Category Archives: Bowland Fells.

TWO BRIGHT DAYS.

20231130_135009xThe temperature is hovering just above zero, but we must be under a high pressure there is no wind and the sun is shining. Perfect. I don’t carry a camera for these two days, I’m trying out my new phone.

Wednesday I join that walking group who put up with my irregular appearances. I’m not really a walking group type of person, a miserable old bugger and proud of it. The meeting place is strangely the Capitol Centre in south Preston. Perhaps the whole thing is a subterfuge for some Christmas Shopping. But no, once we all assembled we are marched off into no man’s land of Walton-le-dale and Lower Penwortham. Old railways and tram tracks wander through light woodland and surprisingly green fields. I keep seeing cycleway signs, so I must look them up for further exploration, there is no such thing as a wasted walk. The talk generally is about the state of the nation in particular the NHS, we are all of an age when most are afflicted.

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On our way.

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Cheeky chap.

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Safely back at the shops

Time passes quickly, I have no idea where I have been but the leader sensibly hands out a map of our route for perusal later.  P1010908

The highlight of these walks is the pub lunch at the end. Today it is Hunters. Being smart I looked up their website the night before and memorised their own map of  the locality. So once we were back in the car I proudly said I knew the way. We all seemed to drive off indifferent directions. Ten minutes later we realised there was no pub at our destination. Out with the phone to plot another route, this time putting in the name of the road – Hennel Lane. Another ten minutes and we were parking up in what appeared to be tacky family fun road house. It was, but the food was ok and they had some decent beers. Should I tell them of their website error or just let other people find out the hard way as we did. You can see the two sites on the map below, take your pick.Capture

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Thursday, another day of frost and sun. The usual procrastinating and I end up with a walk up Longridge Fell, nothing wrong with that. I realise I have not had my breakfast which is a bit strange. Being on my own I can dawdle and take pictures of frozen grasses. 20231130_131451

When I set off there are few cars in the carpark but later in the afternoon it is quite busy, dog walkers mainly taking advantage of the good weather. I take my usual route contouring the lower fell – the ‘panorama route’ I call it because of the views over Chipping Vale and the background Bowland Fells of Fair Snape and Totridge. I walk up to the trig point on Spire Hill. The boggy areas are semi frozen making life easier but still giving way on the wetter sections. I have the place to myself, there is not a sound or a drop of wind. The three Yorkshire peaks are clear in the distance, I head back down through the trees first and then reverse my upward route. I meet a mountain biker making the best of the conditions.P101089720231130_134954

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A lady is setting up her easel to sketch the scenery in front of her. Unashamedly I interrupt her saying ” I wish I could do that”. She is very modest and replies she struggles to produce anything worthwhile. I’m sure she is underplaying her talents. I find out the name of the gallery in Ribchester where she exhibits and promise to visit. 20231130_142518

A little farther on I meet a friend who spends his time photographing wild life, particularly birds. He is out to see the barn owls that quarter the fellside most evening. I should come up tomorrow to do the same as there is also a short eared owl about. His camera is a foot longer than mine. What envy? 20231130_131355

Two contrasting walks!

Lets hope for more days like this and the winter will feel much shorter.

BLUE SKIES OVER THE FELL.

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By now you will know that if I just say ‘the fell’ I’m referring to Longridge Fell. However there is a new restaurant in town simply called Fell – not been yet, rather pricy. Saving it for a special occasion. 

I was going to get my hair cut when a phone call came from the ‘slate poem lady’, Clare, wondering if I fancied a walk up the fell as the day was perfect. Of course I did.

We were accompanied by Zola, an Australian Kelpie. This breed, possibly descended from our Collies  are working dogs and need a lot of exercise. Whilst we walked three or four miles I think she did ten. There was a moment of panic when a Roe Deer bounded out of the trees and shot across the heather, Zola picked up the scent and was off. Fortunately cheese snacks dragged her back.

We had already taken a slightly different route up the fell because the paragliders* in the sky were spooking the dog. Normally they are launching themselves off Parlick across the valley, but occasionally if the winds change they congregate up here, using  the steep scarp for launching. P1000620

It all looked very exciting and the views from up there must be great but I was happy to keep my feet on the ground. Some of that ground was very boggy today but we made it to the trig point, yes we could see Ingleborough and Pen-Y-Ghent and the Hodder Valley spread below us, the sky was so clear, before we disappeared into the woods. I love this passage down the tunnel of light. P1000631

A bit of boggy walking, more boggy than I had expected, sorry, on past the tree that I christened ‘It’s Grim Up North’ years ago.P1060060 (2)

Back at the road I took a hidden track into Cowley Brook Plantation for some further circular exploration. We found some unidentified fungi and peered into the deep hole in the ground, Sweden Quarry. After some awkward bracken bashing we were again on the road not far from our parked cars, the paragliders were still enjoying the updraft.. The sun shining bright, these are the autumn days to be enjoyed and praised.

