With high winds and rain forecast over the next few days, this afternoon may have been the last chance for the autumn leaves… A local wander, no need to start the car.

…on Hope Bowdler Hill

We were a bit later setting out than intended – but this one was just right for the time remaining. It’s that time of year again – the clocks have gone back, and the sun’s setting around 4.30pm. As a result, it was still bright –  broad daylight – when we left the car, but the sun was lowering rapidly ahead as we headed back along the humpy ridge of the hill.

Hope Bowdler Hill isn’t high – a whisker under 1400′ – but it’s a great viewpoint, with the 2000′ Radnor Forest clear on the horizon to the south-west, some 25 miles away. The TV mast is just visible on Black Mixen, but other than the much closer mast on Hazler Hill, and scattered farms, man-made objects are not prominent in the views to the south.  What really catches the eye on an afternoon like this is the pattern of ridges, one after another, receding and fading into the distance. But the sun is setting, and it’s too cold (a biting wind) to stay still for long.

A dry day – and lots of sunshine at home. The forecast suggested it might get cloudier later, perhaps the chance of a shower to the north-west – we’d better head eastwards.

The sunshine had already gone when we left home – might it shine again later? Inevitably, it waited until we were well into the forest, clouding up again as we emerged from the trees and headed towards the “glacial boulder” prominently marked on the 1:25,000. Some fitful sunshine made the birches glow, before it disappeared altogether…

We walked this route almost exactly a year ago (see Cannock Chase) – this time, we walked anti-clockwise…

The boots were still sodden from the trip to Foxfield – so with slightly lighter footwear, this was never going to be more than a short walk. It was pleasant in the warm sunshine – the morning’s mist had mostly cleared, though there were still some patches rolling around. The last stretch of the path along the edge is seriously muddy…

The country to the west of the Stiperstones is bright, breezy country, ideal for a walk on a bright, breezy afternoon (a rare commodity at present).

The Bog Centre‘s opening hours seem to have increased recently – a good thing, apart from the possible effects of the refreshments (very welcome at the end of the walk) on the waist line…

Another near-perfect afternoon on the Long Mynd – clear skies, warm sunshine and a cool breeze. We walked from Cardingmill Valley, up past the Lightspout waterfall to the Portway, then along to the highest point at Pole Bank. Our return was along the ridge to the head of Townbrook Valley, which we followed down to the reservoir, then back to Cardingmill.

A pleasant walk for a pleasant afternoon – clear air and a bit of sunshine. It’s a steep pull up to the golf course (but where were the golfers? “Perhaps it’s close season?”). Once above the valley, the views are extensive to the north, less so but perhaps more attractive to the east.

*Batch Valley is (of course?)  tautological… In these parts, a “batch” (would be a “beach” a little further west) is a valley. But we’re not complaining – it’s a lovely spot, whatever it’s called.

This should have been a pleasant Sunday afternoon stroll – and along two sides of the triangular route, it was just that. But beside Borle Brook? Oh dear! There is a public footpath along the old colliery railway on the west side of the stream (as far as the B4555) – but I don’t think anyone walks it – not regularly enough to maintain a route through the jungle (note to self – bring machete and flame-thrower next time). We could have taken the path on the opposite bank, I suppose.

The short stretch beside the B4555 is somewhat hazardous too – it’s a busy road. Perhaps the path which leaves it after half-a-mile, again following the brook, will be better? It was – slightly. The first “field” is another jungle, and the path through the woods, which should be very pleasant, is sticky and slippery. At least the popular path beside the Severn, to Highley station, is walkable.

There would have been a photo or two of Highley station, but ice-cream seemed more important. A train arrived and departed while we sat and ate – a photo would have risked dropping the ice-cream… Lastly, to get back to the car, I’d intended to walk up the trackbed of the former railway to Highley colliery – but missed it somehow and ended up walking the road.

The map is included for information, not recommendation… Perhaps in winter, after a long dry spell? Perhaps not.