Forest Grump

I’m not intending to get overly political on here, but something has recently been brought into sharp focus. I have been reading “Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!” by Nobel Prize-winning physicist Richard Feynman. Amongst the articles is one in which he bemoans the increasing occurrence of fake science and the lack of experimental rigor applied in much research. This is how Feynman concludes a lecture on scientific integrity and the increasing prevalence of pseudoscience:

“So I have just one wish for you – the good luck to be somewhere where you are free to maintain the kind of integrity I have described, and where you do not feel forced by a special need to maintain your position in the organisation, or financial support, or so on, to lose your integrity. May you have that freedom.“

The integrity he refers to is the opportunity for the scientist to maintain a scrupulous honesty in his work. The argument goes something like this: decide what you want to investigate, test it using approved experimental procedures, and record accurately the results. Then publish the findings – and here is the bit where the integrity comes in – whether or not they support the initial supposition. It is OK to be wrong – you may be on the way to discovering something new instead!

What struck me today is how different the political process is from the kind of approach used in science. In politics, a problem is identified, reports are commissioned to investigate the matter – let us assume for the moment by independent, trust-worthy researchers – and the findings published. Two further processes then occur that don’t really occur in science; the findings are forced through an ideological sieve – to remove anything unpalatable – and the remainder subject to spin, before conclusions are drawn. So the results, it could be argued, may be subject to more scrutiny, but the difference is that that scrutiny is, in one way or another, biased.

So, what has this got to do with walking? Well, I have been thinking about the above and applying it to the proposed sell-offs of both the Forestry Commission woodlands and our National Nature Reserves to private owners.

Although proposals regarding a sell-off of National Nature Reserves have been ditched for the time being, those relating to the Forestry sell-off are now at the consultation stage and input about their future standing is being sought. MPs have recently voted on the issue of the Forestry sell-off and decided to proceed to consultation with an unmodified version of the proposal; this despite serious concerns voiced by experts and professionals in the field. On top of this there is a huge groundswell of public opinion against these proposals: not scientific in itself, I agree, but indicative of the general public feeling – call it a gut instinct, if you like – that it is the wrong thing to do.

But my big beef with the vote – and I appreciate this applies to many situations, not just this one - is that if you examine the results in detail you can see they are split quite obviously along party political lines. I’m not quite sure how, in the fullness of time, this approach will lead to the outcome that is best for the public, the forests or their wildlife. Whatever the results of the consultation, and however strong the public opposition, can we trust our MPs to put aside their political affiliation, judge the evidence impartially and make the correct judgement? I fear not.

There is a serious worry that private ownership will not provide the best future for those forests and will not necessarily maintain the relatively free public access to these spaces that we currently enjoy. Government officials are trying to assure us that all will be fine and that legislation will protect our woodlands, drawing comparisons with the protection we have for Rights of Way. But legislation can be changed: watered down in future parliaments. Governments often drive through unpopular measures claiming that they have a mandate from the people and it was part of their manifesto when in fact all that existed was a vague reference buried deep somewhere in the document. And, as any walker will know, RoW protection is weak – low down the list of priorities for the police and often subject to lengthy court battles by pressure groups or Councils, both of whom have few resources – either in time or money – to bring the culprits to justice.

It has also been mooted that charitable organisations, trusts and community groups might be able to take on the leases and management of these forests, but where the money for them to do that is to come from is unclear at the moment. Until that is resolved, it seems the idea offers no real prospect.

So I am in full support of the campaign. Whether or not the sell-off is halted entirely, whether it results in a re-draft of the proposal, or whether it will be pushed through unchanged despite all the concerns expressed, only time will tell. But I, for one, am hoping that a degree of common sense prevails and the judgement is made in the best interests of the forests and the public.

Go to www.38degrees.org.uk for more information on this and to support the campaign.

Access All Areas

There’s been a bit of chat lately on a couple of walking-related Internet forums about Access Land and whether, as walkers, we are getting as much out of it as we might. Access Land is the term used to describe land in England and Wales recently designated by the Countryside Agency on which the public can now walk and explore freely, without the need to stick to marked footpaths; land previously off-limits to walkers or, at best, accessible only by tacit agreement with the landowner.

These areas were drawn up as a result of the Countryside and Rights of Way Act 2000 (often referred to at the time as “The Right To Roam” – of which more later) and which came into effect from late 2004 onwards, also the date from which the Ordnance Survey began showing the designated areas on their Explorer range of 1:25,000 scale maps. Around this time, signs and information also began to appear at the boundaries of Access Land.

