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The Churnet Way: Pheasants Ahoy!

The weather forecast had promised sun, but the clouds hadn't got the message and couldn't be bothered to move on. It was dry, mild, and fairly still, so it was pleasant for walking, even though the sky stayed overcast.


I parked in the Sheepfold car park, off Hollins Lane, and set off through the woods. I dropped into a valley, climbed out again, and rounded a corner to discover a gorgeous autumn-coloured view. Down the hill, two deer trotted away. A nearby bench was dedicated to Joyce Dixon, "who loved walking in these hills and valleys so much". I could sympathise with that.



At the bottom of the next valley, I was glad someone had made a boardwalk for the path. Even so, the stream was threatening to overtake it in places. And... hey! No one warned me I might fall into an abyss on this walk!



Back on the Caldon Canal towpath, I soon came to Consall station. You can see there wasn't much room to squeeze the railway alongside the canal. The station waiting room had to be built out over the water.



The Black Lion pub comes shortly after the station. Here I crossed the canal, river and railway. There were more lime kilns and a looong flight of steps. This is the footpath going up to Consall village, which is not really anywhere near the train station.



I avoided the steep hill for now and continued along the canal towpath. For this section, the canal and the river were one and the same. There were a few people out. I overtook a couple of ladies (how do you announce your presence behind someone without shocking them? I need a bicycle bell!) and saw a Canal and River Trust volunteer with a big rake.

canal and lock left, river right

 At Oakmeadowford lock the canal separated from the Churnet again. Further on, the map had a "Drawbridge" labelled on it. That sounded interesting. When I got to it, it looked like this.



The cross beam on the far side obviously acts as a counterweight, and the sign instructed me to pull the chain to raise the bridge. It looked improbable, but I gave it a tug and sure enough, it lifted, with no more effort than opening a lock gate.

By this point the pheasants had started to appear. They ran along the path ahead of me, and every now and again one would get left behind and suddenly flap into flight, right next to my ear. Then I looked across the canal, and... do pheasants swim? Apparently they do.



Cheddleton station had a level crossing with proper old-fashioned lights on the gates, and a few train coaches stood in the station. I had hoped for a bench for a bit of lunch, but the only ones available belonged to the Boat Inn. So I threaded my way through them and kept going along the path. It ran parallel to the canal but higher up, giving me a nice perspective on where I'd just been.



A handy rock next to a gate made a good lunch spot. The pheasants were still everywhere, flocking in the fields and scattering up the track. One had hurt its wing and got stuck on its back. I gently turned it over.

lunch rock

At Felt House Farm I hit a sudden patch of industry. First came giant metal barns and men in diggers. Then a broad concrete road led past a yard full of trailers and a factory with two tall chimneys. The pheasants finally eased off and were replaced by red kites and buzzards wheeling overhead.



 I had to walk right through two farms, which always feels a bit odd. I was glad they both had reassuring waymarkers and cattle firmly behind fences. Finally I hit the inevitable boggy bit. It looked like grass, but it squelched every time I put a foot down, and I was sure there was more water than soil underneath me. I aimed for the biggest tufts of grass and made it to the stile without sinking. The gate next to it was gradually drowning.


Consall

Consall village is just a handful of farms and houses. From here it was downhill back to Consall Woods, then a steep climb up some severely decayed steps. One more soggy field got me back to the car park.



I ruefully surveyed the wet and muddy bottoms of my walking trousers. Why didn't I bring a spare pair? Then I realised - aha! - they zip off at the knee. The mucky bits went in the car boot, and I drove home in shorts.

Consall to Cheddleton  9 miles / 14.5 km

21 October 2024

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