Author Archives: bowlandclimber

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – MORE OF THOSE LONG LONELY BOWLAND MILES.

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                                                                      Catlow Fell and Bowland Knotts.

 

Mark Sutcliffe’s Chapter 4.  Bowland Knotts and Cross of Greet.

Driving the lanes to Slaidburn once more and this time taking the continuation towards the Tatham Fells to park at the Cross of Greet Bridge, deep in Bowland. The last time I started a walk from here along the River Hodder, November 2020, the whole area was waterlogged and virtually impassable.  I am hoping for better conditions today after a few dry days. It’s a Bank Holiday weekend, yet I’m the only car parked up by the river.P1010901

I skip across the marshy area and have no problem fording the stream this time. The walk-up to the isolated barn goes well. A barn owl is disturbed as I peep inside, it flies off, and the chicks go quiet. I don’t hang about. Outside was a rusting lime spreader manufactured locally in Clitheroe ? Vintage 1960.

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The infant Hodder.


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Kearsden Brook ford.


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The Hodder gathering pace.


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The barn.


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Abode of owls.


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Atkinson Spreader, Clitheroe.

The way onto Pike Side is rather vague, and I end up following sheep tracks and even sheep. I realise that somewhere I have gone wrong arriving at an old lime kiln next to the wall, SD 725591. There are shake holes marked on the map, so there must be underlying limestone near about. With a bit of rough ground I regain the route by the gate, SD 723593. There are the ruins of an old barn here, and I follow the straight access track all the way to the road at Bowland Knotts, although at times it disappears underwater.

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Sheep track.


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Limekiln  SD 725591. 


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Gateway. SD 723593.


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To the road at Bowland Knotts.

There are craggy outcrops either side of the road and some are suitable for bouldering.  I find a seat not far off the road for lunch with Ingleborough in full view.

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Roadside bouldering in Yorkshire.


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Roadside bouldering in Lancashire.


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Peggy and John Phillips seat.

Tracks follow the wall westwards towards a trig point, 430 m,the highest point of the Bowland Knotts also recorded as Crutchenber Fell, a ladder stile crosses to it. This is a rough tramp, but there are good, if hazy, vistas into Yorkshire, Stocks Reservoir, Pendle and the Bowland Hills.

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Crossing to Crutchenber Fell.


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Trig 430 m.


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Bowland Knotts.

I stay on the south side of the wall for the undulating mile to the next feature, Cold Stone Crag. There is a path of sorts. There is climbing on this remote crag, but I doubt if many come this far, you might as well boulder back at the road. On one occasion I made the boggy walk in to photograph the crag for a new guidebook, only to arrive after the sun had moved round. The process was repeated the next day at an earlier hour. From up here the whole of the Pendleside panorama is visible.

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Forever onwards alongside the wall and a gentle climb up to a height of  486 m, no cairn denotes the ‘summit’. The miles are long up here. An undecipherable boundary stone is encountered. The maps vary on the name of the hill – Great Harlow, Hailshowers Fell, Raven Castle or perhaps Catlow Fell.

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Catlow or Hailshowers Fell.


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Boundary Stone – Lancs/Yorks.


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Ravens Castle stones?

A little farther and a fence line leads me down to the road at the Cross of Greet. By the cattle grid is a large stone with a shallow square hole in the top. It stands at the Lune/Ribble watershed. formally the Lancs/Yorks border and may have had in the past a stone cross inserted into it.  Or was it a plague stone? nobody knows. I think it’s more likely to have been a cross at an important passage through these remote hills. 

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I chat to some cyclists riding the classic round from Slaidburn. Up to the Cross of Greet, over Tatham Fell past the Great Stone, maybe a brew at Bentham or Clapham and then back over Bowland Knotts, through Gisburn Forest to Slaidburn. I did it once with my mate Tone, never to be forgotten. P1010858

Down the road for 800 m then follow one of the faint paths down to the stream”  Well I’m not sure about the 800 m, and I don’t find any obvious paths. It will be even worse once the all encompassing bracken has grown. But I do find myself down at the Hodder, not the magnificent river it will later become, and hop over to the other side. P1010863P1010864

A slight climb and I am on the brink of an abandoned quarry. Stone from here was transported by rail to build the dam of Stocks Reservoir as the valley was slowly flooded in the 1930s for the Fylde Waterboard. Only the church was saved, stone by stone and rebuilt on higher ground. There is lots of archive material online.  The quarry is atmospheric particularly with the surviving, but rusting dinosaur of a steam crane. P1010868

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At the edge of the quarry is the base of the Far Costy Clough, a worthwhile scramble up onto White Fell I’m lead to believe. Yet another one to add to my list. Another day.P1010880

I’m content to just to follow the old rails  out of the quarry back to the  Cross of Greet Bridge. Another longish day out in Bowland.P1010885

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***

CaptureCross of Great (3)

RURAL RAMBLING – BROCK’S BOTTOM.

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After last week’s heroics in the high Bowland Fells, today was a gentle rural walk. My son suggested a walk for his day off. Where? I asked. “What about Brock Bottoms, I’ve not been there for years”  I’m writing it up as a 4-mile walk, some of you may want to follow, a perfect evening stroll.

We used to take the boys along the Brock getting on for 50 years ago, so I’m pleased he still has it in his mindset. (I must have done something right in their upbringing) I remember paddling down the stream to the remains of the mill in the valley all those years ago, not for us the riverside path. I have written before on the history of the mill – Brock Mill was once a thriving water-driven cotton spinning mill with up to twenty cottages in the valley for the workers.  The mill was probably built in the 1790s. After a chequered history and two reincarnations as a roller making factory, and then a file making factory the mill finally closed in the 1930s. For some time, the ground floor of the mill operated as a café, whilst the top floor was used for dancing on Saturday nights! 

What will we find today?

Along with my son Chris, I’ve enlisted Mike for a short walk with promises of a curry afterwards. Surprisingly, the picnic car park at Higher Brock Bridge itself is quiet. What a contrast from those Covid days when every space was taken by cars isolating from each other.

A few dog walkers are around, but within 200 m of the car park, we meet no one else. The water level is very low, reflecting the recent dry spell. I seem to think the path has been ‘improved’ over the years. Lots of wild garlic, fading bluebells, stitchwort, red campions, hawthorn and other Spring blossoms deserve our attention. The valley is very steep-sided along here.

We leave the main path to explore the ruins of Brock Mill. Until now, we have been walking along the line of the mill race or Leat.  There is little left to see. Where were the associated cottages? Where was the main wheel? All is jungle with Himalayan Balsam taking over. P1010712P1010717

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Rather than go back to the main path, we struggle along on a riverside trail, not recommended. Once out into the open meadows, the going is easier, and we soon reach the elegant Walmsley Bridge. For some reason, the road is blocked, yet everything appears to be in order with the bridge. It was only when we walked up the lane that we found a landslide that had taken half the road down into the Brock. It could be a while before this lane is reopened, fortunately no premises have been cut off. P1010724P1010726

At the corner, we take a farm lane I’ve never used before. The farm turns out to be massive agricultural sheds in a modern manner. A traditional cockerel guards the approach, but the path goes around the edge of the buildings with little fuss, no doubt an unofficial diversion, but no problem. The farmhouse itself is named Throstle Nest, with one of its barns converted into a luxury living space. The access lane soon has us back on the minor road. P1010727P1010729P1010730

A bridleway could have taken us back down to Brock Bottom, but we stay on the quiet road for half a mile, passing some delightful Lancashire farmhouses. Another footpath I haven’t used before takes us straight through fields below Beacon Fell onto the lane, which drops us back down to the picnic spot where we are the only car remaining. P1010733

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A very pleasant 4-mile round through the Lancashire countryside.

The hastily put-together curry supper was a success as well.

***

CaptureBrock

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – REMOTE BOWLAND.

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I’m running out of titles for my series of walks in Bowland as set out by Mark Sutcliffe in his Walking In Lancashire book. He has certainly covered the area well. Highest, Best of, Heart of,  and today Remote or even the Remotest…  How many of you have been to Wolfhole Crag  or Whitendale Hanging Crags? This is a long post I’m afraid – it was a long day.

I enjoy the familiar drive into the hills with the roof down. Along the Hodder Valley; farmers busy silage cutting in the fields; over the Roman road with views to Ingleborough; down to picturesque Newton; along to stately Slaidburn and up Woodhouse Lane to my parking place just before the fell gate. I say my parking place as it was a regular spot when we were developing the bouldering potential of Croasdale’s Bullstones all those years ago. Not many drive up this far, but Mark mentions the single space, there is a little more back down the lane.

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Newton on the Hodder.

The hike up the rough Hornby Road, a Roman Road again, (aka Salter Fell Track) has been done dozens of times and I pass familiar landmarks. The war memorial to airmen lost on these fells; the ancient sheep folds and bothy down in Croasdale where I have stayed with my grandson; the culvert where one can still see the Roman workmanship; the large quarry where the peregrines nest; the bridge where the road has been saved from sliding into the valley; the Tercet stone demarking the Lancashire Witches fateful route to the assizes in Lancaster;  over to the right the bouldering playground of Bullstones and later the vague track dropping into upper wild Whitendale. P1010473

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Along here somewhere I meet two RSPB workers checking on nesting Hen Harriers. It is good the birds have returned and let’s hope more survive the persecution by the shooting fraternity this year. No photos and as they say on the news “their anonymity and location have been protected”  The road goes on over the watershed.P1010503

After four miles I leave the road for another four miles of mostly trackless and waterlogged ground. Mark says “the next stretch is very boggy and needs careful negotiation” Go no farther if you are unsure or if the weather is bad. This is remote country with no easy escape routes. My walking poles disappear into the mire quickly followed by my boots. Jack be nimble. It is not so bad – I survived. There is beauty there if you look closely.P1010534P1010536P1010541P1010540

P1010539P1010535If I close my eyes I could be at the seaside, the sound of gulls is everywhere. I think they are Black Backed, Great or Lesser?, a large colony exists up here. I try for a video, more for the sounds than the fleeting fly overs. They are becoming more aggressive, dive-bombing me. I look down and there below my feet is a scrape of a nest with three eggs. Better move on taking extra care where I place my feet. 

