Category Archives: Longridge Fell

ANOTHER SHORT WALK – LONGRIDGE FELL.

Looking to Bleasdale Fells.

The last time I came up here the ground was the boggiest that I could remember, tonight after what seems like weeks of good weather it was completely different. In fact it is as dry as I can recall. The walk turned out to be short not like the last one because of an obstructed stile, but from too much summit chatting. The distant Bowland and Yorkshire views were a little hazy. There was very little bird life, a couple of skylarks and a cuckoo in the woods. The bracken was rapidly beginning to thrust up its green shoots. The heather has some way to go. Chipping Vale below looked very fertile with many fields being cut neatly for silage.

My first encounter was with a mountain biker at the summit cairn, conversation started politely but we soon moved on to many shared cycling experiences and adventures. He had a huge knowledge of past bikes but I trumped him with my previous ownership of a 1940’s Baines ‘Flying Gate’ cycle in my teens. An hour must have passed before he shot off down the track just as a local couple arrived at the trig puffing and panting. They are trying to improve on their time from the carpark as well as finding those little painted stones that are appearing everywhere. Talk now turned to the Bowland Fells and tracks so by the time I left there was no time really to complete my intended circuit. I just turned round and trotted back the way I’d come. Actually there was some degree of urgency introduced when I realised I’d left my wallet in full view on the passenger seat. The car and wallet were of course intact when I arrived back.

I should do this walk or its longer variant more often in the summer evenings and there’s no knowing whom I’ll meet and what information will be gleaned.

*****

A SOUTHERN CIRCUIT ON LONGRIDGE FELL.

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I’ve been up Longridge Fell three times this week, all from different directions. This lack of originality is partially based on my reluctance to drive far, partly on the weather [torrential rain on alternate days put boggy Fairsnape out of the question] and mainly on my slow re-acquaintance with hilly country. Anyhow it is a great little fell, the most southerly named fell in the UK with the easy to remember 350m height.

Today, Thursday 5th April, was fantastic, you couldn’t have wished for a better Spring like day. Blue skies, no wind and warmish sun [that’s that round yellow thing in the sky]. Of course the paths were still muddy and slippy but that’s par for the course at this time of year in Lancashire. A few groups were out on longer rambles and the dog strollers were making the best of the day.

I parked at Higher Hodder Bridge and tackled the steep Birdy Brow road head on, One gains height quickly and just past Kemple End the forest track leaves the road zigzagging into the trees. I was already sweating as the morning warmed up. The forest track on a day like this reminded me of walking through Southern Spain on the GR 7 where there is much forest. I was going to say ‘wish I was there now’ but on a day like this you can’t beat Lancashire. A hidden little path through the trees brings one out at a lovely open viewpoint with the Bowland Fells full on, the frosty Yorkshire peaks off to the East and Chipping Vale at your feet,

Higher on the fell I came across forest workers hand planting thousands of spruce saplings in rough ground that had been felled a couple of years ago. These are disease resistant ones and I will watch their growth over coming years.

Knowing that the track was blocked ahead with fallen trees I again took to smaller paths through the trees some of which are old Scots Pines, an enchanting place. I’ve been known to bivy in this secret place with the bonus of deer wandering past in the night. Further on is the ‘wall path’ leading towards the summit. Years ago this path was hardly visible but has become more used and hence more boggy, most of the wall that ran alongside it has been now used as infill for the path.

Once out in the open the white trig point was clearly seen ahead with more stunning views of Chipping Vale and the Bowland Hills. If I had kept walking down the ridge I would have been home in an hour but I had a circuit to complete so headed south on forest roads, with Pendle Hill dominant ahead above the Ribble Valley, to come out at the road above Crowshaw Quarry where I had a bite to eat in the sunshine.

The bridle way down past Green Gore to Hurst Green is very familiar but I realised I nearly always walk it in the opposite direction. One of my favourite places is Dean Brook as it descends off the fell and through old mill placements at Hurst Green. The bridge there is a great launching pad for poo sticks.

