CAN’T SEE THE WOOD...
Mark Williams heads to Cannock Chase to explore its tracks and trails with forester and off-road guru Roger Wilson
Iwas beginning to think our party of off-road drivers, snaking between the grey-barked pine trees, had lost its way. Ahead of me, I’d watched a Defender 90 crest a steep, six-foot ridge then rock forward, rear diff in full view, before disappearing down the other side. Now, as I make the same leap of faith in my bog-standard Freelander 1, and get the tacho up to 1200 rpm for momentum, climb the ridge and perch on top of it, the 90 still too close to progress any further.
Ahead, the ridge drops into a pond which, judging from the 90 ahead, seems at maximum wading depth. The 90 has veered right, so I, too, take the plunge, the Hill Descent Control rattling the news of the gradient until the water is washing above the door seals. As I haul the car right, I face a real climb out, the bank of the pond looming at eye level and looking considerably steeper than my maximum 30 degree approach angle.
I have no option but to get the revs up again and make my little hippo climb out. And it does, with the traction control grumbling a little but with no more drama than the descent into the pond. Then we’re taken on a winding route which brings us, once again, into the drink, but this time our looks of concern are replaced with enthusiastic grins.
Darkness is encroaching in the plantation woodland of Cannock Chase and it’s not long before Roger Wilson tells us that we’re heading back to where we started – the car park at Birches Valley Forest Centre where, just three hours earlier, we’d met for a useful briefing peppered with his dry wit. Roger – a man with a lifetime of experience of this woodland – is the kind of bloke you’d trust when in a tight spot.
“It’s a massive area but I think he knows every tree personally,” Steve Richards divulged to me as Roger spoke. Steve’s the regular tail-gunner for the off-road convoys Roger leads every month or so, and familiar with the terrain himself. Our group of cars in the now-deserted car park of the Forest Centre are all Land Rovers, with the exception of a Japanese pick-up - every 4x4 is welcome at Cannock Chase.
Roger has promised a ‘no scratch’ run through the forest and, as if to underline his faith in this claim, has brought his mint-looking Freelander 2 – his road car and sporting precisely no off-road adaptations. There’s another Freelander 2, a couple grungy Defenders, a very nice Discovery 2 and, for good measure, a stock 17-plate Range Rover Evoque, whose owner, Thornton, is very anxious to keep shiny.
Martin and his pal Tony have been Cannock regulars for the last 18 months. Martin’s 300Tdi 110 County is fabulous, raised two inches, fitted with an external roll-cage and a variable vane turbo. He agrees it’s capable of real challenges and in his own words this only scratches an itch. Martin and Tony are really experienced off-road drivers who, for example, have tackled Protrack’s Wild Wales 4x4 tour.
Roger issues all the reminders about safety, especially the need to keep an eye open for mountain bikers, and hands us all with a short-wave walkie talkie, set on the same channel so he can talk to us along the way. In our group are a few firsttimers including Thornton, so it’s plain that we’ll be doing nothing too axle-twisting. Nonetheless, after we cross the road onto forest tracks ten minutes later, I’m starting to think that this may be more of a test for my 2005 Freelander 1 than I’d bargained for.
These Cannock Chase off-road outings have been going a long time, providing the drivers with an opportunity to view the area from a different perspective where 4x4s are usually prohibited. It gives everyone a foray on to logging trails which, in working hours, are the haunt of forestry machinery. Personally, I’d always pick a forest drive over a quarry pay and play not least because of the scenery but also because forest mud is less damaging and easier to remove than sandstone slurry.
We are led by Roger along some simple gravel tracks, occasionally diverting into plantation woodland requiring lock-to-lock precision and, as the drive progresses, the challenges become greater. My chief worry is that I could get caught out by deep ruts and get stranded like a beached whale, but of course Roger is way ahead of me. While the grinding sound of gravel on the floorpan of the hippo is a regular thing, he’s picked routes which come within a gnat’s eyelash of being too challenging.
It’s been a long while since I drove off-road, and do so now with my wife’s warnings still ringing in my ear – the Freelander is our family car, and she’s as emotionally attached to it as I am. Weaving between pine trees with, literally, two inches to spare either side is a little nerve-wracking though I reason that scrapes from branches can easily be removed with some T- Cut.