At the time there were quite a lot of column-inches devoted to these newly created areas, about how this was the culmination of 75 years of campaigning and the final realisation of the legacy of the 1932 mass trespass on Kinder Scout: a new freedom for all and a victory for the common man over the intransigent landowner. The creation of Access Land was, of course, a key constituent of the CRoW Act 2000 and hailed as a major victory for walkers both by the Ramblers Association and others. It is a noble concept that appeals to the liberated citizen in us and widely celebrated, but I suspect that, outside of the very keenest walkers, few actually take much notice of those areas even if they know what they are.

So, with areas designated, maps annotated and signs posted, the walking fraternity flocked to the fells to blaze new trails across this previously untapped resource, right? Well, apparently not - if the conversation across the ether is anything to go by.

In fact it seems as though it has made very little impact at all, so far. There are those who already took advantage of the open uplands, whether completely legally or otherwise: for them little will have changed. For others, the desire to remain on pre-determined paths is overwhelmingly strong. In many other countries, even those with vast areas of wilderness, most hiking is on designated trails or ancient paths and tracks. There seems to be a deep-set urge inside us, possibly from our nomadic past, to follow ancient and established routes – perhaps reinforced by a feeling of being in tune with the rhythms of nature and the folds of the landscape. Of course there are exceptions, but I would estimate that a very large percentage of walking is still on marked paths.

For me, there is nothing finer than the idea of pioneering a new route in glorious countryside, grabbing a slice of wilderness and getting away from the crowds. I know many who don't feel the same - who either lack the desire or the confidence to do so - and their experiences are just as valuable and valid to them as mine are to me. But for those few who do wish to venture off the beaten track the question is “How do I get the best from it?”

Looking at the maps for inspiration is a start, and it doesn’t take long for the colours, symbols and contours to work their magic. Intuitive lines seem to rise from the page – a ridge here, a summit there - and routes often fall readily into place. So far, so good; but the major problems facing the Access Lander now become more apparent. The question now is whether or not the route is passable on the ground.

Maps do show a number of official entry points to Access Land, and it is often easy to spot where paths intersecting or running beside Access Land boundaries might provide ingress. Beyond that, though, things become less clear as there is no sure way of knowing whether subsequent boundaries, streams or other obstacles can be readily crossed. Access Land or not, damaging property – such as walls or fences – is not an option.

Nor is it always easy to tell what the condition of the ground is. Some areas of upland can be notoriously wet and boggy, covered in tussocks of grass and reeds, or be a minefield of sinkholes. Therefore, it may be a rewarding way to spend an hour or two exploring an area with no target in mind, but it makes it difficult to incorporate such land as part of a longer route without prior knowledge of the conditions that might be encountered or whether the route is passable all the way through.

Coupled with that, the law allows for intermittent closure of Access Land for the protection of wildlife, ground nesting birds or livestock, and for a variety of other reasons such as maintenance, safety, etc. It is quite difficult to understand what is covered in these conditions – what reasons allow for temporary closures, how long they might last and what sort of notice has to be given. Websites need to be consulted, and finding the information is not particularly straightforward. Suffice it to say the situation can change at fairly short notice!

So it may well prove to be a matter of trial and error. Pick your route and maybe don’t commit to too much Access Land without prior knowledge, or at least have a “Plan B” ready for if it doesn’t work out. Gradually, over time, the picture will become clearer as more and more land gets explored. Some areas are already well covered – the Howgills for example, where there are many paths clearly apparent on the ground yet not shown on maps, but that are known about, appear in guidebooks to the area, and are regularly used. I’m sure the situation will be very similar in lots of places across the country – the Lakes, the Peak District, the Yorkshire Dales and North Wales to name just a few.

I dare say blogs might have a big part to play, too. There are lots who are prepared to try a few different things and commit them to cyberspace. Others might then follow in their footsteps, adding their own twist to proceedings. Eventually, routes might appear in print – perhaps not in the conventional manner, but in a way that gives useful information about the quality of line/route, underfoot conditions and terrain, the best access points, boundaries and streams and how easy they are to cross, danger areas, and whether compass navigation is needed.

Whether Access Land as we now have it is the best way of dealing with the situation is a moot point. Many feel that a massive opportunity was missed to push for a model similar to that operating in Scotland. In my opinion, referring to it as "The Right to Roam" was something of a mistake, too - both in the sentiment if infers and the actuality of the legislation. The fact is that as a phrase it has the ability to rub landowners up the wrong way and, at the same time, inform poorly the general walker as to their rights. I speak to quite a lot of people (admittedly not all keen walkers) who think we are now perfectly entitled to traipse anywhere regardless.

