Slitting Mill: A Circular Walk, The 1st FGC Memorial F&C Walk

The Start of a New Era

Staffordshire

This walk, like all real Fish and Chip walks, took place on Cannock Chase, at 68 km² (26 sq miles) one of the smallest of England’s 33 designated Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty. Once a Royal Forest, it is now managed by Forestry England

It may be small, but it is perfectly formed and, most importantly, it is on our doorstep.

AONBs in England, Cannock Chase ringed
work of DankJae © Natural England copyright 2021. Contains Ordnance Survey data © Crown copyright and database right 2021. Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0.

The Gathering

On one of the mildest days of a distinctly cool winter, 5 participants gathered on the Car Park of The Horns Inn at Slitting Mill. Alison C, who had nobly the made the journey from Cheltenham, Lee and Sue, Mike and Alison T, and some worried looking bloke with only half his face in the picture.

Left to right, Sue, Alison C, Lee, Mike, Alison T and me, struggling withy the camera

Anne had cried off on the morning. She is a new grandparent and had been called upon for urgent grandparenting duties, so not only did we miss her company, we missed her skills at taking mass-selfies. I have little experience, short arms and arthritic fingers - and that’s my excuse.

The date of the very first Fish and Chip Walk – originally three teachers talking a country walk to celebrate the end of the Christmas Term – is known only to the celestial scorer, if there is one (and if there is, it is Bill Frindall, as every cricket fan of sufficient maturity knows).

The proto-chip walks were not always on Cannock Chase, and did not necessarily involve fish and chips but over time they settled into that pattern and that name. Brian and I were two of the three originals, the other, the actual progenitor of the Chip Walks (and the 11-year South West Odyssey and much more) was Francis, about whom, more later.

Getting Started

Our walk started and finished at Slitting Mill. A ‘slitting mill’ slits iron bars into rods as part of the nail making process. The first such mill was built here in 1611 and was followed by several others. The mills are long gone, but the village has appropriated the name. Slitting Mill today has 250 inhabitants and looks a pleasant place to live.

The mills were powered by water and the source, Horns Pool, is just behind the pub. It is now used by Staffordshire Match Fishing Club who charge other humans to fish the pool…

Horns Pool

…but kingfishers use it for free. ‘Look, there’s a kingfisher,’ said Alison C standing, behind me as I took the photo. By the time I was able to follow her pointing finger, it had, of course gone. I have still never seen a Common Kingfisher, though I have spotted and photographed white-throated and pied kingfishers in more exotic locations.

We followed the mill stream as it flows beside and a little above a field – which always looks slightly odd. We passed a row of houses, the last always has somebody on guard and at this time it is, inevitably, Father Christmas.

Father Christmas on guard duty.

On to the Chase

Here we turned our back on the open fields typical of most Staffordshire countryside…

Staffordshire farmland

….and made our way onto Cannock Chase.

Lee, Mike, Alison C On Cannock Chase

Mike had organised the route, and supplied us all with a nice map. The OS map from which it is derived shows the footpaths and the forestry tracks, but not the more recently created cycle tracks which cater for the large mountain biking community. We inadvertently found ourselves on one such track and a passing cyclist stopped to point out our error. He was polite and reasonable and at the next opportunity we found a new path a little to the north which headed in the right direction. There is never a shortage of paths on Cannock Chase, the problem was always knowing which one you are on. GPS has simplified such matter and we easily found our way down too at the visitor centre on Marquis Drive.

Slitting Mill is at the northeasterly corner of the route in red

The Brindley Valley

The Tackeroo

From the visitor centre we found our way into the Brindley Valley.

The Alisons inspect a pool in the Brindley Valley

Cannock Chase was a busy place during World War One with two large army camps, one of which later became a prisoner of war camp. To move in all the necessary equipment and keep the camp supplied a narrow-gauge railway was built. The Tackeroo, as it was called (nobody knows why) branched from the West Coast Main Line at Milford, just north of the Chase, made its entry through a cutting (now known as The Cutting), ran through Brocton Camp on the high ground west of the Sherbrook Valley across Penkridge Bank and through Rugeley Camp and the Brindley Valley, eventually reaching Hednesford where it joined the Rugeley-Walsall line.

Several of these walks have started through The Cutting on to the Chase, but this was the first along the Brindley Valley and the southern part of the Tackeroo. Our path ran close to the old rail line though it is no longer visible to the casual observer.

