Showing posts with label UK-England Walking-Cannock Chase. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK-England Walking-Cannock Chase. Show all posts

Tuesday, 12 December 2023

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 rather premature end to a life well lived. Rest in peace, Francis.

See also Francis Crane MBE, January 2012

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)

Saturday, 18 December 2021

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)

Saturday, 19 December 2020

Cannock Chase in the Time of Covid: The (N + 10)th Annual Fish and Chip Walk

Or the (N + 10)th Annual Fish and Chip Walk

The Cutting


Staffordshire
Even the wretched pandemic cannot stop people going for walk, so this year’s participants posed for the usual departure photo in a responsible, socially distanced group. Even in Tier 3 we are allowed to do this, provided we obey the ‘Rule of Six’. Like most glib Johnsonian phrases, it seems to mean something, but doesn’t. What precisely is the rule of six? Six people, yes, but are children counted? What about bubbles? And what account is taken of the Higgs-Fermi effect: whenever six are gathered together in an appropriate quantum configuration a seventh slips into existence from the sub-space envelope? It once caused the Big Bang (as I am sure you know).
Social Distanced in the Cutting Car Park, l to r, Ed, Anne, Francis, Sue, Lee. Mike

We, again, started from the Cutting Car Park, near Milford on the northwest edge of the Chase, though it was a very different photo last year when we crammed together in Anne’s selfie.

What a difference a year makes

Back then nobody had heard of 'Covid', the words 'social' and 'distancing' were hardly acquainted, let alone partners in a bubble, and masks were worn only by bandits.

After a week or two of drizzle, sometimes rain, our chosen day dawned with blue sky, mild temperatures and a dry forecast. Just occasionally something has to go right.

‘Sparrowhawk!’ said Francis suddenly as we moved off. I looked up to see a small raptor-type bird flash past, not far above our heads. I hardly had time to focus, but if Francis said it was a sparrowhawk, then a sparrowhawk it undoubtedly was.

As usual we walked out over the embankment rather than through the cutting - it is so much drier – then dropped down to follow the old railway line.

Along the line of the 'Tackeroo'

From the embankment down to the Tackeroo

The 13 mile long ‘tackeroo’ (nobody seems to know where the name came from) was built in 1914/15 to service the army camps, stores and POW camp on Cannock Chase. The line was built south from Milford Station on the LNWR mainline (now the West Coast Line), climbed onto the Chase through the cutting we had just used, then followed the high ground along the western edge of the Sherbook Valley. At the head of the valley, it turned east, branching out to service the various camps. The southern end ran from the Hednesford colliery siding onto the Chase via Brindley Valley. The lines met a few hundred metres south of the point now known as Rifle Range Corner.

Along the line of the Tackeroo - the western edge of the Sherbrook Valley

I have walked this path dozens of times, but never before noticed the relentless nature of the upward gradient from the cutting. The rise is roughly 70m over 2+km - persistent if hardly steep - and my memory tells me I have previously sprung up it like a gazelle (though memory is a treacherous beast). I would like to blame the exercise I have not had during the recent lockdown but I am also acutely aware of having ‘enjoyed’ a milestone birthday since I was last here ‘Maybe it’s the time of year, or maybe it's the time of man’ as Joni Mitchell pondered in a totally different context 50 years ago. Francis dropped back to walk with me. ‘I’ve slowed down a lot over the last few months,’ he said ruefully.

Down to the Sher Brook for Coffee then up to Rifle Range Corner

Almost as soon as it flattened out, we turned down into the valley.

Starting the descent into the Sherbrook Valley

Cannock Chase is remarkably well drained, as befits a 200m high pile of pebbles, but rainfall has been plentiful of late so it is not entirely mud free, and if your confident stride hits a patch of slippery mud, you can be precipitated onto your backside. Fortunately, Anne is made of stern stuff, and rose as quickly as she had descended, muddied but unbowed.

This far up the valley the stream has largely disappeared, but a bridge – or channel from the Chase’s obscure industrial past – crosses the stream bed between a marshy section and a pond. It was a good spot to pause for coffee.

Taking Coffee across the streambed, Sherbrook Valley

With good weather, and a dearth of alternative entertainment under Tier 3 rules, the Chase was busy with walkers and mountain bikers. A pair of dog walkers stopped by the pond, threw a ball into the water and their charge bounded in and swam across to retrieve it. And repeat. And again, several times. We had a grandstand view; questions were asked about the dog and a conversation developed. I have never liked dogs (I am not the only one, but people rarely admit it) and I thought this continual jumping into cold muddy water to fetch something that had been thrown away, went some way to explaining why.