But, since the situation is unlikely to be revisited anytime soon, we must make the most of things as they are, working within the uneasy truce that now exists. We must also resist the temptation to think that the job is already done. In reality, it may only be the next generation of walkers that experience the true benefit. In the meantime, I hope to make a few “off-piste” trips of my own in the coming year and to add a little extra spice to my walking. After all, the most important thing is to enjoy it - whatever you do.

Out with the old, in with the new.

It seems like no time at all since the flaming shades of autumn were gracing the countryside and we were enjoying beautiful walks in the Peak District and the Shropshire Hills. The warm, sunny days were full of promise; ice and snow seemed a long way away.

Since then, though, winter arrived with a vengeance, locking the country in its icy grip and threatening to bury Christmas under inches of snow. What with shortening days, the weather, preparations for Christmas and family commitments, the last weeks of 2010 yielded only a few short local walks – all pleasant enough in their own way but lacking a little in challenge.

Consequently our annual mileage total suffered slightly too, coming in at around 650 miles – a little down on our best year, but good enough considering we had family to look after and only took one two-week vacation. A few days off over the festive period yielded three short circuits in Shropshire – a final flurry for 2010 – plus a good start to the New Near clocking up 20 or so miles in and around Dentdale.

Now our thoughts turn to 2011 and the possibilities that lie ahead. Although the days are still short, bit-by-bit they are drawing out. In the meantime, the long January long evenings provide a great opportunity for planning, and holidays are at the forefront of our considerations. In the next few days we will have a couple of trips booked; something concrete to look forward to, to pull us towards spring and to make things look a bit brighter in these still-dark days.

I’m sure there is more winter to come. Travel might be yet be difficult and the days cold once more. But, although there is always the chance of one of those crisp, clear, bright spells that make for great winter walking, it’s nice to have something to focus on that can infuse a warm glow when the chilly, grey days return.

I have high hopes for the coming year, looking forward to new places visited and more miles walked – and a bit more blogging, too. So here’s to 2011 – let’s hope it’s a good vintage!

Ladybower Circuit – approx 8.50 miles

Sunday 17th October 2010

Map:

OS Explorer OL1 The Peak District - Dark Peak Area

Route:

Ashopton Bridge – Crookhill Farm – Bridge-end Pasture – Woodock Coppice – Lakeside Road – Fairholmes – Derwent – Lakeside – Ashopton Bridge

Weather:

An almost perfect Autumn day, bright and clear, cool in the shade but quite warm in the sun.

Day two of our Dark Peak weekend couldn’t have started much better. A quick peek out of the hostel window showed purple hills rising below a clear, half-light sky, so we hurried down to the kitchen to make our porridge.

Pausing only to scrape the ice from the car windscreen – the first time this autumn – we threw everything into the car and set off. On a morning such as this, there are few better places to be than Ladybower, somewhere we hadn’t visited for a good couple of years, and very soon we were parked on Ashopton Bridge preparing for our walk.

We began by taking the rising path towards Crookhill Farm. As we gained height, we were rewarded with increasingly good views across the reservoir to Derwent Edge beyond. The stroll over Bridge-end Pasture was a joy; the sun’s rays now beginning to cut through the early-morning chill. At the top of the ridge, views began to open up to the west as the path traced the edge of Hagg Side wood. We stopped for a break by the junction of paths near Woodcock Coppice, with a magnificent view of the entire Edale skyline laid out in front of us.


After a quiet start, it was getting a busier. Walkers and cyclists began to appear from all quarters. Over the next mile and a half we followed the track northwards through sun-dappled woodland to meet the lakeside road close to the point where Ouzelden Brook enters the reservoir. Danger, in the form of Mountain Bikers, was never far away, but we made the road without any mishaps and turned southwards to follow the road along the side of lake.


Soon, we approached Derwent Dam. The little museum in the west tower was open, so we went in for a quick look round. It’s quite interesting, dealing as it does with both the history of the construction of the dams and of the famous Dambusters of WWII.

The visitor centre at Fairholmes was heaving. Although we are normally seekers of solitude, the buzz of so many people enjoying the fabulous day was quite exciting. We bought hot drinks and sat on a bench to eat our sandwiches in the sunshine. Ducks and dogs pestered us gently for crumbs and more.

