A walk along the Irwell

Goosander

I woke up from one of those nights where every battle for territorial control of the bed was lost to the cat and found myself facing a bright, sunny day. Half an hour later itchy eyes and ears set me wondering what was going on. I checked the weather forecast to see if I needed to worry about any showers and found the pollen count was Very High, an unwelcome escalation of hostilities. I parked all the plans for today and decided I'd have a late afternoon walk when things might be slightly better.

Across the road, in between sessions where PE teachers exercise their vocal chords, there were a couple of dozen adult lesser black-backs with the usual selection of magpies, woodpigeons and jackdaws. This has been par for the course all week. Lesser black-backs are our default Summer gulls but there's a lot more than usual about this year with dozens of them circling round Trafford Park whenever I've been through.

I noticed reports that the weekend's lesser scaup over at Ringley was still around so, lathered in sun block, a nose full of vaseline and a song in my heart I headed over to the Trafford Centre to get the 22 to Clifton, the plan being to cut through Clifton Country Park, bob over the bridge and have a shufti at the sewage works where it was last reported. Lesser scaup's still a new bird for me so I'm trying to take every opportunity to get my eye on on it.

The 22 is one of our longer local routes. Inevitably we hit the school run. In my experience the school run is one of those things ike half-term holidays, inescapable by the use of simple expedients like clocks or calendars. So it was late afternoon when I arrived at Clifton Cricket Club, crossed Manchester Road and headed down Clifton Hall Road to the country park.

Clifton Country Park 

Blackbirds, blackcaps, song thrushes and wrens provided the major part of the songscape. Here and there a chiffchaff might make itself heard or a goldfinch or a greenfinch. Families of great tits and blue tits stole through bushes like thieves in the night. The lake was littered with Canada geese and black-headed gulls, a few tufted ducks and mallards making up the numbers. A pair of great crested grebes cruised midwater, swallows and house martins hawked overhead.

Great crested grebe, Clifton Country Park 

I headed for the river and bumped into a chap who had also come over to look for the lesser scaup. We compared information: I was going off Birdguides which said Ringley and located the bird in the water treatment works there, his information said Ringley but located the bird a mile or more away in the abandoned water treatment works over the river on the other side of Clifton Country Park by the motorway. We went our different ways, each wishing the other good luck. I was suddenly not sure of seeing the bird at all.

River Irwell 

I wandered over to the river and crossed over to the water treatment works. A few mallards bobbed about on the river, a heron fished in the turbulent waters by the outflow and a couple of grey wagtails fussed about on the shingle banks.

Grey wagtail, Ringley 

The water treatment works have been in a constant state of reconstruction for years so it seemed an unlikely place to see a lesser scaup but I've seen rarities in stranger places so who knows. There were a dozen or so black-headed gulls floating about on the pans and lagoons visible from the road into Ringley but no ducks. There are paths I've not explored here so I had a wander round. The best bet seemed to be the path running from Ringley between Ringley Wood and the water treatment works. I walked the length of the path. Lots of woodland birdsong on one side, empty lagoons and pans on the other. So like as not if a lesser scaup was about it was at the abandoned site.

I walked back over to Clifton Country Park and walked along the path following the river. I reckoned I could walk down to Clifton Aquaduct, cross the river then walk back along the river to the abandoned works to look for the lesser scaup then walk back to the current works and head to either Stoneclough or Clifton for a bus. It's a walk I've done before but not one I've done in Summer and that turned out to make a difference.

Clifton Country Park 

Juvenile blackcap, Clifton Country Park 

All the usual woodland birds were singing in the trees along the path. Every so often I could get a clear view of the river. Hereabouts it runs wide and shallow over and between shelves of New Red Sandstone. A couple of times there was a handful of mallards loafing on a rocky bank or dabbling in the shallows, a few times a black-headed gull or two. I'd gone beyond the park, under the motorway and into Clifton Green before I found any goosanders, a pair of redheads dozing on a rock with a couple of lesser black-backs.

