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. 
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. 
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. 
If you know it there is a shady path back avoiding walking on the road. 
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.
If 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. 
A 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.
I 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.
The 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.
The lime kiln gives a clue as to the bedrock hereabouts, but I shall soon be high in gritstone country.
The 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.
Looking 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.
This week I have been alternating short walks and flat cycle rides with nothing of note to report. Everything came to a standstill yesterday with the collision of cold winds from the north with a front from the south. Amber warning. My son cancelled a lunchtime visit from Manchester and I watched the snowflakes falling in the afternoon. During the night things must have turned nasty as today I woke to a couple of inches of snow. (The radio told of far worse conditions in the Pennines) It was interesting to try and identify the tracks across my back garden, one doesn’t know what transpires in the night. Something I should resolve either with sitting up into the wee hours or more likely installing a motion detecting camera.
I may have used this title for a post in the past. Whilst fellow bloggers are exploring Manchester, White Nancy, Covid and Wildlife crimes I’m content with a walk around my local lanes. After my drubbing, is that a word, the other day on the Guild Wheel cycle route contentment is the prime objective. I live on the edge of the countryside, but only just with all the new developments, so for many walks I don’t need my car – just set off from the front door.
I stop to talk to a farmer about the winters we never have these days. (tempting fate I know). Along comes a car which stops to reveal a dog walking friend fresh off the fell and heading for a nearby farm café, a good catch up ensures. I’m then admiring the hedge layering skills along the way and am lucky enough to come across the skilled labourer himself. A chain saw now makes the labour easier, but he has to be careful with the final close cut. A bill hook finishes off the branch severing, leaving a slender life giving, bent over, horizontal, stem for further growth. The whole process is to keep the hawthorn hedge thick at the base and stock proof in the future. He seems happy in his work and as he says ” jobs a goodun”
Not bad for a local walk of 5 miles.
Down on the River Wyre in St. Michael’s a tragic drama is transpiring, a 45-year-old local lady, Nicola Bulley, has gone missing whilst walking her dog by the river. You will have seen it on the national news, the trauma her family are going through as the days pass, without resolution, doesn’t bear thinking about.