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* I hesitated to put up a picture of a paraglider. Three Palestinian PEACE protesters have been arrested in London for displaying such an image – apparently now associated with the dreadful Hamas invasion of Israel. Three women deny showing pictures in support of Hamas – BBC News

 

What strange times we live in.

Next time I will get a photo of Zola.

A SUNDAY STROLL AROUND BLEASDALE.

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This is one of my favourite walks for the wetter months. Virtually dry underfoot the whole way and yet in touch with the imposing Fells of Bowland. I’ve been walking these paths for 50 years since moving to the area. We used to push our two young sons around in a double buggy in the early seventies, remember those. CaptureBuggy

I keep returning and have since introduced my grandchildren to the delights.  But looking back at my recent traverses, there have been many on here, I always seem to have walked anti-clockwise from Bleasdale Church. Time for a change.

I am always looking for somewhere new to explore locally. Today, despite the clocks going back and giving me an extra hour in bed, I’m not really up and going till midday. I have missed my chance to cycle the Fylde Coast or even the Guild Wheel, it will be dark or gloomy before five. So I fall back on the tried and trusted – Bleasdale Estate. But let’s look at the map and why not go clockwise for a change or even for the first time for years, unlikely though that seems.

The mention of Bleasdale Estate may jog memories in some of you of the disastrous court case in 2018 of their gamekeeper, James Hartley, accused by the RSPB of raptor persecution. Technicalities ruled the damming video evidence of his crimes inadmissible. I still question the partiality of the judge. Is Mr Harley still employed on the estate? Have a read for yourself – Case against Bleasdale Estate gamekeeper collapses as RSPB video evidence ruled inadmissible – Raptor Persecution UK

Putting that all aside I park near the Lower Lodge, I’ve always wanted to live there, it’s so cute. The road is still marked Private, but pedestrians seem allowed, I’ve never been challenged, famous last words.  Now that the estate have introduced a ‘Glamping’ site quirkily called ‘Lantern and Larks‘  on their property (more of that later) there is more traffic up and down the private lane. P1000304

I must say that everything about this estate, maybe apart from their raptor persecution problems common with most shooting estates, is immaculate. They obviously take a pride in their appearance. The driveway past the lodge is newly mown either side to perfection. The Bleasdale Fells are in the background of every view on this walk. Since I was last here there has been a lot of clearance of the mixed plantation on the right which was becoming invaded with the dreaded rhododendrons. It will be interesting to see how they develop it further with plantings. P1000306P1000305P1000311P1000310

Across the way, as I walk down the manicured lane, Bleasdale Tower, built in the early 19th century sits at the base of the fells. The sun is not quite making an appearance, but the temperature is high for almost November. There is not a drop of wind and all is silence as I stroll up towards the Tower. Well not quite because a delivery van keeps passing backwards and forwards looking for some address.  It won’t be easy out here when the post code covers a vast area. A lady dog walker helps him out – hopefully as he speeds past me to the remotest of houses. P1000308

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I walk on past the buildings that at one time in the C19th served as a Reformatory School for Preston.   North Lancashire Reformatory for Boys, Bleasdale, near Garstang, Lancashire (childrenshomes.org.uk)  P1000314

The lady with the dog catches me up as I’m taking photographs of stone walls. I’m reading a book by Angus Winchester all about Dry Stone Walls, recommended by Walking Away,  and I’m keen to put it into practice. I would hazard a guess that these walls are mid C19th when the estate was being established. Her dog photo bombs my picture of an old ‘gate’. P1000315P1000316P1000321P1000323P1000325

The lady lives in a property on the estate and tells me she was born at Vicarage Farm along the way. That brings back memories of my attending that house in the middle of the night, when GPs did home visits. I’m talking about the late 70s or early 80s. She recalls her mother telling her of an occasion requesting a visit to her ailing aunt in this remote farm and the doctor saying put on all your lights, and I’ll be able to find you. That was probably me. What a small world.

She talks of living out here and attending the local school and church. The school is now closed, but the church, St Eadmer, is open and has a service once a month. She disappears into a farm to meet a friend but tells me to look out for the original site of the school marked by some stones along the way.