Lunch eaten, we followed the road below the dam to the eastern side of the lake. The track along this side is relatively flat and rarely strays far from the lakeside, providing an easy ramble for the final couple of miles. Looking up, we could see the Gritstone outcrop of Whinstone Lee Tor presiding over the southern end of the lake.


The last mile or so followed a wooded track, eventually meeting the main road by Ashopton Bridge at the end of an excellent walk. Admittedly, it is not an especially long or difficult walk, but the weather and scenery combined to make this an unforgettable day, and we made a promise to ourselves to come back and see more of this area as soon as possible.

Chinley to Edale – approx 9.75 miles

Saturday 16th October 2010

Map:

OS Explorer OL1 The Peak District - Dark Peak Area

Route:

Chinley Station – Cracken Edge – Whiterakes – Peep O’ Day – Coldwell Clough – Oaken Clough – Edale Cross – Noe Stool – Crowden Tower – Grindsbrook Clough – Edale Station

Weather:

A mixture of sunny and overcast conditions, mostly bright but with some rain in the afternoon.

Autumn is one of our favourite times of the year, and the Dark Peak one of the best places to enjoy its dazzling spectacle to the full. A spell of decent, clear weather is almost guaranteed to get the best out of the beautiful colours so we are usually ready and waiting to take advantage if the forecast is promising. So, with the prospect of a fair weekend ahead, we set our alarm clock early, threw all our gear into the car and made the long journey north.

Thus it was that we found ourselves leaving Chinley at just after 9.00am on a cool, sunny morning, climbing steadily towards Cracken Edge and the track that contours round its east side. Although still quite early, we were not the only ones to make a prompt start as the flurry of hikers, joggers and dog-walkers testified. Away to our right the hillside dropped steeply down to Otter Brook and the Hayfield Road, beyond which the bulk of Kinder Scout was fringed by low cloud.

We dropped down to cross the A624 at Peep O’ Day where a large delivery wagon was trying to squeeze its way down the narrowest of lanes. After a quick snack stop, we picked up the Pennine Bridleway, skirted the flanks of the curiously named Mount Famine and zig-zagged into Coldwell Clough where the metalled lane gave way to a rocky track, the ancient packhorse route between Hayfield and the Vale of Edale, and we began the long pull up Oaken Clough. As we crossed the Access Land boundary we took a moment to look back at the craggy ridge of Mount Famine and our earlier route.

Continuing upwards, we soon reached Edale Cross and the saddle between Kinder Scout and Brown Knoll. While catching a breather, we stopped in the warm sunshine to chat to a lady we met there, basking in the beauty of the day.

The next leg of our walk took us along the southern edge of the Kinder Plateau. After a very short stretch along the Pennine Way, we veered off to the right, heading for Noe Stool and the perimeter path. Weaving through a series of peaty channels and weirdly eroded rocks, we made our way eastwards along the edge.

We stopped for lunch. Perched high on the sunny side of a weather-worn Gritstone outcrop, we had a great view across the valley to the Great Ridge and Rushup Edge. But the skies had been darkening, and, as we packed our things away, a first few spits of drizzle began. Waterproofs were donned - this wasn’t forecast!

By the time we reached the top of Grindsbrook Clough a steady rain had set in. The drop into the Clough is quite steep and rocky, and, although Gritstone is very grippy underfoot, the rain had made the mud a bit greasy and our glasses kept fugging up. A slip here could easily have led to a twisted ankle, so, as neither of us fancied carrying the other one down, we took our time, picking our way carefully step by step beside the stream. Even so, Missy G managed to miss her footing - fortunately, there was no real damage done, just some additional souvenir mud to take home with us.

Soon the path levelled out and the going became easier. The rain stopped, and the sun broke through the cloud again as we trundled towards Edale village, Grindsbrook Clough looking splendid in full autumn conditions.

As you might expect on a nice day at this time of year, the village was heaving. Besides all the walkers and day-trippers, a group of Geography students from North Staffordshire University were there on a field trip led, as it turned out, by one of my former lecturers. So it was with little regret we forsook a cup of tea and caught the train back to Chinley and our car – all of 8 minutes ride – reflecting on another great day.

