Today brings a double milestone for those in England and Wales who find the open air rather more enticing than the sofa. It is twenty-five years since the Countryside and Rights of Way Act 2000 marched through Parliament and twenty years since its promised freedoms finally reached the boots of the public. Since then, the way we tread upon our hills and moors has changed with all the subtlety of a cavalry charge.
Perfection was never its strong suit. One need only look at this spot I found today, chosen to illustrate one of the Act’s more curious idiosyncrasies. I am standing on Open Access land, yet that marshy patch between the berry-laden hawthorns hides the old reservoir of Roseberry Ironstone Mine which is, by the magic of bureaucracy, not Open Access. The boundary is invisible, though the hawthorns probably mark what was once a sensible hedge line before the paperwork brigade had their say.
When the Act became law on 30 November 2000, campaigning groups who had been shouting since the days of the 1896 Winter Hill Mass Trespass, congratulated themselves for finally cracking open the countryside. Before this moment of triumph, the public was largely confined to rights of way, as if wandering beyond a worn path might bring about the end of civilisation.
With CROW came a legal right to wander—but not cycle—across roughly 1.3 million hectares of land designated as open country or registered common land. Mountains, moors, heaths, downs and commons suddenly became the playground of anyone willing to lace up their boots. This great swathe is now known as access land, a phrase that still causes certain landowners to reach for their smelling salts.
Its effects did not stop at the simple business of opening gates that had been shut since the Norman Conquest. The Act strengthened protections for wildlife, improved the management of the rights of way we already possessed, and laid the groundwork for that ambitious marvel, the King Charles III England Coast Path. This winding thread around the nation is nearing completion, though precisely how it intends to leap the Tees estuary from Warrenby to the Seaton Carew Road remains a puzzle fit for a committee of wizards. Still, it promises fresh adventures for those who enjoy a good constitutional.
None of this is flawless. Scotland, with its Outdoor Access Code, does it rather better, in fact a lot better, and Sweden’s Allemansrätten makes the rest of us look like amateurs. Yet these anniversaries remind us that the right to roam was won through grit and determination, not bestowed by kindly chance. If we value these landscapes, from heather moors to coastal paths, we must ensure they remain places where future generations may wander freely, breathe deeply, and marvel at the countryside without needing a solicitor at their side.
Source: David Drake. Countryside and Rights of Way Act 2000 (CROW Act). 13 November 2025. https://naturalengland.blog.gov.uk/2025/11/13/celebrating-25-years-of-the-countryside-and-rights-of-way-act-2000-and-20-years-of-public-access-rights/
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