MY WAY AROUND – ROACH END TO TEGGS NOSE

It was a coat on, coat off kind of day for this walk when Nellie and I went inland a bit from the official boundary walk route because I didn’t fancy the sound of Nettlebeds or Greasley Hollow.

We’ve now walked from Derbyshire to Staffordshire and into Cheshire.

Leaving Roach End we descended south from a bend in the road before turning right along a grassy path and over a field to Clough Head where we met the top of a lane above Buxton Brow. This quiet road only leads to isolated properties and is a lovely walk from high moors into the valley below. At times tree-lined and in parts hollowed away, its finale is through Hilly Lees, a fabulous old property with beautifully restored outbuildings.

A right at the junction took us past an entrance lodge to Swythamley Hall, followed by the former church built in 1905 on the instruction of Lady Annie Brocklehurst as a memorial to her husband Sir Philip Brocklehurst a year after his death. It is now converted into residential use.

We headed roadside to Danebridge which acts as the county border. This is an important crossing place, believed to date back almost a thousand years as an ancient route between Leek and. Macclesfield. There are also records of a corn and paper mill here dating back to 1652. The site evolved into a cotton mill (1784), a silk spinning mill (1850), and a black dye mill (1870) before becoming derelict in the late 19th century.

It was tempting to call at the sample room of Wincle Brewery but with a few miles left to my car, I didn’t think it wise to down a pint of Wibbly Wallaby, although now I’m retired, to sup some Life of Riley might have been more appropriate!

We wandered uphill past the Ship Inn, an unusual name for a hostelry in landlocked Staffordshire, then crossed a couple of fields and some woodland to reach a narrow lane leading up to high ground. Where it levelled out there was an old mere no doubt full of frog spawn, toads and newts. Last year’s bulrushes spiked up like dried out rockets whilst new shoots were appearing on flag iris.

I then experienced a high of historic euphoria as Nellie and I ventured along past Winkle Grange, thought to date back in parts to the 13th century. It simply oozed character and charm. We then ambled along, admiring distant views and listening to curlew and skylark, to meet the Wincle Road. This was followed by some field and stile hiking through pasture before emerging onto the A54 in front of the Wild Boar Inn which is temporarily closed.

A footpath from here led us down through Hammerton Knowl Farm where we picked up the lane to Wildboarclough, walking beside Clough Brook down to our right in a sheltered valley where pheasants wandered willy-nilly.

I then had the bright idea to scale the dizzy heights of Shutlingsloe, known as the Cheshire Matterhorn, so we headed up a steep private road toward Banktop like ‘Shutlingsloe base camp’ on the edge of the moors. The summit didn’t look far away and there was a well-walked path approaching it that didn’t look that challenging. How wrong I was as I huffed, puffed and we both scrambled to the top. What a reward though! There were far reaching views in every direction. Piggford Moor and High Moor looked bleak and foreboding, but being devoid of paths they must be a sanctuary for wildlife.

The descent from this mini mountain was even worse with a choice of sloping stone slabs and rocky steps or steep grassy bank. The latter would have been an embarrassing bum-shuffle down. I was happy to reach level ground again!

Nellie and I then followed a paved causeway to the edge of Macclesfield Forest, a delight of densely wooded slopes intersected by paths, tracks and cycling routes. Following these routes we made our way to Clough House for a sting in the tail as the finale to this fabulous walk was a steep ascent to Teggs Nose car park. Slow going for 6 tired legs!

Sally Mosley

FOOTNOTE BY NELLIE: Spring has sprung so most livestock that overwintered in barns have been released outdoors to graze. Me and Mum both hate walking through cattle so we have become cow pat detectorists. Dried up crusty ones are generally not a problem, but if I sniff out a sloppy fresh dollop we know a scary beast could be lurking somewhere near. Thankfully I don’t slurp the pats like I did when I was a puppy. Mum got me out of that dirty little habit. I bet you’ve just screwed your face up! Lots of love and smiles, Nellie xxx