Skip to main content

The Churnet Way: Rocester and Denstone

I looked at the stile and shook my head. Only a few metres beyond it was a busy B-road with a nice wide verge to walk on, but between the stile and the road was an impenetrable mass of brambles and bushes. I wasn't getting through that lot. Reluctantly, I turned left and trekked along yet another field boundary in search of a gate.


You may recall that my previous walk had taken me to Thorpe, with Toby. If you're really paying attention you will know that I'm then supposed to be continuing on the Limestone Way as far as Matlock. Well, I've taken a detour. 

I realised that I had crossed every bridge over the Dove so far, apart from one small one just south of Rocester. I couldn't miss that out, could I? So today's walk was designed to take in that bridge, but it also happened to start me off on the Churnet Way, which I rather liked the look of. I think I will follow it for a while and come back to the Limestone Way later.

JCB factory and lake

The walk had started well. I parked in a layby near the JCB lake, and set off on a beautiful brick path next to the water. There were lots of ducklings around. One family of them came running when they spotted me, obviously expecting food. For a little while the River Churnet was on my right, and the lake on my left.


river on right, lake on left


At the top of the lake I turned left, went past a large car park, and followed a small lane over a former railway bridge. The Churnet Valley line closed decades ago, and the Churnet Way follows it for quite some distance. I spotted my first waymarker. Then I crossed a field, dodged past a primary school with an unusual turret, and arrived in the centre of Denstone village, where there was a nice memorial fountain.




Just around the corner was the start of the railway path at Denstone station. The church, a little further along, had a similar turret to the school. I walked along the cycle track for about a mile, then cut back on the route of the Staffordshire Way, which runs parallel to the old railway, a little further up the hill.




 The Staffordshire Way crossed the Churnet on Quixhill Bridge. I was glad it was only a short road section, as there was no pavement and it was busy with cars heading to Alton Towers for the day. I soon reached the massive stone arch of Quixhill Gate. It's an old entrance to Alton Towers, two miles up the valley from here.



Turning right, I crossed floodplain fields next to the Churnet. Even with the OS app and its helpful pink arrow, I still zigzagged my way across the meadows, watched by disapproving cattle. Those stiles are never where you think they ought to be.


 Presently I arrived at Rocester. I was surprised to see that I'd allegedly walked 5 miles. The entire route was meant to be 7.5 miles, and I had only done half of it! Oh well. Time for a coffee at the Buttercross Cafe - fuel for the rest of the walk.



The next bit was easy, anyway, as I was retracing some of the path that Graham and I had followed a few weeks ago, following the Dove south from Rocester. Then I was back on those dreaded floodplain fields. This time a flock of sheep watched me as I dutifully followed the public footpath to a stile, even though I could see a gate leading to a more direct route. The stile was buried in nettles. Drat. Muttering apologies to all the sheep who were scrambling out of my way, I went back to the gate, wishing I'd done that in the first place.

River Churnet directly ahead, entering the Dove

Finally I reached the elusive last bridge over the Dove. As expected, it wasn't particularly special - just a fenced metal bridge for a farm track. On the other side was a pillbox with a punk hairdo, and the official start of the Churnet Way.

 


 
 

Unless you are particular about completeness (and I'm not one to judge, having just walked miles in order to say I've crossed every bridge on the Dove!) I wouldn't bother with this first section of the Churnet Way. Start where I did, at the JCB lake - it's much nicer. Here, a series of fields culminated in the dreadful overgrown stile that I described at the beginning, and after that it was just a walk along the B5030. Admittedly the verge is almost as wide as the road, so it could be worse.


The final distance on the OS app was just over 9 miles. I'm still confused by that; frustrating as those field detours were, I doubt they added up to an extra mile and a half. But I walked where I wanted to walk, and (mostly) enjoyed it - that's far more important than the exact distance.

15 km / 9.2 miles

25 August 2024

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Between responsibility and freedom

Wouldn't it be nice to just... go? To walk out the door on a nice sunny day and follow any path you fancy, as far as you like. No time constraints, no shopping list, nothing to hold you back. You're free. You're on your own. You're not the only one to have this kind of dream. Alastair Humphreys' book The Doorstep Mile is written for people who want more adventure in their lives, but somehow never quite get around to making it happen. And the top two reasons why they don't are: "I don't have enough time!" and "I feel guilty/selfish/it's not fair on my family!" So you might start thinking that what we all need is less responsibility in our lives. It's a tempting idea, that freedom. But as I considered my responsibilities, I realised that many of them arise out of connection to other people. I shop and cook and clean for my family, because I love them and want to care for them. I help to teach the kids at church because I am connect...

Enthusiasm and cynicism

Some while ago I heard a sermon on the story of Zacchaeus. I forget what the point of the sermon was - usually for this Bible passage it's something about Jesus saving everyone, even the unlikely people. But I remember wondering, did Zacchaeus really give all that money away? Image by Alexa from Pixabay You may remember the tale: Zacchaeus is a corrupt government official who is rather short. When Jesus arrives in town, Zacchaeus wants to get a look at him. So he climbs a tree to see over other people's heads. However, Jesus spots him and tells him to get out of the tree and go cook Jesus some dinner. I assume Jesus phrased it a little more nicely than that, because Zacchaeus is delighted, and moreover, promises to change his entire lifestyle. "Half of my possessions I give to the poor," he declares with the enthusiasm of the instant convert, "and anyone I've defrauded, I'll pay back four times over." The surrounding crowd are the cynics: Jesus, th...

Working on sunshine

Freeeee electricity!  No, seriously.  This guy came and knocked on the door one day, and I don't usually pay any more attention to random strangers trying to sell me something at the door than you probably do, but I guess he must have said "free" enough times to penetrate my consciousness, so I found myself agreeing to have someone check our house's suitability for solar panels.  And another guy turned up, and measured; and another one, and we signed; and a few more, and put up scaffolding and panels and meter boxes and cable; and suddenly, if we're careful, we can avoid paying for any electricity during daylight hours, because it's all generated right up there above our heads. Of course, we have the British government to thank for this, which probably means we're paying for it somewhere along the line.  The Department for Energy and Climate Change (presumably it's actually against climate change rather than for it, although you never know) has...