The Roaches and Lud's Church: Cowpat Walks No. 10

A Peak District Walk Taking in Two of Staffordshire's Finest Sights

Staffordshire

Staffordshire
Moorlands

365 days after the last Cowpat* centred on Codsall (it would have been a year to the day had 2016 not been a leap year) Brian and I met Francis and Alison in Stone and together we drove to the Roaches.

The Roaches

The Roaches, Peak District National Park (Photograph April 2011)

The Cowpats Walks within the Peak District
no. 10 just pokes into Cheshire at its eastern end

The walk had not been conceived as a Cowpat - the occasion was a visit by Brian and Hilary from their new home in Torquay - but as we strolled along Alison asked if I intended blogging it and I was surprised to hear myself answer 'probably'. Then I commented that the walk had most of the attributes of a Cowpat, and nobody argued, so here it is.

We left home in drizzle (the weather forecast had been good right up until this morning) but it stopped before we arrived.

The parking spaces on the road below Hen Cloud and the Roaches have been the start of several walks over the years and the Roaches have appeared in this blog before (A Republican Ramble Round the Ramshaw Rocks, 2011).

Ready to depart on the road below the Roaches
With the long drive, and Alison coming all the way from Cheltenham it was almost 10.30 before we started

The Roaches (the name derives from the French for ‘rocks’ and does not infer an unpleasant infestation) are a 500m high ridge of gritstone. The road where we parked is at 300m, so the day started with a climb up onto the rocks via much-used well-graded paths….

Gently graded path up the Roaches

…through woodland…

Up through the woods, the Roaches

…and occasionally up steps.

Nearing the top of the ridge, the Roaches

Once on the ridge, there is a long but gentle rise towards the highest point. The ridge is an airy place - so airy, in fact, I had difficulty holding the camera still taking these shots.

Along the Roaches Ridge

With the rain gone and sunshine tickling the edges of the clouds, the day was clear and the views good. To the Southwest is Tittesworth Reservoir with the town of Leek (Queen of the Staffordshire Moorlands, as it likes to style itself) just visible beyond.

Tittesworth Reservoir with Leek at the far end

Looking northwest, The Cloud with its slanting gritstone cap guards the entrance to the Cheshire plain where the radio telescope at Jodrell Bank could be clearly seen.

The Cheshire Plain with The Cloud (left side, half way up) and Jodrell Bank (level with The Cloud, two thirds of the way across

We continued to the trig point marking the 505m high point. The trig points that sit on summits major, minor and sometimes barely discernible are an evocative reminder of earlier map making. Now obsolete some are in a poor state, but someone had bothered to give this one a coat of whitewash.

The trig point on the Roaches

From the trig point we started the long descent through interesting rock formations. In March 2009 I came across a photogenic grouse perched on a nearby rock. During World War Two five Bennett's Wallabies escaped from a private zoo and at one time the group had grown to 50 or more. Occasional reported sightings around the Roaches and Lud’s Church (see later) suggest they are still out there. Sadly, we saw no noteworthy fauna on the Roaches today.

Descending along the Roaches ridge

The descent ends at a minor road which we crossed and then ducked behind a wall to find a cosy wind-free coffee spot.

Coffee behind a wall

Into Back Forest

The ridge continues for a couple of kilometres, 100m or more lower than the Roaches, but we took a path that leads down to the woods on its northern flank.

Before reaching the trees we had a distant view of Shutlingsloe. One metre higher than the Roaches, it consists of layers of mudstone and limestone topped with a sloping cap of Chatsworth Grit. The summit was the main objective of Cowpat 5.

Shutlingsloe

On the upper path through Back Forest the wind-tossed leaves and branches made the dappled sunshine dance along the path. Contouring through the trees was pleasant, only a little spoiled by the frequent muddy sections, and the tree roots veining the track and threatening to trip the unwary.

Through Back Forest

Lud's Church

After a kilometre we reached Lud's Church, or, as the OS Map helpfully calls it 'Lud's Church (Chasm)'.

Entering Lud's Church

Faults in the gritstone run along the ridge, some of them packed with softer mudstone. At some time in the past, probably after the glaciers retreated and before humans arrived, a huge chunk of the gritstone slipped downhill towards what is now the Dane Valley. The result is a narrow defile 100m long and 18m deep.

Into the lower part of Lud's Church

Wikipedia claims that whatever the weather the depths of Lud's Church are always cold but in the late summer/early autumn sun, and completely protected from the wind I found climbing through the bottom of Lud's Church warm work.

