8th August. We were away fairly early walking back into Congleton the route we ambled in last night for supplies. It was strange to see the 'no alcohol' signs in suburbia the walk into town passing about 5 pubs within half a mile. The weather was ok, sunny. It was a bear sort of day, the plastic bear present on industrial estate and pub signs and with Josh doing an impression of Bear Radio which must exist.Even the high school had one. After the three mile trek across town we picked up the Dane Valley Walk. This was not walked that often and had us climbing stiles that were clad in nettles and brambles.The route was not clear and private signs and keep out did not help, keep to path was a little hard to follow when there was no path through fields of turnips, which tasted lovely and sweet incidently, and dense forests of maize. Walking was hard work. We were in quite a posh area, and chatted to a number of chatty folk on some beautiful horses. Having kept working horses in the past I find it easy to talk horse with horse folk. A woman and daughter on a hunter and pony showed a fair nit of interest in the walk and I said I would mention them, sorry I forgot your names. One woman on a heavyish gelding had trouble controling him going passed us and kept baulking. She was on her mobile which didnt help and in the end the mobile went into her mouth to allow two hands on the rein, I had been dying to tell her to put her phone away but in the end common sense prevailed. Just passed that a woman directed us into St.Oswald Church thinking we were part of a walk and bike charity event going on. We kept quiet period and did give a donation to the church for the lovely tea and cakes served. Apparently the church used to be a family church but eas now a parish church and the estate of Brereton has the honour of being the last place for bear baiting, happy days. From here on the walk was almost guess work as we had no battery for gps and a poor road map. We tried to keep jolly but after repeated renditions of various songs we knew was not lifting us much. We crossed the M6 , we were on country lanes withthe a tractor stopping to ask US directions, strange. Further on a van sped passed and we had the pleasure of being spat on. Shame they had not pulled in a mile up the road. There were numerous empty cans of Red Bull and McDonalds Rolo drink cups discarded from some thick local yobs, the amount of boy racers in crappy so called sporty cars were nauseating. In my anger I walked passed our turning and should of turned where the last boy racer had turned and as a result we walked a mile to far south. Eventually due to walking with the sun in our faces, which we should not have had we back tracked and walked into Middlewich via the salt works and along the canal. We got snacks for lunch and on asking a couple of polish locals we got to eat with boots off on the canal viaduct with route set for Chester. I kept asking everyone both ealker and boats if they had come from Chester, this wound up J but I kept doing it. At about 6 we were tow path weiry.All farms seemed to be on the opposite bank and when we attempted to ask at one place all we got an answer from was some angry looking dogs, a horticlture /poly tunneled place was empty also but a stand pipe filled our water containers and we opted to pitch in the sun on the tow path by bridge 7 later we found out was called Jackson bridge. We sat outside the tent chatting until dark watching the sun set at 9. Into a snug tent, a tea and sleep by 9.45.

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