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: Lynmouth to County Gate 9/7/2002***

 
Looking back to Lynmouth
 
Arctic eyebright
 
County Gate
Firstly we walked over the River Lyn, pausing to photograph yesterday’s Hypericum olympicum in daylight.  Jackdaws were squabbling along the river overflow bank, and there was a group of hybrid mallard.  We walked through a small park to the boulder-strewn beach, then began the ascent out of Lynmouth.  The path traversed the cliff at a steady rate, but the climb was unrelenting.  First we climbed through a dark damp wood, rich with ferns such as golden-scaled male, and again we found fringe-cups.  Overnight rain made the path damp and slippery where tree roots crossed.  At one point the path travelled alongside the A39 but a walled walkway was provided so we were not too troubled by the traffic.  We emerged from the wood and continued to walk up the open cliff towards Foreland Point, through tall wet bracken fronds that used our clothing as sponges to dry themselves.  We branched off the official coastal path to take one which had a warning sign around Foreland Point.  The path was narrow, crossing rough patches of scree, with Arctic eyebright in places.  It also descended almost to sea level as we came down to Foreland lighthouse.  To climb back up, the path was wide and surfaced, the scree held back by a wall.  This was covered in interesting plants including carline thistle, wall rue and ploughman’s spikenard.  We also found a live Helicigona lapicida snail.  We rejoined the coastal path and took a break for lunch. 
      Then began a long straight section of cliff facing Wales, generally remaining at a constant height.  Sometimes the path went through ancient woods of broad-leaved trees, such as hazel, oak, silver birch and rowan.  Again the ferns were varied and frequent.  At other times, the cliff was covered in bracken, bilberry and foxgloves, with occasional whitebeams.  One long section was shaded on both sides by tall rhododendron.  This made it difficult to assess where we were and when it was time to turn inland.  At places the path was muddy and whenever it crossed a deep-sided valley, it took long diversions inland.  At the end we reached our final valley and followed it up past an old stone cross, which marked Sister’s Spring.  We entered the private Glenthorne estate where a large area of rhododendron had been cleared for broad-leaved planting though the scarred landscape and tall deer fencing were ugly.  When we emerged on the A39 to catch our bus at County Gate back to Lynmouth we had reached the border of Somerset, another landmark celebrated by mutual photography.  Here is an information centre for Exmoor National Park. 
 
 
 
Lapidary snail
 
 
 
County Gate
 

No comments:

Post a Comment