Unsurprisingly, such a noticeable feature has been fancifully connected with a variety of characters some legendary, like Robin Hood, and others real like Bonnie Prince Charlie. Imaginative derivations of the name are also legion. Most likely, there is a connection, both physical and linguistic, with the Lollards, the followers of the 14th century philosopher and religious reformer John Wycliffe, who would have needed a place of refuge. Wycliffe produced an English translation of the bible in the 1380s when such an action was radical, indeed heretical. 'Lollard' is drive from a Middle Dutch word meaning 'mumbler', and was a sneering reference to those with a little learning, but no knowledge of the classics (like a lot of us today).

Brian in Lud's Church

Also interesting is the identification of Lud's Church with the 'Green Chapel' in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. The 14th century chivalric romance was written in the North West Midlands dialect (some have even said the Leek dialect) so Lud's Church may well have been known to the author.

Alison heads for the exit, Lud's Church

Over the Ridge and down to the River Dane

From Lud's Church we headed upwards out of the woods and over the ridge as it drops towards the Dane Valley.

Out of the woods and over the lower part of the ridge

With a good view back to the Roaches, we rounded Hangingstone Farm....

Looking back to the Roaches

And made our way across a field of sheep….

Across a field of sheep - there were sheep, honest. They were just camera shy.

…. to the woods above the River Dane and the steep descent to the river,....

Down to the River Dane

... reaching it at Danebridge.

Across the Dane Bridge at Danebridge

Lunch at The Ship

Cheshire

Cheshire East

Once over the river we were in Cheshire and ventured a couple of hundred metres into this strange and wondrous land but only as far as the Ship Inn where our Staffordshire walk was graced with a Cheshire lunch. The Ship has an interesting history and was the lunch stop on the Shutlingsloe walk where I wrote about it at length.

I enjoyed my pulled pork with hoisin sauce in ciabatta, but I was not the only one to find the beers, from the Greater Manchester brewery of J W Lees, lacklustre. We had passed the Wincle micro-brewery on our way up from the river and it seemed a shame that The Ship could stock none of their beer.

After our late start it was nearer three than two before we headed back down to the bridge. Unusually for Staffordshire rivers (even if on the border) the Dane heads not for the Trent and the east coast, but continues westward through Cheshire until joining the River Weaver at Northwich. The Weaver flowed into the Mersey until 1887 when the Manchester Ship Canal was built, and it now enters the canal at Runcorn dock.

The River Dane

Back into Staffordshire and a Plod Back to the Car

Staffordshire

Staffordshire
Moorlands

In the morning we had enjoyed a splendid and varied walk, in improving, if varied, weather. The gentle sunshine of the afternoon was perfect walking weather but the route was less interesting. The morning had been a long curve and we returned by as straight a chord across it as paths allowed.

At Danebridge chapel we took a path back up through the woods. At the fork the left route was obvious, the right more hidden, and that was the one we wanted. After a little backtracking we found our way to a house marked on the map as ‘Snipe’….

Up towards 'Snipe'

…and then made for the minor road across the Swythamley Estate (once home the of Brocklehursts who also owned The Ship and a zoo with - and later without - wallabies).

Across the Swythamley Estate

From there continuously rising but featureless field paths took us from farm to barn to farm. A bit dull, but couple of hares careering across our path improved it, and made up for the morning’s lack of fauna.

It was not all field paths

We forded the unnamed stream that is the main feeder of Tittesworth Reservoir and made our way up to Roche Grange through a wet field pocked with cows’ footmarks which always makes for difficult walking.

Up a cow-pocked field to Roche Grange

At Roche Grange a sign led us through deep nettles into a dead end, and we had to backtrack and take the lane up to the road below the Roaches. The lane was steep and, unlike the path we could not find, veered away from our destination.

The lane from Roche Grange - steeper than the photo makes it look

Eventually we made it to the road and a couple of kilometres on tarmac brought us back to the car.

Along the road below the Roaches and back to the car

After a shaky start the weather had sorted itself out and it was good to get most of the team back together though we missed Mike (family commitments) and Lee (so young he still has to work). All things considered, it was a fine day out.

*Starting in November 2011, the Cowpat Walks have formed a rough circle of circles as the starting points have moved clockwise around Stafford – though the clockwise sequence has not been strictly adhered to.

The Cowpats

1 Ironbridge Gorge

2 Eccleshall and Cop Mere

3 Swynnerton to Whitmore

4 Biddulph, The Cloud and Rushton Spencer

5 Shutlingsloe and Danebridge

6 Crowdecote
7 Scaling the Mighty Weaver Hills

 8 Morridge and Onecote
9 Codsall
10 The Roaches and Lud's Church

Walking the Upper Dove Valley

The River Dove from the Source (almost) to Beyond Beresford Dale

At 9 o’clock I met up with Brian near Barracks Farm at the end of Beresford Dale where he found a suitable place to leave his car. Despite cloud cover it was a still and surprisingly warm morning. I drove us north towards Flash, reputedly the highest village in Britain. At 463m (1,519ft) Flash hardly compares with Ushguli, but its modest claim is well attested.