I came out at the Almshouses which somehow were brought down from Kemple End. The Bayley Arms pub seems to be closed so I carried straight across on Smithy Lane through muddy fields and into the grounds of Stoneyhurst College.

I took the private road to Hodder Court where I picked up the popular footpath alongside the Hodder river. This is a roller coaster of a path in the trees above the river as I headed back to Higher Hodder Bridge. A delight with the fast flowing Hodder below, emerging Wild Garlic under my feet and expectant bird song in the air.

That was 5 hours of my life well spent.

*****

What is happening up on Longridge Fell?

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Another of my ‘whats happening?’ posts.

The day had not started well, I’d set my alarm early, for me, so I’d get to my eagerly awaited dental appointment at 9am. I awoke feeling strange. Putting my hand out to the radio nothing happened. Pressing the light switch nothing happened. Checking my mobile twice or even thrice the time said 9.30. 9.30 where was I? It dawned on me in the middle of an electricity cut. Not even my land line worked. Reconnected later in the morning apologies to the dentist were due. I didn’t come round till lunchtime. By then my phone was ringing, the sun was shining and I’d arranged a walk up Longridge Fell.

Mike was recovering from a hip operation and I was keen to try my legs on rougher terrain. Mid afternoon we were parked up on the rough ground above Crowshaw Quarry. I won’t bore you with our usual route on the forest tracks to the trig point and back.

A few things were different today…

Access onto the open fell from the forest was always by a through stile in the wall just below the trig point. Somebody, presumably, Lancashire County Council, has become disheartened by damage to the said wall and installed a metal kissing gate. Not really in keeping with a fell top but maybe more enduring.

It was wet on the way to the trig point. But we were soon at the top and greeted by a young Patterdale Terrier full of energy and inquisitiveness.

A little further on was the wooden gate which has breached the wall for years but suddenly seems to have been chewed to bits. The type of chewing seen round horse enclosures. No horses up here so we wondered deer, wild boar, beavers, yeti… We walked on keeping a close eye behind us on the woods.

Arriving, without being chewed or worse, onto the forest road below we couldn’t believe the amount of damage from the storm a month ago. Our onward route at one point was completely obstructed by fallen trees. I’d seen the same on Beacon Fell a couple of weeks ago but for some reason hadn’t expected it here. Some of the trees were leaning ominously across the track but most had been completely uprooted or snapped. It will take some time with a chain saw to clear things. A way round was found.

A little further on and what is happening here …

We had walked through sun, rain and sleet, the road and car reached.

Nothing stays the same.

Some deep unconscious spark made me think of…

*****

A NOTHING DAY ON LONGRIDGE FELL.

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The weather was ‘nothing’ this morning, from my house I could see a mist hanging over Longridge Fell. The exciting curling match on TV, GB v Italy, had me enthralled and delayed any outdoor activity. As an aside a curling ice rink is being constructed up the A6, there aren’t many around and the Winter Olympics coverage should give it a boost when it opens. I hazard a guess that they had scheduled its opening to coincide better with the Olympics.

A late decision was made to get out and walk the roads at the western end of Longridge Fell. A dry circuit on tarmac but with some steeper sections than I been willing to do recently. I didn’t expect any views but wanted to build on my recovery strategy and put my hip ligaments to the test. They have been improving with recent flat walking and my resistance-band side stepping exercises. To that end I completed the circuit quite quickly and was pleased with the 700 ft height ascended. Job done.

The road goes up past the Golf Course where a little activity was taking place – the wall running alongside the road took my attention for awhile as I admired the shades of green – the road itself has suffered this winter and like most others in the area will not be repaired quickly.

The busy New Drop inn is at the cross roads, the walls of this inn carry a white cross insignia and history records it was previously known as the White Cross Inn. Why the change and I wonder what the cross signified? The road I’ve travelled is the old road to Clitheroe over Longridge Fell which avoiding the valley bottoms. Turning left I follow a straight road which I always thought was part of the Ribchester Roman Road over Longridge Fell heading for the Salter Fell road and on to Carlisle but a dotted line on the map suggests the Roman Road was to the west of the modern road.

