Crossens and Hesketh Bank 23rd September 2021
We only have 2 days left to fill in the gaps in our Lancashire coastal tour. Its not all been about cycling the coast – that would be rather dull. We have spent a couple of days meeting-up with relatives for walks in the Pennines, but now it’s business as usual.
We have scrapped the intended walking day from Carnforth to Arnside, in favour of a clean sweep of coast from The Wirral to Carnforth, leaving the missing section further north for next time, when we address the Lake District. Our caravan site owner informs us that Carnforth to Arnside is the best bit of the Lancashire coast, but it will just have to wait.
Our penultimate day will therefore be spent completing the relatively short section from Crossens, just north of Southport, to Hesketh Bank. Anyone looking at the map might wonder why we are not going all the way to Preston. The answer is simple – there is no obvious cycling or walking route between Hesketh Bank and Preston, other than along busy roads further inland. In fact Crossens pretty-well marks the point at which the Irish Sea coast transforms into the Ribble Estuary. Between here and Hesketh Bank the tide washes over the vast acreage of salt marsh and mud flats typically found at the mouth of any significant river. The fast-moving Ribble carries tons of fine sediment down from the North Pennines, but when it meets the wall of water that is the Irish Sea, its speed is checked and it can no-longer transport its load. The mud flats and salt marsh are the benefactors of this muddy donation..
A public footpath follows the high tide mark between Crossens and Hesketh Bank. This would be fine if our chosen mode of transport was ‘Shanks’ Pony’, but we have elected to cycle – which is an entirely different challenge and not entirely legal.
After parking-up at Harrogate Way, we quickly locate the footpath running along the north side of ‘The Sluice’, a drain which takes most of the rainfall from this part of the Lancashire Plain out into the Irish Sea. South across ‘The Sluice’ we can see the footpath we took earlier in the week from Southport to Crossens. To our right are fields full of the rich soil of this area, derived from millennia of mud deposits from the River Ribble. Man has seized this former salt marsh from the sea, building a high earthen wall to keep things that way. The footpath follows the top of this embankment.
Crossens Pumping Station – pumps thousands of litres of Lancashire surface water into ‘The Sluice’ as the tide falls and New housing sits well below spring high tides, hopeful that the sea wall will do its job.
High overhead we hear the honking of hundreds of Canada Geese heading from their overnight roosts on the fields, to the vast areas of mud flats where they can feed at low tide. The movement of large flocks of birds is always awe-inspiring, in much the same way as when we watch formations of aeroplanes. I much prefer the former.
The soils of the area are very fertile, supporting a healthy local market gardening industry. A tractor is busy harrowing the soil in one of the fields, throwing up clouds of dust which blow some distance away. Large fields full of cabbages are reminiscent of our travels along the coasts of Norfolk, Suffolk and West Sussex, which likewise have sandy soils derived from the sea.
Row on row of market garden produce grows well in the local sandy soil, which blows easily when harrowed even when winds are light.
As we cycle north east towards the Ribble, Lytham St Annes appears grey and distant across the mix of salt marsh and mud which lie between. Out on the salt marsh cattle graze and I wonder if their meat benefits from a distinct salt marsh flavour as a result. They are not alone, with flocks of Canada and Brent Geese grazing alongside them
Grey skies, salt marsh and distant Lytham St Anne’s and Beef cattle graze the salt marsh which I gather gives it an excellent taste
One of the major drawbacks of riding a bike along a footpath as opposed to a bridleway is when you have to cross a fence-line. Footpaths invariably offer the challenge of climbing a stile with the significant weight of a bike thrown in to make life trickier. I find an alternative method for negotiating this one – there is a gap under the fence which permits me to shove the bike underneath it. At least that’s one less risk of a dislocated shoulder!
A locked gate and a stile – Hobson’s choice for the cyclist, his back and his shoulder
Returning to the local agriculture, I note that acres of fleece-like sheeting covers the brassicas in an attempt to dissuade the ubiquitous Cabbage White butterfly from laying eggs. This is an encouraging alternative to spraying with insecticide and may well indicate that these crops are intended for organic labelling in the supermarkets. I must try it on my brassicas at home, although I do have some concerns as to what happens to the fleece after use. Hopefully it can be reused and disposed of sustainably at the end of its life.