There was no plan from here (in pre-Covid days Francis always knew where we were going) so a decision was necessary. Walking back along the other side of the brook to the Stepping Stones was universally agreed to be too short, while Lee’s suggestion of walking to Rifle Range Corner, down Abraham’s Valley to Seven Springs and back to the Stepping Stone felt over-ambitious. A compromise of Rifle Range Corner and then finding a route west of Abraham’s Valley was accepted, though no-one claimed knowledge of the paths in that area.

Reaching Rifle Range Corner involved walking further up the valley, then turning left up a well-marked path, initially on the Heart of England Way, to where a minor road makes a sharp bend. This is the closest tarmac to the remains of the First World War rifle range, hence the somewhat grandiose name for an otherwise undistinguished spot.

Rifle Range Corner to Cherrytree Slade

We briefly followed the wide path from the corner towards the range,...

Leaving Rifle Range Corner

...and after a couple of leftish turns found ourselves in unfamiliar territory, even to those who regard the Chase as an extension of their back gardens. A stop and a think was called for. Lee had an opinion, 'left' if the picture is to be believed, Francis had an opinion, the rest of us shrugged.

Lee wants to go left - others look less interested

Once their discussion had coalesced into a single opinion, Francis raised another issue. Pointing to a bird standing on the path we were not taking he asked. ‘Is that a crow or is it big enough to be a raven?’ Lee joined the shruggers this time and we set off down the agreed path. The bird immediately lifted itself into the air, flew over us and croaked as only a raven can.

The path took us onto the ridge between the Sherbrook and Abraham’s Valleys. Despite the number of walkers elsewhere we had the ridge to ourselves though there is no obvious reason why few people come this way. Observing the Sherbrook Valley from the ‘wrong’ side, only the pattern of paths was different making it strangely familiar, yet unfamiliar.

The Sherbrook Valley from the 'wrong' side

Down Cherrytree Slade to the Stepping Stones

At the end of the ridge, Cherrytree Slade led us among silver birches.

Cherrytree Slade

As we descended, the sonorous rasp of the raven followed us into the valley, as if labouring a point. Mike and I wandered along at the back looking at the subtle colours among the bracken and winter trees. The Chase offers a range of muted hues while winter in the White Peak tends to the monochrome.

Beside Cherrytree Slade

The Stepping Stones and to the End of the Walk

We reached the valley floor and a few hundred metres later arrived at the Stepping Stones. After the recent rain there had been speculation that the water might be higher than the stones, but not so. We had seen almost nobody for some time but this point is a magnet for families – small children find the stones and flowing stream irresistible.

The Stepping Stones have featured in most of these walks and I have almost made a virtue out of no longer photographing them, but I should have done this year. Never mind, here is the 2016 picture, little has changed except Lee’s hat.

Crossing the Sherbrook at the Stepping Stones in 2016

Over the brook we took the path to the right which turns away from the stream, rounds Harts Hill and then a left takes you back up to the The Cutting.

And so the walk ended where it had begun. Lee informed us he had taken some 18,000 steps, no doubt a satisfactory total, and Francis later calculated we had walked 12km in not much over three hours - good going for an old git, I thought.

Fish 'n' Chips and a Tradition Observed, More or Less

And finally the matter of fish and chips, central to the concept of this walk. We finished before two, when the nearest chippie closes, so fish and chips could be fetched for those who fancied standing round in a cold car park eating rapidly cooling greasy chips from the paper. Mike and I found that prospect resistible, and as Alison and Lynne usually joined us for the pub lunch we headed for our respective homes promising we would continue the tradition from a distance. The Fitzherbert Arms in Swynnerton is currently closed (the joys of Tier 3!) but operates a weekend take-away menu. In the morning Lynne had placed an order for fish and chips, so later, showered and rested, I strolled up to fetch them. And very good they were too (whisper it quietly, but I am not a huge fan of soggy, chip shop chips*) and we could have a drink as well.

Fitzherbert Fish & Chips at home

But next year in the pub!

*Along with my earlier admission of disliking dogs, this finally outs me as a traitorous remoaner who hates everything British. A firing squad is probably too good for me.

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)