Turner’s Hill – 269m / 883ft – 09/03/20
I drove from rural Shropshire towards the heart of the Black Country, an area of past life memories and place names I knew well – traffic flows increased and before long I was moving patiently in midday congestion towards my planned start point, a small area of natural parkland at Saltwells, in the middle of a built up housing area. The car park was fairly busy with dog walkers so I made sure to leave as much gear out of sight, locked up and fingers crossed!!. Having eaten some lunch on the go, I was quickly into my boots and out of the car – despite the rain imminent I decided not to go with the waterproof overtrousers (living on the edge, eh?) and set off, firstly north on a track in the woodland which brought me out at the Dudley Canal towpath which I followed eastwards for almost 2 miles before heading upwards across fields to the hill I could see marked with a TV mast on the horizon.
The canal passed through a mixture of industrial sites and residential areas with houses right by the canalside. I passed one or two locals with dogs and numerous Canada geese who were nesting and/or conducting courtships on the grassy banks and spoke to one or two people evidently living in canal boats moored up on the far side.
I was walking with the wind behind me, which was starting to get colder but the rain still did not arrive – I was not looking forward to the return journey back to the car… I passed a canal junction and a large turning area, there were numerous plaques and information boards describing the area’s industrial past, traditional tradesmen and ways of life. I left the canal just before it entered a long tunnel by an old mill or pumping station – at this point the lack of buildings around reminded me that I was right in the heart of Peaky Blinders territory so I decided not to hang around!! I headed off across a couple of fields towards a housing estate, crossed a main road and then started on an uphill track which eventually led to Dudley Golf course. Despite the sodden ground and the cold, windy weather there were one or two hardened amateurs out on the course. I found my way through a few fairways to the clubhouse at the top of the hill then along a short track to the official “summit”. It became clear as I approached that I would not be able to get into the compound enclosing the TV tower so I found the highest point on my OS app, filmed the obligatory video and considered whether to return by the same route or look for a quicker way back down to the canal.
I settled for a more direct path which bordered the southern edge of the golf course, but would take me through more of a residential area back to the canal. No sooner had I turned into the wind and started to go back downhill when the rain arrived.
It had been promised and here it was, in my face all the way back to the car – I picked my way along a narrow path through the scrub off the course when I should have just gone straight down the middle of the fairway, but I would not want some random idiot hiker slipping, sliding and trampling across my golf course so I stuck to my principles. I was starting to get very wet now as I reached the housing area and found my way through a couple of littered alleyways back to the canal. I had my waterproof jacket but the decision to go without the overtrousers came back to haunt me as my normal walking trousers got saturated and stuck to my legs like a neoprene suit. I joined the canal on the spur which took me back to the junction I had passed earlier and turned back into the wind and rain for the last half hour or so. When you’re wet, you are only wet and cannot get much wetter, so best enjoy it while it lasts and look forward to getting dry, although I would have to improvise somehow with only the car at my disposal. I passed the barges from earlier (strangely nobody to be seen).
It was just a case of keeping the head down into the weather and as I left the canal path and entered the woods I was sheltered from the wind and the rain began to abate, in fact by the time I reached the car it had pretty much stopped. Well this was not a walk I had really been looking forward to, it could have been worse but also a lot better – any way County Top number 9 ticked off, wet trousers laid out to dry in the back of the car and off en route to my next stop – Warwickshire.
