Showing posts with label UK-England-Staffordshire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK-England-Staffordshire. 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)

Thursday, 29 April 2021

The Staffordshire Way: Day 7 Seisdon to Kinver Edge

Like the Barcelona posts, this post and its companions are a Covid lockdown project. The walk actually took place in 2005/6.

For an introduction to the Staffordshire Way, see Day 1.

Day 7 Monday 28/08/2006

The End of the Road

Participants: Francis, Mike, Alison C, & Myself

Staffordshire

There had been a longish gap since Day 6, but in early summer Francis was busy with the Duke of Edinburgh Award expeditions, then there was the small matter of summer holidays - and finally along came the August bank holiday Monday, the perfect day to finish the walk. This was our third day on Section 3: Parkland Staffordshire and the Southern Uplands. It is not as flat as some of its predecessors and finishes on the sandstone ridge of Kinver, Edge, but I am not totally convinced that a ridge rising to a dizzying 164m can really be described as 'southern uplands'. Still, it was a fine day's walk and brought the project to a pleasing conclusion.

Section 3: Parkland Staffordshire and the Southern Uplands

Seisdon To Highgate Common

August was distinctly warmer than April and it was not just Mike in shorts when we returned to Seisdon. We had our boots on and we were ready to go by 9.30.

Almost ready to leave Seisdon

Abbot's Castle Hill

We left the village on gently rising field paths which headed west, then south onto Tinker’s Castle Lane. This took us onto a ridge called Abbot’s Castle Hill (according to the OS Map), though the blog Lucy’s Wednesday Walks says it is locally known as Tinker’s Castle Ridge. There is no genuine castle, Abbot’s or Tinker’s though there is a Romano-British earthwork - not that we spotted it.

The ridge (it is not a hill whatever the OS say) runs SE-NW some 60m above the surrounding countryside and for several kilometres marks the Staffordshire/Shropshire boundary. Not so far back we were flirting with the outskirts of Wolverhampton, but our route drifted south west and we had crossed Staffordshire’s narrow tail without realising it. The scarp on the Shropshire side is steep, but summer foliage obscure the view.

Abbot's Castle Hill (really a ridge)

Halfpenny Green

Halfpenny Green Brut

The ridge became steadily lower and peters out around Halfpenny Green.

In 1983 Martin Vickers planted a ½ acre of vines just north of the hamlet and founded what was (I think) Staffordshire’s first modern commercial vineyard. Halfpenny Green Wine Estate now has 30 acres (12 ha) under vines producing 50-60,000 bottles a year, making it by far the largest of the county’s 5 current commercial vineyards.

On the other side of the village was RAF Bobbington, which after the war became became Halfpenny Green Airport and now describes itself as Wolverhampton Airport. At an air race here in 1972 Prince William of Gloucester, the Queen’s cousin, clipped a tree with a wing of his Piper Cherokee; he and his passenger died in the ensuing crash. When we walked past in 2006 the then owners had a plan to start commercial flights handling 500,000 passengers a year. After local opposition they gave up and sold the airport in November 2006. Halfpenny Green now concentrates on private aircraft, flying schools, helicopters and microlights.

Halfpenny Green airport

We headed south towards Highgate Common. En route we encountered some members of the local hunt. The hunting of wild animals with dogs became illegal in 2005, though drag hunting is still permitted. They looked shifty – as shifty as expensively dressed men on very large and expensive horses can look. They also seemed suspicious of us, carefully watching as we moved off their patch. I have no evidence that anything unlawful was taking place, maybe it is just my prejudice…..

Towards Highgate Common (deliberately with no huntsmen in shot)

Highgate Common to Enville

130 ha of mixed heath and woodland, Highgate Common was returned to its natural state after being cultivated during World War 2. With 140 recorded species of fauna of which 36 are rare either nationally or regionally, it became a Site of Special Scientific Interest in 2004 when under the care of South Staffordshire District council. Since 2009 the common has been owned and managed by the Staffordshire Wildlife Trust.

Highgate Common

It is now said to be well equipped with benches and picnic sites, but perhaps there were fewer in 2006 as we had our coffee seated on the ground.