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It doesn’t take much to persuade me to take the ‘optional’ diversion to Wolfhole Crag half a mile away. One wouldn’t come this far in good weather and not go to the highest point. There is a trig point, 527 m, and also an interesting collection of gritstone boulders. I can’t resist a few simple boulder problems, keep them simple as you don’t want to break an ankle up here. The longer routes look fearsome. Somewhere there is a shallow cave in the rocks – the original wolf hole. P1010552P1010559

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A good place to eat my sandwich, wish that had been two as the day panned out. All around – The Lakes, Yorkshire Three Peaks and most of East Lancashire. Pendle is always visible. All a little hazy in today’s heat. P1010578

Walking back down the fence line, no navigation needed, is not easy because of more bogs. Maybe it is better on the other side, No it isn’t I tried. White Crag is nothing but a few boulders. Whitendale Hanging Stones are not much bigger. But according to the gravitational method to establish Britain’s centre of gravity  OS calculated that the geographical centre of the British Isles, including Islands, lies at SD 6419 5654 virtually where I’m stood. I’m too weary to take it in. In fact as I drop down very steeply I’m just too pleased to see the small tarn on the col between Brennand and Whitendale. The walls and fences aren’t too easy to negotiate. I lose even more height as I descend to the Duchy farm at Whitendale where my route ahead climbs back up zigzags for 800ft onto Dunsop Fell. P1010614P1010609

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White Stones.

 

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Whitendale Hanging Stones, centre of Britain.

 

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My way down.

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Small mammal traps remind me I’m on shooting lands, the hunting class have some barbaric practices. P1010637P1010636

I collapse onto a wall at the farm, nobody is about, I’m even wondering if I should phone my son for a cop-out evacuation, but a drink and a banana fortify me for the final stage. Thankfully once back on a stony trail my steps become stronger, and I push on up.  The trail disappears into peat, but there are some posts and cairns to guide me to Dunsop Head, a vague col with a wall, gate and another of those crafted signs. Looking at the map and the terrain I realise I’ve never been on Baston Fell to the north, today is not the time to visit. Let’s just get down.  

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My way back up.

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Looking back down to Whitendale with Hanging Stones above somewhere.

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Go east across more bog. By the time Stocks Reservoir comes into view you are almost home and dry, although your feet are probably wet by now. Eventually the bridleway becomes more visible as a sunken way and the airmen’s memorial appears. There is my car down the lane with Pendle still watching over us. Seven hours of remote walking, one to talk about in the pub later.  

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***

CaptureWolfhole. (2)

A GREENER FULWOOD.

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You may remember my March walk in the woods of Fulwood. That was an exploratory walk discovering many green spaces, several of them managed by the Woodland Trust. My comment at the time was “What must it be like when the bluebells are out and the trees showing much more greenery?” 

Well now was the time to find out. I also wanted to create a more accessible route taking in the best woods and avoiding roads as much as possible and perhaps write a small definitive guide to the chosen route.

I was weary from climbing at Kemple End yesterday, so I only wanted a short walk. The sunny afternoon was ideal for this Fulwood circuit of about 7 K. 

Since my visit in March the trees have certainly greened up and most are in full leaf giving dappled lighting. Oak, Sycamore, Beech, Chestnut, Birch, Ash and Wild and Bird Cherry were all present. P1010357

The bluebells were flowering in profusion, most were English Bluebells, Hyacinthoides non-scripta, as opposed to the Spanish ones, Hyacinthoides hispanica, although some were possibly hybrids. P1010308

Here is what the NT has to say about bluebells – 

It is fairly easy to tell the difference between English and Spanish bluebells, but the hybrids can be trickier as they take characteristics from both

Flower and stem.  The individual bells of the native bluebell are narrow with straight sides and have petals which curl back at the edges. The stem is curved, with most of the bells hanging to one side. The bells of Spanish bluebells are more cone-shaped and their petals tend to flare rather than curl back. The stems are more upright, with bells hanging all round. Native bluebells are usually a deep blue-violet shade, while Spanish ones tend to be paler. Confusingly, both varieties can also come in white and pink.

Pollen colour.  Look at the pollen inside the flower. If it’s creamy-white then the bluebell is probably native (or a hybrid). If the pollen is green or blue, it’s not native.

Scent.  Native bluebells have a strong, sweet scent, which makes the woods smell amazing on a warm day. The Spanish variety has little to no scent.

Leaves.  Native bluebells have relatively narrow leaves, around 1–1.5 cm wide. Spanish and hybrid bluebells tend to have much bigger leaves, around 3 cm wide.

Apart from the bluebells there were many other flowers showing themselves. I still haven’t found a decent identification app that works with my ageing phone.P1010232

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Mason’s Wood is a wonderfully secluded valley, Wild Garlic pervading the air throughout.

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I continued on the public footpath alongside Savick Brook to try and find a way back by Sandy Brook avoiding the busy Eastway. All routes were private and hidden behind locked gates.  I tried my best and had to return to the path alongside Preston Golf Club, whose course was looking immaculate. I suppose we forget the importance of green spaes provided by golf courses in cities. Mark Twain famously said “Golf is a good walk spoilt” but now it  looks like “a good ride spoilt”.P1010333P1010338

Crossing Eastway was braved, there is no obvious way without it, and I finished the walk along the delightful Sandy Brook back to Fulwood Row. P1010381P1010383

Lots of green spaces and I think I have my possible guide to them almost complete. I will post it here whenever.

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CaptureFULWOOD (2)

SOME CHOICE CLIMBING.

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We are back at our secret crag, the sun is shining and all’s well. The day passes, and four new climbs are accomplished. All on beautiful clean rock, each one a different style and difficulty. I can’t tell you more, but all will be revealed soon.

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CYCLING TO GLASSON AGAIN.

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The hills were in low cloud late into the morning, including Hutton Roof which we explored a couple of days ago. But it didn’t matter – today was for cycling. I was hoping the lady would be in the Halton car park with her coffee wagon, but no sign of her. I hope she returns this summer, Last year I looked forward to her cheerful smile and cheap coffee as I drove up the motorway.

Rather than the round trip to Morecambe I think I’ll have an easy day and just go to Glasson Dock and back on the old railway. The fragrance of the hawthorn flowers hits me as I get out of the car. There are very few people about in the rather gloomy conditions. But the day brightens up by the time I reach Glasson. The usual collection of motorcycles and their ageing drivers around the fish and chip van. As always I choose to cross the bridge to the shop on the other side of the harbour. They normally have a good supply of freshly baked pasties and pies but alas today the van has broken down and none have arrived. I have to contend with a chocolate éclair which goes perfectly with my coffee.  P1010194

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There are usually some locals sitting outside and today was no exception. I catch up on the news.

The sunken boat that has been in the marina for years was lifted, but by some cowboys who kept lifting as it came out of the water rather than let it drain. Most of it then broke up under the force and went back down to the bottom in pieces.

The pub on the other side of the harbour, The Victoria, has been closed for years and is looking in a sad state, but there are plans to reopen it as a pub once more. We shall see. The locals don’t have a lot to say about The Dalton Arms tucked away around the corner.

Next to the shop The Smoke House people have built a retail outlet for their products but are having trouble installing the heavy-duty electricity need for the freezers. Once open I’m sure this will be a popular shop with the tourists who flock to Glasson in the summer.

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The new Smoke House shop.

The ride back is uneventful, it’s about a 20-mile round trip. The tide had come in whilst I’d been away. The Millennium Bridge over the Lune and Ashton Memorial were looking good in the afternoon sunshine.  P1010208P1010210P1010211

I spend the rest of the afternoon drinking tea in the sunshine at Over Kellett with longstanding friends.

HUTTON ROOF.

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As I write this today, with the rain coming down, yesterday’s welcome sunshine seems a distant memory. After several Lancashire walks taken directly from a guide book it was time to visit a different area and plan a route for myself in hopefully contrasting scenery. It worked out better than expected.

We were up the motorway out of Lancashire and into Cumbria, but only just. Not the Lakes but a quiet corner hidden away in the extreme south of the county. In the past I travelled here often to climb and boulder on Hutton Roof crags, beautiful sculptured limestone in the exquisite landscape above Dalton. It was time for a revisit and going over the map the night before I came up with a circuit including the summit trig point which I had not knowingly visited before, my focus then being primarily on the climbing area. It’s complicated up here with several ‘rakes’ of rock running across the fell, presumably fault lines in the limestone, creating miniature walls of rock. Paths are everywhere, but don’t always go anywhere and once the bracken is up it’s like finding your way through a maze.

I phoned Mike at a respectful time in the morning to see if he fancied a walk, but he was due to visit family on this Coronation weekend. Maybe I should therefore go for a longer walk in Bowland? Before long however he phoned back to say he thought, taking advantage of the good weather, he would postpone family to another day. I outlined my planned walk with only vague ideas of how we would navigate across the limestone plateau. Sandwiches hurriedly made we set off.

It was almost noon when we parked up in Burton-in-Kendal, but this worked to our advantage as the misty morning had given way to bright sunshine and blue skies. The first pleasant surprise was the old bridleway, Slape Lane, leading out of the village. A Panoramic Viewpoint has been erected  to honour Queen Elizabeth’s Golden Jubilee in 2002, the distant Lakeland Hills depicted were unfortunately hazy in reality. At least closer at hand Farleton Fell appeared prominent. P1010122

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Between hedges and walls the bridleway snaked slowly up the open fell side, first through farmland and then into forestry. Our attention was taken with the spring flowers and the unidentified bird song in the trees.

