Gad undercliff

 

Gad Cliffs is a striking section of cliff on the Jurassic coast. A 150 year old layer of Portland Limestone capping steep scree slopes of Portland sand and shale between Kimmeridge Bay and Worbarrow Bay.  The undercliff is a particularly rugged piece of terrain, and I'm not certain if it's strictly open to the public, so wouldn't advise  it. It's certainly a wild piece of the coast. 

Gad Cliff

Gad Cliff from Worbarrow Tout. The coastline below Gad Cliff is permenantly off limits, never accessible to the public, and even if it was I don't imagine anyone beyond the most determined walkers would entertain it; it's a challenging landscape of slips, scree, sucking mud and irregular boulders, with only animal tracks available to you as passage. A properly wild stretch of the Jurassic coast.   

Purbeck

Back to the Isle of Purbeck this morning, an early-ish start too, as the day had the potential to deteriorate...which it did, a bit.  It was another bright spring day to start, although a thin misty haze hung in the air and clouds could be seen gathering sneakily on the horizon...I see you cloud! Again we parked below the castle and set off along the footpath running along the base of the Knowle Hill, between the rough grassland and gorse of the hills and a matrix of hedged fields and small pockets of ancient woodland that define the Corfe Valley. Our path rose briefly as it transferred from Knowle Hill and Ridgeway Hill at bare Cross, affording us vistas along the Valley. They were short lived though as we soon descended again into the fields of the Corfe Valley, crossing it's titular river before rising up past Hyde Wood to the ridge above Kimmeridge, with stunning views of the Kimmeridge Bowl and along it's western arm...our direction of travel. We passed fields of bright yellow rapeseed which shone like gold, so vibrant. The western arm of the Kimmeridge Bowl is a favourite walk, views into the bowl and out to sea on one side, and into the Tyneham Valley on the other, really lovely. Out here it's hard to imagine you're so close the expansive BCP conurbation. A couple of miles undulating path and we reached the extent of our outward walk, Tyneham Cap and Townley Shenton's Seat with the most stunning view over Gad Cliffs and Worbarrow Bay towards Weymouth and the Isle of Portland. In Weymouth Bay you could see the cruise liners still hunkered down at anchor due to covid. We sat a while to take it all in before beginning our journey back. Another lovely walk, 11.7 miles. I don't mind walking alone, you can really connect and absorb, which I enjoy deeply, though it would be nice to sometimes share these walks again with others.

By gads it's Tyneham Cap

Another early start over to Purbeck this morning, this time though Bel was having none of it and remained hidden beyond the cloud, the coastline was shrouded in sea mists too, lending this magnificent rugged landscape an eerie air. This mornings walk was westwards along the ridge of the Kimmeridge Bowl out to Tyneham Cap and Townley Shenton's Seat...and as always the views were stunning. On reaching Tyneham Cap I was surprised (and a touch dismayed) to find Townley Shenton's Seat missing! I don't know what that's about, though I hope it returns as it's become a bit of a landmark for me, a place to sit and take the views that Townley so much enjoyed. I didn't know Townley, although I know he loved these views, the views he hoped we'd enjoy too (I know that because it said so on the memorial plaque on the afore mentioned missing seat). As always fabulous walking.

Kimmeridge

Although the sky was a clear blue and the young sun shone brightly over Kimmeridge Bay, still on the surrounding hillsides and in the valley and hollows beyond, snow clung on. It was a great day for walking, the air was crisp and clean, and there were few people about. I was expecting to walk out around the Kimmeridge bowl to Townley Shenton's seat, though I found the range gates locked when they shouldn't have been. I don't know what that was about. So, anyway, instead I took the cliff top east towards the base of Swyre Head. Man, the cliff top path along here feels sketchy walking at best, it's very narrow, and slightly slopes towards a high sheer drop, add mud and ice and it was terrifying at times.  Some way along the path, over the fence in a field, is an abandoned military observation post, which at one time clearly had other features associated with it, now long gone, with only mounts and rubble remaining. I stopped for a while, the views through the posts small embrasures along the coast in both directions were fantastic. It must have been a nice posting in the summer, though I'd imagine bleak and foreboding in bad weather, or the depths of winter. Back on the scary cliff top the path rose and fell, with several little foot bridges crossing narrow gullies through which water raced before cascading off the cliff. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, my route turned inland, away from the frightening cliff path and I could relax. I don't know why take routes that scare me so, maybe it's a to challenge my fears, or maybe I'm just a fool. I walked back through the valley below the snow capped ridge which makes up the eastern length of the Kimmeridge bowl, before climbing back up to quarry overlooking Kimmeridge. As you can imagine, if the snow endured on all the sunny southern faces of the Purbeck Hills, the predominantly north facing slopes of the Purbeck Ridge remained firmly under winters snowy embrace. The roads over the ridge at Grange Hill and Cocknowle were both glazed and treacherous driving, as I found out descending from Cocknowle, I thought I'd be through the fence at one point.  Another memorable day at the coast.