Through the Brindley Valley - the line of the Tackeroo was somewhere to our right.

Brindley Village

After the war the camps were dismantled and the rail tracks removed, though finding chunks of concrete among the trees that can only be explained as war-time remnants as not uncommon.

The hospital on Brindley Heath remained in use until 1924 and was then purchased by the West Cannock Colliery Company to house miners working at the West Cannock No. 5 pit near Hednesford. A community known as Brindley Village grew around it and a school was built. In 1953 the residents were relocated to council housing more conveniently situated in Hednesford. The village was demolished leaving only the occasional foundation and the odd fencepost.

Towards Fairoak Lodge

Before Penkridge Bank Road we turned right across Tackeroo Camp, a modern campsite, deserted in January, and towards more wooded country.

Across the Tackeroo Camp

Some way beyond Marquis Drive we encountered a metal barrier across our path, bearing a line-drawing of a man in a hard hat holding up his hand and saying ‘stop’ and the phrase “Forestry Work, Danger of Death.” These are not uncommon on the Chase, and the ‘danger of death’ is a little overstated. The hazards presented by large vehicles manoeuvring on rough ground, falling trees and men with chain saws are real enough, but they usually work only in a small area of the ground cordoned off. Even so we were reluctant to climb over such a barrier. A short distance away, however, another barrier had been moved aside, whether by forestry workers or an anarchist walker we did not know, but it gave access to path going in the right direction.

We found ourselves on another well-made cycle path, but this time cyclist-free.

Along the cycle path

In places it was steep and the mud was slippery. In theory, I think, Lee was helping Alison T down a slippery section, but a minute or so earlier it was Lee who had had found his footing sliding swiftly downhill followed by an unintentional, though relatively decorous, descent into the mud.

Mutual assistance on a perilous descent, Lee and Alison T

Eventually we sighted the forestry work a couple of hundred metres ahead. Turning left up the side of the valley, we found the next path up which took us away from any danger and delivered us to the access road to Fairoak Lodge.

Back to The Horns

From Fairoak Lodge we decided not to follow the planned route which dropped down to the pools, but keep instead to the higher ground which took us to Birches Valley visitor centre.

On the High Ground approaching Birches Valley

We walked through the visitor centre and Lady Hill Coppice beyond, emerging onto the minor road just outside Slitting Mill. The Horns, where Lynne would join us for the traditional fish and chip lunch was only a short step away.

The Horns, Slitting Mill

We had booked a late lunch, and as the light fades early in late December there was no afternoon walk. The route had been shorter than the traditional walk. Although Lee and Sue are still in (or at least not unadjacent to) their prime and could walk much further, some us (well me) are beginning to feel their age and find 11km quite long enough. Thanks to all for your patience, thanks to Mike for the route planning and to Alison C for making the effort to come so far to be part of it.

I mentioned Francis, the originator of these walks at the start. Last year he joined us for lunch and in the spring moved into sheltered accommodation in Oxfordshire nearer to his daughter. He died suddenly of a heart attack in June. For more, see updates to Dr Francis Gibbs Crane MBE.

Francis lunching at the Ship Inn, Danebridge many years ago

I first blogged about these walks in 2010, and that walk was indisputably the Nth of the series. Last year’s was the (N + 12)th and I feel it is time for new, and more definitive numbering. So, without consulting anybody, and solely for the purpose of this blog, I have named this the First Francis Crane Memorial Fish and Chip Walk. Blog titles are best kept short so, as you can see at the top, abbreviations have been necessary.

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)
The 1st FGC Memorial Walk: Cannock Chase. Slitting Mill, a Circular Walk (Dec 2024)

Cannock Chase: Shifting Tectonic Plates. The (N + 12)th Annual Fish and Chip Walk

Unwelcome Developments and an Extremely Damp Walk on Cannock Chase

Staffordshire

Nothing in the title should be taken to suggest that the island of Great Britain in general, or Cannock Chase in particular, has abandoned its customary geological stability, this is not Iceland. But there are things in life we treat as permanent, though we know they are not. When change comes, the consequences are not entirely unearthquakelike. (That tortured sentence reminds me of a sign I saw in a North Macedonian hotel: ‘Do not use the lift in case of earthquakeake or fire.’)

