Continuing the local history thing...
Cowie Stop Line - Part 2
Cowie Stop Line - Stage 2 by
Ron Lowe, on Flickr
A continuation of my exploration of the Cowie Stop Line - a series of defences along the line of the Cowie Water in an attempt to plug the Stonehaven Gap which would have allowed invading forces to pass South, avoiding the Grampian mountains.
I start at the point I finished Part 1, the Ury Viaduct. There is no further path along the South bank of the river here, and it is all private land. So I cross the viaduct and follow a farm track on the North side, heading to the Findlayson Bridge, which carries the Slug road over the Cowie near Mowtie.
This track has recently been improved, and I come to see why: it descends to riverbank level, where a large section of flood plain has been cleared for development! I follow the obvious bulldozer track to the end of the clearing, where it stops abruptly at a large pile of cleared tree debris. Inspecting the line of trees beyond reveals a small chink, and this leads to a small but very clear path continuing directly beside the river.
A short distance along this path, I see the first evidence of the defences on this section: a row of 15 concrete cubes interspersed between large old Beeches on the South bank. Beyond here the path becomes less distinct, but nonetheless leads me all the way to the Fildlaystone Bridge, at river level.
I cross under the bridge, and up the bank on the upstream side. Crossing the bridge, I can see the pillbox with a commanding view over the bridge, but it takes a bit of looking because it's rather buried under fallen trees from the January storms. The path continues into the woods here, leading to the riverbank where the Cowie enters a steep-sided gorge. No further progress is possible here, so I have to scramble up a fairly steep bank to gain a track above.
After perhaps half a k, this path splits, with the main track gaining height to the left and a more minor fishermans path heading down to the riverbank to the right. I take the less-troden path (.. "perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear"), well actually because I wanted to follow the river as best I could!
This leads to a clearing in a tree lined glade where the water is dark and deep; a fisherman's bench sits here, with a plaque proclaiming it to be the Gove Pool. Beyond the Gove Pool, the path wends its way into a large circular clearing, encircled with massive beech trees, which meet at their tops creating a vast vaulted ceiling; a cathedral of trees. Some brave soul has climbed one of these, and tied a rope many tens of metres up, creating the most magnificent Tarzan swing I have ever seen!
Beyond here, things take a turn for the worse. The paths on the OS maps towards Swanley simply don't exist on the ground. At least not at this time of year. The bracken is taller than me, and is basically impenetrable. But being the thran sort, I push on anyway. It takes a very long time to travel about 1k through this, and by the time I reach the Swanley road, I find I'd lost my glasses somewhere along the way.
Once on the Swanley road, I jog down to Bossholes farm and the Haugh Head bridge. There are two pillboxes here; the obvious one high on the hillside overlooking the bridge, but there's a second one downstream of the bridge, on the edge of a horsey field.
This is very difficult to get to, and I end up wading down the Cowie. The riverbed is very slippery! But this gives me a view of the confluence with the small Burn of Day, where there is a series of concrete blocks, which I would have missed if I'd done the sensible thing and crossed the field! I reach the last pillbox, and sensibly cross the field back to the road.
I decide not to re-trace, but to follow the Slug road back to my starting point. But I notice that there seems to be a short-cut track from the bridge, reaching the Slug road at Bogheadly. This works well, and cuts off a long loop via Mergie.
So I am home in time to cook my bits of dinner, with a pair of shorts that would do an eight-year-old proud, and legs that are stinging and ripped. Again.