There was only a vague view of Beacon Fell from Jeffrey Hill where the Roman Road changed direction. More nothingness.

On the return leg back to Longridge I couldn’t resist a look into Cardwell Quarry. Climbing here was banned by the landowner a few years ago and he has refused to be persuaded otherwise. I was surprised that the rock was not completely covered in vegetation due to lack of use. The outlook from here on a summer’s evening made a visit worthwhile – maybe someday.

Down past the golf course once again and today’s modest road circuit was completed. That constitutes a ‘nothing’ day in my eyes.

***

Did you know the Americans celebrate an annual National Nothing Day on January 16th, [I had my timing wrong]. Monty Python characteristically took the idea further with their Adventures of Ralph Mellish – nothing happened …..

FIRST WALK OF 2018 – Longridge Fell.

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January 1st 2018 – I have to start somewhere.

The phone goes late in the morning and I realise my head is still heavy. The forecast shows a two hour window break in the rain. A quick breakfast and Mike and I are parked up with scores of others on Longridge Fell. Everyone greets us and friends are encountered. Dogs are in the majority most of them small inquisitive, nonthreatening, breeds, I can cope with.

To be honest the walking was not that great,the distant Ribblesdale views limited, the forest tracks are fortunately dry and with my poles we made good progress. The detour up to the trigpoint was not taken in view of the sodden conditions. Some recent tree felling has confused me as to our whereabouts. Eventually we wind down on the right track and head back to the carpark in cold sleet at the end of the two hours weather window. Such is the nature of walking in this part of the county. At least I’ve been out on the first day of the new year. Back to the Aga and mince pies.

PARAPENTES OVER LONGRIDGE FELL.

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As I drove up Longridge Fell for a stroll today the sky was full of moths. Coming to terms with the perspective I realised they were parapenters enjoying the northerly winds and presumably updrafts on that side of the fell, what do I know. I diverted to the parking on Jeffrey Hill, Cardwell House, where they were all taking off from. There must be a busy social network between the activists who then gather at the most appropriate site, like these moths. Some were obviously beginners taking a short flight off the gentle slope to land safely a few feet down, others were soaring high and exploring further along the fell. I counted more than twenty in the air at once. Usually Parlick across the valley is busy with parapenters but today the wind conditions have brought them all here, quite a sight.

Meanwhile down below, somewhere near Chipping, comes the sound of guns murdering pheasants bred for the purpose – everyone to their own. Up here many pheasants wander freely in the woods and I spot a Roe Deer scuttling off. To stretch my legs I take a short walk along the road in the sunny November weather with the Three Peaks clearly visible as well as the Bowland Fells and Pendle in other directions. Nothing else to report.

A BREATH OF FRESH AIR.

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I’ve spent a couple of rather fraught days planning and booking up and coming trips and this afternoon I felt the need to break free and walk up the fell. The weather since I’ve returned from France has been atrocious but today there are blue skies in between the showers.

I park up at Cardwell House on Jeffrey Hill. The signpost at the fell gate says ‘concessionary path’ but is clearly marked on the OS map as a public footpath. My mind immediately goes into conspiracy theory mode made worse by the newly erected grouse shooting butts nearby. Anyhow the path, concessionary or not, leads up the fell. Fields in the Vale of Chipping below are flooded. Ahead clear visibility shows Penyghent and later Ingleborough.

The best of the heather colour has gone and the ground is wet, I’ve seen worse but not necessarily in September. There is a lot of water flowing from the little spring passed on the way.

The air is fresh, north westerly. As I walk up to the trig point views open up in all directions. What a great sense of freedom up here, why don’t I do this every evening? At one time when my resolve was stronger I did.

