Life of a Chalkstream: Right to Ruin

Greetings!

There has been much in the press recently about the right to roam. All manners of people, for a whole variety of reasons, believe the concept of private property should be upended in the pursuit of public access.

It is certainly an interesting argument that mostly seems to rely on the concept of scale. If you own an acre you seem to avoid the ire of the right to roamers but if you own a thousand, or heaven forbid ten thousand acres, then your land is their land so goes the argument.

Of course, much of the PR puffery put out by roamers presents the vision of a green and pleasant land where unfettered access has no consequences. Actually, therein lies part of the conundrum: much of Britain is so very beautiful because it has remained relatively untouched for so long. Ask any warden at any National Park and they will tell you how hard it is to balance access with the preservation of fragile natural resources. Let me tell you of one such place where an ancient right to roam has turned a tiny river into a 21^st century aquatic racetrack for 4x4s, quad bikes and scramblers.

This is what happens when a river becomes a road......

The River Meon, a small chalkstream in east Hampshire, flows for a large part of its length through the South Downs National Park. Like all rivers in Britain, it is prey to the usual dangers to its existence – pollution, abstraction, farming and urbanisation but recently in the village of Droxford a whole new menace has arrived.

The current problem is that many centuries ago carters had the right to use a 1/8^th mile section of the river to bring corn to Droxford Mill by horse and cart; the river was effectively a road but when the mill closed way back in the early part of the last century, so the use ended. However, the river by some unfortunate quirk, remained classified by statute as a U road, everyone having a right to use the unpaved road i.e. the river in the same way they can use any road on foot, bike or machine.

Watch the video of how a river becomes a road

For over a hundred years this didn’t matter; the river returned to its natural state with a pleasant footpath walk beside the river and a paddling spot for generations of children. I am not joking – I was one of those children.

However, the upsurge in interest for off-roading in the past 20 years, the participants of which scour Ordnance Survey maps to track down every ancient right, are now exploiting what can only be called a loophole in the law. Almost daily 4x4s, quad bikes and scrambling motorbikes race up and down the river destroying the banks, churning the riverbed into a lifeless stone highway whilst destroying the quiet enjoyment of those who live and walk beside the river.

.... and this is the same river as a mile upstream

Now you would have thought this would be an easy fix – the road/river was never intended for this purpose so close it off. But all the bodies who might have the clout to do something about this – South Downs National Park, Environment Agency, Natural England, Hampshire County Council and Winchester County Council- have offered kind words of sympathy but no action so far. My own immediate hope was that our friends at the Environment Agency would be all over this citing the Salmon and Freshwater Fishery Act 1975 which protects the spawning areas for trout and salmon, but apparently not.

The only good news is that a group of determined people working with the Meon Valley Partnership are lobbying hard for the closure of what is officially called the U189 Droxford Splash Route (River Meon).

I wish them every success because we must not let the right to roam morph into the right to ruin.

Campaigners: Adam Faulkner, Richard Osmond & Anthony McEwen

A circular firing squad

Well, I was highly delighted to see that head of Ofwat, after his preposterous defence of the water companies on Radio 4, is having his 15 minutes of fame. As I have numerously written Ofwat was long ago captured by producer interest, and he ably proved this.

It is a fascinating situation we find ourselves in. The government issues press releases highlighting our ‘world class regulation’. Ofwat says the water companies are doing a fine job. The water companies say they are doing a fine job except for those pesky regulators who won’t let them do more. The Environment Agency say they are monitoring the situation but cannot do more because they have no money. The head of the Environment Agency wants to put everyone in jail because, presumably, none of the fault lies with the Environment Agency and nobody else is doing a good job despite what they say to the contrary.

If it wasn’t for the massive destruction being wrought to our rivers and coastline on a daily basis you’d be tempted to laugh.

Fire!

If things had turned out a tiny bit differently, I could well have been writing this from …. well, I don’t know where as two weeks ago today the Fishing Breaks office was almost consumed by a fire in the cornfield that backs onto the office that was being harvested at the time.

It was an average Friday afternoon as we headed towards the weekend when someone popped into the office to say there was a fire on the hill. That explains the smell of burning we thought, so Sarah headed out by way of curiosity returning five minutes later with a stricken look. ‘Its really bad’, she said calling the fire brigade.

I went out to check the fire from the garden of our immediate neighbour who was in the greatest danger. At that moment, with the sirens already in the distance and the wind taking the blaze away from us it looked under control. In truth, it was more fascinating than dangerous. Then suddenly the wind changed, whipping up a storm of fire, smoke and a fear-inducing crackling noise as the flames swept towards us.

The local farmers, who have an emergency support network, having downed tools elsewhere began to arrive with harrows and bowsers to douse the flames and create firebreaks. All credit to them as they did terrific job in dangerous conditions, at times their machines becoming engulfed in smoke and flames. Most of the time they managed to escape in fast reverse but ultimately two tractors, a trailer and a harrow, making for an insurance claim of some £350,000, were lost though nobody was hurt.

I did seriously worry for our neighbours, the flames licking at the garden fence at one point, but it was only when the flames went on past them towards the Fishing Breaks office end of the field that I began to worry for ourselves. But mercifully the work of the firebreaks, bowsers and with a slight change of the wind the fire ran out of the raw material of straw and standing corn to burn itself out.