Thursday 12 June 2014 – Deepest Cheshire – An Evening Walk Around Mobberley

Leaderless due to our resident guide to Deepest Cheshire having decided to put his feet up for the duration of the World Cup, a trio of lost souls lined up in the comfort of the Church Inn’s beer garden.

Refreshed from a couple of pints of ‘Mallory Ale’, aka Dunham Massey Brewery’s ‘Big Tree Bitter’, we decided to stumble off into the hinterland of Deepest Cheshire.

“Come back Andrew” was the cry as the ill prepared trio stumbled and scratched their way through the undergrowth. But all was not lost, we emerged at another watering hole with a lavish beer garden. Another couple of pints were sunk as we watched Mr and Mrs Rich down their lobsters.

Continuing blindly on through more mud, we came across this small pond on a corner, from which we were able to locate our position – something of a miracle given the absence of our guide and his failure to provide a route.

Warford Grange Farm does not welcome visitors. Everything is marked ‘Private’. Perhaps there are hidden secrets. However, some kind person had painted a line of green dots, which we followed to Mountpleasant Farm, where those helpful signs of guidance all merged into one in the field pictured below.

It didn’t help that the green dots had pointed directly westwards, exactly to where the sun was setting, and only one of us had sunglasses. Anyway, we splashed onwards, taking turns with the glasses and using the occasional tree (see header image) to protect our eyes from the glare. Any footpath was well hidden, but occasional yellow markers on stiles did give us some comfort.

We passed a nice looking tree.

Looking around, we all agreed that we must be in the right place. Somewhere in deepest Cheshire.

Walking backwards proved to be a good tactic – here I’m waiting for Graham (he’s generally fairly slow) whilst almost walking backwards into a ‘farmyard classic’ – you know the sort of car I mean, something like an E-type Jaguar used as a pig trough.

Pavement Lane saw us back on a less soft surface where Sue complained about the hard tarmac causing her feet to hurt. Some curious barn conversions next to typical farmyard detritus remain unsold. A ginnel about a metre wide led for some way through a newish housing estate and across the B5085 to a path beside a series of factories, before taking three sides of a square to reach Valewood Farm and re-enter Deepest Cheshire. Between here and curiously named ‘Dairy Farm’ (surrounded by fields of wheat), there were fine skyscapes if you didn’t mind the aircraft that seemed intent on a bird’s eye view of Deepest Cheshire.

Over to the west the sun, having dazzled us all the way to Valewood Farm, gloatingly dipped behind the horizon.

We were now heading east. “Gotcha” screamed the moon, as it jumped out from behind a tree and tried to blind us.

We were getting quite thirsty again, so we paused only briefly at St Wilfred’s Church where there’s an important window in memory of George Leigh Mallory who died on Mount Everest in 1924. The church has had a long connection with the Mallory family and contains numerous windows and memorial plaques to the family.

We noted from a random piece of gadgetry that we’d probably covered about 8.5 km and ascended around 75 metres. “That’s why Andrew didn’t come” we all realised at once –“It would have been too hilly for him”.

So, two hours after leaving the Church Inn’s beer garden, we were back there for another couple of pints of ‘Mallory Ale’, aka Dunham Massey Brewery’s ‘Big Tree Bitter’, listening to Mr and Mrs Richer discussing the finer qualities of the Menu.

What a pleasant evening – sorry you missed it Andrew (and anyone else) and we hope your broken leg is better soon.

The Changing Face of the Mersey Valley and the Cheshire Ring Canals

Today is one of those calm, sunny, t-shirt but not too hot, days that scuppers the best laid plans for staying at home and getting jobs done. Whilst it was tempting to drive somewhere, I opted for a 40 mile round trip from home, on Stumpy, more or less all off road, and leaving the afternoon to get ‘stuff’ done. Like this report for instance!

The canal/Trans Pennine Trail circuit from home is an easy (only 200 metres of ascent in 40 miles) four hour trip that, whilst being mainly in Greater Manchester, makes the most of the countryside that extends almost into the city centre.

