I almost don’t want to tell you about Lee Brockhurst because one of the lovely aspects a walk here is how rare it is to see anyone. That, it must be said, is a recipe for a fairly brief blog so here goes. The walk starts with a really steep climb though and you probably don’t want to be bothered with that.
It’s a North Shropshire archetype: sunken lanes, rocky outcrops, buzzards weeping mournful over small woods.
Easy to get to (just off the A49) and a fairly brief circular walk. At least some of it is National Trust land though they don’t make much of a song and dance about it. The woods are packed with birch which a forester once told me is the tree most hated by foresters. There are also conifers in which you can often spot goldcrests. In fact with birch pine and the country’s tiniest birds it has a surprising amount in common with the Spey valley (not in Shropshire).
There is a lovely, gentle approach to walker management. Bits of brush and even fallen trees are arranged to keep you on the path. It’s a sort of friendly nudge version of a fence.
