Alton village and Alton Towers are perched on opposite banks of the Churnet, with the river cutting a deep valley between them. Most people drive straight through the village on the way to the theme park. But I have a great liking for walks and no fondness at all for rollercoasters, so I found a large layby to park in at Town End, in Alton, and pulled on my boots.
The church bells were ringing as I set off. I vaguely wondered if there was an event. A wedding? Unlikely on a Tuesday morning. Maybe a funeral. I followed a footpath across a few fields to reach Saltersford Lane. This was the width of a single-track road, but mostly overgrown and muddy. I was grateful for the strip of stone flags (and some more modern concrete slabs) which provided a dry surface to walk on.
Presently I came out into some fields and dropped down a slope to the old railway line, at the point where I left it on my previous walk.
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| bit of old rail |
There followed several miles of walking along the railway path. Old railways always have a good flat surface, but they do get a little tedious. I was down in the bottom of the river valley now. Woods rose up on both sides of me, oaks and birch later giving way to tall straight pines. Occasional screams came from my right, which would have been alarming if I didn't know that Oblivion was hidden behind the trees.
On my left, Alton Castle came into view. It's a Catholic youth retreat centre, apparently. I wonder if trips to Alton Towers are part of the program?
I was surprised to arrive at a neatly-painted station, looking as if it were still ready for a train to stop at the platform. Alton station was busy in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, when Alton Towers was already a tourist attraction. It closed in 1965, but is now a holiday cottage. I sat on the far end of the long platform to eat a bit of lunch.
A mile or two further along, I had just arrived at the less impressive remains of Oakamoor station when the rain came down. Hard. I quickly dragged on my waterproof trousers. There may not be much left of the station, but the old tunnel and crossing keeper's house were atmospheric in the rain.
Now that I was off the railway path, I had to climb the side of the valley. Taking a deep breath and mentally engaging low gear, I slogged up a steep woodland path with rain clattering on the leaves. A couple of large helicopters flew over, low.
At the top I met the Staffordshire Way and promptly dropped back down Ousal Dale, stumbling along a stony path with my glasses steaming up. At the bottom was a house and a lake, with a rowing boat pulled up on shore.
The Ramblers Retreat cafe would have been a tempting place to stop if I hadn't been so wet. I kept going, ascending high above the road and river, then dipping down to meet them again. Gradually the rain eased off, so I stopped on a mossy bench to finish my food.
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| looking down to the river and Red Road |
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| a very hollow way |
From there it was a short climb through Toot Hill woods. Great hunks of sandstone stuck out of the ground. In Alton village, some of the houses (including the aptly-named Rock Cottage) had been built onto outcrops of rock. This blogger did a similar walk to me, with a more geological outlook.
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| build your house on a rock... |
The bells were still pealing as I approached St Peter's Church. Had they been ringing for the whole three hours? I stuck my head through the church door and saw a group of people with very focussed expressions, along with a handwritten sign which said, "Please do not disturb the bellringers". I backed out quietly.
As I walked back to the car, the jangle of change-ringing changed to descending scales, and then silence. They'd finished! But no; a brief pause, and off they went again. I was sufficiently intrigued to investigate when I got home, and found this informative video. Looks like much harder work than a three hour walk, if you ask me!
8.4 miles / 13.5 km
10 September 2024
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