There are always changes to observe. These days there is a ‘wheelchair’ ramp at Jackson’s Boat bridge.

The rough and muddy path beside the River Mersey between Chorlton and Didsbury seems almost to have been converted into a roadway.

But further on the nice old track survives.

I’m sure that in days past we used this section of previously disused railway in East Didsbury as a (muddy and overgrown) cycle route. Today it has been reclaimed by the tram line, but at least there is a good cycle path next to the line.

Some of the muddy tracks in Reddish Vale have been coated with green tarmac!

To the east of the M60 motorway, crossed by a high footbridge, old signage remains from the early days of the Trans Pennine Trail, which opened in 2001.

Beyond Haughton Green, the TPT heads further east and the Peak Forest Canal is joined by those with a desire to return to Timperley for lunch. In places the towpath has been renewed (Sustraned?). You can also see that I’ve now got a bike mount for the Garmin eTrex10, to which I’d downloaded the route. It worked very well, but can you spot the temporary glitch?

In other places the towpath was extremely muddy, and having binned my mudguards (they kept falling off) I returned home covered in mud. Dukinfield Lift Bridge remains in pristine condition.

There’s a canal basin at the junction of the Peak Forest and Ashton Canals, with fairly newly converted mill buildings and old cobbled bridges sitting cheek by jowl.

A left turn saw me zooming along the Ashton Canal towpath, muddy in places, and cobbled in the area of the many locks on the route into Manchester. The bike’s suspension finally came into use on the fast cobbled descents enjoyed at each lock.

Large families of Canada Geese and their young were seen at frequent intervals, as were quite a number of barges heading towards Manchester.

In a previous posting ‘Some Bike Rides from Timperley’, I published a photo that enjoyed a view across the whole (construction) site near the City of Manchester Stadium. Privacy for footballers in training seems to have taken precedence over the view, as huge banks have been constructed, and trees have been planted since I was last here.

I passed barges going into Manchester, and I met some coming through Manchester, but the canal seemed to be almost empty of water north of Piccadilly. Those coming in from Ashton may have been able to exit via the Rochdale Canal, but I’m not sure how those coming from the direction of the Bridgewater Canal could get through.

A pause in Castlefield saw me finishing the flask of tea and other provisions that I’d half eaten outside the Visitor Centre at Reddish Vale.

Not long ago, the bridge below hadn’t been painted and the trams were all blue (the new ones are yellow).

After a long standing canal diversion at Old Trafford, the towpath that is re-joined is narrow and muddy. There ought to be future changes here, as this is the perfect venue for a cycleway away from busy roads all the way into Manchester’s City Centre. Currently only a brave few use it to commute.

I was back home by noon, and after a quick hose down I was ready to move on to the next job.

Here’s a rough idea of the route – 62km with 200 metres ascent, taking 4 hours, including a couple of 15 minute breaks. Basically – follow the Trans Pennine Trail until you reach the Peak Forest Canal, then follow that around to where it crosses the Trans Pennine Trail in Stretford. And there are other options.

Sunday 8 June 2014 – A Stroll Around Foolow

Apologies for any typos in this entry – our swifts have just fledged and are carrying out very noisy practice flights right outside the study window. Not that I’m complaining, they are wonderful birds.

A select group of five assembled by the duck pond in Foolow at 10.15, as planned, but where was the organiser of this walk? Where could we go, what could we do, with no leader?

However, after much cursing about huge traffic jams on the M6, our talisman leader arrived from distant Bonsall with some passengers, and by 10.30 the day's team of eight was complete, and ready for the off. The Foolow ducks were left to laze the day away in the shade of a blossom laden tree.

We headed past Roods Farm towards Great Hucklow, gliders from Abney soaring above us as we sloshed through fields of buttercups. It had been raining earlier, so the grass was pretty wet.

Great Hucklow came and went and during a pause for navigational indecision I noticed some well travelled Russian Comfrey, prominent in the hedgerows.