Walking back down a different way I was pleased with new forest clearings and planting of some deciduous trees making the area more attractive.

The car park on return was quite busy yet I saw no one on the fell, strange. Less than an hour’s stroll but all that fresh air has put me in a far more positive mood. Tomorrow evening…

PASTURES NEW – a day out with Pixie.

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Two experienced locals, JD and I, were taking ‘Batesieman’ and his dog Pixie for an exploratory walk over Longridge Fell. It was a perfect day, sunny and warm, with good visibility in all directions. We were lost [disorientated] in a field without a map and no obvious signage. I can’t really blame JD as he had just appeared on the scene from an earlier walk clutching a few wild strawberries, nowhere as good as the raspberries we found later, and agreed to accompany us further. For a while, I had wanted to visit Higher Deer House, marked prominently on the map. It turned out to be an unoccupied and undistinguished farmhouse in the middle of nowhere on the south side of Longridge Fell, The surrounding pastures were full of cows, calves and the occasional scary bull. This area had once been a medieval deer park on the Shireburn Estate long before the establishment of Stoneyhurst College.

We had started off walking up Longridge Fell on the track past Green Thorn Farm and onto the ridge at a clearing with great views over Bowland and also the Yorkshire Three Peaks. There has been a lot of forest clearing in the last few years because of the fungus affecting the spruce, but it is amazing to see the regeneration of small trees occurring on the open ground – are these commercially viable or disease-resistant? In front of us was the mighty Pendle Hill. The forest track brought us out at Kemple End where a compulsory visit to the quarry was taken, the site of Batesie and my exploration a decade ago, the routes don’t get a lot of traffic.

Onwards through the complex of houses at Kemple End. The Almshouses built here in the 17th century were moved and reconstructed in Hurst Green after the Second World War. I think of this as an amazing endeavour and would like to know more of their history.

We had followed a sunken track which I’ve always thought of as an old sledge way for transporting stone from the quarries, but I now wonder was part of the deer park boundary. Once orientated we passed the deer house and wandered down to the footbridge over the hidden Dean Brook. Then up to join the bridleway to Greengore an interesting medieval hunting lodge of the Shireburn estate, noticeable are the buttresses and mullioned windows.

The bridleway continues up past Crowshaw House to arrive at the fell road where we had started. JD went home with his strawberries for tea.

All that remained was to show Batesie Crowshaw Quarry, the latest bouldering venue on Longridge Fell. He was impressed. Pixie wasn’t.

Here’s a map to show you where we went. A convivial afternoon stroll.

Around the block.

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I can’t believe I was climbing a few days ago in a T shirt as this morning the cold dull weather continues towards Easter. I rouse myself to do a favourite short walk from home to see what is happening in the countryside. Longridge Fell looks broodingly down on the start of my walk into a field full of seagulls, they are unusual so they must be feeding on something – possibly recent muck spreading.

A glance at the 1:25000 map shows many small ponds in these fields, they are the remains of Marl Pits dug in the 19th century to provide lime rich clay for spreading on the fields to improve the soil. They now provide an interesting habitat for wildlife and plants. One near here unfortunately is used by the duck shooting fraternity, today the mallards were paddling happily. A couple of larger ponds used to keep my children happy for hours fishing for god knows what.

I passed a few metal gates which are for access to a line of aqueducts crossing this area, the Thirlmere aqueduct to Manchester and the Hodder aqueduct to Blackpool. Generally the former has black gates whilst the latter green. A useless bit of information.

On the lanes Blackthorn was in flower before its leaves appeared, the reverse of the Hawthorn, May Blossom. The phrase “Ne’er cast a clout till May be out” was particularly pertinent today in the cold wind. Better information.

Blackthorn.

Sheep were with lambs and the cattle were being let out into the fields. I came across a particularly threatening breed of sheep.

Pit Bull sheep.

Since I was last this way a memorial seat has been erected – “he loved this farm” a lovely sentiment.

Passing three popular hostelries …

Ferraris Country Hotel.