Goosander 

Lesser black-back 

Dodging cyclists on the extremely narrow banktop path next to the big construction works you see from the Bolton to Manchester train I found the path verge was a ribbon of common spotted orchids. It's a very long time since I've seen so many together.

Common spotted orchids 

It was late teatime and by this stage I was flagging badly, wiping my eyes and nose every few minutes. I crossed the aquaduct into Waterdale Meadows and decided I didn't have it in me for the walk back the other way. The best bet was to walk through the meadows into Drinkwater Park and get the 93 from Carr Clough into Manchester.

Waterdale Meadows 

Swifts and swallows hawked overhead and the willow warblers, whitethroats and grey wagtails of the meadows gave way to the blackcaps, chiffchaffs and pied wagtails of Drinkwater Park. 

Drinkwater Park 

I decided on a direct route to the bus stop which would be twenty minutes quicker but involved taking one or other steep path up into the housing estate. I opted for the one to Grundy Avenue, it's as steep as the one to the playground but it doesn't crumble underfoot quite as alarmingly as you climb. Even so, partway up I remembered a rubbishy old Australian drama series called "The Flying Doctors" where a heart attack victim was dangling about six feet from the top of a rocky slope and these two cobbers with more safety gear than fifteen Himalayan climbing teams leaned over and shouted: "It's a dangerously crumbly rock surface, we're going to have to leave you to die here and cut you down later, sorry mate." The twittering of house sparrows in back gardens never sounded so sweet.

There wasn't long to wait for the 93. As every other single time I forgot there's a stop at Kersal Castle, I remembered the 52 to the Trafford Centre stops across the road and is due about ten minutes later and I apologised to the driver for rushing off the bus at the last minute. Every. Single. Time. I really should know by now. I idled the time waiting for the 52 watching a couple of dozen sand martins hawking over the river, a pair of tufted ducks by the bank and the mallards and black-headed loafing on the shingle banks downstream. A lunatic voice in my head told me I could have walked here from Drinkwater Park…

Along the Irwell

Canada goose, Clifton Country Park 

It was one of those bright, sunny days that turn cloudy the moment you put your boots on and pours down while you're standing at the bus stop but I took a chance and went for a walk anyway. It was quite mild if you stayed indoors and the wind was brisk and aimed straight for the bladder. The 25 was late getting to the Trafford Centre so I saw the 132 leave as we arrived so I revised my plans. The next bus out was the 22 so I decided on a wander round Clifton Country Park. If the weather stayed bad I'd just have a walk round the lake and a look at the river and get the bus home. If it cleared up I'd either walk down the river to Agecroft or cross over and walk up to Ringley or, if the weather turned good, down either to the Outwood Trail into Radcliffe or through Waterdale to Prestwich. I like having an unambiguously definite plan of action.

Clifton Country Park 

When I got off the bus in Clifton (3rd stop after the motorway) the weather was bright and sunny, if a bit cool. A few non-threatening clouds rolled in as I walked down the road and under the railway into the country park. The trees and gardens were noisy with blackbirds, greenfinches, chaffinches and wrens, goldfinches and house sparrows twittered and clamoured in the shrubberies.

Coot, Clifton Country Park 

There was more of the same in the country park together with singing willow warblers, chiffchaffs and great tits. I wandered down to the lake where Canada geese, coots and a mute swan lurked expectantly on the off-chance passersby had bags of goodies. Further out a couple of black-headed gulls loafed on the water by a raft of tufted ducks. Tufties are odd ducks, unlike all the others they don't look to change their behaviour come the breeding season and still hang about in what look like the Winter groups then all of a sudden you start noticing that the ducks have ducklings with them. It's evidently a winning strategy on the subsidence flashes of Greater Manchester.

Wandering over to the river there were more willow warblers, chiffchaffs and great tits singing in the trees and a coal tit sang by the junction of the paths. There was just the one redhead goosander loafing on the shoals on the bend of the river. 

