The British climate can be described in two words –
temperate maritime – the weather, though, is an entirely different matter. After
the extraordinary cold of the
Nth Chip Walk , and
last year’s milder experience, this year’s Chip Walk was dominated by rain. And it was not just
the day of the walk, the whole of the preceding week had seen
persistent heavy rain.
Whenever I hear reports of flooding I comfort myself with
the smug thought that I live on the top of a hill. This year I have been forced
into a rethink; living on a hill, I have learnt, is a small step from living on
an island. I have had to choose my routes from Swynnerton based on which roads
are still above water.
To reach Cannock Chase, I detoured through Eccleshall, where
the River Sow was still flowing under the bridge – if only just. In Stafford I
crossed the little River Penk which had spread right across its flood plain,
incorporated the Staffordshire & Worcestershire Canal, and was doing its
best to imitate the Nile (if the
Trent can look like the Dordogne…..)
Staffordshire’s soil is largely clay – hence the pottery
industry – but Cannock Chase is a pile of sandstone pebbles 100m high, so if
anywhere is suitable for a walk on such a day at the end of such a week this is
it.
The popularity of a wet day’s walking on the Chase can be seen
from the photograph, but I eventually found a space in the Punch Bowl car park.
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Here's my car squeezed into the last free space in the Punch Bowl car park |
Lee and Francis arrived shortly afterwards. The Chip Walk was
down to three people, which was how it started fifteen or more years ago. As we
struggled into waterproof jackets and over-trousers we mused on the weakness of
the others, though to be fair the shortage of walkers was more due to family
commitments than fear of the weather, and I was the one who had been on the
phone an hour before to see if anybody else wanted to cancel. ‘It’ll be the
only exercise any of us will get over Christmas,’ Francis had said, and I found
that a powerful argument.
We set off up the slope and turned left round Hart’s Hill to
join the Sherbrook. Looking on the bright side, as one is apt to do after
voluntarily setting off for a walk during a downpour, there was little wind so
the rain was falling vertically rather than being blown into our faces.
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Around Hart's Hill |
We reached the stepping stones which were, I was surprised
to see, still not submerged. I took the customary picture. It is not that I
actually want anybody to slip and topple into the icy water, but if they did
and I was standing there with camera raised, well….. Half way across Francis
stopped. Lee did not walk into his back, though for a moment I thought he might.
Francis turned round. ‘We’re not crossing the stepping stones, I only came here
for the picture.’
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Just for the picture |
We continued up the Sherbrook Valley. What would normally
have been a gentle uphill plod became an upstream walk as the Sherbrook
(version 2.0) was flowing down the stony path.
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The Sher Brook (version 2.0) |
After 3½ Km we turned right to splash up
the path that climbs out of the valley up to the Katyn Memorial.
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Splashing up towards the Katyn Memorila |
In places the
water on this path was even deeper and flowed even faster.
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Looking back 'downstream' into the Sherbrook Valley |
According to the map there is no pond at the top of the hill, but I lacked the
heart to explain it to the happily paddling mallard.
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There is no pond here |
We passed the memorial (for more information see
Chip Walk(N + 1).)
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The Katyn memorial, Cannock Chase |
On the far side of the nearby road is the Springslade Lodge Café and
after walking for an hour and a half it seemed reasonable to spend a short time
under cover. We removed our outer clothing, sat in the warm, dry café drinking
coffee and watching the rain splash down outside.
I was comfortable where we were, but lunch, and the fish and
chips which lie at the heart of any Chip Walk, was an hour away, so we had to
brace ourselves, replace our still damp outer garments and venture into the
rain.
Lunch since Chip Walk 1 (nobody is quite sure when that was
but I am confident that 10 < N < 20) has been at the Swan with Two Necks
in Longdon. It once had pretentions to be a gastropub and produced exceptional fish
and chips but has changed hands several times over the years and the food has
usually been satisfactory rather than outstanding. This year, like so many other
country pubs, the Swan with Two Necks closed. Consequently we were heading for
the Chetwynd Arms near Brocton, a thriving pub beside a main road.
We headed out over Anson’s Bank......
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Over Anson's Bank |
.....and past Chase Road Corner,
another popular car parking spot with hardly a vehicle in it, and turned left
to descend the Oldacre Valley.
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Into the Oldacre Valley |
There is more top soil here, so it was
distinctly squelchy underfoot as we splashed down towards Brocton Pool. ‘This
has been a dry valley since the ice age,’ Francis remarked. I presume this was
some technical geography teacher’s use of the word ‘dry’, it certainly had
bugger all to do with the valley I was standing in.
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The Oldacre Valley has been a dry valley since the ice age! |
I am not sure what route we took round Brocton Pool, I never
saw it, but we emerged on the minor road that leads to the A34 and the Chetwynd
Arms.
This Chetwynd Arms is not to be confused with the Chetwynd
Arms in Upper Longdon (which features in
Cannock Chase: not for the first time)
– and Upper Longdon should not be confused with Longdon, home of the defunct
Swan with Two Necks!
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The Chetwynd Arms, near Brocton |
The fish and chips were satisfactory, if hardly memorable,
but were pleasingly inexpensive (though ‘two meals for the price of one’ is not
best exploited by three people eating together). The staff were friendly and
efficient and it is clearly a well run business, even if it lacks the personal
touch of an old fashioned village pub.
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So its a Chip Walk.
Fish and Chips are compulsory (yes, Sue, that means you) |
Leaving the pub we found that the rain had eased. We crossed
the A34 and followed a narrow path round the back of some houses that leads, by
way of a horse paddock and a playground, to the centre of Brocton village. We
would rather have lunched in the pub on Brocton village green, but there
isn’t one; the clichés of the English countryside sometimes let you down.
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Brocton Village Green - a space crying out for a pub |
We returned to the Chase, climbing up the Mere Valley...
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Up the Mere Valley |
....to the
tautologously named Mere Pool.
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Lee passes the Mere Pool |
From there it was a simple path round Hart’s
Hill back to the Punch Bowl and the end of a short but relatively dry afternoon.
Overall it may have been the shortest Chip Walk ever, but, despite the deeply unpleasant
conditions we got out there and we did it, and I am glad we did. Tradition has been maintained.
The Annual Fish and Chip Walks
The Nth: Cannock Chase in Snow and Ice (Dec 2010)
The (N + 1)th: Cannock Chase a Little Warmer (Dec 2011)
The (N + 2)th: Cannock Chase in Torrential Rain (Dec 2012)
The (N + 3)th: Cannock Chase in Winter Sunshine (Jan 2014)
The (N + 4)th: Cannock Chase Through Fresh Eyes (Dec 2014)
The (N + 5)th: Cannock Case, Dismal, Dismal, Dismal (Dec 2015)
The (N + 6)th: Cannock Chase Mild and Dry - So Much Better (Dec 2016)
The (N + 7)th: Cannock Chase, Venturing Further East (Jan 2018)
The (N + 8)th: Cannock Chase, Wind and Rain (Dec 2018)
The (N + 9)th: Cannock Chase, Freda's Grave at Last (Dec 2019)
The (N + 10)th: Cannock Chase in the Time of Covid (Dec 2020)
The (N + 11)th: Cannock Chase, Tussocks(Dec 2021)
Dec 2020 - no walk
The (N + 12)th: Cannock Chase, Shifting Tectonic Plates (Dec 2023)
I'm glad we did it too - and as you said, it wasn't that bad after all!
ReplyDeleteBy the way, the Oldacre Valley probably carried annual spring meltwater during most of the Ice Age but once the climate warmed the water found it could sink through and left the surface valley dry - until this winter at least.