Derby Arms.

The Alston.

… shunning them all I arrived home in under a couple of hours. The weather shows no sign of improving but at least I’ve had some exercise.

LONGRIDGE FELL – YET AGAIN.

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I had no sooner booked a trip to the Canary Islands, to get away from our dismal weather, when the temperature here shot up and the sun was shining. Will it last? Better get out, make the most of it and do a bit of training. Now when I say training I mean go for a short walk. I chose Longridge Fell again as I was hoping for clear views, but which way up? It is so easy to park up near Cardwell House but I decided to reverse my usual routes for variety. This turned out to be quite different and not entirely successful, for some reason my anti clockwise circuit was strangely unbalanced. I couldn’t really say why – the wrong views, the wrong gradients, the wrong approach.

So what was new today, apart from the sunny weather? There has been a lot of timber extraction on the fell in the last few years, partly due to the Ramorum fungus and also with maturity. Interestingly I’ve spent a few days recently cutting down a Blue Spruce in my garden. It suddenly lost all its needles a couple of years ago and has not recovered. Spruces are susceptible to the disease and I wonder whether I brought it back from the fell on my boots. The tracks on the fell have been improved to take the heavy machines and lorries involved. They only need to quarry superficially into the fellside to obtain hardcore for the tracks. I had just passed one of these quarries when I came across a lorry and trailer being loaded with cut timber. It looked a slick operation.

Distant Pendle Hill.

Ready made hardcore quarry.

Smaller tracks took me to the top and the views were clearer than the other day, the Yorkshire Three Peaks were prominent and across Chipping Vale the Bowland Fells distinct. On my way down the ‘balcony’ path I started to meet people coming up from the now busy carpark.

A good 5.5 miles. I was home for lunch.

LONGRIDGE FELL – UP AND DOWN DUDDEL BROOK FROM RIBCHESTER.

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Oh, The grand old Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men;
He marched them up to the top of the hill,
And he marched them down again.

And when they were up, they were up,
And when they were down, they were down,
And when they were only half-way up,
They were neither up nor down.

Today’s walk followed that futile theme and the rhyme filled my head.

Duddel Brook rises quite high on the southern slopes of Longridge Fell and reaches the Ribble in Ribchester. This Brook has carved its way down the hill and created a wooded valley [seen on the OS map as a green caterpillar] for the most part secretive. The other obvious stream is Dean Brook passing through Hurst Green. Their importance in the past was related to the many small mills powered by the rushing waters and hence they are worthy of exploration today.

From near the Roman Museum in Ribchester, I set off along the Ribble to where the Duddel Brook issues close to a Roman bathhouse whose outline has been excavated. Normally field paths from Stone Bridge would lead across to Gallows Lane but at the moment they are virtually flooded so I followed the main road before turning up the Lane. A mullioned cottage at Lower Dutton is outstanding. I gained access to the brook a little higher and wandered through the beech woods alongside the water. An old mill appeared with signs of a mill race, lodge and ruined wheel installations. I believe that bobbin making was the main industry here but I may be wrong. Above the deep valley there was a brief view of Dutton Hall a prominent C17 house with a commanding aspect over the Ribble Valley. I crossed the brook on bridges and eventually deep in the valley recrossed by a shallow ford.

Start and finish – Duddel Brook entering the Ribble.

Roman Bath House.

Dutton Hall.
Wikipedia.

The path climbed away from the stream into fields. A lone oak tree, perhaps 300yrs old, was a waymarker across the field. On the road a small wholesale unit purveyed vitamins as well as ‘sweets’, I didn’t

only half-way up – neither up nor down

Again I took the easy drier tarmac option, walking up Huntington Hall Lane past several expensively converted houses and barns. After a steep section, Huntington Hall itself appeared on the right, a 17century house which has had a lot of money spent on it in recent years. At the road corner I was back into the fields with views back to the Ribble Valley, I meant to say this was a rare, sunny, dry day. Cresting a hill Intack Farm came into view, again a place spending lots of money with a horse arena right across the footpath but the diversion was no problem and well signed – but is it legal? A quick peep into Crowshaw Quarry showed it to be remarkably dry, could be bouldering here later this week. Crossing the road the main forest track was taken eventually leading up to the trig point on Longridge Fell. Chipping Vale and the Bowland Hills were fairly clear but that was not really today’s objective.

