James Ashworth
What a Right of Way Actually Means
In England and Wales, the network of public paths is a legal record, not a suggestion. Every route you walk is drawn on a definitive map held by the local highway authority, and that map carries the weight of law. A public footpath is open to walkers only — no bikes, no horses. A bridleway carries walkers, cyclists and riders. A restricted byway adds horse-drawn vehicles, and a byway open to all traffic is, in theory, driveable, though most are little more than green lanes.
That distinction matters when you meet a farmer, a gatepost or a curious landowner. You have the right to pass and repass along the line of the path, but not to wander off it into a field of barley. Knowing the difference between what you may do and what you may not keeps the network open, and it makes you a better guest in a working landscape.
Reading the Map Before You Leave the Kitchen
A 1:25,000 Explorer sheet is the walker's standard, and it shows rights of way as green dashes, with footpaths, bridleways and byways all distinguished. Sit down with it the night before. Trace the route with a finger, note the grid reference where you park, and mark the points where the path changes direction.
- Orient the map to the ground, not to your head. Line up a church spire, a pylon or a field boundary, and the picture snaps into focus.
- Count your paces for rough distance. Around 1,200 double paces covers a kilometre on the flat; add a few uphill.
- Carry a compass even on a sunny day. A handrail — a wall, a stream, a hedgerow — will keep you honest when the path vanishes under bracken.
Paper does not run out of battery, and in a damp valley it still works when the phone has given up.
Stiles, Gates and the Small Furniture of the Path
The stile is a lovely piece of country engineering, and there are dozens of types: the stone squeeze stile of the limestone uplands, the wooden ladder stile of Devon, the step stile with its carved handhold. Treat each one as a threshold. Pause, look, and cross without wrenching anything loose. Loose rails and rotting treads should be reported to the highway authority — a short email is enough, and it keeps the route open for everyone.
Gates are simpler, but the rules are absolute. Leave every gate as you find it. If it was closed, close it; if it stood open on an empty field, leave it open. Climb gates only in an emergency, and never climb a wall or fence where a stile exists. When a group crosses, the last person through closes the latch — not the first person who shouts.
Waymarkers and Knowing Where You Are
Waymarkers are the quiet signposts of the network. A yellow arrow means footpath, blue means bridleway, purple marks a restricted byway and red a byway open to all traffic. A white arrow often points along a permissive path, where the landowner has granted access — follow it gratefully, but remember it can be withdrawn.
Arrows are usually placed where a path leaves a field or enters woodland, so the trick is to look for the arrow before you need it: scan the far side of a gateway, the top of a hedge bank, a gatepost. If the arrow points left, the path probably runs along the field edge rather than through the crop, which is both the legal line and the considerate one.
When you lose the path, resist the urge to tramp about hunting for it. Go back to the last place you were certain, then work forward again. Footpath erosion starts with one person guessing.
Treading Lightly: Wildlife and Fragile Ground
The countryside in spring and early summer is a nursery. Skylarks, curlews, lapwings and meadow pipits nest on the ground, and a boot or a loose dog can destroy a clutch in a moment. Between March and July, keep dogs close and on a lead where livestock or ground-nesting birds are present, and give ewes with lambs a wide berth — a dog merely looking at a lamb can cause a ewe to abandon it.
- Blanket bog and peat — stay on the stone flags or boardwalk; a single misplaced step can leave a scar that lasts decades.
- Limestone pavement — the clints and grykes hold rare ferns and orchids; walk on the rock, not the soil between.
- Wildflower meadows — seed sets in late summer, so keep to the mown or trodden line.
- Heathland — adders bask on sunny banks, and heather takes years to recover from a shortcut.
Take litter home, including fruit peel, which is slow to break down and attracts the wrong sort of wildlife. Leave nothing but a faint footprint.
The Slow Art of Country Walking
Go early, when mist still hangs in the valley, or late, when the light turns gold and the bats come out. Carry a flask, a waterproof that genuinely fits a pocket, and a spare pair of socks. Stop often. Sit on a stile, listen for a curlew, watch a buzzard circle, and let the miles be smaller than your ambition. These footpaths have been walked for centuries; they will wait while you look at a hedgerow.