On the old track, now grassed over, and in my own world I startle to hear a bike bell ringing behind me. A cyclist is taking a shortcut home to Chipping. He dismounts, it’s muddy anyway, and we walk together chatting about all things cycling. I forget to look for the old school foundations after the vicarage, next time. We also pass the diversion to Bleasdale Circle, though I doubt I would have taken it as the fields are so waterlogged. At the little school I take the estate road going west, and he pedals off down the main track. P1000328P1000329P1000330

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It is along this stretch of lane are the Glamping pods, Lantern and Larks. They don’t look the most attractive, a cross between a shed and an awning from this vantage point. Turns out they are part of a National Group with other locations. As you can imagine they are not on the cheap side of accommodation, but where is nowadays? In their blurb they talk about the wild life to find in the surrounding area and highlight the Hen Harrier. It is these grouse shooting estates that are responsible for most of the deaths of the Harrier, a mixed message there.P1000335P1000340P1000338

Just past here on the right over the infant Brock is an old packhorse bridge said to have been on the way from the estate properties to the church and school. I would like to know more. Cutting across some fields I’m soon back at the car from there.  P1000341P1000342

Well that has been a very satisfying round.

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CaptureBleasdale.

ANOTHER SURPRISE.

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Following on from the unexpected meeting with Bruno the other day I had a surprise of a different sort today.

The approaching storm Babet seems to be passing us by. Yes it is windy, but the rain forecast has gone elsewhere leaving a sunny morning. A good opportunity to get up to Dunsop Bridge and have a better look at The Trough of Bowland Quarry which I’m supposed to be assessing for an upcoming new guide book to Lancashire climbing. I had a brief look in back at the end of July, but there were Peregrines about and the high bracken made exploration impossible.

The roads are quiet, and I enjoy the ride out through the Hodder valley and into the jaws of the Trough road. P1020492 The quarry is hidden away just before the road starts its winding ascent.  It’s late morning when I park up under the old Sykes Lead mine and the roadside Lime Kiln. The quarry faces west so should be sheltered from the easterly wind. A regular procession of motorcyclists pass me as I walk up the road to the gate.

A faint path leads into the quarry, all is peaceful and yes I’m out of the wind below the 70-foot wall of limestone. I have brought my extra long rope, so I should be able to abseil to the ground on it doubled. The bracken is dying back, and I can make my way up the right-hand side. It is steep, and I’m out of puff by the time I’m at the top. I’m concerned about where I can abseil from, the ground slopes steeply down to the top rim of the rock. I seem to remember from years ago trees above the main part but some of these have gone, and I’m limited to the far right side of the quarry. Being extra careful on the steep slope a solid birch tree is selected well away from the edge and using a sling around it I am able to anchor my rope. Gingerly I lower myself to the edge and peer over, my double rope makes the ground when I toss it down, that’s a relief. I should have had a photo looking down for those of you with a tender disposition.

I start to lower carefully as the top rocks are loose in . Before I toss any loose stuff down I bring my ropes back up out of the way, not wanting them damaged by falling rocks. One of the climbs here is called Guillotine, on the first ascent a dislodged rock cut through the climbers rope – not what you want to happen. I am starting to enjoy myself and the rock is generally sound. There is some good climbing here. I clear away a few saplings from some of the ledges as I come down, but this is just a preliminary inspection before deciding whether it would be worth the effort of a proper clean – yes we climbers are a bit obsessed. After some lunch I will go back up and have a closer look. On the photo, if you enlarge it, you can see my rope coming down just right of centre. 20231018_124750

As I am reaching the bottom I hear vehicles ascending a track on the fell on the opposite side of the road from the quarry. Strange. I thought I had heard voices up above me a little while earlier. Was I going to get challenged as to my right to be in there in the first place? By now there is a quite a crowd gathering across the way, and worryingly they all are carrying guns. The penny drops, and I realise I’m in the middle of a shoot. The beaters are coming across the fell above me and the guns are waiting to fire at whatever prey they are after, hopefully not me in the middle.

Time to get out of the firing line, I don’t know whether they can see me. Pull the rope down quickly, but no it keeps jamming. No shooting yet. Eventually I can just shove the rope into my sac and set off to walk out. They can see me now. I can vaguely hear them discussing me and expect a reprimand when I reach the road. But no they all seem friendly and wonder what I was doing in there, I apologise for getting in the way, but they don’t seem concerned as they are now banging away at birds flying over them. It gets very noisy. I try to take a video of the commotion, but it is difficult to anticipate when the birds will appear and the firings start.

Back at the car, now surrounded by 4X4s.  I talk to a man involved with the shoot – he is actually the caterer for their slap-up meal later. He tells me they are partridges and this is a sporting shoot as they fly so fast. Maybe only one in ten bite the dust, as opposed to grouse shooting when every two or three are shot. The shoot releases over three thousand partridges on this fell alone every year for the ‘sport’ – can you believe it. I bite my lip, I’m not as strong protestor as Greta Thunberg and I feel intimidated by all the guns. I do try to get a gentle dig in about whether they are still using lead shot, he is evasive with his answer and explains that most aren’t for consumption as there is little meat on them!