Worbarrow Bay

Taking the opportunity of the Lulworth ranges being open over the Christmas period, we set off early for Purbeck, and on arrival we found the quarry above Kimmeridge already filling with cars. Our mission today was Worbarrow Bay again, though approached from a different direction affording us different views. The ridge above Kimmeridge is always a lovely walk, allowing aspects over Kimmeridge bowl, across the Tyneham and Corfe Valleys and in both directions along the coast, with a fantastic pay off upon reaching Tyneham Cap and Townley Shenton's seat.  From there we made our way along the top of the towering Gad Cliffs, and down the slippery hillside to Worbarrow Bay. It had been a while since we'd walked around the pebbly shore of the bay, it's a walk to to nowhere, as the beach abruptly ends at Cow Corner and the chalk cliffs which lead round to Arish Mell. Although it's December, the warm sun and inviting chalk hued seas looked inviting, though I'm certain that deception would be quickly seen through if we'd taken the plunge. The last time we walked this way the beach was clear, a long sweeping curve of graded pebbles, today though though the beach is truncated by a massive landslide from Flowers Barrow Hill. Large boulders now need negotiating if you're to get to the bays far end. We decided to return over the landslide, climbing to emerge about half way up the hill. There may have been huge boulders on the foreshore, though behind them the chalk is cherty and gritty, and appears as if shattered into irregular, though rough similar sized, pieces. The scar of the slide is massive and imposing, the land surface scoured of vegetation, it's alien in aspect and eerie to walk, possibly added to by the air of danger. When we emerged out onto the hillside I admit to being relieved, though was happy to seen immensity of scar first hand.  It's easy to think of this rocky coast as a static thing, although in recent years in particularly that view has been challenged in light of the numerous and often immense slides and the changes they bring.  We walked back up through the Tyneham Valley to the quarry, a good walk on a lovely day.    

Kimmeridge ledges

The tide was out, at it's lowest for the day, although about to turn, when I arrived at Kimmeridge. I'd parked up in the old quarry above the village, about a mile from the coast with it's fantastic views over this scoop in the Purbeck hills, and it's free.  I walked through the village with its impressive new fossils museum and along the edges of the sticky fields down to the sea. I say the tide was out, it was by no means as out as it can be, though still allowed for access along the under-cliff east of the bay. Care needs to taken when walking here, the tide can come in faster than you'd imagine, it's difficult going and there's no access off the under-cliff at the Egmont end; that's a 3 mile plus race against the tide if you get your timing wrong. The rising tide will also cause you to walk closer to the cliff base, not a good idea, throughout my time on the under-cliff the sound of falling debris was near constant. I bottled it knowing the tide was on the turn, and only went as far as Clavell's Hard, about a third of the way along. When the tide is proper out, you can walk out some distance on the ledges here, and you're afforded fabulous views of the coast. For example, the top photo shows the coast westwards, with the magnificent Gad Cliffs in the middle distance. The Gad under-cliff has always held a magical attraction to me, as it's never open to the public and so still wild; I walked there for the first time last year, it's forbidding terrain, no paths, just slides, rocks and prickly thicket. The Kimmeridge under-cliff is very different, flat ledges like patterned rock pavements, and the remains of other broken flat ledges are interspersed with pebble and shale scree beach.  Fossils are common on the foreshore, most easily spotted are the familiar shapes of Ammonites. There's so much to see, Kimmeridge is within the Purbeck Marine Wildlife Reserve, the rock pools and rock ledges are teeming with life. It's also a well known surf spot too, and there were plenty of surfers, catching some nice looking waves. What a beautiful day.

Gad under-cliff

Here's a few images which aren't of the Gad under-cliffe landscape, but of some of the things found there, both natural and man made.  

No shit, Sherlock! I saw three of these signs in a various states of decay, this was the best preserved of them, a testament to the truth of their message.

The only piece of ordinance I saw today.

A couple of the numerous Ammonite fossils to be seen amongst the under-cliff rocks. Well, it is the Jurassic Coast after all.  These were about 40cm or so in diameter.

By Gads!

By Gads! The cliffs, that is. The stretch of coast under Gad cliffs is always off limits to the public because, I think, it's part of the Lulworth range overshoot  and probably hard to clear of any potentially dangerous ordinance, another reason maybe is that the land is steep, rugged, susceptible to landslides and has no discernible paths and so would represent difficult access anyway. Whatever, it's land less trodden, for sure. Until last year, in all my years of regular walking the Jurassic Coast, I'd never walked there, looked longingly from afar, but never walked there. I made a second foray into forbidden walking today, and managed to walk and scramble the entire length of the under-cliff. And it was marvellous. I imagine being out along this piece of coast during a storm would be a terrifying as it would dangerous, the rocky foreshore of jagged boulders is treacherous and the under-cliff unwelcoming so say the least, and that wouldn't be so marvellous. Though with the sun shining and a gentle sea lapping the rocks it's blissful. It's a real escape from the the more familiar, more human landscapes we find ourselves in; no matter how wild we think the places we walk are, more often than not they're the result of years of human activity and exploitation, and would have looked quite different in their 'natural' state. This piece of earth hasn't been altered by human activity (to my knowledge) With no tracks (beyond deer tracks), and what with the terrain being so rugged, you get a real sense of being in wilderness. I don't think the smile left my face throughout the walk, so many groovy things to see, so many different unfamiliar views of a familiar landscape. Not a long walk, although a taxing one, and one on which you have to keep your wits about you, wilderness is dangerous.