Shropshire

Walk Details:
Date: 3/2/2007
Total ascent: 224m/ 735ft
Total distance walked: 3.5 miles
Walk difficulty: 3.5/10
Enjoyment rating: 6.5/10
Walkers: Anth, Jim, Jus & Cat
Car Parking: We parked at the “picnic site” at SO 607 873

Top details:
Name: Brown Clee Hill
County top number: 143 of 205
Marilyn number: 43 of 1554
Grid reference: SO 59364 86552
Height above sea level: 540m/ 1,772ft
How nice was the top? 5/10
Views: 7/10
Description/Notes: The highest point in Shropshire is marked by a topograph. It’s also a marilyn.

The Walk:

Jus and Cat had said they might join us at some point today, but we didn’t really expect them and hadn’t arranged any particular rendezvous point or time. We were rather astonished, therefore, when they called to say they were in Ludlow. We were even more astonished (bearing in mind their past navigational discrepancies) when they met us at the “picnic site” at the base of Brown Clee Hill a short while later. I use the speech marks here for the picnic site marked on the OS maps is nothing more than a grassy roadside parking strip – don’t expect picnic tables, ice cream vans or any of the other paraphernalia that you would think the symbol might imply.

We set off up a path opposite signposted “Woodland Walk” which wound a pleasant course up through a grassy paddock before plunging into deepest darkest ForestryCommissionLandTM. Now I’m no fan whatsoever of ForestryCommissionLandTM. It tends to involve wide, muddy tracks, depressing conifer plantations and a lot of “Keep Out” signs. Here on Brown Clee Hill it ran true to form. However, we were so busy chatting to Jus & Cat and trying to make them jealous of the cloud inversion they’d missed on the Wrekin that we completely missed the turning for the path to the top. It was some time before I spotted our error; instead of retracing our steps we decided to instead take the next forestry commission track up the hill instead.

We turned right near a beautiful, mirror-calm pool, (un-named on the map) and headed gently upwards on a narrow track. It was a relief to emerge from the dense forest at about the 450-metre mark, and rejoin the path we should have been on in the first place. This presented a slightly stiffer ascent than the track, but it was still a pretty easy stroll to the top. From here we could still see the tattered remnants of the cloud inversion we’d seen on the Wrekin; we were glad we’d got up early and seen it at its full glory.

The summit of Brown Clee Hill has been extensively altered by human activity. Many of the humps and bumps on the summit are undoubtedly parts of the iron-age hill fort of Abdon Burf. However, the activity that has changed this hill beyond all recognition is quarrying. A ruined building to the right of the path was undoubtedly linked to this. The entire hilltop is pitted with depressions (and linked spoil heaps) from which miners extracted the very hard dhustone, used mainly for roadbuilding. Most of these depressions were now filled with water (today frozen over, but not thickly enough to walk on), presenting a surreal post-industrial landscape.

The latest phase of human activity was the sadly inevitable radio masts (two “parents” and a baby one). Just to the left of these was the summit topograph, and it was an easy stroll to it up the radio mast servicing road. The topograph looked brand new, and had some rather posh steps leading up to it. Given that there was no separate trig point, we assumed that (as we’d seen occasionally on other hills) the topograph had simply been built onto the top of the trig. But no – to our shock and horror the trig had actually been broken up and used in the topograph construction. The metal plate and theodolite stand had been set into the steps. We felt this to be wanton vandalism by the Rotary Club responsible. Although the topograph was very nice to have, surely they could have left the trig standing and built the topograph nearby? Another little bit of our national heritage whittled away – Mr Blair will be proud of them.

The topograph did point out the Long Mynd and the shapely Caer Caradoc, and also (as is normal in these things) some things far too distant to see. But I did feel that with an ugly radio mast and no trig point, what could have been an unusual and special hilltop had been ruined for me. But in the glorious late winter sunshine it was difficult to stay annoyed for long, and Jus & Cat were revelling in their first hill of the year.

I had originally planned for us to walk up the Five Springs, further along the hill and complete a decent circular walk. In view of our wrong turn on the way up, combined with a wish to fit in a good walk on the Long Mynd, we decided to head back via the route we should have ascended by. Fortunately this was just steep and slippery enough for tall thin Justin’s high centre of gravity to struggle with, which provided us with some amusement on the way down. Further amusement was supplied by a cyclist, whizzing downhill with a small yappy-type dog in hot pursuit. I suggested that he should get a bigger dog and then he could use it to pull him uphill. The cyclist responded by saying that his dog used to be an alsation and had been worn down to that size by his constant cycle trips!

Back at the cars we were all united in our belief that the Shropshire Hills were splendid beasts; we couldn’t wait for our rendezvous with the Long Mynd.