Next time you visit a public library, go to the reference department and pick an Ordnance Survey map at random. On it you will almost certainly see a dotted line representing a path, marked ‘dismtd rly’ (meaning dismantled railway).

This label crops up like a constantly recurring tombstone, a monument to several thousand miles of railway line torn up during the infamous ‘Beeching Axe’ of the early 1960s. The Technical Director of I.C.I. had been given the job of making Britain’s outdated and war-ravaged railways profitable, in the face of increasing competition from road transport. Dr Richard Beeching was appointed by the Transport Minister Ernest Marples (who, no doubt coincidentally, had a background in road construction).

Today, with ever-worsening road traffic congestion, a growing number of people are beginning to wonder if Dr Beeching swung his axe too widely. Whatever the rights and wrongs of those momentous days in our recent history, the fact is that we do have these vast lengths of path all over the country, so we may as well enjoy them.

Many will recently have seen the excellent series Railway Walks on BBC TV, presented by Julia Bradbury. A wide variety of landscapes was covered, all of which once echoed to the sounds of steam locomotives but are now silent – peaceful havens mostly well away from modern urban bedlam. Some of the places, like Barmouth in Wales and Portland in Dorset, would be familiar to holidaymakers, some of whom would remember seeing the trains during their childhood and today have the opportunity to follow their journeys on foot.

The possibilities presented by this extensive network of paths are almost unlimited. I’ve been exploring them for 35 years – a disused railway can provide a short afternoon stroll or a week’s hike. They snake through city suburbs and across isolated moors. They hug fabulous stretches of coastline and weave their way through stunningly beautiful valleys in some of Britain’s wildest landscapes. Some are thick with undergrowth and all but impenetrable, but most are readily accessible. The wrecking spree of the early ‘60s may have removed all traces of the rails, but the cuttings and embankments will endure for centuries. In the nature of railway lines, they are conveniently level enough to provide a walking surface which anyone can cope with, and some have been converted to extremely popular cycleways. The Tissington Trail in the Derbyshire Peak District is one of the best-known of these, and along with the nearby Manifold Track through the valley of the same name, provides an invaluable tourist amenity.

As I mentioned before, finding an old railway track is not difficult, sadly easy in fact. It’s one of countless activities that has been revolutionised by the Internet. As well as locating a line on the various mapping websites, the freely-available aerial views of the whole country enable us to get a bird’s eye view. Even the untrained eye can immediately spot where a line once disappeared into a tunnel, some of which are now in use as minor roads or farm tracks. One of the most dramatic-looking locations is the junction near Woodford Halse, Northamptonshire. Four routes cross or converge here in a triangle, which looks as impressive at ground level as in the aerial view. As with everywhere else on this country-wide network, however, there is a feeling of sadness for a priceless mass of hard-won infrastructure simply dumped overnight after serving society so well for anything up to 120 years. It’s impossible not to wonder how fewer lorries would be pounding along Britain’s motorways had these railways survived, and who can avoid a flash of guilt at the irony of so many of these old tracks being accessible only by car?

In recent years there seems to have been a near-mania for modernisation, and a tendency to forget or ignore our history. Yes, ‘heritage’ is indeed a major growth industry, but too often consists of clumsy attempts at recreating the past and presenting it like a dumbed-down T.V. documentary instead of simply letting what remains of it speak for itself. A couple of hours walking along a ‘dismtd rly’, coupled with a sufficiently vivid imagination, will provide as worthwhile an experience of this country’s heritage as any gimmicky museum.