Monday 21 September - Staffordshire Way (Pt 4)

Where's Bertie? He's at Anchorhold Campsite in Brewood, at a cost of £25 without electricity. 

Weather: sunny and warm (23 degrees)

Whilst we remain largely trapped at home whilst waiting for an appointment date to be set (for Mick to have an ultrasound on his eye - who even knew such things existed?), Bertie was getting itchy tyres and feeling like he was overdue a trip out - particularly as he's seen Erica galavanting off for overnight trips. We thus conceded to his wishes, and I planned to recce the Staffs Way between Cannock Chase and Kinver over the course of three days. 

I didn't need an early start, for the distances I would be doing, which gave us time to get Bertie packed and nip to a supermarket on our way to Cannock Chase. Lunch was then had in a large layby where decidedly dodgy activities were afoot, with various people hanging around shiftily in front of one particular set of bushes, before wandering off across the road into the undergrowth. They were all alone and none of them was dressed as you would expect for a turn around the Chase (particularly the one in a pencil skirt and stockings with lines up the back). Meanwhile, many users of the layby stared intently at us as they passed. 

With the clock about to strike 1pm, Mick dropped me just a little further along the road, and off I headed, almost immediately leaving Cannock Chase and heading to the village of Bednall. 

I'm not sure if it was the sunshine and warmth that caused me not to mind at all that I was, for much of the time, crossing and walking around field after field, but I think it helped that they were massive arable fields and I was often on higher ground, giving me relatively far-reaching views. That's not to say that there weren't trials: freshly ploughed fields with rough margins; overgrown sections (one ridiculously so) that have left me with tingly, nettled legs; a dog that leapt clean over a 6' fence and only came to a stop when it met with the end of my walking pole; and a horse that chased me across a field ... only for me to realise as I exited that I'd missed a turn half way across (I didn't go back). I also expect that some parts would have been far more arduous had ground conditions been wet. 

The final 3.5km were along a canal, about half way through which Mick phoned to alert me to a problem. He'd decided to head out to meet me, but found access to the tow-path to be closed. Whilst he was scouting around for a way to access it, I paused, as I just happened to be at a bridge where I had my last opportunity to escape the tow-path before the closure. Poring over the map and aerial images whilst Mick explored, I suggested that maybe he could try the pub car park, and sure enough, there were some steps onto the tow-path. That was a relief - I wouldn't have relished a detour around on roads.

Soon after Mick met me, he pointed across the canal and said that Bertie was but 100m away, on the other side of the water. Having not a packraft with us, and with no convenient passing boat to beg a lift across from, we walked the long way around.  

Leaving Bednall, this turned out to be the tamest patch of nettles on my route today, but being so early on, it didn't bode well. 

Deer. Not farmed, just loitering here en-masse.

Thankfully the walkway was sound, it was just the railings that were slouching

 

If you're going to have a park home around here, then I can't fault this for a location. 

I bet no one has walked via that 'public footpath' fingerpost for quite some time.

At least the line of the footpath was obvious in this field. 

My route goes straight on. This area was choked with Himalayan balsam, laced with brambles and nettles, giving slow progress for a couple of hundred metres. 

Path

Path

That's better

Where boat hulls go to die