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Cumbria Wildlife Trust seem to have a hand in managing the woodlands and provide helpful information boards and permissive paths going who knows where. We stuck to the bridleway which came out onto a short stretch of road leading to a col where the Limestone Link footpath crosses Farleton Fell on its way from Kirkby Lonsdale to Arnside or vice versa. Nearby Newbiggin Crags look worthy of exploring.P1010132P1010133P1010136

Turning right we followed the footpath through coppiced woodlands and then onto more open limestone fell. Purple Orchids sporadically appeared giving a splash of colour. What a place for our lunch, looking out over fertile farmland and farther into Cumbria and the distant Howgill Fells. P1010154

I knew, or thought I did, my way to the climbing area, marked as The Rakes on the map. Soon we spotted climbers along the edge. Most were doing roped routes, and we stopped to watch for a while – what a perfect afternoon for them. Can you spot South America? P1010161

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Now for the difficult bit. There was a path leading away from The Rakes which I thought might take us to the trig point, but it kept going down. Trying to make a straight line back up the hill was impossible across the shrub covered limestone blocks. Not wanting to break a leg we surrendered and back tracked on the path we had come in on. This brought us back to our lunch spot! I glossed over this by praising the weather and suggesting to Mike it was good training for him, he’s off to the Amalfi Coast in a couple of weeks. We struck off on a higher path heading in the right direction only to find it twisting and turning through the rocks. Forward visibility was obscured by the vegetation, one just had to keep going the most obvious way. Junctions caused some serious discussion, but we might as well just have tossed a coin. A runner appeared coming in our direction, on asking him if he had come from the trig point he looked baffled obviously not recognising the term. Onwards. A well-used path came up from  the valley, so we joined it. A couple of dogs came past us followed by their owner who gave the impression of knowing the way but in fact this was her first time too. We followed the dogs and suddenly came out on to the more open top with the summit trig clearly visible.P1010177

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A true 360 degree viewpoint, now with Ingleborough coming out of the cloud.  The Bowland Hills were clearer than the Lakes. Morecambe Bay was a silver shimmer and one could see Blackpool Tower through binoculars if you wished. I don’t seem to have taken may picture at the top. It would be worth getting up here early one morning in the crisp air to make the most of the visibility. And what sunsets you could witness.  P1010183P1010184

If we didn’t get a move on we might have been seeing one of those sunsets. But once into Dalton Hall’s woods the forest tracks lead us unerringly down to a lane through the few houses of Dalton and down eventually to Burton. P1010189

It was 6 o’clock back at the car – oh well I could forget about cutting the lawn.

What an exceptional walk this turned out to be. On reflection, I see on the map public footpaths from Dalton that would have taken us to Burton without the road walking, maybe next time as I’m sure there will be a next time.

***

Capturehuttonroof

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – East is east.

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Walk 37. Weets Hill from Barnoldswick.

Barlick, until local government reorganisation in 1974, was in the West Riding of Yorkshire. It then found itself in Lancashire, the locals were not happy and many still see themselves as Yorkshire folk. Back in the day, until 1992, you had to be born in Yorkshire to play cricket for the county and I seem to remember special dispensations being given to players from Gisburn/Barnoldswick area when they were in Lancashire. Or was that just a rumour at the time. I do remember well however White Rose flags flying defiantly in Gisburn as you drove through.

None of this has any relevance to today’s walk except to point out we are in the far east of the county where Lancashire mills give way to Yorkshire dales. A 10-mile day of easy navigation, gentle gradients, canal towpaths, a Trig point and lots of fields. Stick with it – there is plenty of interest.

I approached the recommended Greenber Field car park down the narrowest of lanes, I was almost giving up when it suddenly appeared hidden in the trees. On my return I took a wider road, the B6252, back into Barnoldswick and I would recommend that as your approach. Unfortunately the café on site was closed due to staffing shortages, a common problem of hospitality in these strange times. That’s the second day in a row I have been deprived of my coffee. Still the day was promising with warm sunshine and blue skies.

I set off with enthusiasm along the canal towpath on the edge of town. Easy strolling with lots of friendly and well-behaved dog walkers, pram pushers and cyclists. I passed three of the prominent manufacturers in town – Rolls-Royce, Silent Night beds and  Esse stoves. All but one of the many cotton mills have gone. The canal was busy with boaters. On my longer canal walks I often try to pick out the most humorous, or more likely corniest, boat name of the day, Mr. Grumpy won today. All making for an enjoyable start to my day’s walk.P1000990P1000987P1000991P1000997

In fact the morning was disappearing fast – made more so by an extended chat with an enthusiastic walker. We got onto the subject of the Lake District which he seems to have just discovered. Out came his phone with pictures of Coniston, Helvellyn and Scafell etc, many in selfie mode. I had to make my excuses to get under way again. 

Once I had left the canal I saw virtually no one else for the rest of the day. 

My way up onto White Moor was mainly on well surfaced bridleways, that PBW again. As height was gained the views opened up, with my recent ascents of Bouldsworth and Black Hambleton prominent to the south along with the rest of the Pennine Chain, and there was little Blacko Tower. Perhaps I was distracted, but I took to the moors sooner than I should have, up a well trodden track (SD 869 441). On past a plantation obvious on the map, that’s when I realised my mistake, but the track alongside a wall was good, so I just kept going until I was within a stone’s throw of the summit. Birds eye views of Barnoldswick appeared way down below.

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What did I say about easy navigation?  As it happened this was possibly better than the longer way round and up the tarmacked lane to Weets House, it was easy to navigate once I knew I was lost – if you follow my logic. 

The summit was adorned with a shiny white Trig Pillar and even better as I was ready for lunch a memorial bench. And what a panorama – the nearby bulk of Pendle, Longridge Fell, the Bowland Hills , Ingleborough and Pen-Y-Ghent and lots more. The Ribble Valley stretching out in front of the hills completed the scene. P1010028P1010029P1010036

It was only after some time sat there enjoying the view that I noticed beneath my feet little plaques set into the soil, each one a memorial to a departed family member whose ashes were no doubt scattered up here. I like the idea of being scattered from one’s favourite hill, but I thought the plaques possibly out of place. No offence to any family concerned who had the wishes of their departed granted.

Time to head down, and I followed the track I should have come up to Weets House, an isolated property as you could wish for. Back on the PBW I headed north wondering who had travelled this way in the past centuries attending to their trades. Miners, pack horses, farmers, soldiers?  The map depicts ‘ancient earth works’ from early times and there is a Roman Road crossing my track at one point. P1010042P1010049P1010048

A quiet road, Brogden Lane, winds down the hillside past upland sheep farms and comes to a right angle corner at The C18th Manor House, what you see from the lane is actually the back of the house. A ford then leads to Brogden Hall.  That was my way and I circled around what is a large equestrian centre with only a glimpse of the hall itself. Out into the fields I crossed a motor cross circuit – the penny dropped I have been here before. It was when I was walking the West Craven Way in 2015. P1010054P1010053P1010055

The pastures were full of deep grass which surprisingly makes walking through it tiresome. It’s that time of the year when the dairy herds are let out for some proper food. Passed a reservoir, and I was into a field with one of the largest herds of cattle I’ve encountered. They can be frisky at this time of year and being cautious I took to a path on the other side of the wall. After my minor trespass I was back on route up a slope now with grazing sheep and their lambs. I couldn’t resist a spring lamb photo, or two. Can’t you just taste that luscious grass? P1010059P1010063P1010068P1010069

I worked my way through the gardens of some nouveau riche house, their garden furniture was more stylish than my lounge. I’m not jealous, but it set me wondering if they were entertaining would you be offered a drink en passant. P1010071P1010072

This was on the edge of the little hamlet of Bracewell where there had been a former hall. The church, St Michael’s, dates back to the C12th but most of the present fabric dates from the C16th, though there is a Norman style arched doorway and apparently inside a Norman font. (it was locked today) For some reason I ignored adjacent Hopwood House and Farm, both grade II listed. But my attention was drawn to the ‘Old Post Office’ with its inscribed plaque, but why on earth did someone build a porch whose tiles obscure that plaque. P1010075P1010077

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I have a gripe with Mark for the next part of his route down the busy and twisty B6251 road. This is dangerous considering the speed of traffic along it. Driving back along that stretch on my return I was behind an articulated lorry doing well over the permitted 40mph, no chance of that stopping quickly. Looking at the map there is a footpath leaving Bracewell to the abandoned village of Stock where there may be earthworks to see. A public footpath from there crossing Stock Beck would bring one back onto the  bridleway route. I wish I had taken that way, which as well as avoiding the dangerous road looks to be of interest in itself. I would recommend you do.

I didn’t, and I had to brave the oncoming traffic for half a mile until I could escape onto a peaceful bridleway. If you look closely at the contours of the countryside here you will see lots of small hillocks. These are drumlins, glacial deposits of boulder clay on the surface limestone. Today with the abundant Spring greenery they took on a magical landscape over which I expected troops of elves to come skipping along. It was however a good place to watch lapwings in their rapid flight.  P1010088 (2)

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The walk ended through Greenber Field Farm. All very neat and tidy but far removed from the farming as I knew it. Massive sheds, computerised cows and not a farmer in sight’. The C18th house itself is Grade II listed.P1010101P1010104P1010105

Well not quite the end as I spent some time watching canal barges come through the lock gates, the summit of the Leeds -Liverpool Canal.  P1010106P1010109

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***

CaptureBarnoldswick.

SPRING ON THE WHEEL.

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It’s peaceful on the Preston Guild Wheel today, there is no wind. Very few people out, not even many dog walkers. I cycle slowly round, not having been on the bike for nearly two months. I’m in no rush and have time to see what Spring is bringing to the route. The woods have greened up since my last visit and bird song is everywhere. It is in the woods, Red Scar in particular on the early part of my circuit, that the floral display has changed. The celandines are fading to be replaced by the spreading sea of bluebells. Wild garlic is looking fresh, and its white flowers are opening up. Patches of cowslips and cuckoo flowers light up more open spaces. The green hawthorn has started to flower, it’s probably time I cast a clout, but the fickle weather changes day by day.  P1000958P1000962P1000970P1000976

The notoriously muddy section at the bottom of the hill as you enter Brockholes Reserve has been drained and a decent hardcore surface created. I call in at the first hide to see what’s happening on the water. I’m not carrying binoculars, but I make use of the shop selling binoculars and telescopes. Their equipment is so much better than my antiquated items. Maybe time for an upgrade, but the assistant baffles me with his enthusiastic technical sales talk. At least I checked out the lake with his powerful scope.

