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WarringtonWalk Details: Top details: The Walk: |
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Arriving in Warrington immediately reminded me of Jasper Fforde’s book “Lost in a good book” where, due to a local government re-organisation the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland is renamed the Unitary Authority of Warrington Cat, which the cat is none to happy about. We were only visiting here as a result of that same re-organisation. Following on from my worries about parking at the Trafford top, I was pretty sure we wouldn’t be able to get to the actual highest point in Warrington. It was on top of a reservoir (which was bound to be fenced off) on a small hill in the centre of a golf course (where we’d get asked awkward questions when we tried to tried to cross). Nevertheless, we would do our best to get as close as possible. We thought we might get into trouble for parking in the golf course car park (plus, being Saturday, it was really busy), and so instead parked in a residential road directly opposite the golf course entrance. The map showed a reservoir service track going up through the golf club car park; we considered taking this but the golf club was so busy that we felt there was no chance of us making it unchallenged up this supposedly private right of way
We emerged on a track by the reservoir fence, on the eastern side of the reservoir. There was a radio mast here, and we took a photo just in case we couldn’t get any higher. However, we decided to quickly trek around the reservoir to see if there was an easy and inconspicuous way in. We quickly found that most of the fence on the northern side was lying flat on the ground – clearly security is not a big concern here! We scrambled up the steep bank of the reservoir, both aiming to be the first to espy the trig point marked on the OS map. It wasn’t there! We wandered slightly disconsolately across the top of the reservoir, and then - to our surprise - spotted a monument set on a smaller round covered reservoir nearby. We eagerly scrambled down the steep banks of the larger reservoir, only to discover that there were actually stone steps onto each reservoir. We climbed up onto the smaller reservoir, and found the trig point. We were quite surprised – this was the second top on the trot that the OS maps had been incorrect. Obviously the surveyors in these parts had been a bit careless! The monument was mainly impressive because we hadn’t expected it. On closer inspection, it was rather dilapidated; the capstone was damaged and most of the four stone lions were missing appendages. Above all, though, it was mysterious (I could find no mention of what it commemorated on the internet) and splendidly sited. Despite being in the middle of a golf course, up here on the reservoirs it felt quiet and remote. It was the views that surprised us though – despite our relatively low altitude, there were lines of white on both the eastern and western horizons that we felt must surely be snow in the peak district and on the welsh hills. Given that we would be visiting both of those this weekend we felt rather excited. We left the reservoirs via the service access I mentioned earlier – there was no real need for discretion now. It looked as if there might be a legitimate pedestrian access via a small gate next to the main gate, but it turned out to be locked. There was a golfer with his van parked next to the gate, and seeing me with GPS in one hand and paper in the other (the streetmap.co.uk print) obviously decided I was some sort of utilities official – “do you guys need to get your van out?” he asked us. I don’t know what he thought when we subsequently climbed over the gate and he got a close-up view of dirty hiking gear! It has to be said, Warrington surprisingly turned out to be a damn fine
top. We never did see that darn cat though.
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Instead we headed a few hundred metres down
the road and entered the golf course on a public right of way, which was
at first horribly muddy. This passed near the bottom of the small hill
on which the reservoir sat. The hill was shrouded in trees and so we felt
able to sneak off the path and head up the hill (more of a hillette, really),
following what was clearly quite a well-worn route.