An hour or so in, we head up a steep gravel slope between banks of pink heather and emerge on a hilltop where we all pull over. Roger has something to say about Cannock Chase. During daylight hours, Roger is District Timber Marketing Forester – a job which he’s arrived at during 41 years with the Forestry Commission, the organisation responsible for managing the Public Forest Estate in England.
From my own perspective, as a petrolhead and tree-hugger,
“If there’s one downside of off-roading a manual Freelander 1 it’s definitely the gearing”
Cannock’s plantation forest ticks each box. It is hilly with varied terrain, but also an industrial landscape, so we’re in no danger of displacing wildlife, as Roger has chosen tracks where there’s less disturbance. The statistics Roger gives us are astonishing. The Forestry Commission produces, sustainably, 20,000 tonnes of timber each year from Cannock Chase which goes into industry for varied uses including furniture, fencing and building materials. They plant an incredible 100 hectares of new trees, at a density of 3500 saplings per hectare, cropping them at 20-years old, to thin the plantation, then cut more mature trees later, in doing so creating a patchwork of varying habitats.
There are wildlife issues. Fallow deer, red deer and muntjac are highly successful here; so successful, that they can not only destroy young trees but damage the environment for much rarer species. For example, nightingales are nationally in decline and this has been attributed to shrub layer damage by deer. So, each year, rangers from the Forestry Commission cull deer, in order to keep the population in check. The venison is then sold to game dealers.
As we remount for the second half, the light is beginning to fade. We descend this high moorland back into the plantation and Roger, sensing we may be getting blasé, leads us to greater challenges. One of those challenges is a very long, steep slope on a loose-ish surface of gravel and stone. I watch Thornton’s Evoque ahead of me climbing it, and my heart flutters a little as he grinds almost to halt. Then I see each wheel scrabble for grip and he’s moving again; the Evoque’s impressive electronics reading the slope perfectly.
When it’s my turn, I’m faced with a small problem. There’s a sharp left turn up the slope with little room to pick up momentum before the climb. I decide the best strategy is to take the turn at speed so I hit the slope at more than 2000 rpm and trust the traction control all the way up.
If there’s one downside of off-roading a manual Freelander 1, it’s definitely the gearing. First gear seems glacially slow on-road, but off-road it’s too high for some tasks. If you hit a steep climb at tickover, you can stall. The car tackles this long gravel slope with aplomb, but later, I’m to face a real dilemma.
One thing I’ve rapidly realised is that I could easily toast a clutch plate without good technique. In convoy, I leave ample space in front of me, stay in gear and keep my foot clear of the clutch as much as possible. On level ground, at tickover, the car trundles happily along in gear at 3 mph without any throttle input.
I’m doing exactly this as we enter a forest section which still has stumps from a previous felling, jutting a few inches or more up out of the pine needles. I side-step as many as possible, but get a wheel over a few of them to avoid them grounding the underside of the car. I make a note to myself to get some rock sliders fitted to protect the sills.
We’re now on the home straight, figuratively speaking, but Roger’s not going to let us go without another dip in a pond. This time, it’s not the water that’s a concern but the exit up a 45 degree, five foot slope with a sharp right turn directly afterwards. I wait for the 90 in front to clear, then set off, on a low throttle so as not to dig in as I hit the slope. I’ve underdone it by quite a margin. Before I crest the top, I’ve stalled.
I sit there, still in gear, knowing that hitting the clutch will mean a rapid, uncontrolled backwards descent. I contemplate hitting the footbrake, selecting reverse, and starting the car in gear for a controlled backwards descent. Then I remember another technique; I just turn the key, the car still in first gear, and the starter motor carries me the 15 feet over the crest to level ground where I can get the engine going again.
At our final gathering point, we are sharing a few laughs and farewell handshakes. I go round the car looking for damage. I have gathered some leaves on the roof bars and the undertray is full of stones, but the paint is perfect.
For Henry Carney, it’s the first time he’s driven off-road. He has a Defender at home, but he’s chosen his Freelander 2 tonight: “That was brilliant,” he tells me. “I thought it was going to be dead easy but it was actually quite challenging.
“That said, I grew in confidence, knowing that I was behind someone experienced like Roger. I’m definitely coming back, maybe with the 90.”
Then Steve (who happens to be one of the nicest people you will ever meet) comes over to talk: “I saw you stall back there,” he says to me. “Using the starter motor – proper old school, that.” I try not to look smug.