How lucky we are to have the trail. I use it most frequently to complete my regular cycling circuit, usually joining it at Maythorne. Its uphill nearly all the way home to Farnsfield, but as that’s the railway version of uphill, I can cope quite easily with the gradients, in spite of frequent westerly winds and the occasional squelchy surface after heavy rain, which makes it more difficult for the tyres to grip.
The Southwell Trail hasn’t been a railway line since the
mid-1960s. Before that, it carried passengers from 1871 to 1929 and after that
mostly coal, especially once the link with Bilsthorpe colliery had been
established in the 1930s, via the junction at Farnsfield. The stations at
Farnsfield, Kirklington and Edingley and Southwell all had goods yards with sidings
and were served by occasional pick-up freight trains, bringing in coal,
machinery and building materials, and taking out largely agricultural produce.
The three station buildings all remain today as private
dwellings. Also surviving are the former platform edges at Farnsfield and at Kirklington
and Edingley. Farnsfield goods shed - also now a residence, the former track
bed with its cuttings and embankments, the original road bridges and culverted stream
crossings, a splendid little Midland Railway plate layers’ hut, or perhaps more
likely a small goods office, at what was the entrance to the former station yard
at Kirklington and Edingley, as well as a concrete framed, metal loading gauge
at the other end of the same site, originally placed there to make sure that
open wagons were not overloaded when they left the goods yard by rail. The
former goods yard is now a picnic area. The signalbox at Farnsfield was removed
after the line closed and the location today is just a tangle of undergrowth, though
the car park area and the spacious entrance to the trail at this point remind
us that there were a number of sidings on both sides of the line near the
station, which also had a passing loop and two platforms on an otherwise
single-track railway.
The trail is now a multi-use path, catering for ramblers,
runners, cyclists, dog walkers, birdwatchers, horse riders, nature lovers and
geocachers. Normal progress has also, on at least one occasion, been
interrupted by the hunt - all dressed up, tally-ho, hunting horns and
galloping. Presumably they were chasing a lure, as they are supposed to do these
days, but that was no consolation for the two brown hares that got caught up in
it all. They were chased off the fields and sought refuge in a hedgerow
alongside the trail, only to be promptly torn to bits by the pack. That
spectacle unfolded within full view of an unsuspecting young couple who, up to
that point, had been out for a nice quiet walk in the countryside. The moment was
within our earshot, as well, unfortunately. I imagine that hares are what the
hunters might describe as collateral damage. Nottingham-based hunt saboteurs
were also present but appeared to be having little effect on proceedings. As
they were necessarily on foot, rather than in their cars, they were struggling
to keep up with all the action, so hardly an equal race, really, which had
obviously already been won, anyway, by the hounds.
One major reason that I wend my way home along the trail
rather than by road, is the wildlife. Over the years I’ve seen mouse, shrew, stoat,
bats, fox and loads of grey squirrels, of course, and all quite close up. There
was a very recognisable badger sett that had been quarried into the embankment near
Edingley until its more recent collapse. The well-worn paths either side of the
trail between the foliage at that point suggested a substantial badger
community, though I never witnessed any all-night parties of intensive
badgering, myself. In the early days, there were also sand lizards at the
Farnsfield end, close to the entrance and the houses, where there was a sand
bunker lined with wooden sleepers that was presumably another left-over from
the railway age. Railwaymen sometimes put sand on the tracks to improve
adhesion.
Birds are plentiful, with fieldfare and redwing flocks in
winter, as well as linnet, goldcrest, bullfinch, brambling, buzzard and lesser
redpoll. Summer visitors include common and lesser whitethroat, garden warbler,
willow warbler [though fewer than previously], sedge warbler [heard this
morning next to where the formation crosses Halam Beck, where I once also saw a
snipe] and legions of blackcap. Green woodpeckers are commonly heard, red kites
are increasing but still only occasional, and skylarks are quickly off the mark
in each new year, sometimes deciding that it is spring a bit prematurely, it
seems to me, at a time when I am still deliberating between four layers of
protection from the elements and three. I don’t see tree sparrow these days, yellowhammer
are less frequent, too, and I haven’t heard corn bunting locally for years. I miss
the once common cuckoos in the vicinity of Edingley, where the station also
used to get regular nesting turtle doves, at one time. One fairly regular
attraction when cycling the trail is sparrowhawk. They always see me coming
before I see them. Then they fly off away from me along the path, below the
tree canopy and close to the ground, before veering off and finding another
perch to the side of the trail. They may repeat this action three or four
times, as I move steadily towards them, before they get fed up with me and head
off somewhere else.
Most folk I pass are quite friendly. I have a tinkly little
bell to announce my presence, especially for those who are going my way and
therefore haven’t seen me coming. People are often on their phones, listening
to podcasts or deep in conversation with each other, and so not everyone
acknowledges me. If I’m still unsure whether they know that I’m there or not, I
just give them as wide a berth as possible.
In my experience, people generally look after their dogs
much better, these days, and so the dogs behave better, as a result. If I ding
my bell to attract their attention as I approach, most folk will either reel in
their long dog leads, reach for the dog’s collar or go for a tasty doggy treat
from their coat pocket as a distraction, so that their charges forget about
trying to take a piece out of my ankle, as I come by. I always thank them and
wish them good day.
Then there are insects. We seem to be very well off for
insects in Nottinghamshire. In the summer months, most of them seem to want to
visit our house. If we leave the door open, which I’m prone to do when its
warmer, we soon attract house flies, may flies, crane flies, wasps and bees,
all coming in for a look round. Most of them then spend a lot of time and
energy unsuccessfully trying to find their way out again. On my bike, I wear a
snood over my head and beneath my helmet at all times, to protect from the sun
and from flying wildlife. Every now and then, buzzing insects get wedged
between the grills in my headgear and I then panic, rip off my helmet and throw
it to the floor, only to find that there is still a loud buzzing in my ear as
the culprit is sitting somewhere on my snood, so I start madly whacking myself
about the head until I manage to dislodge it.
It’s no wonder, then, that the trail attracts all those
insect-eating birds in summer. Mosquitos, midges, ladybirds, flying ants,
thunder flies, the horse flies that congregate on dollops of horse poo, and
those exceedingly juicy-looking, slow moving, very black and much larger than
average jobs with dangly legs - the ones that look like there’re probably the
most nutritious, though I’m not intent on giving them a try, all make it
essential for me to keep my mouth shut as much as possible as I saunter along
between May and September. Even then, smaller insects miraculously manage to squeeze
themselves between my glasses and my goggles and I’m left desperately pawing at
my face to shake them free with one hand whilst grabbing the handlebar more
tightly than usual with the other one, as I wobble along.
As is the case in so many other parts of the country, the
severe contraction of the railway network in the 1960s provided great
opportunities for the development of these amazing social amenities, along what
were also to become valuable wildlife corridors. Many local authorities
gratefully accepted the challenge, but in our travels around the country, we’ve
also seen areas where this hasn’t yet happened as much as it could or should
have done, even though the potential is still there for it in many instances,
in the form of an increasingly overgrown former track bed.
Our own local trail can also be used to reach Clipstone Forest, via Bilsthorpe, and the River Trent at Fiskerton, by way of the gated racecourse road at Southwell, with only comparatively short stretches of on-road cycling needed to complete the links. Dedicated urban cycle lanes, the ongoing contributions of Sustrans and the creation of a system of linked national cycleways continue to encourage more people to get about by bike. So, thank goodness for the trail at Farnsfield, and a big thank you to the local authority for their foresight, and especially to the Friends of the Southwell Trail for all their hard work in maintaining it so well for us all to use as we see fit.