Rifle Range Corner to the Sherbrook Valley

We set off a little later than our 9.30 target from Rifle Range Corner. The Corner, a sharp turn on minor road from the A34 to Rugeley, has often featured in these walks, but we have never started here before – a ripple from the edge of a shifting plate.

We walked towards the remains of the WW1 army rifle range, which gave the corner its name, then turned left and right.

Alison (half hidden) and Anne at the front (and they need to turn left, now), Brian and Lee, Mike, I am just behind with the camera

Unlike every other Fish and Chip Walk – on this blog since 2010, but older than that – Francis was not out in front. Indeed, Francis was not there at all.

I read through the (N + 11)th walk in 2021 before starting this. There were clues in the report, though I missed them at the time. Francis was a meticulous planner. The South West Odyssey, a 12-year walk in 36 sections from the Cardingmill Valley in Shropshire to Start Bay in Devon was his idea, he chose the routes, booked the B&Bs and led the way metaphorically and very often literally. He was the navigator who (almost) never made a mistake. But (N + 11) was not like that, he appeared to have no plan, his confident decision making had gone, the route became a ramble and we finished too early for lunch.

(N + 12) had started in the dry, but it would rain on and off for the whole day…

Anne's rictus grin says that she WILL enjoy this, Alison T looks like she wishes she was somewhere else

….and found our way to a path named as Marquis Drive on the map, though it is separated from the better-known section we would meet later.

Brian and Lee on a section of Marquis drive

By June 2022, the signs I missed had become obvious symptoms. The man who thought 20km a day was lazy, ground to a halt after 2 with a loss of balance and muscular co-ordination. Francis said he had ‘recently gone downhill very quickly’ but was putting a lot of faith into a series of physiotherapist appointments. It was obvious, though, that physiotherapy was not the answer, I could see clear similarities between Francis and the problems of Lynne’s late father.

Our path took us to the eastern edge of the Sherbrook Valley.

Looking down into the Sherbrook Valley

It then starts to descend gently, along the ridge…

Along the edge of the Sherbrook Valley

…but takes its time about it, eventually reached the brook a little upstream of the stepping stones. Lee was responsible for working out the route, and had built in optional short cuts to ensure we arrived for lunch on time. We took a zig-zag down the valley side..

This could be a zig..... or maybe a zag

… and crossed the stream at the bottom.

Across the Sherbrook. Anne is still smiling - and that is the nearest to a smile that Brian gets

Up the Sherbrook Valley

There was no Fish and Chip Walk in 2022, Francis was in no position to organise one. The tectonic plates had twitched and they would not twitch back, but it did not yet feel right for anyone else to step in. In spring 2023 he was able to travel to Australia to see his son, daughter-in-law and his three grandchildren, meeting the youngest for the very first time. Good as this was, his problems were not going away.

We walked upstream on the western bank…

Walking almost beside the Sherbrook

…which at one point takes a loop away from the brook. I thought it might make a pleasing photo.

Winter trees - the picture was a disappointment, definitely not worth getting left behind for

When you are at the back and pause to take a picture, everyone walks off and leaves you behind. I caught up, but was glad we soon stopped for coffee.

Now I have to catch up

We drank our coffee sitting in a concrete trough built across the brook years ago for a purpose no longer obvious. I was too interested in a sit and a restorative beverage to bother taking a photo, but we used the same spot in 2020.

Coffee in 2020, Sherbrook Valley

This was the year of Covid, social distancing (almost complied with), Boris’ ‘rule of 6’ – not that he bothered much – and Tier 3 restrictions. There were many people on the Chase in 2020, it was a dry, mild, Saturday and there was nowhere else to go. On a wet Tuesday in 2023, we had the place to ourselves.

I usually start these accounts with a group photo. With startling originality, the first photo in this report consists of five rear views. Fortunately, at this point Anne took a group selfie.

Anne's group selfie (thank you, Anne), l to r Anne, Alison T, Mike, Brian, Lee, Me (did I spill my coffee or is that rain?)

Sherbrook Valley to Slitting Mill

Alison C, Francis’ ex-wife (and until recent problems, walking companion.) took on responsibilities she need not have accepted (though knowing Alison, that was no surprise). She organised his medical appointments and after tests and consultations Francis, like my father-in-law, had a diagnosis of vascular dementia. Alison does not live particularly close, but in collaboration with their son in Australia and daughter in Oxfordshire, she saw to it that he received the help he required..

