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





Tuesday, 28 January 2014

Hadrian's Way: Brocolitia Fort to Cawfields Quarry 4/9/2005***


 

Heather
 
Medieval tomb beside Wall
 
Hadrian's Wall to Housesteads
 
This was a satisfying energetic walking day with steep undulations, great views across moorland, and some of the best preserved Roman remains.  We passed mainly through rough grazing land dominated by rushes, but there were good examples of moorland vegetation around the crags and the Wall itself – plants like heather, eyebright, sometimes thyme and bell heather, occasionally mouse-ear hawkweed and goldenrod.  We started by road round the rookery at Carraw Farm, through some peaty marsh areas and alongside the north ditch.  Suddenly the Military Road diverged several hundred metres away from the line of the Wall. As a result much more of the Wall was now unspoiled, apart from the normal wear and tear of weather, time and farming.  Several turrets and milecastles survive, if only as low walls, and we could walk right by the Wall.  At one point we passed a medieval tomb built right beside the Wall.  At turret 34a were remains of stone flooring as well as wall foundations.  Far to the north lay the isolated farmstead of Stell Green, whose narrow track snaked across our path at Sewingshields (a corruption of the family name Sigewine).  Here the Wall rises along the edge of the dolerite sill of Whin Sill and there was no need for a north ditch because the escarpment fell more steeply and much further than any ditch could.  Sometimes the columnar jointing of this volcanic intrusion could be seen.  The hard rock was sometimes used for the foundations of the Wall, but mostly they used the more easily worked sandstone from further afield.  The rocky crags here were surrounded by heather and great woodrush.  The Wall itself rose to 13 courses at one point, far higher than before, extending for miles cresting the skyline.  Another good section rose up the hill to the corner of the Vercovicium Fort at Housesteads.  There were no café facilities here and we could only get out-of-date ice-creams.  There was a charge to visit the remains and we did not have a lot of spare time, so we quickly left by the NW corner where a section of wall had been reinforced for visitors to get the experience of walking on the wall itself, discouraged elsewhere because of the potential damage.  Milecastle 37 unusually had the remains of an arched gateway on its north (wall) side.  A little further, the view was enhanced by the beautiful blue (at least today in the sunshine!) of a lake, Crag Lough, below the tallest crags, completed by a pair of mute swans.  Viewed from above, through red-berried rowans and purple heather between the crags, it was an enchanted scene.  We passed above the site of Vindolanda Fort, well below the path and the Wall, and then entered good moorland with whinchat, meadow pipits, wheatears, the pretty heath bumble-bees and the rove beetle Philonthus tenuicornis.  For a while we followed the Roman military road just south of the wall, avoiding the most arduous ups and downs, but mostly we soldiered on by the Wall itself despite the difficult gradients and rocky paths.  These undulations were caused by frequent gaps in the sill, one of which, Sycamore Gap, had a lone sycamore standing proudly in the dip while the Wall swept straight past, negotiating all the changes of contour with unrelenting solidity that has survived 2,000 years.  While the obvious reason for taking the Wall along the sill would seem to be its defensibility, the chief reason was apparently the presence of limestone here that could be used for mortar.  After Steel Rigg a modern dry-stone wall replaced the Roman original, but more lengths re-emerged all the way to Cawfields Quarry, where all of a sudden a steeply rising section of Wall comes to an abrupt end at the quarry face, an entire hill having been cut in half.  Here we found hairy lady's-mantle. Below lay a lake, picnic site and car-park, and we walked 500m down to road to the Military Road and the bus-stop at Milecastle Inn, a welcome source of a few Big Lamp bitters to alleviate the wait.
 
Crag Lough
 
Wall along Whin Sill
Sycamore Gap
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