Skip to main content

National Forest Way: Bagworth and Thornton Reservoir


I'd hoped to be further along with my walking by now, but a combination of illness, bad weather, and inset days meant that I couldn't get out for a few weeks. At the first sign of a break in the clouds, I was ready to go.

It had rained heavily the day before, and there was still a watery feel to the air. I parked at Thornton Reservoir and donned waterproof trousers and wellies, then started by following a footpath along the back of some houses in Thornton. The village is perched on a ridge, which slopes down to the reservoir on one side, and Bagworth Heath woods on the other.

view to Bagworth Heath woods

I picked up the Leicestershire Round opposite the village school, and followed it past an old mill, across a railway line, and through the woods. One section of the path was particularly squelchy.



At the end of the woods, the footpath sign pointed right, which I assumed meant I should follow the road. It wasn't until afterwards that I realised I could have crossed over and taken a footpath on the other side. The road took me past a little building which apparently housed a funeral bier, for the use of the inhabitants of the village. I couldn't see inside, but presumably it looked something like this.

The Bier House

About this time I realised I'd left my phone on the satnav holder inside my car. I spent the rest of the walk in that weird Schrodinger's cat state, where you are equally convinced that it will be perfectly safe, and that someone will have smashed the car window and stolen it. No way to tell until I got back. I kept walking.

long straight road
 

Bagworth has a long straight road which I had traversed on my previous trek. I was glad to reach the turn-off for the National Forest Way. A short lane took me to a bridge over the railway, and then along beside it. This line is the Leicestershire and Swannington Railway, one of the earliest railways in England. The section at Bagworth originally had an inclined plane, where the loaded wagons, going down, pulled the empty wagons up the slope on a rope. Once locomotives became more powerful, the inclined plane was bypassed. The path on which I walked followed its route, but there's not much to see apart from the steady downhill gradient. The railway would have once been very busy with coal from the collieries. Today I didn't see a single train.


site of the inclined plane

Veering away from the railway, I passed Bagworth Park (with strict Private signs), squelched and slid across a few fields, and came out on the road through Thornton again. This time when I got to the school, I turned the other way. Suddenly a beautiful view opened up in front of me. The green grass sloped down from my feet, and on the opposite hillside the sun lit up russet trees and golden fields.


Thornton Reservoir

I walked down the hill and followed the path around Thornton Reservoir back to the car park. Phew. The car was unharmed and my phone was still safely inside it.


Relieved, I perched on a bench to have a sandwich and take a selfie. It was too cold to sit for long, so I ate my apple while walking up the lane for the second half of my hike. 

The NFW took me down a field to Rothley Brook. This is the outflow from the reservoir. It was flowing at a tremendous rate, and a small tree had been jammed against the footbridge, knocking the planks sideways. Even if I had crossed it, I could see that there was a stream of racing water blocking the path on the other side. Definitely not worth the risk.

maybe not....

So I cut across the field and made my way down to the next footbridge. Fortunately that one was in good order. On the other side I was met by sedate swans, curious llamas, and noisy guinea fowl!

this looks better!

llamas looking at me

guinea fowl and geese

I rejoined the NFW and followed it for a short distance to my end point. From there, it was a quick and easy return to the car via the road across the reservoir dam.


 

11.75 km / 7.25 miles

Previous sections:

Ellistown, Bagworth, Nailstone

Normanton le Heath - Ellistown

Ashby - Normanton le Heath

Calke Abbey - Ashby de la Zouch

Hartshorne, Foremark, Calke Abbey

Overseal - Hartshorne

Rosliston - Overseal

Rangemore - Rosliston

National Memorial Arboretum - Rangemore

Comments

Cascita said…
Hi Martha, we love your National Forest Way blog - please could you get in touch with us at the Forest as we'd like to share it and also send you a little token to celebrate completing it! I'm Carolyn, the Forest press officer and you can email me on cbointon@nationalforest.org

Popular posts from this blog

Mr White Watson of Bakewell

Once upon a time, back in 1795 or so, lived a man who was always asking questions.  The kind of questions like, "Why is glass transparent?" or "Why do fruit trees grow better in that place than in this place?" or "What does the earth look like underneath the surface?"  This last question was one that he was particularly interested in, and he went so far as to work out what the rock layers looked like where he lived, and draw little pictures of them.  Now he was a marble sculptor by trade (as well as fossil hunter, mineral seller, and a few other things) so he thought it would be even better to make his little pictures in stone.  That way he could represent the layers using the actual rocks they were composed of.  Over the course of his lifetime he made almost 100 of these tablets, as he called them. Then he died.  And no one else was quite as interested in all those rocks and minerals as he was.  His collection was sold off, bit by bit, and the table...

Laid-back Lille and Bustling Brussels

After a night in a tiny AirBnB in Canterbury , where there were chocolates on the table and artwork on every inch of the walls, we boarded a ferry with an absolute minimum of fuss, enjoyed a smooth crossing of the channel, and were deposited in the decidedly unscenic surroundings of the port of Dunkirk two hours later. Once we got past the cranes and shipping containers, though, the countryside was flat but pleasant. We stopped at a small town called Cassel, reached by cobbled roads winding up a hill. On the summit was an old windmill and a topograph telling you the distances to various improbable places; St Omer may have been visible in the haze, but Manchester was surely over the horizon.  In Lille, we found our apartment, unpacked the luggage (one rucksack apiece), and set out to find food. Our first choice was fully booked, so we embarked on that kind of aimless wandering where everyone is hungry and no one wants to actually choose a restaurant. We reached a Lebanese place call...

Preparing

Graham and I have a small difference of opinion when it comes to cleaning for visitors.  He thinks I have perfectionist tendencies.  I think I'm doing the bare minimum.  After all, I have to at least pick up all the toys and clean up that pile of crumbs that keeps appearing under Toby's dining chair, don't I?  And while I've got the vacuum cleaner out, the living room and hall always need doing.  And there's no way our guests want to see all that dirty washing up, so I'll just do that.  And wipe all the counters.  And file all those pieces of paper that have been sitting there for weeks.  And... what?  Perfectionist?  Me? Of course, this may be one of those male/female divides.  Most of my female friends regard having guests over as an opportunity to make the house look reasonable for at least a few hours.  Because all that clutter just builds up.  A pile of paper there, a stack of laundry waiting to be put away, those o...