Friday, June 4th.       7miles.    Oswaldtwistle.

   What am I doing here?  In  the middle of a field halfway to a trig point on Duckworth Hill with a farmer cursing us for trampling his private land. We retreat to placate him, fortunately I know most of his family and acquaintances, so after some gentle banter he leaves us to the futile pursuit of visiting trig points. We visit point 217 m and complete the day of a triple of trig points on these West Pennine Moors. Incidentally, not all were  necessarily on the highest ground in the vicinity. It wasn’t my idea, but it actually provided an enjoyable walk, yes you’ve guessed it, I’m out with Sir Hugh again.

Sir Hugh on Duckworth Hill, 217 m, Pendle in the background.

Our meeting place at Immanuel Church turned out to be a large car park for our sole use. The first helpful bystander we met was cutting the cemetery grass, he suggested a route beyond our comprehension but visiting a splendid waterfall. After a brief walk in the wrong direction, we eventually reached open ground. Today most stiles and paths were adequately marked, any diversions were our mistakes. The wind turbines on Oswaldtwistle Moor watched our progress all day. At Jackhouse, an old farmhouse, we received more directions this time including a nature reserve.

Immanuel’s graveyard and our first ‘guide’

Danger ahead…

Jackhouse and our second ‘guide’

It being a sunny day we decided to visit the said reserve and walk around the lake. Unfortunately, we took our own path through the undergrowth, a waterfall was passed, and then further progress was impossible, an escape route was taken to find the correct path. This was pleasant with views over the lake, a former mill feeder. Onwards through a cluster of barn conversions, Cockerly Fold.

The ‘wrong’ waterfall.

Escaping from the jungle.

A better view of the nature reserve lake.

A barn being converted in situ.

We disturbed a lady sunbathing at Cocker Lumb Cottage, no picture this time. Cocker Lumb is the beck coming down this valley. Not many people come this way and she suggested heading for “the trees up there” – there was of course a profusion of arboreal growth. Rough meadows followed, in fact most of the land up here could be classified as rough meadow with little modern agricultural use, hence the profusion of horsey establishments. I’ve no idea how most residents arrive at their remote houses, there are many rough lanes which must communicate with the outside world.

Cocker Lumb.

Hidden houses.

Down by the beck  a concrete obelisk in a field took our notice, it seemed to have a plaque on one side. There was no way of entering the field so we had to be content with futile zoom shots and  futile internet research later.

Our unknown obelisk.

An unavoidable but short stretch along a busy road and we were at Mt. Pleasant Farm and our first trig point of the day, 308m.  There wasn’t anything aesthetically pleasing about its position.

308 m – we didn’t investigate the blue thing.

An easy stroll took us across Accrington Moor alongside a golf course, Green Haworth, with lots more stables and horse enclosures all around. A little lateral thinking had us into the field containing our next trig but to our amazement it was totally enclosed by a fence keeping the horses away from a large manure pile. It didn’t take Sir Hugh long to breach the defences and claim 257m. 

Accrington Moor.

Green Haworth course.

Accrington in the valley.

a pile of ….

Our intrepid trig raider.

Getting out of the field meant following the boundary until a gate appeared. The one we used brought us out onto the road exactly opposite our onward footpath. It was time for lunch. Lanes took us back into the outskirts of Ossie where a large litter pick up was in progress, one lady was in Whams Brook unearthing all kinds of treasure. A wander around the graveyard and we were back at our car park after about five hours fresh air, there is more to visiting trig points than you realise.

Stiles -ancient and modern.

A remaining mill.

Classic mill terrace.

Rubbish gathering.

Immanuel Church.


On the way home I drove over Longridge Fell and was surprised to see a parapenter circling and landing in the field above the caravan park. He had glided over from Parlick, 5 miles away, and was trying to reach his home in Longridge. He was pleased with himself and packed up to walk home to ride his bike back to Chipping to collect his car. I’ve never seen anyone land here before, but he told me he made it to Scarborough on one occasion.

Coming in to land above Craig Y Longridge.



    What a good day, especially your treat at the end. I’d forgotten about our second guide and had him mixed up with the first so my chronology is a bit out of order. I spent ages doing the post and lost some photos on the way eventually losing the will to go back and start again. I think I saved them to some unknown file or folder – they will turn up one day, probably in a folder containing photos of a bike I put on Ebay years ago which is only likely to be opened by mistake.


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