River Irwell 

On a whim I crossed the river and walked by the water treatment works and walked down Red Rock Lane and into Giants Seat Wood. I decided not to take any of the side tracks into the wood, the metalled lane was quite wet enough. The long, and it feels never-ending, Autumn has left all tracks and paths in the state one generally only ever encounters in early February and it doesn't look like they'll be recovering for quite some time. The paths into Giants Seat were no exception. Luckily there was no real need to leave the lane: I met two people and their dogs over the stretch of a mile and a half and there was plenty of wildlife about.

Blackbird, Giants Seat Wood 

Sheltered from the wind it became a very nice Spring afternoon. Blackcaps and song thrushes joined the songscape. Blackbirds, robins and wrens fossicked about by the side of the lane, finches and titmice bounced about in the trees and a couple of singing goldcrests were a delight. Every so often pheasants would call from deep cover. The woodland floor was thickly carpeted with wild garlic and bluebells and these were busy with bees and hoverflies. I didn't see any butterflies until the stretch into Fat Hurst Wood, orange tips suddenly becoming abundant fluttering about over the garlic.

Red Rock Lane 

Giants Seat Wood 

The right side of the lane is fenced off for its whole length, at first to stop you falling into the river then to stop you falling into the sludge lagoons. Here and there the lagoons are visible from the lane and the moorhens and teal carefully drift into cover when you notice them.

Fat Hurst Wood 

The lane had been getting appreciably worse as I walked along. I got to the junction with the Outwood Trail and decided not to follow it, that looked no better and I didn't fancy a steep walk up mud, if the going was dodgy I was for keeping to the flat.

Roe deer prints 

You can hear the motorway as you approach it but only see it at the last minute. The lane turns at a right angle and runs along the motorway down to the underpass. Looking at the state of it I wondered if I hadn't have been better going up the Outwood Trail. I was committed now so off I went, stepping into the hoofprints that hadn't filled with water and trying not to obliterate the prints of three roe deer that hadn't long passed by. I tried not to get too distracted by the long-tailed tits in the hedgerow or the jays in the trees on the nearby sludge lagoons.

Waterdale Meadows 

Under the motorway and onto Waterdale Meadows and I had a choice. One path runs alongside the motorway then sheers off towards Phillips Park, the other along the river. They both looked rank. I assumed the roe deer knew what they were doing and walked along the river, the wisdom of the decision evident a hundred yards down where a lot of footprints and hoofprints cut through a bramble patch onto this path. Blackcaps and willow warblers sang in the trees, mallards and gadwall flew in circles low overhead before returning back to their pools in the meadows and half a dozen goosanders loafed on the river where it suddenly starts smelling of soap.

Clifton Viaduct 

Passing the Clifton Viaduct the trees were busy with finches and titmice, the undergrowth busy with robins, wrens and blackbirds and a couple of swallows flew overhead.

Blue tit, Waterdale Meadows 

Drinkwater Park 

It was a relief to get onto the metalled paths of Drinkwater Park. Chiffchaffs, song thrushes and goldcrests joined the songscape which had been constant from the moment I got off the bus. A female sparrowhawk passing overhead didn't provoke a moment's pause. A pair of coots were nesting on the pond by the path, there wasn't enough cover round the margins for much else.

Drinkwater Park 

I took the path up to Kershaw Avenue for the bus home and ended up walking up steep, muddy slopes after all. Luckily the steepest stretch, the last leg up to the playground, was the driest and had enough embedded rubble for safe footholds.

I had a couple of minutes to wait for the 93 into town. I didn't fancy the city centre in a Friday teatime so got off at Cromwell Bridge and spent the five minutes I had to wait for the 52 to the Trafford Centre watching sand martins hawking over the river and lesser black-backs soaring over the Kersal Wetlands.

Bird cherry, Drinkwater Park 

Along the mighty Irwell

Goldeneyes, Clifton

I thought I'd ease myself gently into the week, I've been sleeping badly lately so I wasn't feeling up to doing anything clever like remembering to get the right train. Thus it was late morning before I set off for a walk, leaving a school playing field with its thirty-odd black-headed gulls and handfuls each of common gulls, herring gulls and lesser black-backs behind me. I got the 25 to the Trafford Centre and the 22 bus to Bolton, getting off in Clifton and walking down to Clifton Country Park.