After a period of uncertainty about the route around new buildings at Quarters Farm, we settled down for elevenses, at noon, by a disused tip near slurry, the fumes from which wafted across this otherwise pleasant spot. At least the shortbread tasted normal.

Bradwell was soon reached. Our leader confirmed that there are four excellent pubs here, apparently. Unfortunately due to more route indecision she failed to find any of them.

Soon we were ascending Bradwell Edge, with views back to the Dark Peak, from Mam Tor to Lose Hill, with Kinder behind, all beyond Bradwell.

Up near Robin Hood’s Cross, this dew pond seemed full of life.

Lunch was taken on the nice benches at SK 183 801.

Sue photographed some skyscapes from her bench.

Many fields were laden with buttercups, here looking towards the Edges around Hathersage.

A lot of effort had been put into placing numerous signs about the closure of a vital path, for which no alternative route is available, due to a 'defective footbridge'. Lots of paths meet at the busy junction where Abney Clough meets Bretton Clough - numbers 6, 7, 8, 10, 12 and 14 are all involved, though how many people would recognise these paths by their numbers? The notices were pinned to a path number 99 sign, but there was no reference to path number 99 in the notices.

Here's the 'defective bridge'. Scary!

If the effort needed to produce and place all the signs had been directed towards the actual bridge, it would have been replaced with no fuss.

Anyway, we made it safely to the Bretton Clough path, where a sharp left turn took us past the some sheep, following which Eyam, which from this direction seems to be almost surrounded by quarries, soon came into view.

At the site of Highcliffe Lead Mine, which dates from 1715, Sue went in search of ‘plant communities of international conservation importance’, including 'Derbyshire Leadwort', and found this - Spring Sandwort, perhaps?

Down in Eyam, we passed by Marshall Howe's house – he survived a dose of the plague, but sadly his wife and son both died from that in 1666.

The walk then concluded with a pleasant stroll through buttercup meadows to Foolow.

Q. Will the village hall be open for tea and cakes? A. Yes, and very good the cakes were as well.

Here’s our route – 18km with 500 metres ascent, taking five and a half hours. An excellent route – thanks go to Sue W for discovering it as we went along.

A fine little bimble, advertised as 9 miles, but turning out to be just over 11 miles, and there’s a slightly more extensive slideshow here.

Wednesday 4 June 2014 – Shady Woods around Whalley

Here's a fine assembly of 'Elite' Plodders from East Lancs LDWA's 'Middle Distance' Section, according to today’s leader, who was most impressed when about 40 people appeared to turn up for his walk. It soon transpired that most of them were on a totally unrelated outing involving a pub lunch – a luxury that even ‘Elite’ Plodders have yet to discover in the wilds of Lancashire.

“I’ve provided a weather forecast for you” announced Norman, looking skywards and pointing to a plaque that he’d just unloaded from his car.

The walk commenced under threatening skies and headed towards those skies, continuing uphill for most of the day, eventually reaching the cloud base. The lush grass was wet. Feet got wet.

The route negotiated frequent stiles, so those for whom Norman’s ‘take no prisoner’ pace was a bit too hot didn't need to worry as it takes a while for 15 people to negotiate such frequent obstacles.

After a seemingly endless ascent to a quarry and a communications mast, a good track led down to the ancient (1296) village of Sabden, past this magnificent piece of industrial archaeology that Norman claimed is in working order. (I’ve been here with him before, and he failed to get it to work – this time he didn’t try, he just pointed at it optimistically!)

Elevenses were taken at 11.35 "Norman Time" on the benches by Sabden's war memorial. Time for a cake and a chat: "This walk's fine, what a wonderful leader we have." "Yes, I agree, but don’t the brownies taste awful today" echoed from two separate conversations.

This village was once a hive of industry. The high-quality water in the valley attracted the calico printing industry and Sabden became one of the best renowned places for Calico fabric prints in the UK if not the world. The industry kept going until 1931. At one stage there were seven mills in the village, employing over 2,000 people. This meant many workers travelled to work daily from surrounding towns and villages on foot, many working a 12-hour shift or more. How times change!.

