Much Wenlock High Street was full of small shops, reminiscent of the days before big supermarkets. Despite the early hour a queue had formed outside the butchers and the market, with its flowers and fruit beneath the Guildhall, was also attracting customers as I walked through town this morning. Too early to visit the priory ruins (which also required pre booked tickets due to the Coronavirus) I headed towards Ironbridge via an abandoned railway, fields and woodland.
Reaching the deep valley created by the River Severn as it began its long journey through England, I followed the line of another old railway along the river, deviating to look at the remains of a lime kiln. The Iron bridge itself is impressive as it was the very first, cast iron bridge, built in 1781. It might have been tempting to create a crude, over designed structure as it had not previously been attempted, instead the bridge is light and elegant.
English Heritage, now a charity, look after the bridge. I chatted with one of their men, who was cleaning the iron work, about the casting and construction methods used (riveted or using joints typical of woodwork). He told me the current colour of the bridge, a sort of brownish red, was based on the original paintwork of the structure, and was a colour still in use for such structures today. He inspired me to make a detour up to Coalbrokedale to see the first coke fired blast furnace at the Museum of Iron. Dating from either 1638 or 1658 but later modified, the remains of this blast furnace has been excavated from below later rubble. On returning to the Severn Gorge I walked by the remains of the Bedlam blast furnace. The area was one of the first manufacturing centres of the industrial revolution, producing ceramics as well as iron, and iron goods. Once blast furnaces would have lit the sky at night with their flames, the hammering of forges would have mingled with the puffing of early steam trains, horses would have pulled carts of tiles, and the air would have been laden with sulphurous smoke. Now the limestone quarries of the Severn Gorge have been replaced by woodland, and tourists visit pubs once frequented by boatmen and foundry workers. The old factories are now museums and the streets abound with tea rooms and little shops.
Not all is well however, flooding of the River Severn seems very frequent based on the flood levels and dates marked on a door on the Boat Inn by Coalport. There were also signs describing work used to stabilise the riverside, which was prone to subsidence owing to mine working and spoil heaps.
My final sight of the Severn Gorge as I climbed out of the it was the Hay Inclined Plane, used to lift barges from one canal to a much higher one, avoiding the need for many locks. Obscured by fencing and trees I was disappointed not to see more of it. I climbed to the top to see where the vessels were lifted into a cradle but fencing and a private property sign stopped me from getting close.
I tried to return to the route in my guidebook, following a path on my GPS. It started well but became overgrown, entering an area of tall stinging nettles. My gaiters protected my calves, but the stings penetrated my trousers at my knees. They are still painful hours later. I had to retrace my steps back to the path recommended by my guide. I then walked through woods in clouds of the white florets of cow parsley. Among them a man warned me that the golfers on the subsequent course, crossed by the path, could be aggressive. I took care to keep to the very edge of the fairways, even if the right of way crossed them.
Road walking, field crossing and woodland paths followed. Deviating off the guidebook route I walked up a footpath through woodland centred on Wesley Brook to reach the village of Shifnal where there was accommodation. Not somewhere I had heard of before, it seems to be a large village of red brick houses, some in Georgian style, containing the busy Bell Inn and my bed for tonight.
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