Autumn Hike 2011

Autumn Hike Sept 9th 2011 (Office Sqwalk 74)
Nantwich and The Secret Bunker (sounds like a Harry Potter sequel)



Summary Assembled by Malc Jay, the walk started and finished in Nantwich. The walk started at 8.30 prompt from the unmade free car park off Welsh Row at the rear of the Black Lion public house. Take the turning into St Annes Lane. The day took in parts of the River Weaver, the Shropshire Union Canal and The South Cheshire Way. The proposed short bus journey back from the Bhurtpore Inn at Aston was changed to a train from Wrenbury. Total distance approx 12-13 miles, mainly flat with several stiles including breakfast and time in the Secret Bunker at Hawks Green. Lunch was served at the Bhurtpore Arms around 1.30pm. There was later the chance to visit the Woodlands beer festival at the Woodlands brewery with free shuttle buses to and from Nantwich from 5pm.
16 were eventually up for it, namely Yuppers, Malc Jay, Matt Jay, Pedro, Stubbee, Dasher, Mr Tahoohigh, Tim Mothy, Benny (Kev Benfield), Brian Edwards, Debri (Debbie Holihead), Stig (Steve B), Stand back (Steve B's Dave), Zolette, Slippery and Nige (Noel). As we gathered in the car park at 8.15 am, Bradders croaked off with a bad throat and Kev arrived a tad late after being held up by a traffic accident in Stoke. Keithee with his dodgy knees had made it though and arrangements for him to take up Bradders’s meal at lunchtime was swiftly made. The weather had been lousy on the run up to the walk but not surprisingly it improved for us and it turned out warm and dry for the day.
Headed by Malc Jay, who had already walked the route several times, the walk began from the car park off Welsh Row in a southerly direction following the line of the River Weaver and over the first of a thousand stiles.

On a quest to find the elusive secret bunker, no-one, except for Malc Jay, really knew where they were going but luckily someone had been out in the night putting signs out for us. Shh.

	Not having had his oats before he came out this morning, Stubby made the most of one of the fields we crossed.

	We passed a thingy and another hundred stiles before entering a stable conversion currently under construction.

	Closing in on the secret bunker we couldn't miss the dumping ground for old army vehicles and thankfully another secret sign helped us on our way.


We finally found the bunker behind high security fencing around 10.30am as planned. Keithee immediately spotted a picnic table where he could rest his weary knees. He lay face up in the hope of spotting the nuclear missiles approaching in case the radar control failed. After 2 seconds he was asleep.

		Leaving Keithee in charge we headed up a ramp and entered the bunker http://www.hackgreen.co.uk/ and straight into the cafe for butties and a cuppa. The group discounted cost to look round the bunker was £6.40. We thought the war had finished and that rations had long disappeared but oh no, not here. There was at least a consolation; a free biscuit with each cuppa, but even that was plain.
Mothy forced the last drop of brown sauce out of the bottle to add some sustenance to his butty.

		With only an hour to go before the sirens went off, signalling our departure, it was time to head off on a guideless tour.
Our secret mission to find the enemy spy mice was tricky but we didn't too bad. There were hundreds of them taking cover amongst the exhibits.

	A look of total bemusement hit one poor guy as he tried to understand the key part of preparing for war.

		Hot bedding was taken too literally by Zolette in the sleeping quarters.
There were several warning signs around various sectors warning of danger, particularly if you were prone to any heart issues. Undeterred 'Stand Back' marched on but recoiled in one room as he noticed the effect the radiation had had on one of the mice.

		As the alarm went off we assembled, we woke Zolette and Keithee, and made off for the Bhurtpore at Aston, crossing yet another hundred stiles and a canal bridge; and disturbing a hugemongous flock of Canadian geese in the process.



After another hundred stiles or so the strain was beginning to tell on Nige no-el. If only the corn had ears.

		Only a black bull stood in the way of us and the ale at The Bhurtpore Inn. Amazingly, the owner, who just happened to be on hand, kept it at bay with his dogs. 'It's very rare it attacks', he assured us, 'but you never know when he will'.

At the Bhurtpore, http://www.bhurtpore.co.uk/ Debris made the most of 2 for 1 offers on the white wine. Sadly the Hooky Gold and Golden Thread weren't on offer but were of excellent value at full price.

		The 'light meal' selection, as opposed to the 'standard meal' sized meals, were too light for some, especially for Stig who was still hungry. The sweet board was therefore bought out and held high by Stubby who droolingly read out the list, as puds were ordered.

'Pecan pie, anyone?', asked the waiter as the puds were served. 'Not for me,' said Stig, 'I’ve ordered Pear'. 'Should have gone to Specsavers', someone shouted, as Pecan pie was indicated on the board. Yuppy's pen just happened to be out and a quick note was made. Slippery slipped off with a local villager who offered him a lift whilst we finished off our drinks and puds, missing one of the highlights of the day.

A couple of steam traction engine doodickers turned up and parked outside. 'They won’t go past a pub without stopping', declared the driver. 'We're on our way to a festival at Malpas, but they just had to stop for a rest outside.'


'What sort of coal do you use', asked Dasher. 'Black', came the reply.

The engines were dated 1906 and 1897, older than anyone in our group, almost. The owner displayed an award proudly. Not sure what it was for though.

'Rod’s loving van' was inscribed above the cabin door enticing Debris to take a peek inside. I'm sure she could have had a ride if she'd have played her cards right. Click on the top hat for departure video.

		We waited for the bus opposite the pub and looking back you could see the barrels of ale we'd got through.... Eventually the bus arrived but sailed on by without stopping. Pedro was on his case. He'd catch the driver later !!

So it was back to plan B with a short stroll along the lane to Wrenbury train station, where Dasher exposed his tichy new phone whilst Stubby thumbed the train.

Back in Nantwich we split up to go our separate ways, with Zolette, Pedro, Joseph and Yuppy seeking the bus station where free shuttle buses to the Woodlands Brewery's inaugural Annual Beer Festival at Stapeley had been put on. http://woodlandsbrewery.co.uk/beer%20festival.html Pedro caught sight of the bus driver from Bhurtpore and laid into him as he explained that he never saw us. Yes right ! The shuttle bus arrived with the driver saying he could have picked us up from the Bhurtpore Pub if we’d have contacted him. Next time perhaps. We arrived at a very quiet festival just before 6. In fact we were amongst the first to arrive. The hog was still being roasted so we made the most of the fine selection of ales available, with breweries: Spitting Feathers and their dark ruby strong ale; Oakhams with their light refreshing Citra etc; Blue Monkey Brewery with their evolution; Wentworth; Vale; Hawkshead; Vale of Glamorgan; and Monty’s from Powys etc etc.
	Eventually the hog roast was opened with Joseph opting for the curry. By 8.15pm as we left, the tents had filled and a group was warming up. Future trips are going to be arranged for £15 including food and as much ale as you can drink. Can't be bad.



Finally with a £5 taxi back to Newcastle the day was over. Many thanks go out to Malc Jay for checking out the route and organising the traction engines to turn out especially for us. 'That was the hardest bit', he confirmed. Dot dot dot, dash dash dash Yuppers (enjoy yer secrets)