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On alonside the Ribble, through the parks and then the docks. The long drag alongside Blackpool Road went on forever as I pass the nearly finished junction for the Western Link Road. The Guild Wheel now goes under the bridge carrying this road.  P1000978

My favourite café, The Final Whistle on the University’s playing fields, is surprisingly closed. I have to make do with one of their benches for a sit down with some water and a banana. I find the ‘hilly’ sections through Fulwood a bit of a chore and have a few spells of walking. Just over 21 miles in Spring sunshine. 

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE (and a bit of Yorkshire) – On the hoof.

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                                                                               Black Hambledon.

Another skylark day.

I hadn’t decided where to walk this morning but after a bit of faffing I hurriedly opted for a ready-made route, no 39, in Cicerones’s 40 Lancashire walks book by Mark Sutcliffe. It is described as the Reservoirs of Worsthorne Moor, but it is far more; traversing post-industrial landscapes, wild gritstone boulders, trackless moor, endless views and the summit of Black Hambledon, Hoof Stones Height, 479 m. I haven’t knowingly been up Black Hambleton before and today’s route virtually circled it before committing to the top.

It was almost lunchtime when I parked up on The Long Causeway, an ancient route from Pendle through to the Calder Valley, now dominated by wind turbines.  A fell runner was just returning from his morning circuit, there was still a chill in the air. (we’d had a ground frost)

Some of the early tracks I remembered from The Burnley Way done back in 2017. Leaving the wind turbines the way drops down Shedden Clough into an old limestone mining area where they used ‘hushes’, dammed watercourses to uncover the limestone. There was evidence of industrial activity wherever you looked. P1000808

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A man from Salford was exercising his two dogs down by the bridge. He escapes up here for fresh air and tranquillity. The young dogs were having a great time, I think they were pleased to be out of Salford too. A couple of mountain bikers came through and after that I met no one until almost finished. P1000811P1000814

I was on the Pennine Bridleway heading towards Cant Clough Reservoir set deep in the hills. Normally one can go across the dam, but there was maintenance work in progress which meant a  tiresome diversion down the valley and back up again. They were ‘repuddling’ the clay lining, probably the first time since the construction at the end of the C19th. You may remember the 2019 panic when the reservoir dam above Whaley Bridge was put under strain and threatened the area with flooding. P1000829

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In another extensive quarried area I soon left the PBW, for a while anyway, and headed on a smaller path bordering the wild Rams Clough up into the hills towards an unnamed 468 m summit. All was quiet except for the joyous skylarks. I was soon looking back at Cant Clough Reservoir. The path became steeper and rougher – a sign of things to come?

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I reached a bridge in the middle of nowhere carrying the BBW where I managed a photo of a Wheatear which flew from post to post, I remember several of them in this very same place on my Burnley Way outing. P1000848

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Passing into Yorkshire, Gorple Upper Reservoir now came into sight below and there above me the Gorple Stones, which looked as though there would be bouldering possibilities. But how often do you get a day like this up there? P1000855P1000856

Ahead now was the prominent Gorple Buttress. I recall the excitement in the climbing magazines back in 1995 – “John Dunne has climbed an E7 on the jutting prow of Gorple” Walking below it today it looked as impossible as ever, overhanging and slopy, I wondered if anybody has repeated it. Dunne went on to produce an even harder more direct line at E9 three years later. A good spot for lunch gazing down at the remote reservoir and across to Black Hambleton. P1000860

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John Dunne on Eternal E7, cooler day.         David Simmonite.

Stirring myself I was soon down to the dam. Mark’s route goes a little down the valley, towards the lower reservoir, before climbing again, but I spotted a level path getting to the same point by crossing, possibly illegally, the dam  and using the estate’s shooters’ track. Not advised in the killing season. There were some very attractive little gritstone buttresses above that valley, I may need to return. P1000873

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 Gorple Lower Reservoir.

Across the way were the hauntingly fascinating ruins of  C16-17th Raistrick Greave, presumably abandoned when the reservoirs were constructed, around 1930. It had been a large farm and buildings, one suggestion is that it may have been also a stop-over on the local packhorse trails. Reaps Cross is nearby and of course The Packhorse Inn over at Widdop. P1000907P1000915

To be honest I never really picked up the path again. The ground is very rough and tussocky, when I thought I was back on track I usually ended up on a sheep trod going nowhere. I just battled up the hillside keeping to a southerly direction avoiding Clegg Clough for more than one reason. All around was that dry straw-coloured moorland grass so attractive from afar in the winter months. P1000922

Boggy paths started to appear on Hoar Side Moor and I followed one until I hit the fence which I could follow westwards up Black Hambleton at last.  All very bleak and isolated. P1000930P1000933P1000929

The trig point eventually appeared. I found a rock to sit on straddling the Lancashire /Yorkshire boundary. All around were the familiar Pennine Hills. Bowland, Pendle, Ingleborough, Boulsworth, StoodleyPike and many unnamed ones to the south.Way down below I could see a Barn Owl quartering the rough pastures.P1000934

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Pendle in the distance.

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Bench marked rocky seat.

I wish the walk could have ended up here as I never found the proper path off to the southwest, the rough ground making it hard going, and the mile alonside the busy road was scattered with litter.  But ignoring that last hour this had been a stunning walk of variety and remoteness, sorry I was distracted by all those boulders. I was tired by the end.  P1000954

***

  CaptureBlack Hambledon.

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – BOWLAND’S HIGHEST.

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It was alarming that my car radio suddenly switched from Radio Lancashire to BBC Cymru as I turned off the A6 towards Dolphinhome in deepest Lancashire. Had I taken the wrong turning somewhere down the road? it turns out their frequencies are very similar, still a bit strange.  I was on route to the heart of Bowland not Bangor. Tarnbrook’s few houses lie at the end of the road alongside the northern branch of the River Wyre. They are part of the Duke of Westmorland’s vast Abbeystead estate. I’ve covered this area many times before, most recently here in my Cicerone series. Parking along this narrow lane has always been an issue and the estate are discouraging us going past a suitable lay-by at the entry to the valley. I go along with this even though I know of a large grassy verge higher up the lane. These parkings are both  mentioned in Mark Sutcliffe’s walk number 10 onto Ward’s Stone in the Cicerone Lancashire Walks guide book, my objective for today. It looked far off on the horizon.P1000794

What a day, clear blue skies and sunshine. Rare enough in these northern hills. But there is a cool easterly wind blowing even down here as I start my walk along the lane to Tarnbrook. I add a few extra warm garments to my rucksack. The quiet lane runs alongside the Tarnbrook Branch of the River Wyre and its joyful passage keeps my attention on the mile or so morning walk up the valley, and of course the lambs. I pass Ouzel Bridge leading to  a farm. The Ring Ouzel, or mountain Blackbird, is found in the tree lined cloughs in the Forest of Bowland. Will I see any today, I have previously? P1000646P1000647P1000791P1000650

Once into the hamlet I take the concessionary path straight up the fell into open access land, roughly following Tarnsyke Clough. Unfortunately not a Ring Ouzel in sight but there are plenty of lapwings and curlews flying around. This is essentially a Land Rover track to take shooters up to the butts on the fell. In the past, before the CRoW act, it was jealously guarded by the keeper living in the hamlet. Us climbers wanting to go up to the forbidden Thorn Crag, seen up on the right, often resorted to devious tactics, walking up a longer, but permitted, way to the plateau and then dropping down to the crag. We came unstuck one day when my climbing partner uncoiled his new rope, a fluorescent yellow. We could be seen from Blackpool never mind from the keeper’s cottage in Tarnbrook. Session over we would walk boldly down the estate track knowing we would be rudely accosted but also knowing they would have to let us out at the hamlet, stalemate. Things changed with the implication of the access agreement, the same gamekeeper who had sworn at us the last year now wished us a good day. The worm turns. There are no confrontations today and I just plod on upwards at my steady pace. I can’t believe I used to carry a bouldering pad up here. P1000653

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Thorn Crag and boulders.

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Looking back down to Tarnbrook with Hawthornthwaite Fell behind.

I reach the ‘Luncheon Hut’, park your Range Rover here sir. P1000665

Onwards, I ignore the track off to the right and continue on to a division of tracks not specifically stated in the guide. It mentions contouring to the left, I somehow ignore this and  follow the tempting main track upwards to its terminus, SD593578, and then pick up a fainter path linking a series of shooting butts rising up the fell. All very pleasant although the modern butts resemble WW1 fortifications. I am obviously wrong but take a compass bearing on the trig point and climb onwards. With relief the conspicuous weather station up here comes into view, I was then only a few  hundred metres from the summit. It would all be far more difficult in mist. Probably would have been better to stick more closely to Mark’s directions.

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End of the road.

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Old pony track.

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Grouse bunker.

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The Fylde plain and Morecambe Bay lie down below, all a little hazy, as I reach the trig point, 560 m. The Lakes and northern Pennines were imaginary. By now the wind was almost gale force making any movement awkward. Fortunately there is a gritstone boulder, the Ward’s Stone itself, nearby behind which I cowered and added more layers of clothing. I used my spare balaclava to keep my cap from blowing away. Even with two pairs of gloves my hands were frozen. I was the only person out on the fell which was probably good considering my appearance.

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560 m trig with nearby Ward’s Stone.

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Grit Fell to the west and Morecambe Bay.

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Over to Caton wind farm with the Lakes hiding behind.

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Ready for battle at Ward’s Stone.