So it’s all for fun, as if I didn’t know it.

I’ll stick to enjoying the countryside in my own way and will be back in the quarry another day, but perhaps not on a Wednesday.

CHANGING SEASONS.

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You will have noticed we are moving from Summer to Autumn, although the seasons are not what they were. Heavy rain forecast for today and yes it arrived this morning. Soup and bread for lunch which will become the norm from now on, ditching the salads. I make lots of nutritious soups from cheap, out of date vegetables, from the supermarket and my freezer is full of them.

Come early afternoon it looks brighter. From my house I can view the westerlies coming in over the Fylde plain. Should be OK for an hour or so. I walk down past the cricket ground watching the clouds scudding across Fairsnape. It feels quite warm in the sunshine. 20230918_145655

Up Mile Lane (it is nowhere near a mile) meeting a few dog walkers on the way. We are all trying to dodge the showers. The spire of our village’s St. Wilfred’s Church always prominent on the horizon.20230918_151226

My mood is improving with every few more moments of sunshine. Exercise and sunshine are great healers, especially as we enter the darker months. By the time I pass through the park into the village I’m positively humming. Time to pop into our local Sainsbury’s for some more spinach destined for the freezer as soup. That’s nearly three miles under my belt before the next band of rain. Let’s hope tomorrow will give some breaks in the weather.

Now have I taken any photos on my phone?

HEATHER – and other things.

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Mid-August already. I’m losing this year somehow. I head up the fell for a short afternoon amble but find a grouse shoot taking place on Gannow Fell. Not the big ‘driven’ affair with lots of beaters, butts and toffs, but the ‘walked-up’ variety. A few guns walk up the fell hoping to flush out the grouse. To be honest I rarely see a grouse on this patch of fell and talking to one of the helpers they haven’t had a good session. No sympathy there from me.

I fall back on the haven that is Cowley Brook Plantation. I’ve mentioned it before as a pleasant place to walk around. An old plantation owned by United Utilities who cut some of the timber a few years ago and planted more mixed woodland species. At the same time they have opened up access to the public and paths have developed within it. I like the idea of spontaneous path generation, not all of them going anywhere in particular,that is part of the charm of the place. It’s good to watch the development of the different trees as the years come by. Normally the place is alive with birdsong, but today all is quiet, perhaps the guns from across the way have frightened them. At least the brook is gurgling away. P1020138

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Mountain Ash.

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Oh, I forget, I titled this post ‘heather’ because of the sudden blooming of the fells up here. Most of the heather flowering at this time of the year, in various shades of purple, is Calluna vulgaris. One can smell the semi sweet musty aroma from the roadside. In another week or so there will be a haze of pollen blowing across the land. Get out and enjoy it while you can – providing they are not grouse shooting.

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It may have passed your notice that Alison Rose, the NW Bank CEO, resigned recently as a result of  ‘a serious error’ relating to leaking Nigel Farage’s account. Yet today I read that she will still be paid a £2.3 million compensation package. Maybe it is time to change banks – any suggestions?

This seems to be a recurring theme. Business managers, multi nationals and politicians profiting from their negligence at the cost to Joe Public. You and me.

My short walk has failed to put me in a good mood. Every thing should be beautiful.

THE TROUGH OF BOWLAND QUARRY.

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If I look back, I do that too much these days, I climbed all the routes in this delightful Bowland limestone quarry way back in the 70s and 80s. That is when I was climbing nearly every day. The routes were scary for the grades, slopey holds, not much gear and loose topouts. All very adventurous – my style of climbing. Our post climbing pints were taken in the Inn at Whitewell, they put up with us back then, I’m not so sure if they would now.

I looked into the quarry whilst passing on a walk a couple of years ago. Apart from a few more trees it didn’t seem much different. I took a blurry phone picture, I remember that my camera proper had  packed up earlier that day up on Whins Brow.

In a mad moment a few nights ago I volunteered to help write up this quarry for the upcoming new Lancashire Rock Climbing Guide Book. Today I took a ride out to assess the task.  UKC Logbook – Trough of Bowland Quarry (ukclimbing.com)

I found a small space to park right next to the metal gate giving access to the track which heads into the quarry above Losterdale Brook. Not many people have been this way recently. It was just after lunch and the sun was coming round onto the face. The cliff was higher than I remember as I sat and traced the routes up it. Some really good-looking lines. Compact limestone with ramps running across it in places, lines of weakness when climbing. Trees growing on ledges. It is all steeper than it first appears. Areas of white crystalline rock embedded in the limestone, must ask The Rockman what they are. I could see the loose rock at the very top where your heart was beating in your chest as you pulled as carefully as possible to reach the safety of some tree roots. Looking again some of those summit trees seem to have expired, that could make setting up an abseil more difficult. I’ll worry about that next time when I bring a rope. P1020489