Coffee break

Working our way south west me must have passed near to Mere Hall, a mid-18th century listed building with later additions which now advertises itself as a ‘glamping site’. I do not remember it nor the two fish ponds the maps says we walked between.

Continuing to Lutley Lane we encountered the second of the two emus on this walk at Salters Park Farm – I thought it odd to find one emu is Staffordshire, but there were at least two in 2006. There are more now, and should you require an ostrich or a rhea, they too are available. Salters Park also had a llama, though it failed to cooperate with the camera.

The Salter's Park Farm emu

We turned south down Lutley Lane, leaving it after 300m to continue south where the road curls off to the west.

Leaving Lutley Lane

Following the path south we crossed Philley Brook, rounded Bendey’s Wood and after a couple of kilometres emerged on the A458 just outside Enville.

Bendey's Wood

Enville

We stopped for a snack and a pint at The Cat at Enville, something of a favourite watering hole at the time. It has been CAMRA’s South Staffordshire Pub of the Year in six of the last eight years so perhaps I should have made the effort to visit it since 2006. Back then, at least, The Cat did not look much from the outside, but the interior was comfortable, the management welcoming and the beer came (and still comes) from the estimable Enville Brewery, which has been operating in the nearby hamlet of Cox Green since 1993. Enville Ale, their signature brew since the start, is well worth seeking out, particularly as a summer beer. Based on a 19th century beekeepers’ recipe, the use of honey gives it a beguiling sweetness and a ‘bouquet of floral summer’ (their words) well balanced by a dry hoppiness.

Francis and Alison outside The Cat, Enville

At the south end of the village, we passed Enville Hall. Something of the original Tudor Farmhouse lurks within the current hall which is largely rebuilt after a fire in 1905. The Enville estate was acquired in the 15th century by the Grey family and in 1628 Henry Grey became Earl of Stamford. The Earls of Stamford also acquired Dunham Massey Hall on the edge of Greater Manchester which became their main seat. When the 7th Earl died childless in 1883 the estate was split, Dunham Massey going to the 8th Earl – a distant cousin of the 7th - and Enville passing to even more distant relations. The 10th Earl died childless in 1976, the Earldom went extinct and Dunham Massey passed to the National Trust. Enville Hall remains a private residence and is still owned by descendants of the Greys.

Enville Hall

A track took us round the Enville parkland and into Lyndon Covert. As a ‘covert’ is by definition ‘a thicket in which game can hide’ this is or was Enville Estate pheasant shooting territory.

Through Lyndon Covert

From Lyndon Covert a sunken lane…

Along the sunken lane

… and another covert took us almost to Kinver…

Nearing Kinver

…where we turned right and climbed Kinver Edge, a sandstone ridge south of the town which marks the boundary between Staffordshire and Worcestershire.

Kinver from Kinver Edge

Kinver Edge is noted for dwellings hollowed into the soft stone. The Holy Austin Rock Houses, were inhabited until the 1960s, making them the last inhabited troglodyte dwellings in the country. Much of Kinver Edge is owned by the National Trust, some of the cave dwellings have been tarted up and are open to the public. They were close to our route, but I do not remember seeing them and have no photos, so presumably we missed them.

The high point of the edge, 164m, is marked by a trig point where we paused for a photo….

Alison, Francis and me, Trig point, Kinver Edge (so Mike took the photo)

….before continuing to the spot where Staffordshire become Worcestershire and the Staffordshire Way ends. Mike and Alison were completing this walk for the first time and this is how they looked at the end.

Alison and Mike at the end of the Staffordshire Way

Francis and I had also completed the walk nine years previously with Brian (absent today) and Dino and this is how we looked then. Dino was a companion on many walks in the 1990s and early 2000s, but sadly not in 2005/6.

Dino, Brian, Francis and me at the same spot in 1997

A descent of the edge to a car left in one of the National Trust car parks brought the Staffordshire Way to its conclusion.

It is, to be fair, not one of the great walks, the start and finish are good, but some of the middle section is a little dull. But overall, there is great variety, hills and rivers, hamlets and small towns, canals, railways and industrial archaeology. Above all, it is always green and there is abundant fresh air – and in seven full days we saw only 20 minutes rain.

Today's distance: 19km
Total distance completed: 150km

The Staffordshire Way - start to finish

The Staffordshire Way