This walk has been a long time in the planning and one I have really been looking forward to. The Sandstone Trail is a long-distance path following sandstone ridges for 55km from Frodsham in Cheshire, south to Whitchurch in Shropshire. It is described online as “… an easy, well signposted, three day family walk with a variety of terrain and wonderful views”, a claim that we hope is accurate. We have decided to walk the trail in two parts, today completing the first part of the trail, from Frodsham to Peckforton, and tomorrow the second part from Peckforton to Whitchurch.
We travelled by train to Frodsham, arriving in high spirits on a glorious sunny morning, and made our way to the start of the trail on Main Street. Immediately, the path began to climb steadily past St Lawrence’s Church and the Ring o’ Bells pub, before ascending more steeply to the top of the hill. We continued down a lane which ran alongside a golf course until we reached a T-junction. That was where we realised we had gone wrong – that didn’t take long, so much for ‘well sign-posted’. Following the advice of a local lady who had kindly stopped to help after seeing us studying our map, we retraced our steps and crossed the golf course emerging at the top of Dunsdale Hollow. We were back on track, but sadly we had missed out on the stunning views of the Mersey Estuary and Welsh hills from Overton Hill – not a good start, but it would not have been wise to backtrack when we had so much walking in front of us.
After descending the sandstone staircase and skirting the sandstone bluffs of the hollow once the wrong way and then again in the right direction, we finally arrived at Scout Rock and followed the winding path around the ruins of Woodhouse Hillfort. Finally confident that we were on the right track, we began to enjoy the ever-changing views over the Cheshire Plain, walking across wildflower meadows, down lanes and through woodland; but we had lost time and walked further than needed, something we could have done without and would come to regret.
We continued to follow the trail along narrow country lanes and across undulating fields until we reached Manley Common, and thankfully the trail was now much more obvious and the sign-posting clearer. We approached the perimeter of the vast and ancient Delamere Forest, following the woodland paths beneath the dappled shade of the trees and enjoying the mossland and the streams that frequently pooled into ponds and bogs. We decided to stop and picnic, out of the direct sun which was now quite hot, and planning to pick up drinks at the Linmere visitor centre before continuing. Feeling refreshed, we walked up to Pale Heights, marvelling at the panoramic views – eight counties can be seen from the viewing platform - before descending past the ramparts of Eddisbury Hillfort, and before we knew it we were emerging on the other side of the forest at Kelsall, having completely missed the turning to the visitor centre and our opportunity to restock.
Once out of the forest, and with the sun beating down on us, we began to realise how important that missed opportunity was, and that we would soon need more water. Unfortunately, none of the refreshment points mentioned on the website appeared, instead the trail seeming to deliberately avoid any settlements, meandering along mostly uninhabited lanes and across fields with panoramas over the Dee Valley to the Welsh Hills. The views were not our priority now though, as we were out of water, hot and thirsty. Several times we knocked on the door of private residences to beg a refill for our water bottles, and thankfully when people were in they were kind; had they not been, we could have been in real trouble. Rehydrated – and with full water bottles – we continued across the gently undulating farmland until we eventually saw the ruined medieval Beeston Castle atop its sandstone crag in the distance.
By now my feet were beginning to hurt, although my knee was holding strong. The ground was baked and getting lost at the beginning of the walk had cost us dearly in both time and energy and it was also becoming clear that the distances quoted on the guides were ‘as the crow flies’. We stopped for a short rest by a canal, watching a narrow boat traverse the lock, before carrying on across the endless fields and eventually we reached the road that circles the wooded Peckforton Hill and looked for the sign. Left or right? There were only two choices but we searched high and low and could not find a sign. We chose left. It was the wrong choice; after skirting the hill for a mile or so, a sign sent us up a very steep hill on an uneven cobbled track towards The Pheasant Inn where a welcome shower and meal was, at last, waiting for us.
We had walked at least 5 more miles than the 19miles the guide had led us to believe we would, and my feet were seriously blistered. I was hopeful that after a good night’s sleep I would be able to continue on to Whitchurch as planned but it was not to be so we will return to complete the second half of the walk another time.
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