I am intrigued by numerous signs set at a height of 15 feet. On each is written:
“Private access – this crossing has been erected by and is for the use of Southport and District Wildfowlers only”.
There is no doubt that it is aimed at those of us travelling along the sea wall, or perhaps an invading army, to warn them away from treading on the farmers cabbages. He must have paid handsomely for a solicitor to phrase the warning appropriately. Most farmers just say “Keep Out”. Hopefully Southport and District Wildfowlers are suitably careful, although if you are busy having a pop at a Brent Goose you are unlikely to pay much attention to the cabbage underfoot.
Fields of brassicas, fleece and soil protected by a high profile sign.
As we make steady progress along the sea wall, my fillings rattling out of my teeth, I contemplate the possibility of this being turned into a cycleway. We have walked or cycled hundreds of miles of sea walls around the UK coast. Rarely are they designated for cycling use. What a smart idea it would be to put a decent surface on top and encourage the general public to explore the great outdoors on level, traffic-free cycleways.
As the vast fields of veg roll by I take an interest in their morphology. Each field is bounded by a ditch to drain it after significant rainfall. The ‘borrowed’ earth from the dyke (borrowdyke) forms an adjacent mound topped with trees. These trees and mound make a substantial wind break reaching some 30 to 40 metres above the field and protecting the light soil. Clever chaps these market gardeners.
Massive arable fields bordered by dykes and wind breaks
At Old Hollow Farm our path is interrupted once again by a locked gate. This is a double barrier, since the farmer has fenced a trackway for his cattle to access the salt marsh. The kissing gates provided for walkers are too narrow for the bikes, requiring us to raise them on back wheels to get them through. We are watched by a man working nearby and I half expect him to give us an earful, but happily he just expresses his admiration for our tenacity, cycling along the sea wall. Thank you kind sir!
Betty pauses to contemplate the double-kissing-gate passage (and check her lippy)
We are now approaching the end of our sea wall exploration, near Hesketh Bank. Yet another high altitude sign reminds us that we are not welcome on the adjacent fields. The salt-marsh has taken a hammering from grazing cattle, with much of the wet mud poached by their hooves.
At Hundred End Gutter we cross into the RSPB reserve at Hesketh Out Marsh. This is one of those increasingly popular projects supported by government agencies, where the Outer Bank sea wall has been breached to allow salt water back in. Instead of carrots and grazing sheep we now have the prospect of avocets, pink-footed geese, redshanks and whooper swans. The salt marsh now takes the wave energy away from the inner sea wall, negating the need for costly maintenance by the Environment Agency. ‘Negotiating’ a truce with the sea is much more sensible than a pointless and expensive war which can ultimately only have one winner. Wildlife is a major beneficiary, whilst the developing salt-marsh now sequesters away tons of carbon that would otherwise end up where we don’t want it – in the atmosphere.
RSPB Hesketh Out Marsh. The sea wall has been breached, scrapes made for wading birds to feed, whilst cattle play their part in its management.
Rather than another 400 metres of bone-jarring cycling we opt to follow Dibs Road before taking Shore Road to Hesketh Bank village. It is a profitable move since we find loads of spuds lining the side of the track, shed by a passing potato wagon. As we stuff them greedily into whatever bags and pockets that come to hand, we thank the cycling gods for providing us with provender for this evening’s supper.
Hesketh Bank provides us with an excellent Booths supermarket where we are able to purchase a pot of tea and sticky buns before the return journey back to the car. We take a slow, wandering route between acres of glass-houses full of poinsettias for the Christmas market. A closer inspection of the soil here reveals that it must have been freshwater marsh at some time in its past, containing a significant proportion of peat and giving it the natural fertility necessary for market gardening.
1) Vast areas of glass and poly-tunnels cover this entire area
2) The deep, nutrient-rich, peaty soil is ideal for large scale, mechanised market gardening
3) Flocks of geese fill the air above us, as they head out to the mud flats and salt marsh to feed at low tide