Then we went to church. "If I'd known you were coming I'd have made you a pot of tea" said the church warden... a missed opportunity perhaps.

St Nicholas Parish Church dates from 1846.

Norman pointed out the brickwork that is designed to shed water. Overall, the impression is that the building is wider higher up, but the individual layers of pointing slant outwards. It has recently been re-pointed as part of two years' of renovations.

Continuing relentlessly in an easterly direction, beyond Dry Corner, we crossed Sabden Brook at Dean, our far point from the start of the walk.

A heron was feeding beside the infant Brook.

There were cheers when Norman led us up to Padiham Heights, rather than up nearby Pendle Hill, the prospect of which several of the more ancient Plodders had been dreading.

After a futile search for some elusive picnic benches, we paused for lunch by Simon's Cross, then Norman set about trying to find out where he was.

“Perhaps we are near Simon’s Cross” offered Phil. “Are we really?” said Norman and John, who had been too busy eating brownies and listening to the music blaring from a nearby van to be able to concentrate on working out where they were.

“It’s a ‘Shady Wood Walk’” announced Norman, so we’ll go that way…

After a while the wood sort of petered out. "Where are we now?" This time Neil was called upon to assist.

It started to rain as we proceeded through deep wet grass towards the next section of jungle (sorry – “Shady Woods”). The picture below shows what those of us with cameras had to put up with today – flat dull light, just below the cloud base.

A tarmac lane then led through curlew territory and a long driveway took us to the exit from a stately home - Read Hall. We didn’t see much of the Hall, but our incredibly skilful leader, despite some opposition from those who misunderstand the ethics of ‘Middle Distance Walking’, led us inexorably to Read Garden Centre. This welcoming haven from the now heavy rain provided welcome shelter as well as tea and cake. Everyone except The Dissenters was very happy.

The rain eased after a while, so Barbara woke Norman from his slumbers (did she really spike his coffee?) and the motley crew reassembled for the dangerous stroll to Cock Bridge (widened in 1921) - the route to the Gamecock.

Having survived the busy road to the Garden Centre, we crossed the A680 towards the Gamecock. But instead of dropping in for a beer, our short sighted leader perhaps wisely stumbled on in the rain, beside the River Calder, towards Whalley.

A tributary crossing had some of our rather elderly patrons worried about slipping and drowning.

Beyond a zone of trees almost as ancient as the average Plodder, Whalley Banks ensured that the uphill theme of the walk was maintained to the end. We passed a posh house, Whalley Banks Farm, with an osprey outside and the river now far below us.

Backmarkers had to hasten to keep up. Norman takes no prisoners and was miles ahead by now, so had to be reminded that his acceptable ‘attrition rate’ is 10%, not 45% – the current proportion of his group that had ‘gone missing’.

We gradually re-grouped after Neil had wisely tethered Norman to a gate, whilst the rest of us caught up along some of the lovely ancient walled byways around Whalley.

"This looks tempting" announced Norman, as we reached his favourite crossing over the River Calder. "Silly man" quacked the mallard, as he set about walking the plank.

Anyway, we fished him out and dusted him down, so that even he was able to enjoy buying some ice creams for his rescuers back at Spring Wood Car Park. Thanks Norman.

Here's our route - 20 km (12.5 miles) with 500 metres ascent, taking nearly 6 hours including 1 hour of breaks. Click on the image to get a larger version – the start and finish is just under ‘PC’ below the ‘y’ of Whalley (I have new mapping software that I’ve not yet mastered).

 

Then some of us finally made it to the Gamecock Inn, where Norman kept repeating Julie’s parting comment - “The walk was 100% excellent and you get full marks.” He’s possibly still there…

There’s a slide show with more pictures here. Any discrepancy regarding the captions is purely accidental and should be regarded as ‘reflections on a splendid day out with the Plodders’.