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I couldn’t remember which side of the crag we walked off. Today the forest of head high bracken made investigation more difficult. The left side was rather exposed, and I was very much aware of my presence alone here, I retreated. The right-hand side was easier, despite the bracken, and the top was reached. There are some sturdy trees up there but not in the centre of the crag. As I said I’ll worry about that next time. P1020456P1020455

From up here I looked out over the valley to the Bowland Hills surrounding The Trough. Down below is an old limekiln – probably the raison d’être for this quarry. Limestone being converted to lime for the land and early mortar. But directly across on the other side were signs of mining, a cave/adit and spoil screes. I must scramble up to that cave one day. What mineral were they looking for? I have just found this useful resource which points to it being lead.  Sykes – Northern Mine Research Society (nmrs.org.uk) A mine of information if you will excuse the pun. This page also talks of a mine being driven on the east side of the valley probably under where I was standing. Thinking about it, I suppose there was a clue down the road at Smelt Mill Cottage, home of the Bowland mountain rescue team.

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It was then that I heard the crying of a Peregrine falcon. I couldn’t see it, but I was concerned I could be disturbing its nesting site. I retreated once again to the quarry floor. Scanning the crag more carefully I spotted the pile of sticks on a ledge which is typical of a Peregrine’s nest. Normally the young fledge in early July. I shouldn’t be here, I leave as soon as possible, let’s give them another couple of weeks or so. P1020471

I couldn’t resist stopping at Burholme Bridge on the drive home for that classic view along the River Hodder into the heart of Bowland. P1020492

I’m left wondering about the quarry  – have I bitten off more than I can chew? Think I will need some help and encouragement.

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – ?FORBIDDEN BOWLAND.

P1020180Sat alone on the isolated true summit of Fairsnape, deep in Bowland, I’m poking at one of my sandwiches, egg and tomato, made a month ago. They went into the freezer when hot weather and circumstances cancelled an outing at the last minute only for them to re-emerge this morning. there is a distinct unappetising taste.  Should you freeze hard-boiled eggs? I’ve just traversed some of the loneliest hills up here and am in need of some sustenance.  The morning has been misty on the fells, however with a welcome cooling breeze. Distant views are restricted from my lofty perch, most of you will never have been here. Only a few curlew and grouse share my space. I poke again at the sandwich and decide to toss it into the heather for probably the seagulls, who now also patrol these heights, to scavenge.

As I say the day started off murky and cool with low cloud, quite the opposite of the mini heat wave we have been enduring. Ideal for a tramp across these Bowland hills. For a start don’t take Mark’s advice to leave your car in the Delph Lane car park, it’s none too safe and leaves you with quite an uphill walk before you start. There are suitable lay-byes nearer Stang Yule. Walk number 2 in the Cicerone’s Walking in Lancashire  book.

The way starts at a gate leading onto open access land. Welcome. On closer examination a notice says ‘No open access – temporarily closed at the land manager’s discretion’ Not a  good start at all. But wait, the date is 2021. This sign has not been removed or updated for two years. So much for the land manager.

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I try not to read too much into this as I stride boldly onto the access land. Nobody will see me in the mist. I’m enjoying the heather under foot, there is a path of sorts but not many come this way, put off by that notice possibly. Slowly I gain height and pull away from the plantation onto the open fell side, A track takes me across the slopes of Hazelslack Fell, a rarely visited spot. The last time I was up here was with Sir Hugh and JD on our straight line adventure between our homes. It’s as remote as I remember. P1020165

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The views back to the Fylde are supposed to be good.

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Approaching Hazelhurst Fell.

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Looking back with the track skirting below the summit of Hazelhurst.

I don’t bother with the 429 m trig point this time as I’m probably going higher shortly. The track dips down and climbs the contours gradually onto Winny Bank. The raison d’être for this track becomes obvious with the appearance of shooting butts. Not only the butts but also the small mammal  traps, thankfully decommissioned. The highlight of my week, if not the month, was witnessing a family of Stoats crossing a road on Longridge Fell. Distinctive with their black tipped bushy tails. Who would want to trap and kill these beautiful animals?? P1020188P1020189P1020197

Along the way is a stark memorial to airmen lost on these hills in WWII, I have a book somewhere  listing all these crashes and giving their accurate sitings. P1020196

The track starts to descend, and I have to be alert to pick up the ongoing path to Fairsnape otherwise I would be floundering, I know not where. The path begins somewhat unlikely with a few steps leading off a turning place. The stone flags don’t go far and one is left following intermittent white posts through the morass of peat. You will be glad you came here in dry weather, preferably a draught, also not a good place to be in thick mist. Stick with it, and you will arrive at a fence corner euphemistically named  Webster’s Meadow. (if you miss it you would be in ‘Dickey’s Meadow’) This is also known as Fiensdale Head, the way through from Langden to Bleasdale. A partially flagged path shows the way. it’s a long time since I’ve been down Fiendsdale, a good spot to see ring ousels. No idea who Webster was or Dicky for that matter.

