I've followed a lot of cliff paths over the years: some smooth, some nervous, and a handful that have ended in that hollow, unstable crunch that tells you the ground beneath your feet is giving way. Crossing a collapsing cliff path is one of those situations you hope never to face, but if you walk Britain's wild edges often, it's a risk worth preparing for. Here I share what I look for on approach, how I make safe decisions, and the immediate steps I take if a path starts to fail beneath me.
Reading the cliff before you step
Before you even consider crossing a narrow cliff-top path, take a moment to stop and observe. I’ll often pause a good 20–30 metres back, turn my body so I can view the line of the path and the cliff face beneath it, and use my binoculars or camera telephoto to scan for subtle signs of instability.
Key signs I watch for:
If more than one of these signs is present, I treat the section as suspect and look for an alternative. The best decision is always to avoid walking the compromised line entirely.
Deciding whether to cross
Decision-making is mostly about risk versus reward. Ask yourself: how narrow is the path? How far above the drop is it? What’s the consequence of a slip? I use a simple mental checklist:
When in doubt, I choose the conservative option. You can always find another route or come back with a safer plan. On several occasions I’ve walked several hundred metres inland and found a safer way along a field edge or farm track that avoided the worst of the cliff.
How I cross a narrow or suspect cliff path
If I determine the crossing is acceptable, I treat it like a short exposed scramble. My movements are slow, deliberate, and I use a few simple techniques to reduce the chance of triggering collapse or losing my balance:
On icy or muddy days I use microspikes (I’ve used Kahtoola MICROspikes) and alpine-style gaiters to maintain traction. A pair of lightweight trekking poles (Black Diamond Trail Pro, for example) is indispensable — they extend your balance points and allow you to probe for voids below the turf.
What to do if the path starts to collapse under you
There’s an instinct to move quickly away from a crumbling edge, but panicked, fast moves often worsen the situation. If the ground begins to fail beneath you, follow these steps:
I once watched a piece of turf peel away like the edge of a carpet beneath a partner while we were photographing a nesting fulmar. He sat down, kept weight back, and shuffled inland on his bum; it was the easiest and safest move. Quick thinking and a calm voice helped more than strength.
If someone falls or becomes stranded
If you witness someone slip over the edge or become stranded on a fallen ledge below, call the coastguard immediately and provide as much location detail as you can. Do not attempt a rescue that puts you at equal risk — cliffs are a frequent cause of lethal secondary accidents.
Actions I take while awaiting professional rescue:
Kit to carry that improves safety
Over the years I’ve refined a short “cliff-aware” kit list that I tuck into my daypack:
Working with landowners, paths officers and coastguard
If I discover a dangerous section of path, I report it. Local councils and National Trails teams need that intel to place signs or close lines. I take photos, note OS grid refs, and contact the local authority or the National Park. If there’s immediate danger, call the coastguard; they can coordinate cliff rescue teams and issue public warnings.
One of the best actions any walker can take is to plan ahead: check local access updates, read tide tables on coastal walks, and allow extra time so poor light doesn’t force risky decisions. Nature on the edges is dramatic and changeable — that’s the draw — but respect for the forces shaping that drama keeps us walking another day.