Half a mile across the sea of peat was another trig point one metre higher, so at 561 m the highest in Bowland. Why there are two so close together I can find no reason. All is Bowland emptiness to the east, except for Ingleborough’s distinctive summit across the  Craven Fault. The book says head for Ingleborough, but I found a vague path going to its right and meeting up with a fence line that comes from nowhere. It’s all too easy in clear weather like today.

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Heading just right of Ingleborough.

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Queen’s Chair.

The going was good to firm on what after rain can be a quagmire of peat. The fence gave way to a wall, which gave me a bit of shelter from the wind. Another fence lead me down the fell. The Three Peaks remained unclear but ahead the remote Wolfstones and White Hill were obvious. These latter two are rarely visited trig points in deepest Bowland. Having said that not a lot of people come this way, the path along Ward’s Stone ridge is not heavily used.

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The wall with Distant Pendle. I was having difficulty holding the camera steady.

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White Hill.

This part of the fell was being used as a seagull roost, and I  was dive bombed a couple of times. Judging from the number of gulls this won’t bide well for vulnerable eggs and chicks of Lapwings or Curlews. P1000736

Suddenly I was onto one of his lordship’s roads coming over the hill from the north. This took me all the way down alongside the upper Tarnbrook Wyre in Gables Clough to the valley bottom. Farmers were busy with their sheep and lambs. P1000759

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In the hamlet the estate houses were being done up for a new lease of life. I remember a few years ago talking to a lovely old gentleman outside his house. He had lived there all his life and was the last resident still there. it will be interesting to see how gentrified the place becomes with new residents moving in. P1000783

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July 2014.

It seemed a long trudge back along the lane to my car. The extra road walking brings the mileage up to 10, more than the 7 1/4  stated in the guide. With hindsight, given the strength of the wind, it would have been an easier day in reverse.

***

This is what you may find on shooting estates. A snare cage trap on a log which is meant to kill predators such as the stoat or weasel. The problem is that other small mammals can easily enter and if the dimensions of the entrance are not correct so can larger animals. All very nasty to my mind. You wouldn’t want to put your hand in one! They make a resounding loud snap if touched with a ski pole.

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***

CaptureBowland

                                                                   BOWLAND.

Capture Wards Stone.

IT’S SPRING AT SIZERGH.

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At 10 o’clock this morning I was stood in a queue waiting for my latest, I’ve lost count of how many, Covid booster. Nervous pleasantries were passed with the vaccinator nurse. I was thankfully not as old as most of the other customers. Never felt a thing. So back out into the Lidl car park on a beautiful sunny morning, no time for shopping, Soon I was home for a delayed breakfast. Despite warnings of possible side effects, take paracetamol and rest, let’s get out and enjoy the Spring weather.

At the back of my mind was a short walk from Sizergh Castle highlighted recently by fellow blogger John Bainbridge and others. Native daffodils in the woods aroused my curiosity. Noon found me parked in the grounds of Sizergh Castle, along with many more. My NT card saved me £9 in parking fees. Not for me the delights of the garden or castle, I strode purposefully upwards. The National Trust here have been at work creating a serviceable path to  Holeslack Farm, under scaffolding but with its original orchard attached. Not many followed me. Wild garlic in profusion. 

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A quiet lane took me up to the church of St. John the Evangelist. Thankfully it was open, and I was able to get a good view of the stained-glass windows and the painted mural, a memorial to the lost from the WW1.  P1000524

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Outside there was a view over the Kent Estuary with Arnside Knott on one side and Whitbarrow the other. The main event however, the Lakeland Hills, was a hazy distant blur though the  plaques showed me what should be seen on a clear day. Worth returning for.P1000536 P1000531

Out onto Scout Scar all was blue sky, the limestone ridge dotted with low growing trees. One can wander at will up here, but I stuck to a path along the edge of the escarpment watching the line of cliffs unfold with the Lyth Valley down below. I didn’t know the path dropping off this western side, but the map indicated a cairn. The cairn appeared and what a fine one. The track off was clear, but first I sat on the edge for a break whilst I had the views, though the far hills still hazy. I ate the last of my Xmas cake and topped up on water, a buzzard flew majestically below me. P1000537

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The way down was steep and stony through the trees. All of a sudden you are into pastures full of sheep belonging to Barrowfield  a wonderfully situated homestead. The farmer was sorting out his lambs, an age-old routine not changed for generations. P1000556

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Back into woods a narrow path threaded its way down the valley. New growth was appearing on the trees, the young beech leaves the brightest green. Continuing on a lane I bypassed Brigsteer and stayed high to the remote cottages at Well Garth. Then down through fields to Park End a picturesque C17 farm. P1000579P1000581

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A couple of fields, and I was into Brigsteer Woods. I just followed whichever path seemed to be in the right direction. These woods were traditionally coppiced, so light gets through to the forest floor. Everywhere were woodland flowers – primrose, cowslip, celandine, dog violet, dandelion, bluebell, wood anemone, wood sorrel, wild strawberries the list goes on. But I was too late for the native daffodils, they were well past their best. P1000604

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Native daffodils?

Out of the woods there was a short stretch through what had been an ancient deer park presumably connected with the castle estate. Back at the Castle the café was doing a roaring trade in ice creams, I was surprised by the number of children about – some must have longer holidays than others. I couldn’t resist a wander around the grounds and gardens before leaving. P1000612P1000642

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A varied area worth more exploration. I should visit Brigsteer village and maybe have a look at the bird hide on the edge of the mosses. Even a trip around the castle.

***

CaptureSizegh. (2)

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – A LONG DAY ON PENDLE.

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I’ve been impressed so far with the walks from Mark Sutcliffe’s Cicerone guide to Walking in Lancashire. It’s a big county covering all types of terrain from the Coast to the Pennines, and he has chosen well. I must have walked most of his routes many times in the past, but he keeps throwing up little gems of variations new to me. Today was no exception. Nobody in their right mind would climb Pendle up those steps from the overrun village of Barley, I did in October 2020  as the lockdown restrictions for Covid were being relaxed. Never seen so much congestion on the roads or hill, but I was on a mission that day to find Fox’s Well. Mark takes us the quiet but long way up from the little village of Pendleton, a hamlet (tun) close to Pendle.

Pendle Hill dominates the landscape as you drive along the busy A69 though the Ribble Valley. It was along here I came today before branching off into the peace and quiet of Pendleton. I paid my dues and parked in the village hall’s car park as suggested in the guide, Walk 34 – ‘a challenging walk‘. I have been slowly increasing the mileage that my knee injury will cope with, it is nearly a year since the cycling accident that tore the medial ligament. Time is a slow but reliable healer, today’s rough 10 miles would be a test.

The sun is out as I walk past the Swan with Two Necks, I have visions of a pint outside on the return. Pendleton is unusual in that it has a stream running down its main street making it a favourite Ribble Valley venue. The pub regularly wins awards for its beer and food. Higher up the village the Fiddle Stone, once a clapper bridge across the stream now curiously spanning a patch of grassP1000368

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Leaving aside thoughts of beer, I soon take a lane into fields which rise up to Wymondhouses, a Pennine farm once used as a chapel. The plaque above the door states that the first Congregational Church in north-east Lancashire was founded here in 1667, a Mr Thomas Jolly being the nonconformist preacher. P1000382 P1000389P1000393P1000392

Rougher pastures and a sunken way led me onwards higher to come out onto the road at the Nick of Pendle, a low pass through these hills between the Ribble Valley and Sabden. A popular stopping off point for motorists seeking a picnic and a view. There were quite a few cars parked up this morning, the first people I had come across.

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Back to Longridge Fell and Bowland.

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Sabden down in the valley.

I was quickly back to peace and quiet on an obvious bridleway heading for Churn Clough and the Deerstones.

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Bridleway with Deerstones on the horizon.

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Below is the almost circular Churn Clough Reservoir, now used for fishing. Our path crosses the clough and then climbs steeply up its right bank heading for the Deerstones marked on the OS map. It is quite a pull-up. The day has changed, the sun has disappeared, and dark clouds fill the sky. The Deerstones look menacing in this light. At the back of my mind there is something of interest in the quarried stones, but I don’t divert without good reason. (I later read of the Devil’s Footprint. This feature was natural and caused by nodules of iron rich stone eroding out the harder gritstone bedrock. The legend is that the footprint was left by the Devil as he gathered stones in his apron to hurl at a nearby church. He then clumsily dropped them at nearby Apronfull Hill. I suspect that without prior knowledge the footprint would have been difficult to find. P1000419P1000412

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The Deerstones.

The path comes out onto the open moor at a gate. Paths go in all directions. I just head north on the vaguest of paths to join the main route coming up from the Nick. Pendle is a big hill and I feel minute in this landscape, it wouldn’t take much to get lost in its vastness on these SW slopes. All is sky and skylarks. You can’t capture this with a photograph, especially now that it is so dull.

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Could be anywhere.

The path becomes more defined on the lip of the prominent Ogden Clough, a highlight of the day so far. P1000429P1000431P1000430P1000433

I have distant memories of ploughing directly up that clough in a hard winter when all other tracks were obliterated. Today the going is good and as one approaches the summit the path has been ‘flagged’ to prevent erosion. There are still very few people using this way, but I fall into conversation with Max and his dog. He is full of tales of Lakeland walking, recently having completed the 214 Wainwright’s. He admits to being a little nervous on some of the Lakeland scrambles, I encourage him to take on Sharp Edge on Blencathra and maybe even Jack’s Rake on Pavey, I am not sure if he is convinced.

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Wes, dog and flags. 

By now we have reached the summit Trig point, at 557 m,and realise the place is thronged with people from the Barley side, what a contrast to our way up. Nonetheless, it is a good viewpoint over Pendleside and a sit down for a snack, but not for long as under the cloud it is decidedly chilly. 

