“it is a highlight well worth the climb”
I can almost see The Wrekin from my bedroom window but there is a tree in the way. I’ve been able to see its sharp profile from most of this week’s walk, now all I have to do is climb up it. The T50 goes below it with an option to backtrack up to the summit and then reverse the last section – a strange way of doing it. I plan to walk to the far end and then climb up and over with no messing about.
The first mile or so, on a little lane, is all downhill, not the best of starts. The day is more pleasant than of late with a refreshing breeze. Along the way The Wrekin is visible with its nobbly bits obvious.
I pass the junction where The T50 goes off and walk on, hoping there is a right of way along my planned route. I arrive at the forest drive and find there is a permissive way. Not by the scout camp but close to it. The estate’s map, which shows the permissive paths clearly. is upside down, which is strange.
The climbing begins gradually and then levels out going from deciduous to fir trees. There are distant views south with the shapely Caer Caradoc prominent.
I join the Shropshire Way to go steeply up the western nose of the hill. It is steep and slippery, but I just plod on. The secret is not to get out of breath. A little zigzagging helps. Runners pass me easily, but there are no others coming this way.
First, you reach a volcanic rocky outcrop, where you can pretend you are on Striding Edge for a while.
A good spot to sit and take in the views south to the other Shropshire hills and distant Wales. Down below to the east is Telford and its satellite villages where I’ve been walking for the last few days. I’m glad I stopped here for the views rather than up at the top, as you shall see.
Up ahead I can see lots of people at the summit trigpoint, 407m, mainly taking selfies of their achievement. I arrive to find one man leaning on the trig point, talking loudly to his wife on his mobile when others wanted to reach the trig, especially as the base is a work of art. He carries on for over 10 mins, oblivious to anyone else. There is also toposcope to identify distant hills etc, but it is being trampled all over by a trio taking pictures, no doubt to share on Instagram. A right circus, or perhaps I’m being petty. What else do you expect on a popular hill in the summer holidays? I make a quick exit as hordes more are arriving.
There is a board explaining the hillfort up here, but as usual for me, I fail to make out much on the ground. Could this be a hut circle?
In my rush to get off I didn’t thread the needle’s eye. The way up for most has actually been concreted at some time, a final degradation of a hill, they are wrecking the Wrekin.
In the woods, lower down peace returns. I stop and sit for a while and admire the beech trees.
Lower still is the Halfway House, a café where I enjoy a coffee in their garden. A nice surprise. I don’t know where everyone parks their cars but is it really halfway? I am told the café has just been taken over by a charity helping ex-offenders, Yellow Ribbon, well done.
Thankfully, the T50 takes a different route to most, and I don’t see anyone else for a long time. What a beautiful stretch of mature forest. Even a fallen tree is showing signs of life again.
A short stretch around a reservoir, and I come onto a minor road. Just as I am about to dive back into the woods, I spot up ahead a hotel serving coffee. I go one better than that and enjoy a well presented serving of tuna and cucumber sandwiches, all in the luxury of their lounge bar. My downloaded map tells me I’m off course!
Back on course, I enter Ercall Woods. An old quarry is seen high up with volcanic overlaid with sedimentary rock, dating from when animal life had begun to change to a having a skeleton, 500 million years ago.
Beautiful beech trees give way to sessile oak higher up.
I am not sure which little path goes where, but I reach the fence overlooking that quarry, and that is as high as you can get, The Ercall, 265m. What a contrast to the Wrekin seen across the way.
Coming down I just wander at will, enjoying the peace and quiet, especially after my Wrekin experience. The greenery continues almost into Wellington down below. I’m jolted back to reality by the sound of the motorway, which I duck under.
I come out on Holyhead Road, Watling Street, not far from my B&B, but there across the road is the Wickets public house, time for a refreshing pale ale to replace all that sweat.
My lodgings are reassuringly old fashioned. A shared bathroom down the corridor, mix and match furniture, and electric extension cables all over the floor, all looked after by a delightful lady in her latter years. When did you last have a chocolate marshmallow or chocolate finger?
In the morning I will walk the north Wellington loop before catching the train home.
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