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Turning spot.

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The way down to Fiendsdale.

United Utilities have an information board explaining the work being carried out to try and reverse some of the peat erosion. When I was last up here they were helicoptering bags of stones in to be incorporated into ‘dams’, stopping further erosion from run off and re-wet the surrounding peat. Evidence of that work is all around with stone and fibrous matting in the peat cloughs. One does wonder how much we can do to repair the damage which must be on a vast scale in Bowland alone. Are you still able to buy peat based compost – I hope not? P1020204

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A few more flags are encountered, showing a way down to Bleasdale and ahead to Fairsnape. Then you are on your own again with the fence for company. The book talks of ‘hard going’ in the peat hags – ‘hopping over to the other side of the fence may help’ Today that is not necessary as it is as dry as it is going to get, but there are still boggy morasses you wouldn’t want to fall into, perhaps the re-wetting is working. Knees are allowed for climbing out of the deepest hags. P1020213P1020208P1020221

Anyhow, I’m soon sat at the 520 m summit contemplating my lunch. There is another informative board up here telling the same story. Some of the funding came from the EU, pre Brexit. How much will our own DEFRA run by Thérèse  Coffey put into environmental schemes? P1020222

It’s a dry run over to the other summit of Fairsnape, the one with the shelters and trig point. I’ve not seen anybody all day so far and can’t believe I’m the sole person at this popular top. Only when I get closer to the shelter do two heads pop up – a young couple having some private time to themselves. P1020228

The mist has lifted a little allowing the gliders from the club down below to take to the thermals, spookily and silently sliding past out of the thin cloud. P1020226

The way off, by a cairn, is down some zigzags into Bleasdale. I have always assumed these to be part of a sledging route for bringing cut peat off the fell. Beautifully constructed and a joy to walk whichever direction, up or down. Few people used them as most are linking Fairsnape with Parlick along the ridge. But Mark knows this area well, covering Bowland in detail, the secret is out. P1020230P1020232P1020241

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What a contrast from the northern side of the fells – endless peat and heather as far as the eye can see and down here in Bleasdale with the green pastures stretching to Beacon Fell. The guide book takes you on tracks that would give access to Bleasdale Circle, but I’ve been there many times and at the moment it is a bit of a mess following storm damage to the trees, so I take a slightly different route through Bleasdale, past remote farms, past the old reformatory school buildings and past Bleasdale Tower. North Lancashire Reformatory for Boys, Bleasdale, near Garstang, Lancashire (childrenshomes.org.uk)

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That little lay-by.

The little blue car was waiting for me in that lay by, as a Duke Of Edinburgh group were going through, staggering in the heat under massive rucksacks. I wonder who had the better day?

***Capture Hazelhurst (2)

TOMORROW STARTS TODAY, A LONGRIDGE LOOP.

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It is a month since I have done a ‘long walk’. Health issues combined with all that heat kept me in doors. I’ve only managed a few walks of a couple of miles or so, enjoyable nonetheless in their own rights. Tomorrow I hope to take up the cudgel of another possibly strenuous Cicerone’s Lancashire walk. So I had better have a gentle warmer up to get my legs back into shape.

From my header photo you can see that the hawthorn flower has given way to the elderberry.

Juggling with the weather I need to get going before the afternoon rain comes in, our gardens need it. (it never arrived)

Let’s keep it simple and walk up the lanes from the village onto Longridge Fell. I’m only out for the exercise after all. Park at the little reservoir, Upper Dilworth, stop to watch the female tufted duck with her brood and then a brisk walk-up past the golf course onto Jeffery Hill. I can’t resist a look into Cardwell Quarry to see if the barn owl is still there. A couple of weeks ago I looked in and took a hurried photo of the roost which showed up the owl’s legs but nothing more! Today nothing at all. I sat for a while taking in the view over Chipping Vale and remembering all those summer evenings climbing up here with Longridge mates. It’s banned now due to some unfortunate contretemps between the landowner and some selfish youths. It doesn’t take much to destroy all the goodwill built up in the past. P1020112P1020115P1020128P1020130

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Two weeks ago – spot the legs.

