How to plan a low-impact cliff walk on the northumberland coast and avoid common erosion hotspots

When I plan a cliff walk on the Northumberland coast I do it with two goals in mind: to experience the drama of the edge and to leave the place no worse than I found it. The coast here is a study in contrasts — long sandy bays, jagged sandstone stacks, grassy headlands and soft, erodible cliffs — and that diversity means some sections cope well with footfall while others are disturbingly fragile. Below I share the practical steps I use to plan low-impact cliff walks, the common erosion hotspots I try to avoid, and the little behaviours and kit choices that make a big difference to both safety and conservation.

Choosing a route: map reading meets local knowledge

First, I start with maps. Ordnance Survey (OS) Explorer maps at 1:25,000 scale show cliff edges, public rights of way and informal paths. I compare those with satellite imagery (Google Maps, Bing) and recent aerial photos when available. On the Northumberland coast the problem is often informal desire lines created by people avoiding fenced paths, so the map gives you the legal lines of travel––which usually also avoid the worst erosion.

I also check local sources: National Trust or local parish websites, notice boards at car parks, and social media groups for recent trail closures or erosion alerts. The Northumberland Coast AONB publishes updates and conservation notices that can flag dune or cliff instability. If I’m planning a longer walk I’ll email or phone a landowner or the local ranger service; they often share where erosion has worsened after storms.

Timing and tides: plan for safety and reduced impact

Tides matter more than most walkers expect. On some stretches you can’t reach the next headland at high tide and people are forced to climb unstable slopes, widening paths and damaging vegetation. I always check tide times and plan to pass narrow foreshore sections at mid or low tide. For the Northumberland coast I use the UK Hydrographic Office tide tables and the free apps that combine tide and sunrise/sunset times.

Seasonality also affects impact. Breeding seabirds like terns and kittiwakes nest on cliff ledges in spring and early summer; seabird colonies are sensitive to disturbance and can abandon nests if people come too close. If my route passes known colonies I either choose a different stretch or keep well back and on established paths. The RSPB and local wildlife trusts often publish bird-nesting alerts for coastal sites.

Spotting and avoiding common erosion hotspots

Some signs suggest a cliff edge is particularly vulnerable. I look out for:

Fresh cracks and slumping: linear fissures, sudden scarps or fresh soil slides indicate recent movement and a higher chance of collapse.

Undercut bases: wave-cut notches mean the cliff can drop without warning.

Vegetation loss: bare soil or trampling paths right along the edge are both symptoms and causes of accelerated erosion.

Informal trails across slopes: multiple switchbacks or braiding on grassy headlands show people are bypassing fences or blocked routes — these areas are often the worst for erosion.

When I see these signs I give the edge a wide berth. That usually means stepping back to the track or moving inland where there’s firmer ground and more vegetation to absorb water and stabilise soil.

Route choices that reduce erosion

I aim to keep my boots on established, durable surfaces. That generally follows a hierarchy:

Designated paths and stone steps: these concentrate wear where it’s manageable.

Coastal paths with reinforced surfaces: often placed on high-use stretches for that reason.

Grassland away from the immediate edge: softer on the eye but more stabilising for soil if walkers stick to it rather than creating new lines.

Sandy foreshore: walking on the beach distributes wear, provided you avoid nesting areas and saltmarshes.

Where a path approaches a fragile cliff I’ll move inland along a parallel track rather than following the faint line at the top. It might add a few minutes, but it preserves the cliff and reduces the chance of a hazardous collapse.

Group size, dogs and behaviour

Smaller groups mean smaller impacts. If I’m planning a walk with others I limit numbers on narrow paths and choose a route wide enough for safe social spacing. I brief everyone before we set off about sticking to the path, keeping noise low near wildlife, and acting as a single file on narrow ledges rather than straddling the edge.

Dogs are part of many coastal walks, but they can cause concentrated disturbance by chasing birds or running along the cliff top. I keep dogs on a short lead near cliffs, dunes and breeding bird areas. In practice that means using a comfortable, secure lead of 1–2 metres rather than a long extendable one in sensitive zones. If a shorebird colony is present I either find an alternative route or leave the dog at home for that day.

Kit choices that help the place

Good kit keeps you safe and reduces the likelihood of reactive decisions that cause erosion (like scrambling off a path to avoid mud). Key items I carry:

Sturdy, grippy boots: avoid slipping and needless detours. I favour boots with a stable sole and Gore-Tex lining for Britain’s fickle weather.

Trekking poles: they help balance on uneven ground, reduce pressure on knees and can prevent a fall that would force a shortcut across vegetation.

Lightweight waterproof layer: sudden coastal squalls are common; if you stop to put a jacket on you’re less likely to trample the verge in a scramble for shelter.

Map, compass and phone with offline maps: navigation errors cause people to create new paths. Know where you are and where the safe routes lie.

Photography and observation with a light footprint

I photograph the coast obsessively, but I do it without disturbing wildlife or vegetation. A few rules I follow:

Use longer lenses where possible so you don’t have to approach birds to get a shot.

Work from established paths or pre-cleared viewpoints rather than picking a new patch of grass to set up a tripod.

Avoid climbing onto unstable rocks or the absolute cliff edge for a better angle. The view is rarely worth collapsing the cliff below.

Focusing on small details — beach wrack, plant textures, weathered rock — often yields more interesting images and keeps me off fragile ground.

Responding to erosion you encounter on the walk

If I find a seriously eroded or dangerous section I do three things: (1) I withdraw to a safe distance and mark the spot mentally and physically with GPS or a map grid reference; (2) I report it to the relevant authority (National Trust, Northumberland County Council, or the AONB team) with photos and coordinates; (3) I discourage others from using the unstable line by pointing out safer alternatives. Reporting helps rangers prioritise repairs or signage, and discouraging use reduces further damage.

How local conservation work helps — and how you can support it

Many erosion problems are being tackled through dune stabilisation, managed retreat, and path reinforcement schemes. Organisations like the Northumberland Coast AONB, local trusts, and volunteer groups often run habitat-restoration projects and path maintenance days. If you love these places consider:

Joining a local conservation volunteer day — it’s practical and you learn where impact is worst.

Donating to small trusts that fund fencing, boardwalks and signage.

Sharing responsible routes online and flagging erosion hotspots so others don’t inadvertently widen them.

The Northumberland coast is resilient, but only if we walk it thoughtfully. Small choices — giving the cliff top a few metres of space, planning around tides, keeping dogs under control, using proper kit and reporting damage — add up. They let me keep returning to the edges I care about, seeing how they change across seasons, and photographing them without accelerating their decline.