Huntingdon Hall.

Longridge Fell Trig Point.

when they were up, they were up

I came down by the track to Lennox Farm near where the Duddel Brook probably starts life. A lane took me past Goodshaw Farm where the new lambs were being tended, the farmer told me he had 600 sheep to lamb this year and was concerned about the wet fields he was placing them into. Below the farm was an old barn, Smith Bottom, which on close inspection revealed two perfectly shaped cruck frames thus giving a clue to its medieval age. Down steeply through beech woods overgrown with rhododendrons to a bridge over our brook. This lane leads up to the highly secretive Dutton Manor in its cloak of trees.

A young Duddel Brook.

Smith Bottom cruck barn.

Trees hiding Dutton Manor.

Across the next road was Duddel Farm on its exposed hill. The farmer was feeding cattle in the barns and bemoaning the wet conditions, but despite that remained cheerful and chatty – we had many mutual friends and interests. He was right about the conditions as the next few fields leading back to Ribchester were almost afloat and the mud slowly crept above my knees.

I don’t normally take selfies.

I was keen to reach the last two listed buildings at Stydd. First was St. Saviours a simple C12 chapel. Its plane interior has a flagged floor with ancient gravestones, a stone coffin and wooden pulpit and rails. Very evocative. Further down the lane is Stydd Almshouse built in 1728 to house the poorest parishioners. It is an architectural gem with its central staircase and diminutive size.

St. Saviours.

So back to where I started.

when they were down, they were down

I would like the challenge of an entire ascent of Duddel Brook – obviously in dry summer conditions and with a good degree of so called trespassing. Watch this space.

Simply passing time.

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BANG – I thought I had been shot!

The morning had been frosty but bright, and I was out on my bike for a few miles round the country lanes. Well wrapped up I was enjoying cruising downhill into Longridge when there was this explosion from my back wheel which immediately deflated. Luckily only half a mile to wheel the bike home and investigate the damage. The tyre had a large hole in it as had the inner tube. I realised my tyres were old and perished – hence the explosion. Looking back I should have been more circumspect before setting off as my saddlebag had been turned into a mouse nest whilst I’d been an inactive cyclist. They had chewed up a rag, a chocolate bar and a spare inner tube with its packet in my absence. Next morning it was down to the bike shop for a couple of new tyres and inner tubes – after the horse has bolted.

Nesting saddle bag.

Since I’ve been back from sunny Tenerife it has been bright and cold, but dry, here, I don’t normally like this time of year and try to go abroad, but I must admit the weather is superb for November. Hence, the sudden urge to go cycling. Whilst away I managed to violently ‘back heal’ the toilet basin in our small bathroom, no alcohol was involved – well maybe a little the night before. Bruised heals are painful, and I haven’t been keen to do much walking. A session at Preston climbing wall proved how unfit I was compared to my mates who have recently returned from Kalymnos. So afternoons have been spent up at CraigYLongridge, the local bouldering crag. I’ve surprised myself being able to have a session or two whilst the thermometer only showed 6C degrees providing the sun was shining. A few other brave souls have joined me.

A cold Craigy.

So the point of this post, apart from bicycle maintenance, is just to acknowledge how lucky I am to live within 5mins of climbable rock and within a network of Lancashire lanes in Chipping Vale just made for cycling.

Simple.

END OF THE LINE…

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Bouldering in Crowshaw Quarry.