Close by here the Roman Road was thought to have come up from Ribchester before a turn to head through the hills towards Newton, and then over to Lancaster. It is marked on the OS map, and today I can make out the line of it just below the modern road. P1020119

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Surprisingly there is only one car parked up on Jeffrey Hill where the walk-up onto Longridge Fell starts. I never meet the occupants. Taking the ‘balcony path’ along to the spring and then heading towards the ridge, it is bone dry. I am tempted to carry on up to the trig point, but sense tells me to go easy and besides I can see rain coming in across the Fylde Coast. Back down alongside the wall, past the ‘grim up north’ tree. 

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Straight across and alongside the upper trees of Cowley Brook Plantation. This plantation is becoming a favourite of mine for an evening stroll, and today I cut down through it meeting up with the brook where it disappears under the road. P1020137P1020138P1020140P1020143

This road takes me eventually, there are lots of ups and downs, back to the village, passing the lower side of the manicured golf course this time.

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Job done, now let’s see what the forecast is for tomorrow.

CaptureLOngridge Fell.

NEW WAYS ON THE EAST END OF THE FELL.

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The heat goes on, we somehow have avoided the thunderstorms rattling around the North West. Lethargy is the order of the day. But there is a breeze from the east, so some solace may be found up on the far end of Longridge Fell. Not again I hear you say that’s the third time in a week up there, but I’ve approached  from three different but well-used directions.  The lethargy prevents me going farther afield and the heat limits my delicate body’s distance and exertion. And anyhow I like my local fell. 

When I moved to Longridge over 50 years ago few people used the fell for recreation. The forest tracks were constructed, but I don’t think the public were encouraged onto the land. I remember the spruce trees looked relatively young, as was I at the time. A few public footpaths criss-crossed the once open fell sides which must have been planted up in the late 60s to 70s. The 7th Edition, One inch to the mile, map of 1969 shows only a few scattered plantations with no forestry tracks. There was a way up from Jeffry (Jeffrey) Hill to the trig point, then 1148 feet (now350 m) but few went farther along the ridge. This involved for  the most part delicate, muddy and pathless walking between the young trees. 

CaptureLOngridge fell 1964

Compare with the modern map.

CaptureLongridge fell

Over the years, thanks to intrepid walkers, a path developed along the ridge from the trig point all the way to Kemple End where the fell drops steeply to the Hodder. This was mainly in the new forest planting and could be very muddy in the winter. Mountain Bikers started using the forestry tracks and signage eventually appeared on the public right of ways. Old walls started to crumble but were still good orientation points. It has now become a popular walking and cycling destination. But come full circle and some areas are being harvested and the devastation that that brings can often wipe out the unofficial paths that had developed. On top of that recent storms have brought down many trees and affected paths can be difficult or impossible to follow. Clearance is for some reason slow paced. 

My planned walk today would complete a trilogy of routes up Longridge Fell, from the West, South and now East. I would be walking some of those ‘unofficial’ paths and encountering both forestry and storm damage.

From the rough parking at Kemple End the main forest road traverses the fell, but I want to see how the little path in the trees to the north had survived. Starting on the left, SD 689406, down the road from the parking. The path looks well-used and the few trees that had blown down seem to have been cleared, all very promising. Buzzards circle overhead and blue butterflies flit around my feet. There is not much breeze although most of the time I’m in the shade. Steady progress uphill. At the first junction I know I could go left and regain the main forest road, but I go right to keep to the ridge. The path narrows and is enclosed in the trees, I recognise familiar landmarks. Before long though it comes up against some forestry work from a couple of years ago, a large area of felled trees on the northern scarp. People have escaped back left to the forest road. and that’s what I do. After 200 m on that road I spot an orange arrow on a tree at the edge of the destruction, is this a way back to the original path? After some haphazard wandering through orange dotted trees I give up and escape into the felled area onto a track of sorts used by logging vehicles. It leads me in the right direction westwards close to where the old path ran and if people use it will become an established way. Somewhere at the end where it joins with a forest road, more felling here, used to be a viewpoint (Sam’s View, I never found out who Sam was) but with new growth on the scarp it is no more. All in all a right mess. The latest OS map no longer tells the truth.

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A good start.

 

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Pushing on.

 

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The old way through the trees on the ridge…

 

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…soon disappeared in forestry devastation.

 

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New trees have already been planted.

 

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Orange hope?

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Sam’s view?

I don’t feel like tackling the still obstructed way up to the trig point so simply follow an established path down to the forest road. I turn left and saunter back down to the car with the bulk of Pendle ahead. 

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No farther.

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Escape path.

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The main road.

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Proud Pendle.

Last year there was a good crop of orchids along here but nothing to show at present. The Bird’s Foot Trefoil, Mouse-ear Hawkweed and ‘Fox and Cubs’ are all flowering.  What delightful traditional countryside names.

You may wonder why I’ve not yet included a route onto the fell from the north, well have a look at those contours. Longridge Fell is a ‘cuesta’ with a steep escarpment to the north and a gentle slope to the south. I have come up from the north many times but any ascent at the moment would be punishing in the heat. I will leave it to you to plan your own way up those footpaths from the Chipping side. 

