Introduction


When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.

We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.

You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.

We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.

Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.

In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.

In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!

A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing





Friday, 24 January 2014

Cumbria: Canal Foot to Barrow-in-Furness 9/6/2005**


 

 
Flowering currant
 
 
 
Hedgerow cranesbill
From Cark there is a walk across the bay dependent on the state of the tide, so we started today where it emerges on the other side from Cark at Canal Foot, where the Bay Horse hotel where we are staying is situated.  We walked through an industrial landscape beside the Glaxo chemical factory and alien shrubs like flowering currant, leaving a serene estuarine vista behind us temporarily.  John Tovey, joint proprietor of the Bay Horse, passed us in his car, visiting from his home in South Africa.  A path led through a field flanked by a disused railway in front of a high linear spoil-heap, the product of old iron workings.  The path was roughly pitted by cows and horses, but worst of all it was blocked at the end of the field by barbed wire.  We eventually got through this barrier to continue along the disused railway to the head of the saltmarsh beyond the obstructing inlets and spoil heap.  Here we could walk south quite quickly on compacted pebbles, grassy paths and wooded tracks, looking across the marsh at birds, mainly gulls, oystercatchers and shelduck.  The rest of the day continued in this way past occasional clumps of hedgerow cranesbill, sea kale, yellow horned-poppy or, more rarely, sea holly.  At Bayside there was a long inscription carved into the flat grey limestone rock lying on the foreshore, written in 1977 and leaving a record of the times – strikes, reign of Elizabeth II, death of Elvis, Abba topping the charts – and asking how the times a hundred years later would compare.  We left it to someone after us to deliver the answer and walked on variously over firm sand, loose shingle, or between large boulders.  We used the road at times for a change of surface and to avoid a very wet narrow shoreline around a headland, and finally the way became a concrete path between sea-walls, surfaced by wind-blown sand and shells, all around the saltmarsh at Rampside, where industrial smells started to obtrude again.  We walked the causeway to Roa Island, past Founey Island nature reserve where waders and terns nest, the track to which is covered at high tide.  Roa Island met two equally pressing needs – a loo and a taste of something refreshing.  The second was satisfied by 'Lakeland Cinder Toffee Ice-cream'.  At the far end we overlooked the sea and Peil Island with its ruined C12th castle, to which there is a ferry.  We returned along the causeway past washed-up moon jellyfish, crossing the sands left by a falling tide below cliffs.  We entered Barrow via a concrete path between saltmarsh and gas terminal, power station, sewage works.  The rather mean streets of Barrow are typical of any industrial town.  They led to the refurbished railway station and a service that today was running.
 
River mouth, Canal Foot
 
Saltmarsh approaching Barrow
 
Canal Foot jetty in the evening, view across estuary

 
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