We left my car in a pull-off beside the A53, several hundred metres from the village but at about the same height. In this more exposed position there was a breeze with a cutting edge.

The pull-off on the A53 near Flash

Not Quite Finding the Source of the Dove

Staffordshire

We did not have to go far to find ourselves looking down on the River Dove, and only a little further to make our first navigational error; coming out from the field onto the minor road a hundred metres below where we should have been. Our detour involved stepping over an electric fence; it was not, we found, live, always good news to those of us with short legs.

Brian looks down into the Dove Valley
He is moving to Devon at the end of the month, so is he thinking
a) This is my last chance to enjoy the Peak District countryside
b) Why doesn't that prat hurry up and take the bloody photograph
c) nothing at all?

Derbyshire

For most of its 72km the Dove [now universally pronounced to rhyme with 'love', though traditionally it rhymed with 'rove'] forms the boundary between Staffordshire and Derbyshire. At the bottom of the valley we crossed the river into the barbarian lands of Derbyshire and turned upstream through the area marked on the map as 'Dove Head'. Our path dipped to run briefly alongside the stream; clearly we had not quite reached the source, but we shrugged our shoulders and turned right up the other side of the valley. If Burton and Speke had taken that attitude with the source of the Nile, the whole history of exploration would have been different.

The source of the Dove is down there, somewhere

Between the Dove and Cistern's Clough

Over the top of the ridge we descended slightly to pick up a path contouring along the top of a valley above the oddly named Cistern's Clough which meanders its way south into the Dove. Tracing the stream back on the map it appears to be a more remote source than the official source of the Dove – I do not know what Burton and Speke would have made of that.

Cistern's Clough

Cistern’s Clough wandered off to the east and after a couple of pauses to study the map we found our way to Howe Green, where they have some fine Highland cattle.

Howe Green stands on the base of a triangle of flat, high ground between the Dove and Cistern’s Clough, now wandering back westwards . Our intended path was along the top of the narrow valley of the Dove, avoiding the track that drops into it, and meeting above the confluence with a path along the top of Cistern's Clough. We could not locate the right path, but while we paused, considered the map, walked on, paused again, reconsidered the map and walked on again (and repeat), we had time to notice that the meadow was carpeted with wildflowers.

Wildflowers, Howe Green

Eventually we stumbled upon a post with arrows pointing down the paths along the top of either valley, neither of which we had been on, and a third pointing down towards the confluence. It was a steep little descent to where Cistern’s Clough joined the Dove – though the tributary looked the larger of the two streams.

Starting down to the confluence

Beside the Dove to Hollinsclough

We turned south down the left (Derbyshire) bank of the combined stream. Having lost so much height so quickly, the path’s determined climb back up the valley side was a tad irritating.

Where Cistern's Clough (right) meets the River Dove

Eventually we reached an old road that runs down into the valley from Booth Farm, heading for the minor road to Hollinsclough. Well-made and of some antiquity, presumably a drovers' road, it descends to the river and crosses it on a fine old bridge. A modern road sign warns that the road is limited to vehicles less than 1.8 metres wide, so it is still in use, if only by quadbikes (in theory a Peugeot 208 would just fit - without its wing mirrors - but I have no intention of checking this out).

Looking back up the old road from Booth Farm

Now back in Staffordshire we followed the path along the valley side, or attempted to. It kept on petering out, and then reappearing twenty metres above or below us. When we set off I had thought that we might reach Hollinsclough too early for coffee but the village seemed to retreat down the road as we approached, and we finally arrived at midday. We had taken much longer than expected, mainly because of the time we had spent standing in fields pondering over the map.

The old road crosses the Dove

Hollinsclough

I wrote about Hollinsclough on the Crowdecote walk (Cowpat 6) so all I will say here is that it once used to be a much larger village where people worked on silk weaving, sending their produce over the hill to Macclesfield. The village was also important in early Methodism; the Methodist church still functions and the church hall kindly provides a bench for wanderers to sit and drink their coffee. Down in the sheltered valley it was warm, and the sun even put in a brief appearance.

The Methodist Chapel, Hollinsclough (photographed March 2013)

Hollinsclough to Crowdecote and a Glass of Lunch

Crowdecote is 4km from Hollinsclough, and as we intended to have lunch in the Pack Horse at Crowdecote we did not linger over coffee. Fortunately our onward path was largely level and presented few navigational problems. As the Dove approaches Hollinsclough the valley widens considerably and we set off across it to re-find the river. Ahead of us was the jagged outline of Chrome hill and the strange triangle of Parkhouse Hill, the remains of a tropical reef formed before shifting tectonic plates put this piece of land at its current height and latitude.