I fear for the fells as we have had no rain for weeks. One careless cigarette or a disposable barbecue, the weapon of choice for moorland fires, and we will be loosing a valuable habitat once more. Go careful out there.

***

  Capture Kemple End..JPG

 

CaptureESRI

Latest ESRI.

LONGRIDGE FELL – THE TRADE ROUTE.

 

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Every fell has an easy and hence popular way up it. The Victorians talked of ‘Tourist Routes’ up the Lakeland Fells, I have a copy of a 1960s Baddeley’s Lake District, a Ward Lock Red Guide aimed at the new tourist who wanted to explore the fells without any serious mountaineering. Wainwright popularised the fells, but give him his due he did seek out the less populated ways. A trade route or tourist way is the most frequently used route for ascending and descending a hill or mountain. Farther afield the term the “Yak Route” was used for climbing Mount Everest on a commercial expedition, you have seen the pictures of the queues on the South Col.

Well I’m not in the Himalayas or even the Lakes but on the humble Longridge Fell. I’ve been up it three times this week already, it’s in my backyard so to speak, trying to build up my fitness again after an enforced lay-off. There are three main entry points for climbing the fell. a path from Jeffrey Hill car park, my usual way. The forest track up from the lower fell road parking above Crowshaw. And the forest track from Kemple End at the far end of the fell road. Judging from the amount of cars parked up the middle option is the favourite, a simple march up the made up and wide forestry track.

So that was my option today,the hottest of the year so far. Despite my stating this to be the most popular way there were very few people about. Too hot for most and down in Longridge it was field day. Field days years ago were a community gathering, my children on many a themed float. A family day out. Nowadays, it has become a bit of a rebel rouser with the riot police usually in evidence later in the day. One to be avoided. English society has taken a downturn in the last decade. 

That links me into the ‘trade route’ up Longridge Fell. I almost changed the title of this post to ‘the irresponsible dog walkers’ route. I came across a dozen discarded dog poo bags within the first hundred yards from the road. And there were more sporadically as the track gained height. Trying to be impartial, who do these people, it’s not the dogs, think will clear up the mess? Not a good start to my walk. 20230610_150200

The shade I had hoped for was lacking due to recent forestry operations but once on the open ridge there was a cooling easterly. Before long I plunged back into the trees for the tricky section through windblown trees from the ‘beast from the east’, was it really 2018? Nothing much has been done to restore the path, in fact due to exposure more trees have come down since then. I’m beginning to know the best way through now. 20230610_151350

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Onwards down a track through naturally regenerating forest from harvesting a decade or so ago. I love this stretch past some of my favourite oak and beech trees. Although one of the ageing giants has fallen. 20230610_15591820230610_16061320230610_16064820230610_160955

If you know it there is a shady path back avoiding walking on the road. 20230610_145421

So a trade route up but a more adventurous way back down. Plenty of variety in three miles. Did I take any photos on my phone?  Just a few. I was glad I had some water to drink back at the car. It may thunder tonight, I hope it will. in fact, it is right now.

 

Longridge Fell.

A LITTLE LONGRIDGE LITTER.

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The gardening can wait. It’s hot and stuffy and my hay fever is irritating. Time to escape to higher ground not to far away. A quick lunch and I’m parked on Jeffrey Hill. It’s not rained for days and the ground is looking parched. What is usually a boggy path is now bone dry and trainers are all I need. There is a welcome breeze, and I’m soon ‘walking on sunshine’ with the familiar panoramic Bowland Fells stretching out above the vale of Chipping. Newly cut meadows adding to the patchwork. Yorkshire’s three peaks are in the far haze.

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All very idyllic you will think, but I also choose to do a litter pick at the same time. I thought there was less rubbish than usual on the path to start with, but by the time I’d completed my 3-mile circuit my sac was full. Dog poo bags, tissues, empty water bottles, cans and strangely a pair of underpants. I declare the fell litter free – but for how long?

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As an afterthought on the way home I called into our local bouldering Craig Y Longridge to check out any litter there. I’m pleased to say there were only a couple of bottles to remove and these had probably been thrown from the road above. Well done climbers for looking after their own environment. By now the crag was in the shade and I enjoyed a bit of exercise on some of the easier problems.

Back to the garden and those weeds. 20230605_173554

***

CaptureLongridge Fell

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 mind set. (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 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 and yet everything looks OK with the bridge. It was only when we walked up the lane did we find a landslide that had taken half the road down into the Brock. 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 the 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 farm house itself is named Throstle Nest with one of its barns converted to luxury living. The access lane soon has 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)

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.

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.