Dunstable Downs
243 metres
797 feet
2nd July 2024
Summer Thermals
A week or so earlier, on a trip back from Scotland, I had strayed a mile or so from the M1 to ascend the mighty Newtonwood Lane, the highest point in Nottinghamshire. ** Today, another county high, not a million miles from the M1. The morning had started warm and sunny, but by the time I had reached the M25 in Kent, a heavy, oppressive orangey cloud base had gathered. The sort of cloud that dystopian, post atomic war films often rely on to give that sense of a sunless world. This type of weather is beginning to be the order of the day. Last year was similar and I don’t doubt the suggestion that global warming has its part to play. Happy daze.
After leaving the M1 at junction 9 and working through some completely deserted and obviously prosperous back lanes I arrived at the carpark at the top of Dunstable Downs. I had started off in a T-shirt, but three hours later, and as I got out of the car to buy the £3.50 all day parking ticket, I decided to don a jumper and light coat. These days you need to have thermal back up, even in the middle of summer. As I turned towards the visitor’s centre, looking north, a white glider was thrown up into the sky from below the chalk scarp slope, seeking out its own thermals.
Impressive, but not as impressive as the cauliflower curry pasty that the excellent visitors centre offered as a midday snack. Vegetable curries in a Cornish style pasty is the future. You heard it here first.
I spent a minute looking at the noticeboard that showed the various walks around the country park, with a hot cup of coffee in hand, and surrounded by young parents with babies and small children stoically taking on the conditions. My time was limited but given that I was at the top already I felt duty bound to make a token effort. Having visited this spot on at least a couple of occasions with family over the years, primarily to fly kites with kids, I had previously strolled to the woods to the west, so instead decided to explore along the ridge to the east and see where it took me. Despite the gloomy overcast conditions, a Red Kite drifted slowly overhead and the views across the plains stretching out to the north and west were impressive. If only the sun would push through?
I headed almost directly north along the chalk ridge. After 15 minutes or so I had reached a group of distinctive Neolithic and Bronze age burial mounds.
The Five Knolls – Picture enhanced to indicate how it might have looked on a brighter day!
Small hawthorn trees and wildflowers enhanced the sense of romance that could be attributed to the site, but whether it had any major significance historically I couldn’t say. Whenever I am at a pre-Romano British location, I try to put myself in the shoes (or whatever the footwear might have been) of people who may have stood there 2000 years earlier and attempt to visualise the landscape they were likely to have seen. From the Five Knolls burial mounds, and looking east, the urban sprawl of Dunstable and Luton spread towards the horizon. On this occasion my imagination was sadly not up to the task and the photo I took with the airport and Vauxhall works in the distance has no aesthetic value whatsoever.
Motor City and Eric Morcombe’s Saturday afternoon’s entertainment. Picture unenhanced
The views in every other direction, and despite the drab conditions, were nevertheless inspiring. After weaving up, down and through the Five Knolls, the path (a small section of the long distance Icknield Way) dropped quickly towards to the end of the country park. It was the cue to turn sharp left and then along a path with garden fences to the right and thick woodland and shrubs to the left. No more than ten minutes or so of walking at a distinct ankle turning angle, the path broke cover and the view along the scarp slope reaching out to the southwest provided perfect context to the topography of the chalk.
Topography. Never use a black and white film in the SLR on a gloomy day (lesson learnt too late)
The milky white path continued southwest, hugging a contour and with the rounded forms of the chalk grassland bulwarks rising steeply to the left. The clouds had thinned too and with a hint of sun the temperature had suddenly lifted. I immediately regretted the layers I had earlier invested in.
A clearing sky and wildflower jungles
With time running away I had little time to hang around and take in the unfamiliar array of butterflies that flitted between the diversity of wildflowers, but in the distance, and in large fields about a mile on, it was impossible to ignore the impressionistic reddy, orange tones of millions of poppies.
I couldn’t possibly say if this one has been enhanced, but let’s just say the sun had gone again
The track continued to hug the fields at the foot of the slope. Chalk is the dominant bedrock in the south and east of England. 80 to 100 million years old, its thick but gentle folds appear and disappear before petering out north of York. By the time it reaches Dunstable it’s facing northwest, and beyond the clays of the Midlands and then the millstone grits, limestones and granites of the north. Compared to the 700–800-foot ramparts of the South Downs, the 300-foot scarp slopes of the Downs at Dunstable are relatively diminished but still presents an impressive feature. I had reached the field where the gliders were being prepared and launched. Throughout the time I had been walking, gliders had been catapulted into the air, or dragged up by a light aeroplane, at an astonishing frequency. Who knew that so many people seemed to have the time to take to the air on an ordinary Tuesday in June. Impressive as it was, I wasn’t tempted, but could have done with a ride back to the top.
With the time now pressing (I had grandparenting duties and a children’s concert to attend), any thoughts of a longer walk up through the woods to the west had evaporated and it was now a simple hoick straight up the slope. I say “simple” but in truth, despite being relatively fit for an old person, I had to stop a few times to regain my breath and save any wheezing embarrassment should anyone have come the other way. As you do in these moments, you turn your gaze away from the slope as if to indicate that you are simply taking in the view. As I executed this increasingly awkward move on the third occasion, in the field below another glider was being catapulted into the sky.
Chocks away….it’s dreary Tuesday
Excitement over I bent forward, took a deep breath, and struggled on up. Eventually the slope slackened off and the visitors centre came back into view, fronted some distance away by a large abstract metal structure that may have been art, or may have been functional, or may have been both. And, without wishing to cause offence to artists and engineers alike, that’s as much as I am able to say on that.
Whatever else this dominant point represents, it is popular, does great curry pasties and its dynamic thermals will fly kites, carry gliders and give birds of prey an obvious advantage for thousands of years to come; even if the rivers rise. I was happy to have experienced it all, if only for a short while.
* Amended from Bedfordshire to Central Bedfordshire 3rd May 2025 on discovery that the old county of Bedfordshire had, some years ago, been divided into a number of Unitary Authorities.
**https://elcolmado57.wordpress.com/2024/07/05/cresting-the-county-nottinghamshire/
El Colmado 57 