Grey squirrel, Clifton Water Park

There were fifty-odd black-headed gulls on the lake at Clifton Country Park together with dozens of coots, tufted ducks, gadwall and mallards. There were fewer Canada geese than I was expecting, perhaps a dozen, and half a dozen mute swans most of which were last year's cygnets. I could hear teal the moment I arrived, it took me ages to find the two drakes calling at the Western end of the lake. It was while I was scanning round looking for them that I found a female goldeneye in a raft of tufties. A calling great spotted woodpecker was easy to find in its tree, the noisy crowd of goldfinches in the young alders near it were surprisingly difficult.

Clifton Country Park 

I had a look at the Irwell by Bolton Water Treatment Works. A couple of dozen mallards loafed on the big shingle bar at the bend of the river while a couple of goosanders swam upstream.

Clifton Country Park 

I came back into Clifton Country Park and walked along the path on the high river bank. Blackbirds, robins and wrens were busy in the undergrowth while mixed tit flocks bounced around in the trees by the path. The first I encountered was a mixture of long-tailed tits, coal tits and goldcrests, the rest were loose assemblies of long-tailed, blue and great tits. 

Goosander, Clifton

Down on the river grey wagtails fossicked about in the detritus of human litter on the banks while mallards and teal dozed and dabbled and goosanders drifted downstream and flew back upstream to start the journey afresh. A way downstream half a dozen goldeneyes looked to have paired up. I scanned the shoals and rapids in a fruitless search for any dippers. Dozens of lesser black-backs and herring gulls soared overhead, I've no idea where they were going or had come from.

Goldeneye, Clifton

I joined the old Fletcher's Canal towpath and headed East. Whenever I've visited Clifton Country Park I've crossed the river and either walked upstream to Ringley or gone up the hill to Radcliffe. I thought it about time I should explore the walk down to Waterdale Meadows and through to Philips Park. There was a marked change once I got to the point where the motorway, railway and river come together: upstream there was an abundance of ducks, downstream there were two mallards.

Clifton Viaduct 

I crossed Clifton Aquaduct into Waterdale Meadows where I spent an inordinate amount of time admiring the views of the Clifton Viaduct, a 13-arch Grade II listed beauty that used to carry trains between Pendleton and Radcliffe. The meadows themselves were fairly quiet save for wrens and the occasional great tit but passing into the woodlands I started to find pairs of bullfinches and jays lurking quietly in the trees. As I reached one of the cycleways what I assumed was a rather leggy dog lurching my way turned out to be a roe buck. For a moment it was difficult to know which of us was the more surprised but as I stood there gobsmacked he turned on his heels and pelted into the trees beyond.

Philips Park 

I was tempted to follow the path leading into the Outwood Trail and thence into Radcliffe but I wasn't convinced I had enough left in me for a comfortable walk. Instead I followed the path into Philips Park and took the path skirting the formal gardens. A large mixed tit flock by the gardens was almost entirely long-tailed tits with a handful of goldcrests. There were a couple of coots and a heron on Drinkwater Pond as I walked by. 

Prestwich Clough 

I skirted Drinkwater Park and walked through Prestwich Clough into Prestwich. It was getting on and most of the birdlife was intent on quietly feeding up before retiring for the night and avoiding dogs having a giddy time of their walks. Great tits and coal tits rummaged in the bushes with robins and blackbirds and another pair of bullfinches were feeding in a stand of alders. I cut through and walked down St Ann's Road to get the bus. Halfway down a rather handsome sparrowhawk put the fear of God into a flock of woodpigeons.

Sparrowhawk, Prestwich

What had set out to be a quiet potter around for an hour or two had become a four-hour exploration of an unfamiliar stretch of the Irwell. My knees were relieved when I got to the bus stop on Bury New Road and didn't have to wait long for the 97 into Manchester.