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

Lancashire: Knott End to Glasson Dock 17/6/2004


 

 
Fleetwood docks from Knott End
 
Sea wormwood
 
Glasson Dock
We parked on the embankment near the ferry and walked along the front to the town centre, where we purchased lunch from a bakery.  We then went down to the beach, where the sand was interspersed with grassy saltmarsh, and walked comfortably on firm sand for a mile or so, eventually coming up to the embankment top.  The right of way along here ceased near Fluke Hall, but we saw walkers further along, and so ventured along anyway.  We eventually discovered there was permissive access after a footpath that came from the road some 400m along, and so proceeded above Pilling Marsh as far as Lane Ends “Amenity Area”, a kind of conservation area with a couple of lakes and grassland, some of which contained early marsh orchids, while a small patch had been sown to wildflowers, including common poppy, cornflower and corn marigold, attracting red admirals.  We could go no further along the embankment because this area was reserved to Morecambe Wildfowlers for shooting.  We had to proceed, therefore, along the A588, as the way closest to the coast, the official Coastal Way going much further inland along more minor roads.  Fortunately the road was not too busy, but traffic did pass at great speed and there was little verge.  We came across an escaped sheep that was a danger to traffic and tried to assist motorists who stopped to get it back in the field, which was finally accomplished.  Towards the end we took a footpath to escape the traffic, but this was slower because of untended stiles and poor signage.  This brought us back to the main road at the bridge over the River Cocker and the footpath north around the bank of the Lune Estuary.  The way passed through ordinary agricultural land as before, along the odd paved lane and eventually along the embankment leading into Bank Houses, where we turned due north again past Cockersand Abbey Farm, with its remnant of the old abbey in the shape of an octagonal chapter house, surviving because it had been used by an old farming family for its burials.  The abbey had been built on the site of an 1180 hermitage, made of New Red Sandstone gathered from the rocks that outcropped here on the beach.  Plover Scar lighthouse stands there today.  The abbey, like the older farmsteads around here, once stood on a mud island surrounded by marsh.  The coast was wilder than most we have lately visited, with some rarer plants like sea wormwood, sea kale and rock samphire on the sea-walls.  Curlews patrolled the water’s edge.  At Crook Farm we walked inland, more sheltered, and uphill to the Tithe Barn Hill viewpoint above Glasson, from where we could glimpse Helvellyn.  We descended the hill to the harbour to meet our taxi back to Knott End.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Red admiral
 
 
 
 
Curlew

 
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