Time was short, so the coffee break was shorter. I have few photos of the next section, it was raining and my camera was wet and threatening to seize up so I left it in the dry for a while.

After a further kilometre beside the brook, we turned uphill on a path that would have returned us to our starting point had we not veered right on unmarked paths. Lee chose a deer track which petered out in long, wet grass, those further behind gained from his experience.

We crossed the minor road a little south of Rifle Range Corner, found our way to Flint’s Corner and then down a familiar section of Marquis Drive. Approaching the visitor centre, Marquis Drive is tarmacked, but later becomes a foot path descending to the A460 Rugeley to Hednesford road.(N + 8) went that way in 2018, but this year we turned left a kilometre above the road.

Just turned off Marquis Drive

The path descended through damp and desolate countryside.

a wet and miserable place

It cheered up when we reached some trees, then after turning right by open fields and passing a stable, we reached the road to Slitting Mill. Rather than walk with the traffic, we took a familiar detour along a stream behind a row of houses. At the end house someone is always slouched on a chair beside the stream, but I have not seen before in his work clothes.

Is this where the real one lives? He might not be a North Pole resident after all

The stream is higher than the path which is higher than the field. I assume this unnatural arrangement is connected to the provision of water power to the slitting mills that gave the village its name.

Stream (to the left) higher than path, higher than the field

Further along Mike took the path off to the left which climbs to a dam below a pool now used by anglers. I remember trying that some years ago, but there was no way through, so I went the long way, expecting Mike to catch me up after his detour. I was wrong, there is a short cut.

Slitting Mill and the Horns

Alison was looking after Francis from a distance, but others rallied round. Lee, a near neighbour, heroically mowed Francis’ lawn all summer and did other odd jobs, Mike gave lifts and sorted computer problems and we all met up with Francis for short walks on the Chase preceded by coffee or followed by lunch. When this became difficult, we took to meeting up at Francis’ local coffee shop. Some months ago, in consultation with his family, Francis decided to move to sheltered accommodation nearer to his daughter. This will probably happen early in the new year.

A slitting mill was a watermill that slit iron bars into rods as part of the nail making process. The first slitting mill was built here in 1611 and was followed by several others. The mills are long gone, but the village has appropriated their name. Slitting Mill today has 250 inhabitants and looks a pleasant place to live.

We have visited The Horns on several walks, but this is the first time it has featured in the Fish and Chip Walk. For the meal – fish and chips of course - the walkers were joined by Lynne, Hilary and, most importantly by Francis.

Lunch at The Horns, Slitting Mill
Left front to back, Lee, Brian, Francis, Mike, Alison T. Right f to b Hilary, Me, Lynne, Anne

The Horns did us proud, serving up nine portions in no time, the batter was crisp, the fish fresh and the smaller ‘lunchtime’ portion was more than ample.

Back to Rifle Range Corner

During our coffee shop gatherings there was talk of the Chip Walk, but nothing was done. Chatting with Lee after the last get-together we agreed action was urgently needed. I volunteered to organise the social side, fixing a date, booking a meal and so on, and Lee took on responsibility for designing a route. And so, this walk has come to pass. Lynne and I also invited Brian and Hilary to stay so Brian could take part. He was one of the original Chip Walkers until moving to Torquay in 2015, and walked the whole of the South West Odyssey, which by a convenient coincidence moved closer and closer to his new home with each passing year. I saw the walk as being a tribute to all Francis has done over the years, and the lunch as a farewell. It would have been incomplete without Brian.

It had been a long morning, almost 13km, and a longish lunch. The afternoon walk would be short because Lee needed to be home to do some tutoring and because there was little daylight left and, most importantly, because we wanted it to be. ‘Just 3km to make the 10 miles’ he said, mixing units with uniquely British flair.

We retraced our steps, crossing the bridge whose existence I had earlier doubted,...

Bridge over the Slitting Mill waterfall

...walking along the back of the houses, past Santa onto the road. Then, up the lane to the stables and back into the woods. To make our return journey as direct as possible we then turned right, crossed Stony Brook stepping stones…

Mike crosses the Stony Brook stepping stones

…and swung left past the Fairoak Pools.

The final Fairoak Pool

After the last pool there is a steepish climb up to Fairoak Lodge, it was the only real climb of the day, though the camera flattens it out (well, that is my excuse, anyway).