Across the Dove Valley towards Parkhouse Hill

We again crossed the Dove – we chose the footbridge rather than the ford – and back in Derbyshire we followed the flat bottom of the valley all the way to Crowdecote. On Cowpat 6: Crowdecote we climbed Hitter Hill en route, but as we were late we carried straight on down the valley, completing the 4 km in an hour.

Alison faces the footbridge/ford decision in Cowpat 6, March 2013

I like the Pack Horse Inn at Crowdecote, indeed I wrote a whole post on their pies. Today's pie was chicken and mushroom, but as Mick the landlord admitted, they are filling, so we settled for 'light bite'gammon steaks and a couple of pints of the Cottage Brewing Company’s ‘Sunset’. The brewery (in Castle Cary, Somerset) calls it 'a golden summer ale...with cascade and nugget hops...a refreshing, easy drinking session ale.' I was thirsty, it had been a warm morning, particularly marching along the flat valley bottom, and the beer winked seductively at me through the condensation on the glass – the first pint disappeared quickly. I can thoroughly recommend CBC’s Sunset; it is a beer that hits a spot and keeps hitting it most pleasantly.

The Pack Horse Inn, Crowdecote (photographed Feb 2012)

Pilsbury Castle

In the afternoon we continued along the grassy valley to Pilsbury Castle, an earthwork sitting on a natural rocky promontory. A motte and two baileys were built in Norman times either to control the area after the 'Harrowing of the North' (1069-70), or during the civil war between King Stephen and the Empress Matilda (1135-54). Either way, the function of the castle is obscure – why guard the upper section of a remote valley which goes nowhere? Despite its apparent uselessness, its doubly tautological name (pils being a Celtic word for fortified place, bury being Saxon for the same thing) suggests ‘Castlecastle Castle’ might have pre-Norman origins. The setting was pleasant on a summer’s day, but in winter it is the sort of place only a madman would care enough about to defend.

Pilsbury Castle and a look back down the Dove Valley

At the castle the path climbs up the valley side, giving good views of where we had been, before continuing along the flat(ish) top.

Along the rim of the Dove Valley

Hartington

To the south the valley widens and the river wanders off to the west, leaving us deep inside Derbyshire – an experience not for the faint hearted. After a couple of kilometres along the valley’s grassy rim we hit the minor road that descends into Hartington. With its village green, duck pond, ....

Hartington Village Green
There were too many parked cars around the green to get a proper photo, but this is what it looked when Francis (not on this walk) and Brian sat beside it in Feb 2012 (no tourists in Feb!)

....mellow grey stone buildings, hanging baskets and flower filled gardens, Hartington is the classic Peak District village and was appropriately full of tourists. Despite its apparent size - and its industry (cheese making) - Hartington has fewer than 400 permanent inhabitants. Brian headed straight for the ice cream shop, an idea so brilliant I would have liked to claim it as mine. Bradwell's ice cream has been made in the village of that name some 25 kilometres to the north for over a century, and a scoop of their cherry-bakewell flavoured ice cream was (almost) as good as a pint of Sunset ale.

Hartington in more summer-y mode

To and Through Beresford Dale

Continuing south from Hartington we descended gently across a limestone plateau....

South of Hartington

...and then entered an area of deciduous woodland; a sign said it was planted in the early 1990s, though it already looks splendidly mature. We re-met the river after its westward wander at the mouth of Beresford Dale where we crossed a bridge back into Staffordshire and civilisation. After flowing down an ever widening valley, the Dove changes character and dives into a series of narrow limestone canyons on its way to the prime tourist spot of Dovedale. Beresford Dale, the darkest and narrowest of these defiles, is less than a kilometre long, and at its end, just before it transforms into Wolfscote Dale, we turned up the lane towards Barracks Farm and Brian’s car.

The River Dove in Beresford Dale

The End of the Walk - and the End of a Chapter

We finished about 5.30, later than intended, but a long morning had required careful navigation. Sunshine had been only an occasional visitor, but it had been a pleasant day and as warm as you want for walking. On our way back to Flash, Brian regretted that we had ventured out on fewer such walks since retirement than he had hoped, and with his imminent removal to Devon there would now be even fewer opportunities. He was right, getting together during busy retirements has proved harder than expected, but I have photographic records over the last 7 years of 19 such walk (though previously only The Limestone Link has been on the blog), not to mention Cowpats, Chip Walks, the annual South West Odyssey, and several more outings of which there is no record.

This was a good walk to finish a chapter, but there will be more…..

approximate Distance: 18 km