Lan Fawr, Mitchell’s Fold & Marrington Dingle – approx 11.75 miles

Saturday 2nd October 2010

Map:

OS Explorer OL216 Welshpool & Montgomery

Route:

Todleth – Old Churchstoke – Cowlton – Lan Fawr – Mitchell’s Fold – Weston House Farm – Lower Ridge – Whittery Wood – Marrington Dingle – A490 – Alport – The Rock – Old Churchstoke - Todleth

Weather:

A nice Autumn morning, gradually clouding over into the afternoon. Quite warm but with a cool breeze.

After a month of various celebrations and a very wet week, a good day had been forecast for this Saturday so we took the opportunity to get a decent walk in and chose the area to the north and east of Churchstoke. We started by walking along the lane that skirts the western side of Todleth Hill to reach Old Churchstoke with views across to Montgomery and the Vale of Kerry already in evidence. A short way along the road to Hyssington, below Roundton Hill, a lane branches off taking a rising line to the east of north. Passing the house at Cowlton the lane dissolved into a track across the hillside, from where we could see across the valley to the Kerry Ridgeway behind us.

The track continued to rise steadily towards the pass between Lan Fawr and Corndon Hill, with the hills of Snowdonia coming into view on the skyline to the west. Just beyond a gate we crossed into Access Land and branched off left to take in the small, knobbly summit of Lan Fawr, modest by local standards at 426m but a good place from which to admire the wonderful scenery.

After a quick coffee break we rejoined the track and continued northwards towards Stapeley Common and the Bronze Age stone circle at Mitchell’s Fold. Fifteen of the stones still stand and, from its impressive position, it is easy to imagine the legends woven into its 3,000 - year history.

We headed west off the common picking up a track in a steep-sided gully that took us to the lane near Middleton Hall Farm. The route we had planned was scheduled to follow a field path across five or six fields and rejoin the lane near The Knoll. But it was here we ran into our first problem of the day - although clearly signed from the lane, beyond the first field the path became impossible for us to find. There was no stile or signage and a large tree had crashed through the fence around where we calculated the next stile to be.

Whatever the reason, after around 10 minutes of searching we decided to backtrack to the lane and follow it the longer way round instead. Although the lanes are quiet and pretty enough it was a shame as there was already a fair amount of road walking to be done. However, we reckon it might make a good winter walk when firmer underfoot conditions might be advantageous.

Having got ourselves back on track, we had a break for lunch then carried on along the lane to Whittery Wood. Here we met the path through Marrington Dingle, a steep-sided, heavily wooded cleft that has the feel of a “hidden” valley. Threaded through by the River Camlad, the valley sits in the grounds of Marrington Hall and, although the main path is waymarked and passable, the surrounding land is signed as private.

This brought us to the second of today’s problems; the two paths marked on the map leading to the east were not in evidence on the ground so, to complete our circuit, we ended up climbing out to the west giving us about a mile of walking along the main road to meet up with our proposed route. I must remember to report these problems.

From Alport we took the muddy path down to the river and crossed by the footbridge. A short climb on the other side brought us out by The Rock. There were still a few late blackberries in the high hedgerows and, as we wound our way back along the lanes, we picked enough to flavour a handful of small, scrumped apples we had acquired.

Later, we went back up to Mitchell’s Fold to watch the sunset and reflect on our recent walk. Overall it was a good enough trip, but because of the problems we encountered a bit of fine-tuning is required to get the best out of it, and I’m sure we’ll be happy to try.

Autumn Glory

I love Autumn. Keats’ “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” is, without doubt, one of my favourite times of the year. The prospect of some of the best British produce as well as some excellent walking means there is always plenty to look forward to.

Sitting here as the rain rattles against the window it is hard to imagine the sun ever shining again. But it can, and will, and when it does it can be a truly glorious time of year. Admittedly, the days are becoming a little shorter and the nights are closing in that bit sooner, but there is still plenty of daylight for an ambitious day out and the chance to work up an appetite. What could be nicer than a bracing walk followed by a hearty meal rounded off with a fine fruit pudding and custard?

Recent weekends have been taken up with a variety of celebrations – birthdays, weddings and anniversaries – with hardly any time for walking other than a quick hour or so here and there. So it’s quite nice to be looking forward to an October with few relatively commitments and a chance to get a few more miles under our belt. In anticipation I have been poring over the maps, plotting and planning our forthcoming trips, which is perhaps the next best thing to walking itself.

Outside, the leaves are already beginning to turn, their greens morphing to flaming yellows, burnished browns and fiery reds. Soon hillsides and valleys will appear emblazoned with rich colours that cannot fail to cheer the heart.

So, here’s to a favourable forecast and a good appetite. Roll on the next few weeks!