Up to Fairoak Lodge - steeper than it looks

As I laboured upwards, I saw Lee looking at his watch. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to run off,’ he said as I arrived. He left, as did Anne, the only person – in the absence of Francis – capable of keeping up with him.

It was not a long walk from there to the (unsurprisingly) deserted Tackeroo campsite and then down broad avenues back to the start. We reached the end at 4 o’clock, sunset had been 3.55, so we just had enough light to find the cars. According to Brian’s ap we had walked 10.54 miles in 4¼ hours, sticking to a steady 24mins per mile throughout.

Nearly there, though the sun is setting

I was exhausted, but it had been a good day, the Chip Walk Tradition had been upheld in robust fashion. It was also a sad day, Francis walked his last Chip Walk two years ago, though nobody realised it at the time. With his move this will probably be his last Chip Walk lunch, The tectonic plates have moved, the Walk is in new hands, though in my case not younger hands. It is up to Lee, Mike, Anne and me to ensure that new hands are safe hands.

Update: At the end of March 2024 Francis moved to sheltered accommodation in Didcot, near to his daughter, Heather. In June his son Matthew came from Australia on a long planned visit, bringing his two older daughters to see their grandparents. Some days after they left Francis suffered a heart attack and died peacefully in hospital on the 25th of June 2024 attended by Alison and Heather. A sad and far too early end to a life well lived. Rest in peace, Francis.

See also Francis Crane MBE, January 2012

The Annual Fish and Chip Walks

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)
The 1st FGC Memorial Walk: Cannock Chase. Slitting Mill, a Circular Walk (Dec 2024)

Tussocks: The (N + 11)th Annual Fish and Chip Walk

Cannock Chase: The Cutting and The Sherbrook and Oldacre Valleys

From the Cutting Car Park to the Lip of the Sherbrook Valley

Staffordshire

As the title suggest this is the 12th of these walks I have blogged and if you are thinking, ‘11th surely’, I would remind you the first was the Nth, the second (N + 1)th and so on. Last year the Christmas lockdown involved the ‘rule of 6’ (remember that? such fun!), but this year the numbers are unlimited, so there were five of us. We met, as we have the last few years at the Cutting Car Park on the edge of Cannock Chase between Millford Common and Brocton.

So here we are, Alison T, Alison C, Francis, Mike and me (hiding behind the camera), ready to set off. Lee and Sue were unavailable and Anne had cried off the day before having hurt her back during a six-hour volunteer shift at a vaccination centre. An injury nobly acquired.

Setting off from the Cuttings Car Park

It was not excessively cold, nor was it raining, but moisture hung so heavily in the air you could almost wring it out with your hands and watch the droplets cascade onto your toecaps. And humidity was not the only problem, it was not quite the shortest day of the year, but the weather gods had clearly deemed daylight inappropriate and were urging on the swirling mist below and dense clouds above as they smothered the light from the few precious hours between the late dawn and the depressingly early dusk.

The careful reader will have realised that I am wittering on about the weather (and desperately trying to crowbar in the fine Scottish word dreich, which not only says it all, but sounds like it does) because I have little to say about the route.

The Alisons lead along the line of the Tackeroo

We went round the top of The Cutting, through the woods beyond along the line of the Tackeroo and then, with some down but much more up, to the lip of the Sherbrook Valley.

Down and up to the lip of the Sherbrook Valley

This part of the route was the same as the last two years. All three differed later, but, with one possible exception, we have no previously untrodden paths in this region of the Chase. I have already written at length and in various places about The Cutting, the Tackeroo and the Glacial Boulder, so I will not repeat myself, but there is a blog search facility at the top right-hand corner, should you be interested.

At the bird feeding station a sign said – ‘Bird Flu, Do Not Feed the Birds.’ It is not just humans that suffer diseases – I think the little blighters should be told to wear masks.

We stopped for an early coffee, because we were where the bench was, though only Francis chose to use it.

Coffee stop

Down to the Sherbrook

Somewhere round here I usually take a picture across the Sherbrook Valley, but this year I could not see the other side. Nor could I see the bottom, but near the glacial boulder we turned down into the murky depths. It might have been a bottomless pit, but long experience suggested otherwise.

Into the misty Sherbrook Valley

At least the mist gives some atmospheric photos.

