Category Archives: Cicerone’s Lancashire Walks.

THE WRONG ROUTE.

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Following on from my last post which described a half aborted climbing session, today we now have a walk that didn’t quite work out. I’m on a losing streak. Again I’m with Mike reconnoitring for walks he could lead with his monthly walking group.

Remember the stipulations  “should start at a place with toilets, not too much rough ascent, between three and four miles, the fewer stiles the better and finishing at a pub for lunch”  He thought he had found one in a book of short walks in Lancashire, I didn’t catch the title. This time on the outskirts of Blackburn, Pleasington in fact, incorporating Wainwright’s Memorial on Billinge Hill and the popular Witton Country Park. Sounded promising when he invited me to join him.

Things didn’t go well when we struggled to park near the Railway Inn, yes there is a station here for commuting into Preston or Blackburn. We eventually settled on roadside parking up the lane which wouldn’t be ideal. Shame that the nearby Butler’s Arms is closed. We set off, walking up the lane past the impressive Pleasington Priory. Pleasington Priory – Wikipedia We don’t even think to have a look inside, if it is open. DSC00478

Up a smaller lane past expensive building conversions to the gates of the Old Hall. DSC00483

A track goes left here, and we soon come to our next problem, a loose eroded bank leading to an awkward stile. Probably no go for those of his group not into mountaineering. I didn’t think to take a photo of the obstacle.

A wandering route through rough fields brings us out onto a lane I recognise from previous Witton Weaver Walks which we now follow up to the Yellow Hills, named from the abundant gorse that blooms up here – but not in September it seems. There are always a few people up here because of Wainwright’s Memorial plaque, a toposcope with a rather poor impression of Alfred in the centre. We gaze in all directions, but distant views are hazy, nevertheless a wonderful lookout. This ascent would have been better in reverse with the vista in front of you. Niggly. DSC00490

I never feel at ease through the next open field which always has cows and occasionally a bull. Today they all seemed very docile, perhaps it’s just my fears.

DSC00492Entering the woods of Billinge Hill we pay particular attention to the guide’s directions. There are paths everywhere up here, some I recognise, but mainly I am ‘lost’ blundering about in a hopeful direction. Using a bit of creative thinking we follow the steep and slippery paths down alonside a ravine. Mike is not happy, any of his group who may have made it this far would be now struggling. DSC00485DSC00493DSC00494DSC00497

We in turn struggle down to enter Witton Park and civilisation. Ice cream vans, car parks, sports pitches, dog walkers. DSC00498

We are lucky to have this rural expanse open to all on the edge of a major town. Witton Country Park covers 480 acres of countryside with pretty picnic spots, walks, nature trails, play areas, sports pitches and a visitor centre. The estate was once owned by the Feildens, a wealthy textile family, who built and lived in Witton House from 1800 and created the park at the same time. From 1900 the house was empty for long periods and during both world wars the house and estate were used by the army. Dry-rot set in. Witton House was demolished in 1952, after being sold to Blackburn Corporation in 1946 along with the estate. DSC00504

We join the crowds and follow the sluggish River Darwen down the valley to Butler’s Bridge. Now on a surprisingly busy road ahead are the gates leading to Pleasington Cemetery.  I’ve never ventured farther, but the notice board shows a vast complex of burial grounds. DSC00502

We divert to continue into the woods and up a sunken lane which eventually is captured by barbed wire into a most unfriendly narrow walkway back to the priory. DSC00508DSC00509

We have had 4 miles of exercise through an interesting environment. It took us for some reason three hours and Mike has ruled it out from his future itineraries.

Last year I did a similar, but better balanced walk , from Cicerone’s Walks In Lancashire, an excellent selection, which also took in Hoghton Bottoms in a seven-mile circuit.

Back to the drawing board for Mike.

***

 Witton (2)

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – GRAGARETH’S MEN.

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Well there were JD and me, the three scientists doing a peat survey for some research organisation, the Three Stone Men who have been there for who knows how long, and a few others stone ones scattered around. The peat survey was interesting as we are just waking up to the importance of peat as an important carbon storage resort. We were happy to sit in the shelter of the Three Men as there was a distinctly cold breeze coming from the Northwest. A good opportunity to take a break and eat our sandwiches.

Our journey up the motorway had not been straight forward as I missed the turn-off to Caton and the Lune Valley. Another junction farther north and JD’s phone chose an alternative route over towards Kirkby Lonsdale, although eventually on the A65 we ignored the lady navigator and followed the sign up to the little hamlet of Ireby.  I shall not reveal where we parked, but there should be space by the telephone (book) box. Surely we are in Yorkshire by now, but no the Lancastrians have pushed a finger into Cumbria and Yorkshire.  We are in fact out to climb the highest (allegedly) hill in the Red Rose county, walk number 16 in Mark Sutcliffe’s Cicerone guidebook.

Up to now we have been walking on a distinct lane out of Ireby and then the tarmac road heading up the fell from Leck. All easy going, gaining height almost effortlessly, at least we could keep up a good conversation without getting out of puff. JD is super fit at the moment having recently completed a pilgrim route to Santiago, a Scottish trip and The Dales Way. I was hoping that his all-inclusive hotel stay in Menorca with his wife might have slowed him down. We are in limestone territory. P1020289P1020292P1020298

This road leads to a remote sheep farm. I used to park up along here for exploring the nearby Leck Fell potholes. Short Drop Cave was always a favourite, lowering yourself in with your feet dangling in fresh air in the darkness, dare you let go of the rock? Of course, you did and only dropped a few inches! You could explore the channel for some distance and then worry about getting out again. But today we were heading up to those stone men visible on the hillside above. Conversation dwindles on the steepest scrambling bit, look at the contours, and we are all too ready for that rest at the Three Men. P1020305

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The Three Men.

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The Three Ladies.

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Lunch over we chat to the peat surveyors before strolling the last section to the lonely trig point on Gragareth, 627 m, the highest in Lancashire. Now this is where some debate comes in, farther north across the barren moor is Green Hill, still in Lancashire, and marked on the OS map as 628 m. We don’t fancy the two-mile boggy trudge up there. But help is at hand – in 2014 the Database of British and Irish Hills suggested  “Gragareth replaces Green Hill as Lancashire county top”.  Gragareth having a height of 628 metres, 100 metres east of the trig point, while Green Hill is 627.5 metres. Who knows?  P1020324

Anyhow, we slink off along the wall southwards. But I have forgotten to tell you about the views from that highest point. Morecambe Bay, Lakeland hills, nearby Barbon fells, all those rounded hills up to Dentdale, Whernside and of course stately Ingleborough, distant Pendle and the Bowland Fells, quite a collection.

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Northwards.

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Whernside.

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Ingleborough.

On down along the wall and then a vague path down to the ‘Turbary Road’ above Kingsdale, a track used by peat cutters – yes we have been destroying the land long before climate change was thought of. This area is full of caves, potholes and dry riverbeds, but the way missed most of them out. On reflection a few small diversions to peer into these limestone features would have added interest. P1020331

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Marble Steps Pot.

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Twistleton Scar End.

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Turbary Road.

Once on the lane we made good progress stopping only at a bench for a drink, out of the vegetation crept a giant dung beetle. P1020348

Masongill looked delightful.P1020349

Freshly cut green fields, and we were soon crossing the ancient clapper bridge into Ireby.

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It was good to be back in Limestone Country, as you can see the weather improved as the day went on. Eight and a half miles with 1700ft of ascent – I’m still thinking imperial.

***

CaptureGragareth (2)

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)

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)

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 Herring Gulls, 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 – 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.

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.

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)

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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