P1000437P1000436P1000438P1000440P1000442A new path has been fashioned from the top of the Barley steps to the trig point. I must admit it blends as well as possible into the plateau and must save a lot of erosion. There is also a new stone shelter built into the nearby wall. Once through the wall as if by magic everybody disappears, and I have the whole of Pendle Moor to myself. There is no wind today, so it is almost perfect silence apart from all those soaring skylarks.

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Empty spaces – skylark country.

Past the stone shelter and on to Scout’s Cairn, the path is very boggy all the way. The Yorkshire Peaks are a bit hazy, but I’m focused on Kemple End, Longridge Fell and Parlick, Fairsnape Fell framing Beacon Fell straight ahead. As I said photography is difficult in this light. P1000448

The moor goes on forever. But is that sunshine returning? And now for that little bit extra. After a memorial cairn I drop steeply down into the extensive Ashendean Clough, a deep incision in Pendle’s SW slopes. This could be Scotland.

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Memorial to two Clayton-le-moors Harriers members.

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Down steeply to Ashendean Clough. Can you spot the Nick on the horizon?

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The guide says to cross the stream, but that is not so easy today without getting my feet wet or even worse. A perfect little valley full of bright yellow gorse. A footbridge by a barn and I’m into rough pasture aiming for the next barn which I cannot see, but we get there in the end and come out onto the lane by Mearley Hall. That has been quite some hill day.

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Howcroft Barn.

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I arrive back in Pendleton and treat myself to that beer, sat outside in the late sunshine. Perfect. Reflecting on what has been a connoisseurs walk, mostly away from the popular Pendle routes. That has been quite some hill day.P1000502

***

CapturePendle. (2)

RAIN BEFORE SEVEN…

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                                                                      A wet Longridge Fell.

…dry by eleven.

This piece of optimism is presumably based on the weather in NW Britain, where early-morning rain could mean it has been raining all night. The front producing it may then blow through giving way to fine weather later in the day, though not necessarily by eleven. It had certainly been raining most of the night when I awoke this morning at six, and it still was at nine. A couple of coffees, a poached egg and the crossword later I wondered about getting out. I wasn’t in a rush, just going local, so let’s give it to twelve to be certain.

My previous foolproof method of forecasting the day involved looking out of my bedroom window. If I couldn’t see Longridge Fell it was raining, if I could see the fell it was going to rain. Such is life up here. But now Barratt’s have built some ghastly houses in front of me, so I can’t see the fell at all. What does that say about the weather?

Parked up at Jeffrey Hill to do my usual short round on this end of Longridge Fell. Why not incorporate a litter pick whilst I’m at it, haven’t done one for a few weeks and after Easter I expect a good collection. The clouds over Bowland still suggest rain but is that some brightness behind me coming in from the coast on the strong winds? We can but hope, and anyway I’m fully waterproofed.

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Rain in the Trough of Bowland. 

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Behind me brightening across the Fylde?

To my surprise, or should that be pleasure, there is very little litter heading up to the trig point. I suspect someone else is helping out. Apart from the phantom orange peeler all I find is the usual d** p** b**s, no surprise there. It is also no surprise to see, in the distance I’m afraid, a couple walking with their dogs off the lead. There are signs everywhere suggesting this is not a good idea due to ground nesting birds at this time of year. Tell me if I am becoming pedantic.P1000352

I splash on through the bogs, we have had a lot of rain, to the trig point, Bowland remains  gloomy. The wind is behind me but still has a cold bite to it. Families coming the other way are frozen, and the children look miserable. They have the time to thank me for my  litter efforts. Whenever I meet people whilst I’m in litter clearing mode, a conspicuous bag and a grabber, they all say they should do the same – if only 5% did that would be a success. P1000344

Approaching the edge of the woods I’m surrounded by a dozen barking dogs. All loose and followed not that closely behind by a couple of ‘professional’ dog walkers. I stand my ground, I’m getting more confident with the canine species these days – there are so many of them. Pleasantries over I suggest that on the fell the dogs should be on lead. Of course their guardians have come from a different direction and claim there were no warning notices. We walk along together, and I explain about ground nesting birds – lapwings, curlews, skylarks, grouse, plovers etc in this area. The dogs are a delight to watch as they know their way and jockey for front position. A diverse selection of breeds all getting on together. I begin to wonder that as they are staying on this side of the wall and not transgressing onto the open fell I may have been a little harsh on their human friends. Dog walking has become big business these days as people who bought dogs for companionship now need to go back to work. We part company as they go off down the forest track. Out of interest later in the day I drive round to their point of access onto the fell and there are no signs warning of ground nesting birds. Fair enough. P1000349

I’m soon back on the road and the weather, as prophesised, is improving  so I incorporate a loop around Cowling Brook Plantation. I had noticed some litter starting to appear in this woodland of late. There wasn’t much to be honest but my d** p** b**s  total now was above a dozen. I enjoy my ventures into this plantation and feel the need to preserve it. There is so much unidentified bird song in the trees today. It would be good to come here with a proper birder and learn to recognise the calls. Any offers?

The little Cowling Brook coming down from Gannow Fell is in full lively flow heading to Knowle Green where it used to power the bobbin and cotton mills. P1000355

On the short stretch up the road into the strong wind the carrier bag was getting heavier, and I was in danger of repetitive strain injury from the trigger on my grabber. P1000357

The sun was shining once back at the car and indeed we have just had an almost good red sunset. Red Sky at night  Shepherd’s delight, another ancient folk law.  A red sky sunset tells us the worst of the weather has now eased, with higher pressure and improving weather approaching from the west for the following day. Red skies appearing when dust and small particles are trapped in the atmosphere by the important  high pressure.

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What will tomorrow bring?

***

CaptureLONGRIDGE FELL (2)

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – ALMOST INTO YORKSHIRE.

P1000294 (2)I couldn’t resist a decent hill day as the weather remained fine. All change next week. ‘Head east old man’ was my mantra as I sped along the M65. Everyone else was going west to Blackpool or the Lakes. Boulsworth Hill my objective. So far so good, but the last chapter of Mark Sutcliffe’s Lancashire Cicerone guide would have had me parking above Wycoller. If there ever was a honeypot then Wycoller deserves that title. A secluded village of agricultural and hand loom workers in the C16th to C18th. Along came power looms in the C19th in nearby Lancashire towns and the population moved out. By 1896 the majority of people had moved away from the village, and it was virtually deserted. But a renaissance occurred in the mid C20th, the area was incorporated into a Country Park and people started moving back into the village renovating the properties. I well remember Longridge acquaintances of mine telling me of their plans for one of the houses in the 70s. I suspect you would have needed a bottomless purse to go ahead.  For more information look at Wycoller (abandonedcommunities.co.uk)

The village is a now a conservation area and is closed to outside traffic. The car park on Trawden Road is the one suggested for this walk. Today, Easter Sunday I suspect it would be probably full by the time I arrived and you have to pay. So I decided to park up in Trawden village on the line of the walk. This worked well, makes the walk more balanced and avoids backtracking at the end. I will give details at the end of the post.

Out of the car I was soon winding my way up a lane into the hills, slightly more directly than Mark’s route. Footpaths then led past isolated farms. I came across two unusual stone stiles with a circular centre and  exits into three separate fields, difficult to describe and difficult to photo, but I have never seen anything like them before. On down an ancient track into Wycoller.

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Early fields with the amorphous Boulsworth on the horizon. 

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Early crows’ nests in the bare trees. A walled enclosure like a pinfold. 

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P1000214A good start to the day, although by now it was after noon. The expected crowds were milling around in the hamlet. Crossing and recrossing the series of bridges over the stream. For the record …P1000218P1000217P1000234

The information centre/café appeared closed, but some enterprising folk were running a mobile coffee shop, it was too early for me. This walk gives you the opportunity to explore Wycoller if you haven’t been before. I had a look around the remains of the hall and was reminded of the time when I slept in the fireplace Inglenook whilst on a two-day trip around the Pendle Way. At the time I was unaware of the phantom horse ghost story associated with the hall.  If I had known I may have slept elsewhere. P1000224P1000223

You have had enough historical homework on the area so far, and it is time to move on. There are ways either side of the stream, but the important junction is well signed leaving the Pendle Way and the Bronte Way to take a concessionary path alonside Turnhole Clough. (the Bronte connection being that Wycoller Hall may have been the inspiration for Ferndean Manor Jane Eyre’s residence with Rochester after the fire at Thornfield. The Bronte Way is a worthwhile short/long distance way)

Families were enjoying the country park with Easter picnics whilst high above the sci-fi Atom, one of Lancashire’s panopticons, looked down on us. P1000227P1000229

I don’t think I have been in Turnhole Clough before and I enjoy strolling through the trees above the lively beck. This sort of concessionary path should be more commonplace, I can think of several areas crying out for access. It just needs the local authority and landowners to come to some agreement, maybe pushed by interested rambling groups. P1000238

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Anyhow, eventually the Clough brings me out onto open moorland. Above on the skyline is a row of rounded gritstone boulders which look interesting. I have a hill to climb today, so I’m not keen to add extra height wandering off route to them. There is a path up towards them but when I later search on the UK database there is no mention of them being climbed upon. I now regret coming so close without visiting, all I have are some telephoto pictures. What are they 10, 20 or even 30ft high, it is difficult to tell? Another day. P1000243P1000250P1000251

The book states you come out at the bailey bridge and cross it, but the concessionary path actually brings you back onto the Pennine Bridleway/Bronte Way above the bridge.  Now we head across open moorland on this ancient flagged mule track.

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Perfect wild camp site in the upper Turnhole Clough. 

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Which way? 

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Up and down until the barn where a signed path heads upwards to Boulsworth. This is a relatively new way so tends to just head upwards, none of the characteristics of worn winding historic routes. All is well until a fence is crossed and then the brutal 1000ft climb rears up steeply in front of you. I’m too old for this game but plod on at a slow pace being glad I stopped for an energising bite to eat back in the clough. Sometime later I breasted the ridge at some prominent gritstone boulders, Little Chair stones. Onwards past more boulders, The Weather Stones, I give them names in my imagination or am I hallucinating? Any suggestions?