Further Down

Predictably we found the stream at the bottom, and all being double jabbed and boosted we had no problem walking on water.

The Sherbrook

Those more grounded in reality used the somewhat minimal stepping stones. I don’t think this set of stepping stones has appeared in one of these blogs before, though at least three others have.

Stepping across

Tussocks!

Over the stream we turned right, walking towards the source. Along here the water disappears and reappears and fills a couple of pools before disappearing for good. Maybe we have not walked on this side before, but Mike and I were struck by the lengthy stretch where the streambed was filled with grassy hummocks, like the heads of a gathering of green-haired goblins.

Tussocks in the Sherbrook

The tussocks were the only new thing on this walk - indeed I am not sure I have seen anything quite like them before anywhere. I have been unable to discover what sort of grass it is, the internet is excellent if you wish to buy tamed ornamental ‘tussock grass’, but little help at identifying a specimen in the wild (suggestions anyone?).[Mike suggests it is greater tussock sedge carex paniculata see comments at the end.]

Further up we recrossed the stream and climbed back up the valley’s side.

Out of the Sherbrook Valley

The Oldacre Valley, Mosses and lichens

I believed we were heading for the Katyn Memorial (search will explain what that is) but as we passed directly over Chase Road into the Oldacre Valley we must have been 1,500m north of the memorial.

The navigational demons of the Oldacre Valley had apparently taken a Christmas break, as we easily found our way down to the environs of Brocton Pool, where, according to the photo below, we paused to inspect the leaves on the ground. Actually, we had a conversation about the variety and brightness of green in the mosses and lichens around us. I was uncertain of the difference but Mike was able to point to examples of both – and on close inspection the differences are striking. Mosses are, of course, plants, and lichens, I know now, are symbiotic composite organisms that arise from algae cohabiting with fungi. Some photographs to exemplify the difference would be appropriate here, but all I have is three people staring at the ground!

Discussing lichens and mosses, or just looking at the floor?

Around Brocton Pool are a number of minor earthworks and the half-buried remains of a few brick platforms. Mike was wondering about the early industrial uses of the area but, with a few exceptions, finding information about industry on the Chase is difficult, maybe there was less than we imagine. More readily available is information about the prisoner of war and army camps from the First World War. Brocton and Rugeley camps were home to up to 40,000 soldiers in training at any one time and had the facilities of small towns. Both were dismantled after the end of hostilities. Brocton Camp lined what is now Chase Road, on the higher ground between the Sherbrook and Oldacre Valleys. We had earlier walked unawares through the middle of it. I would guess the visible remains around Brocton Pool were once part of Brocton Camp.

The end of 2021 has brought more than its share of storms culling those trees not in the best of health, including a number of Oldacre Valley’s silver birch.

Birches, some of them horizontal, Oldacre Valley

Brocton and Back to the Start

We left the Chase through a gate into the end of a residential street leading into the centre of Brocton. A couple of hundred metres up the Milford Road we turned back onto the Chase and up Mere Valley…

The bottom end of Mere Valley

…rounded a tree which has grown rather than fallen across the path…

Is this tree falling over or deliberately trying to reclaim the path

…and reached the tautologously named Mere Pool.

Mere Pool

From there it is a small step to the end of The Cutting. Earlier we had walked from the car park over the top, in winter the cutting itself is usually too wet. I had not noticed that this year had been particularly dry, in fact the opposite, but the floor of The Cutting looked remarkably dry, so that was how we walked back.

Back along the bottom of  The Cutting

Thus ended this year’s Fish and Chip Walk, all that remained was the fish and chips.

Until two years ago we walked after lunch as well, but a heavily booked Chetwynd Arms led to a late lunch in 2019 and no afternoon walk as the light was already fading. Last year pubs were closed, but this year, after some discussion, we followed the 2019 pattern with a 2 o’clock lunch booking. I am unsure if our ascent from the Sherbrook Valley well north of the previously stated goal was accidental and cut half an hour or more from the walk, or intended - I doubt Francis made a mistake - but we were in the Chetwynd arms before 1.30.

At around 10km this was the shortest ever chip walk, but I must admit I was glad to reach the end. After no serious walking since the July Macmillan Mighty Hike on the Long Mynd I was not fit, and would have struggled to go much further.

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)
The 1st FGC Memorial Walk: Cannock Chase. Slitting Mill, a Circular Walk (Dec 2024)