swimming for those who chose to, more Marlborough