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





Thursday, 23 January 2014

North Devon: Hunter's Inn to Lynmouth 8/7/2002****

 
Sorbus subcuneata
 
Wall pennywort & English stonecrop
 
 
Along the Heddon Valley footpath below Hunter’s Inn there was a large amount of the naturalised plant fringe-cups.  We ascended the side of the valley eastwards and struck north for the coast, which was quite wild.  Here were ravens and peregrines. Below we could view the seabirds from the colony around the cliffs of Wringapeak – herring gulls, fulmars, great black-backed gulls, guillemots and razorbills.  After passing a stream with a waterfall we entered the ancient oak woodlands that fringe the whole of Woody Bay.  They were mostly unspoilt, with such plants as wood sorrel, cow-wheat, enchanter’s nightshade and masses of great woodrush.  There was the occasional native white-beam – we encountered both Sorbus devoniensis and the rarer S. subcuneata.  There was the occasional tutsan and wall pennywort but there were a few invaders like rhododendron, buddleia and Leycesteria.  We took a long winding sidetrack to the beach, passing wood vetch, which could also be seen on the cliffs above the beach itself.  The scenic shore was rocky with coarse sand.  The shells were the usual rocky shore assemblage, with mainly Patella vulgata and winkles on upright rocks, and Monodonta lineata on the flatter boulders.  Many stones and shells were covered with barnacles (Balanus crenatus, B. perforatus, Elminius modestus), the calcified tubes of the keelworm Pomatoceros lamarcki and the tubes of cemented sand-grains of Sabellaria worms.  Regaining the path higher up the cliffs we continued through the same woodlands.  We left the main path to circumnavigate Crock Point, through farmland of no great interest, but at least a change from shady oak woods, to which we briefly returned before descending to Lee Bay.  This headland belongs to the religious retreat of Lee Abbey Hotel, and we had to pass landward of the hotel along a toll road, beside which we saw spotted flycatchers performing their proper tasks – spotting flies and catching them.  This road led directly to the famous Valley of Rocks.  We eventually descended into Lynton, where we crossed the funicular railway (connecting the town to the shore) several times as our track zigzagged down the same cliff to come out on bouldery Western Beach.  We finished by walking the harbour front and main front street of Lynmouth, taking in the exhibition in the Memorial Hall of the devastating 1952 floods that brought hundreds of thousands of tons of boulders down the rivers, destroying many buildings and taking many lives . We then settled down at the C14th Rising Sun, facing the harbour – a fine room, a good meal and friendly helpful service.  After a predominantly overcast day we saw a colourful sunset out of the restaurant window, although by then the rain had already started to fall.  We went out for a post-prandial constitutional at 9.30-10pm, along the harbour walls, when it was almost too dark to see, discovering the self-sown Hypericum olympicum from the Balkans (a garden introduction) on the river-wall below The Rock restaurant.
Barnacles Balanus perforatus on mussel shell
 
Barnacles Balanus crenatus on painted top shell
 
Worm-tubes of Pomatoceros lamarcki & Sabellaria (brown tube right of centre) on pebble
 
 
 
 



Valley of Rocks
 
 
Hypericum olympicum at Lynmouth
 
 

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