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Start of the ascent. 

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The steepening. 

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Forever onwards to the Little Chairs. 

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Up at last to the trig point at 518 m, Lad Law. There was nobody else here. Panoramic views over Lancashire and Yorkshire but now a little hazy. Am I actually in Yorkshire, well not quite but a stone’s throw away paths head deep into Bronte Country to the east. It all looks very bleak.

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Lad Law trig 518 m.

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A hazy distant Pendle over the Coldwell Reservoirs.

Turning back into Lancashire I head off downhill past the prominent Abbot Stone, too steep to contemplate bouldering.

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The Abbot.

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Boggy ground has me back on the Bridleway where after a few yards a stile takes me into fields and alongside Gilford Clough. Farther over to the right is Lumb Spout waterfall, a hidden gem. Maybe Mark missed a trick there, worth a diversion if you know where it is.

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Gilford Clough

I’m content to walk down the lane past an assortment of farmhouses, cottages, hen houses, barking dogs and allotments back into Trawden. A village where the residents run the library, pub, shop and community centre.

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Trawden FC?

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Free cooperative seeds. 

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Is they Islay? 

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Yes it is Spring but not summer.

***

My parking was on Lanehouse Lane just past the bowling green area alongside an old cotton mill where there is adequate room close to where the route enters and exits the lane. SD916380 

I was glad of this choice for it meant after a long tiring descent I was saved the climb back over to Wycoller completed  earlier. The map makes sense.

Captureoulsworth hill

A VERY GOOD FRIDAY.

P1000193I have a few ideas for some hilly walks now the weather has improved, but they would involve travelling on the busy Easter roads, so I manage to procrastinate the morning away. Let’s just stay local and have a wander up Longridge Fell checking out a few bird habitats at the same time. I’m keen to see the Great Crested Grebes performing their mating dance on the little reservoir at the top of the village. This is where I park my car. Craig Y Longridge is busy with climbers.

As I’m putting my boots on along come JD and his friend Danny. In a couple  of weeks they are off to do a pilgrimage walk through Portugal to Santiago de Compostella and are out for a brisk training walk. May I join you I ask? Yes as long as you can keep up with us. All very friendly. They set off at speed up the road, my ‘un’fitness showing. I let them do the talking whilst I try to get my breath back. Fortunately there is soon a rest break whilst they remove clothing layers, the day is hotting up along with their pace. They stuff their clothes onto rucksacks which they are carrying for training purposes.

Now into rhythm I begin to enjoy the walk as we  climb up onto Longridge Fell, my original destination. There are daffodils and primroses along the verge and bird song in the air. Young lambs play in the fields. Aren’t we lucky to have this on our doorstep?

Instead of following their intended route up the lane to the kennels I take them off on a track through the fields, past the little reservoir, on by the long abandoned quarries and just below the expensive farm conversion to meet up with the lane leading to the plantations. They claim they had never been that way before, but I doubt their memories. They stop on the ridge for a drink, I suck on an orange. Then along the balcony path above Chipping Vale to the crowded parking on Jeffrey. The first people we had met all afternoon.

We have a quick look into Cardwell Quarry where JD and I used to climb years ago as I had seen a barn owl there the other day. We see a couple of small falcons fly out – ?merlins. In the corner I spot the barn owl, get a hurried long shot (photographically I hasten to add) before it sees us and flies out – what a wonderful bird. Now I know where it roosts I creep in another day and try and get some better images. JD is surprised to see the amount of significant rock fall that has occurred over the years. Quarries are inherently unstable, one just hopes that you are not hanging on when the rock decides to part company. Anyway climbing is banned here ever since some unruly and aggressive behaviour towards the farmer from some youths partying in there. I only hope they weren’t climbers, not that it makes any difference to the ban.

It’s all downhill on the road back to Longridge past the golf course. As part of their training they feel obliged to call in for a drink. We sit on the sunny balcony enjoying a beer whilst the golfers go over their good and bad shots of the day. All very pleasant. Resisting the temptation to stay longer we are soon back into town. I had had my walk up the fell in slightly different circumstances to those envisaged and thoroughly enjoyed the banter. It has turned out a very Good Friday after all.  I’m envious of their upcoming peregrination.

A pot-pourri of images :-

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A Great Crested Grebe.  

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A busy Craig Y Longridge.

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A couple of pilgrims.

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A Million pounds. 

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A busy Jeffrey car park.  

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A distant Barn Owl. 

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A lot of recent rock fall.

***

CaptureLongridge Fell.

IF YOU GO DOWN TO THE WOODS TODAY…

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A follow-up to my post of last week on Woodland Trust sites in Fulwood.

I had to go into Preston to pick up my camera after its repairs. Wilkinson’s has served me well over the years and many cameras with personal care.. My pocket Lumix Leica had started with a fault  involving the electronic zoom – it wouldn’t. I persisted for a while using the manual setting but eventually returned it to the shop for attention under its two-year warranty. The young shop assistant tried to tell me I had damaged the zoom by dropping the camera, I explained I hadn’t. He wrote about ‘damage’ on the repair form and said he would speak to his manager – he didn’t. Subsequently, I was informed the camera’s zoom mechanism was replaced and ready for picking up at a charge of £167. I phoned to say I had disputed the cause of the failure and expected the warranty to cover the charges, the temporary assistant said he would speak to the manager – he didn’t.

I arrived in the shop clutching my warranty and asked to speak to the manager. He was very understanding and agreed that the repairers had said there was no sign of any physical damage. Of course there was no charge, I thanked him for his fairness. I will no doubt be giving this independent but expanding business, my custom in the future as opposed to the internet. Just don’t deal with the young temporary assistants.

Being keen to try it out and as I was in town I thought I would visit the two Woodland Trust woods in Fulwood omitted last week. They didn’t fit into my circular walk being more stand-alone sites. The Woodland Trust website gave me maps and access points.

ASDA WOOD.

“Public access is informal and limited. There is a stile on the southern boundary which is used irregularly as a foot access route to Asda, a network of informal unsurfaced paths run through the site for approx. 500 metres. The woodland is not thought to be well-used except perhaps by a small number of people as a shortcut to the superstore.”

The small size of this site, and the fact that it is surrounded by housing and a superstore limits its value as a wildlife habitat. Unfortunately the woodland does not l ink with any other habitats, and there is no opportunity to extend it. However, it is a mature and stable woodland which provides a refuge for urban wildlife.

Not exactly encouraging. I parked up in the far corner of the superstore car park and found the shortcut mentioned, a muddy informal track connecting to Eastway. What else did I find? Well everywhere along the border of the wood with the car park an unbelievable amount of dumped rubbish. Not just the odd drinks bottle or takeaway box, no everything but the kitchen sink. There was probably a sink in there somewhere. A lot of the mess was Asda packaging hurriedly discarded whilst on the premises, but others must park up here, well away from the public eye, and have a right clear-out. It was disgusting, and I am surprised Asda  are not sufficiently ashamed and embarrassed to do something about it.

My enthusiasm for the oaks, birch, hawthorn and sycamore dwindled – it was so messy at the edges. The woods drop away steeply and would be difficult to access even if there were paths. Best stay away, or at least just sit in the car park listening to the bird song whilst you throw away your rubbish. I notice The  Woodland Trust does’n put their usual signs up here, or more likely they have been burnt.

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Eastway gate into Asda Wood.

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Deeper in the wood.

CLOUGH COPSE.

A popular wood with local dog-walkers and joggers Clough Copse consists of a wide variety of tree life including oak, ash, sycamore, cherry, beech, elder, hazel and holly. Bluebells, dog’s mercury and red campion can be spotted as well.

Sounds more promising. I’ve never been into these housing estates alongside The Guild Wheel.  A maze of roads, upmarket houses and plenty of green spaces. From one of the roads where I parked I eventually found a path onto the Guild Wheel which I followed downhill towards the Old Tannery on Savick Brook. On the map I had spotted a track heading back up into Clough Copse. This well maintained way alongside a smaller brook is local authority owned. There are bridges and steps leading off into  unseen housing. The deep clough divides and there didn’t seem to be any track up the right-hand branch. The Woodland Trust announce their presence. I followed the pleasant left-hand clough and yes there were dog walkers about.

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Out of the estate to the Guild Wheel to start.

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Finding a way in off the Guild Wheel.

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A small ‘smoke-free’ children’s’ playground appeared on the edge of the housing. I continued upwards with the stream below giving interest. Patches of Wood Anemone, Lesser Celandines and Primroses added colour. Only the Blackthorn was showing any blossom.

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All too quickly I popped out the other end onto some unknown road and was able to find my way back to the car. Really this wood is just a narrow strip  offering locals a welcome green way out of their estate. Again there was plenty of bird song, so it is providing a habitat for our wildlife.

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tempsnipASda (2)

!. ASDA WOOD.     2. CLOUGH COPSE.   Purple, route walked.

Maybe Clough Copse would be worth a revisit when the bluebells are out and the trees leafed up. But really it is only of use to the surrounding estate. Stay well away from Asda Wood.

My curiosity satisfied and the camera tested. Now after the two visits I have in my mind’s eye an idea for a pleasant walking circuit of the best of the Woodland Trust sites in Fulwood. But let’s wait until the woods are farther on after Easter.

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – let there be light.

P1000084The clocks have changed, but my body hasn’t caught up as yet. Today had a sparkling alpine start and promised to be the best of the week. I struggled to get up having lost an hour somewhere. But with the minimum of faffing I’m away by 10.30. It only takes me a half hour to drive out to Dunsop Bridge. I know the sun doesn’t set tonight until after 7pm, so there is no rush, that’s the way I like it.

