|
[minstead] |
Say what you like about sacred alignments in the UK countryside, a pair of banks running in close parallel across miles of the Dorset countryside has to have been constructed for some important reason.
Even if we have no real idea what that reason was. It's called a cursus: there are others in the area, including a famous one which leads to Stonehenge. This one in east Dorset, somewhat imaginatively named "The Dorset Cursus", was enormous. It passes some really good tumuli and barrows and bits of it make nice walking.
As far as "Old Straight Tracks" go, however, this one fails utterly. It's in two pieces which are at an angle to each other and at least one of the most famous earthworks in the area is nowhere near it. Paul Deveraux' book, "The Old Straight Tracks of Dorset" (Thornhill, 0-946--328-41-2) documents it as two separate walks. I whole-heartedly recommend the book, but fans of Mike Powers' or Anne-Marie Edwards' books on Tea-shop, Pub and other themed walks will, however, find Paul's "walks" a little different. It's refreshing to find a book that is set up for public transport users: we have several in our collection which absolutely require a car and one which appears to have been written in order to sell off-road vehicles. It's great to find one with decent maps: in addition to a decent two-and-a-half inch map, or whatever that is in new money, I've had to learn to use a GPS Receiver for some of the "easy lunch-time walks".
For Paul, and his co-author Laurence Main, a walk is a walk. Their description of the Cursus comes in two halves, one of seven miles and one of twelve. Seven miles doesn't deter me too much, although the first half of the shorter walk left me feeling as if I was on an escape and evasion exercise. In reality, though, the walk as described is, for many people, two days' effort. And parts of this walk are poor value for the effort unless you're really into field archæology. There's no pub and nowhere to buy food or water, so come prepared. So, what to do? I won't call this "de-bugging" the walk, which works fine as documented, but if you only have an afternoon, here are a few ideas.
For me, the high points of the northern section, the shorter walk, are the terminal point of the cursus and the walk along the Ackling dyke. The book suggests parking by Pentridge church, or using the bus and getting off at the stop on the A354 by the road signed Pentridge. There are a couple of problems getting here: for starters, the stretch from the A354 to Pentridge is punishing on foot and sump-grinding by car. Then, the church is well-hidden in a side-road off to the west. There is, as they rightly imply, no real parking space in the village. It's pretty hard to find the route south out of Pentridge unless you're a competent map-reader: we had three tries even armed with my Garmin GPS. I'd recommend, instead, starting from where the book says to finish. There's a bus stop, and about 100 yards down the road is off-road parking by the well-signposted footpath along the Roman road.
First, walk down to where the road cuts through the cursus. This gives you a pretty good idea of what it looked like (spectacular) and makes it easier to spot traces where it's been ploughed up. The view from the gate, across private land also allows you to see the culvert, which is the destination of a right of way approaching from the left (you can just make it out in the picture: it's in the middle of what was the cursus. Store this information for later: you may find you need it. The walk along the dyke is fun and the Roman road is well defined: it's easy to see what's happening. It's easy to follow in this direction and, as advertised, passes some pretty spectacular tumuli and barrows. A whole field of them, with sheep thrown in for good measure.
Long Barrow, tumuli and sheep from the Ackling Dyke
Except. Well, the footpath along the dyke has stiles provided in parallel with the field gates, which are wired shut. And, from the stiles, you can't see the waymarker that takes you along the plantation edge to the culvert. This is a shame, because, frankly, that's the only place where you can get an impression of what must have been: a huge processional way, which, I feel, must have had some ceremonial significance. Nonetheless, the path is there and is signposted, if you know to look for it. Walk up to the culvert and on both sides of you the remains of the cursus are visible. Now you can walk up to Pentridge, and beyond, if you wish, to the northern terminal of this section of the cursus. The path in this direction is quite clear, although at least one local landowner would apparently prefer that it passed further away from their house. Beyond Pentridge the route is mainly on quiet roads and well marked bridlepaths. Having walked the route in one direction, finding the way back is much simpler.
Tackling the southern portion of the cursus is a little more problematic. The whole walk as described is twelve miles, some of it on busy roads. The footpath section is about a ten mile out-and-back trip, either starting from the cursus and going to Knowlton Church, or vice versa. But in truth, the most interesting parts of the cursus itself can be seen more easily.
By bus, start as advertised at Cashmoor. Although Paul suggests that parking there can be achieved "with a little ingenuity" I'd suggest not getting too ingenious. Instead, by car, park in Gussage St Michael: don't bother at the church: from the south-west, ignore the Long Crichel turning and you'll find a long back lane. From Gussage, the signed route to Cashmoor is the same one the book suggests walking in the other direction. Walk to the cursus and then detour up to Gussage Down.
Now it starts to get problematical. So far, we've seen earthworks and the place where the cursus was, but unless the time is right, not even crop marks are visible. The south terminal and its associated barrows and tumuli are impressive, but difficult to reach safely.
Long Barrow at the Southern Terminal of the Cursus
The easiest way is from Gussage St Michael, but take care. Paul and/or his co-author are significantly braver than I am. The road up the hill is fine, but after you turn right the road from to the A345 is busy and has no pedestrian paths. I respectfully suggest that this is not a route for small children, infirm people or bad visibility. Make every effort to get back before dusk. I suspect, from the state of the hedge at the corner, that local folks use the field boundary as an unofficial footpath, but I've never felt good about that: consider coming back another time instead. The result is rewarding, though.
Knowlton Church is a straight choice. Either walk the suggested route from Gussage down, or use a car. It's just not feasible any other way, and remember that on foot you have to get back to a bus-stop, so your route isn't just the five miles to get there. When you do get there, this is certainly the high point of the trip. Indeed, as a cynic, I'd suggest that if you have a car and only pick one thing out of the list, ignore the cursus entirely and go for the church. It's a large set of earthworks: the obvious ones are the inner ring, the outer is actually cut by the road. Inside are a ruined church in the centre and some very old Yew trees (I'm no expert but the Sacred Land project suggests 2,500 to 3,500 years old). This is clearly a very ancient worship site. And beautiful it is too, a place of great peace and a fitting end.