Ski Club of Manchester Spring Walk Report — Sunday, 10th April 2022, Offa’s Dyke and Moel Arthur

Leader: Bernard Kassell

Reporter: Helen Richardson

“Well, — who was Offa anyway?” I asked myself as we climbed an uphill stretch of Bernard’s delightful walk, and “Well, whoever he was, he’s got a lot to answer for!” — was the reply in my head as we kept on upwards!

Seriously, though, what a great walk! Nine of us plus Jim, Freddie and Foster met about eight miles west of Mold, in a small car park, just below and to the south of Moel Arthur, (Arthur’s Hill), with its iron age hillfort. To get there, we had driven along a narrow road, where pheasants wandered in a rather dopey manner, and raptors swooped for prey.

Moel Arthur (460m) is one of several summits topped by remains of an iron age hillfort along the heather-clad Clwydian range. The forts were built around 2,500 years ago, as defences for people’s homes and livestock. Now they are identifiable on the ground only as deep ditches and steep embankments, though it’s likely the banks were originally fortified on top by structures such as wooden fences. Wikipedia tells me that Moel Arthur hillfort bounds an oval- shaped area 160 metres N-S, and 140 metres E-W, covering about 4.4 acres (about 1.8 Hectare). Challengingly, for walkers heading to the top, there is a double line of earthworks where the hill slopes more gently (on its northern flank), and, although there is only a single line to the west, south and east sides, these are where the hill is steeper. So, every direction has its ‘ups and downs’ (literally, as well as metaphorically!).

Bernard led us clockwise around the route, beginning westward along a quiet road. We soon turned northward onto a very pleasant track skirting sparse woodland to our left. The track followed generally around the contour, but had a slight downward slope, making the going easy. Soon it was time for refreshments, sitting beside the path with a good view westward. Here, Chris (Fildes) handed around very delicious walnut cake — “Thank you, Chris, — very much appreciated!”

The going remained easy underfoot, making it pleasant to chat as we strolled along. Suddenly, at a junction of several tracks, our direction changed abruptly south-eastwards, as we joined Offa’s Dyke Path. It was at this point that our route’s uphill section began, but, as the path continued wide, grassy, easy to follow and pleasantly springy underfoot, chatting alongside walking remained the order of the morning. By this time, the sun was shining, and we were enjoying much better weather than had been forecast. Jackets were removed, and sunhats remained firmly on our heads. We made good progress along the broad ridge. All along here, we had a clear view of the rounded summit of Moel Famau to the south, readily identifiable by the strange conical structure on top. At 515 metres, this, the Mother mountain, is the highest of the Clwydian range. Its summit tower was built to commemorate the Golden Jubilee of George III in 1810, but was never completed. It was partially demolished for safety reasons following storm-damage in 1862, and now only the base is left (though this is a Grade II listed building). An ‘advance party’ (those who had ‘strayed’ ahead of the leader) seemed at risk of getting to the end of the route before a lunch break, so Bernard ran to catch them up and asked everyone to stop at the summit of Penycloddiau (440m), the site of another iron age fort, which additionally has a bronze age burial mound — with a rather 21st century inscription identifying it.

Close by the summit, we sat in a hollow out of the wind to enjoy our lunches, which were generously supplemented with Eccles cakes from Steve — “Many thanks, Steve – just the fortification we needed to prime us for the ascent ahead!”.

From the vantage point of Penycloddiau, (Hill of the trenches), giving wonderful views in all directions, the path followed downhill close to the edge of woodland, Coed LLangwyfan, toward another car park, where an information board warned of the disastrous effects for Japanese larch of the disease ‘Phytophthora ramorum’, and its potential consequences in that area where hundreds of trees were due for felling if infected. This viral disease is prevalent in many locations, including, as I’ve noted on a couple of my recent walks, on the Dales Way, near Bowness-on- Windermere, where a substantial number have been felled already, as well as in Macclesfield Forest, where, according to the online publication ‘CheshireLive’, as many as 10% of larch may need to be felled — although the report points out that larches don’t support biodiversity as much as native trees do.

The official path of Offa’s Dyke skirts around Moel Arthur summit, but most of us took advantage of being so close, to walk to its top, - only to be disappointed that there is nothing of note to see there, not even a trig point. From there, it was a very steep but short descent back to the car park. Our walk event culminated in a visit for tea a few miles away at ‘The Pet Cemetery’ near Brynford, Holywell, where the cakes and limitless pots of tea have to be seen and tasted to be believed. What a great way to end such an enjoyable walk!

And so, back to Offa: he was a powerful 8th Century Anglo-Saxon king of Mercia for almost forty years. By all accounts, Offa was a controversial chap, who had various run-ins with the Church, — including with both the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Worcester. Offa was frequently in conflict with Welsh kingdoms too, and is associated with the great earthworks between Wales and England that bears his name (perhaps Trump took his cue from Offa? — or maybe it was from Hadrian?).

Offa’s Dyke extends for about 64 miles, roughly following parts of the England-Wales border, from near LLanfynydd, less than 5 miles from Wales’ north coast, to Rushock Hill, in Herefordshire, less than 50 miles from the Bristol Channel. Not only was it a barrier, the soil displaced by the ditch was piled up to form a high bank on the east side providing an open view into Wales. To put Offa’s Dyke into a timeline perspective, it may be noted that the iron age hillforts had already been built on those summits around a millennium earlier.

It remains only for me to thank Bernard, on behalf of all of us on the walk, for a great day out.

“Thank you, Bernard — your walk has inspired me to re-visit the area, to explore more of the hills and forts and to learn more about their history”.