 Walk number 12, Whin Fell and Brennand, of Mark Sutcliffe’s guide promises – Another classic hill walk  combining steep climbs, big views and pleasant riverside rambling in the secluded hills and dales at the heart of the Forest of Bowland, 

 He has covered Bowland well with ten walks on my back door. Today I parked up just off the Trough road as recommended. Soon I was following a permissive path alongside Langden Brook. Oyster Catchers seem to have taken over many of our rivers but in the background I could plainly hear Lapwings and Curlews. This is open fell country,but since 1960 their numbers have dropped by 85%.P1000019P1000020

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Crossing Langden Brook.

Back on the road I pass the farmstead of Sykes.

P1000025The lime kiln gives a clue as to the bedrock hereabouts, but I shall soon be high in gritstone country.P1000026

The Trough of Bowland road snakes ever so slowly up the valley. I branch off right and have my own hill to climb.

P1000038The track soon peters out, and I’m left on boggy pathless territory forever upwards. This is designated as a bridleway, and I remember coming this way on a mountain bike 35 years ago with my son. No chance now. This area is isolated from the usual Bowland haunts, and I’m surprised to meet three walkers descending the pass. A friendly trio and we exchange banter. They have driven up from Manchester,  preferring this area to the crowded Peak District. They soon become a dot on this vast landscape as they descend towards the Trough Road and I struggle upwards. Across the way Totridge Fell keeps its head above most of the fells around here.

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The last time I was up here I continued to the top of Whin Fell with views to Morecambe Bay and beyond. This certainly feels like the centre of Bowland. Today I was conserving my energy to complete a rugged 7-mile circuit. and I soon reached the boggy col. Way down in the valley was Brennand Farm – the promised land. All I had to do was traverse Ouster Rake. It wasn’t as bad as I remember it. Over the years a groove has been eroded into the hillside making it feel far less exposed. But come a harsh winter and this becomes an icy trap where there have been several accidents. I still don’t believe I have cycled this route. I find a flat rock and eat my sandwich gazing down into the Brennand Valley, I must follow it higher into the hills one day, I don’t think I have ever been to the evocatively named Whitendale Hanging Stones.

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P1000069Looking back I was surprised to see how steep and craggy are the northern slopes of Whin Fell. At Brennand Farm (notice how it complements Sykes Farm passed earlier) all is pleasant with newborn lambs in the fields, no Spring walk is complete without some lamb photos. On down the Brennand Valley and then strangely back upwards to join Whitendale.P1000087

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Looking back up the Brennand Valley.

From the water catchment works under Middle Knoll the River Dunsop gathers pace down the valley. All very familiar to me. I, too, gather pace alongside it on the good tarmacked water board road. I stop to try, unsuccessfully, to capture a photo of the Dippers merrily skimming down the river.  Sometimes Kingfishers flash up this section . There has been a lot of tree felling along here in the last few years. I’m soon onto those boggy fields I traversed last week to get me back onto the Trough road below Mellor Knoll and Totridge, and my car. There is plenty of light left for further exploration. Don’t get your Middle Knoll get confused with the Mellor Knoll.

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Joining Whitendale.

 

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Middle Knoll overlooking the Dunsop Valley.

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Across the fields with Mellor Knoll and Totridge ever present.

CaptureWhin Fell

Post script. You will recall my horror the other day at the erosion being caused in the beech woods on the lower slopes of Totridge Fell above the Inch Perfect Trail Bikes outfit. Well let’s take the bull by the horns and drive up to their headquarters. It’s a long lane up to ‘New Hay Barn’ as it was. Now the centre for trail bike riding with accolades from Lancashire Tourism. I must admit they have developed a professional trail biking heaven. Lots of  manufactured technical obstacles in the lower fields for the enthusiastic biker.  I enter the impressive shop full of no doubt expensive bikes and kit, electric ones being top of the range. Videos are playing of the destruction they are doing to the hillsides. All very Formula One. 

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Simon the manager is on the defensive as I casually say I had been on the public bridleway on his land last week and was distressed  to see the erosion and damage being perpetrated in the beech woods above. He asserts that all has been verified planning wise, though I doubt the fine details. He seems to imagine, erroneously, that the bikes don’t go as high as the woods. His main grouse is dog walkers at loose amongst his trail bikes, albeit on a public bridleway. Being in a mellow mood I forget to ask him who actually owns the land (is it Duchy Land?) and does he have marshals out on trial days to warn the public  of the surrounding danger. We part with him saying he will have to have a trip up into the woods where I am showing concern. He has not seen the last of me. This is an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty after all. Or is it?

Calm down. As I leave ahead of me is one of my favourite Bowland venues, Kitcham Hill Woods on Birkett Fell. All peace and quiet, long may it remain so, but I do wonder who will be looking after our countryside in the future.

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CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – Whitewell, Mellor Knoll and the Hodder.

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Haredon rook connects with Langden Brook which connects with the Hodder just after the River Dunsop, itself formed from the Brennand and Whitendale  waters, has joined in. In this part of Bowland there is a lot of water flowing off the hills down the Hodder towards the Ribble. So much water that I couldn’t safely cross the stepping stones at Whitewell this morning. Walk number 14 of Mark Sutcliffe’s Cicerone Lancashire. 

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The day promised the best weather of the week – sunny,mild and dry. And it was. I adjusted and parked up at Burholme Bridge a little farther up the Hodder.

The climb up the quiet road was a good warm-up before taking the footpath through the field.  It felt good to see Lapwings flying around and a couple of Curlews in the distance. I was in limestone country and all around were little outcrops and caves, I have explored some of these in the past so was content to walk by. The lane leads into the hills and a far off farm under Totridge Fell, but the bridleway goes off right into the woods. At one time there were numerous hen houses scattered about, true free-range poultry, but today there only seemed to be one shed left standing. 

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Unnamed limestone caves.


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The ‘last’ Whitmore hen house.

The path through these woods, Lower Fence, has always been boggy but since recent felling matters have improved somewhat. As height is gained views open up into the heart of Bowland above Dunsop. Leaving the firs a contrasting beech wood is entered. I have always enjoyed this high woodland stretch – beautiful beech trees with Totridge Fell towering above and views down through the trees to the twisting Hodder where I had parked. The farm below has hosted off-road motorbike trailing for some time, but it was confined to the lower fields and contrived obstacles. Inch Perfect Trials. There is now evidence that they are riding higher up into these ancient woods causing erosion and damage to the tree roots. Their promotional video illustrates this clearly. No doubt the land belongs to the organisation but, call me a spoil sport,  I don’t feel this is appropriate in the wild surroundings. Worryingly they seem to have received several Lancashire tourism awards. We don’t need that sort of tourism. Let’s not forget we are in the Forest of Bowland, a recognised Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. I certainly would not like to walk this Public Bridleway when they are out to play. Who should I complain to? The King, if this is Duchy land? Now I’m home and writing this I am even more incensed – they are going to destroy that beautiful beech wood.

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How it should remain.


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Encroaching trails.


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The Hodder Valley below.


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What it is becoming.


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Erosion…


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…erosion


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Destruction.

Maybe my mind was distracted, but I went astray at the col between Totridge and Mellor Knoll. It is easy to do so on the featureless ground. But basically all routes lead down to Hareden in the end. Incidentally if you are up here it is easy to gain the 344 m summit of Mellor Knoll, although there are no rights of way. Why wasn’t it included in the CRoW act’s open access land?

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Mellor Knoll.


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Off track.


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Haredon, can you spot the car on the trough road?

At the farm a trailer was full of sheep presumably off to market. When I asked the little girl with her mother if they were her sheep she proudly said yes. the mother quickly intervened to say that they were going on holiday. Very diplomatic. 

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Going on holiday!


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Haredon Farm. 1690.


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Always a warm welcome.

it was flat walking down the valley into Dunsop Bridge, but the weather had clouded over and become much colder, don’t we have a mixed climate. Mark’s route fortunately brings you past Puddleducks café, still functioning as an outside venue, I enjoyed a coffee. 

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Hareden Brook, haunt of Dippers.

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Langden Brook.

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Puddleducks in the old post office.

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On past that 100.000th BT phone box often considered the centre of Great Britain. Down the avenue of tall Redwoods to Thorneyholme Hall, once owned by the Townley family of Burnley, known for breeding race horses. Their land agent Richard Eastwood had success in the 1861 Derby with Kettledrum. It is believed that St. Hubert’s Church in the village was partly financed though the horse’s winnings. More of that later.DSC00408DSC00411 (1)

The path down the valley alongside the Hodder, now joined by the Dunsop and Langden Rivers, is always a joy surrounded by all those familiar hills. This is a good place to watch Sand Martins but of course they haven’t returned yet. The river bank in parts is being eroded, and the path has been changed with the introduction of those modern metal kissing gates which I don’t feel are very sympathetic with our countryside. That is the last of my gripes.   

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Langden Brook joining the Hodder under the watchful eye of Mellor Knoll.

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What’s wrong with the old one?

Since I was last along here the farm at  Burholme has had its rendering removed exposing lovely warm sandstone. The farmer busy with his lambs tells me it has C14 origins. Their Lonks are not to be messed with.DSC00423

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By the time I was back at the graceful Burholme Bridge the sun was shining again.

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I then drove back along to Dunsop Bridge to have a look at St. Hubert’s which I had become more aware of through  this blog.  All the history is there to read and I won’t repeat it. See also its listed building entry. The church sits squatly by the road leading to the Trough of Bowland.  The striking feature externally is the large white marble angel guarding the Towneley family vault. Inside I found very little lighting to fully appreciate the fittings. The exquisite stained-glass windows however showed up really well. Their leaflet describes a painting of Kettledrum, but I was unable to locate it. Mary Towneley  of more recent equestrian fame is also buried here. 

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A good walk in the best Bowland scenery, which in truth I have done many times before at all times of the year, but never get tired of. (I did exactly the same walk on May 1st 2019.)  If you are intending to follow the Cicerone route in full come when the river is down so the stepping stones can be traversed and maybe a pint taken in the Inn at Whitewell.  There is a concessionary path off the road from near Burholme Bridge directly back to the Inn at Whitewell which would save some of the repetition of his route. 

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