Since I last did a new problem up here https://bowlandclimber.com/2015/09/01/what-have-you-done-today/ I’ve been trying a traverse line on the far left-hand wall, hands on a sloping top ledge and intermittent footholds below. I always seem to be on this problem just before I go off on a walking holiday, and I’m worried about my ankles if I fall off. So today I seek moral and physical [moving the pad] help from one of my oldest, and arguably favourite, climbing partners, Dor, who now unfortunately doesn’t partake. I start on the easy bit, climbing up a flake to reach the traverse. A couple of damp hand holds lead left to a large foot ledge before the committing moves up to the highest point. From here I can use a couple of decent footholds as I hand traverse on slopers. There is a section where you have to smear to make progress and I repeatedly chicken out, and I skittle back, all good warming up. Frustrated with my progress and aware of my spotter’s commitment, I try again maybe four times with the same retreating result. So forget about moving the pad – place it further left and go for it. Good left hand whilst my right foot is on a hold, left foot on a smear, slap across and down with the right hand, smear both feet and then stretch to a left foothold and follow with the hands, and it is done.

End of the line.

“Even if you’re old and grey
you still got something to say” Traveling Wilburys.

Thanks, Dor.

A plethora of bilberries.

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As I parked up at Kemple End little groups of bending figures dotted the fell side, they are clutching plastic containers and their purple fingers announce their activity – bilberry picking. We are all eating a lot of BLUEBERRIES these days, they are commercially grown, are widely available in our shops and keep for several days. Their close relative the BILBERRY [WHINBERRY or WHORTLEBERRY] Vaccinium sp. grows wild and being much softer doesn’t keep so is better known by the foragers amongst us. From July onwards on Longridge Fell the low bushes are covered in purple berries which I must admit are fiddly to pick but are delicious to eat.

In southern France they are known as myrtille, in Italy mirtillo and are commonly found in local markets and delicious tarts. Professional collectors are seen out in the hills using wooden combs to quickly harvest large amounts which are pooled in large canisters which are carried down later in the day. It all looks hard work.

I drop down into the quarry where the other collectors don’t venture and am able to pick at leisure on laden bushes. I quickly fill a small container before a spot of bouldering on rather damp rock this morning. Mouthful’s of berries intersperse problems. The bell heather is just coming into flower and the flowering blackberries promise abundant fruit in a month or so.

I remember summer days’ climbing in the Lakes on multi pitch routes where every belay ledge was covered in ripe bilberries, scrumptious.

Oh it’s started to rain again, better get home and bake that pie.

Longridge Fell – then and now.

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There is a stream coming off Longridge Fell crossed by a small bridge. I often walk this way. When my two oldest grand children were young this was an ideal spot for a bit of ‘damn building’ and became a favourite of theirs.

This weekend I had staying my youngest grandchild and he was keen to follow suit. His father took a picture of us, then remembered back to previous times and low and behold there on his phone was April 2002.

Uncanny coincidence. Wish I had evidence of visits with my boys when they were that young in the 70s.

2002.

2016.

Longridge Fell – better late than never.

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I don’t like to admit to many deadly sins, or virtues for that matter, but SLOTH was on the list today. I hadn’t got round to arranging a walk in the Lakes or in Yorkshire with friends and sloth set in whilst I was having my morning coffee back in bed. One voice said get up and going, the other persuaded me to linger listening to the radio. The morning evaporated whilst the sun shone outside. Something stirred in me and after a quick brunch I was parked up on Longridge Fell. I stopped to take a photo of rubbish dumped in the car park, picked some up later, and noticed the passenger door of the red car next to me was wide open with lots of articles on the front seat. Not daring to touch anything I closed the door and hoped no opportunistic thieves were about.

I have written about Longridge Fell many times, so what was new today? Some more large chunks of trees have been felled whether because of the Ramorum fungus affecting the Larch or routine forestry work. There are forest roads which give good walking but I can’t come up here without visiting the trig. point, Spire Hill 350m. This diversion involves muddy tracks which today were semi frozen allowing one to break unexpectedly through the crust into the icy depths. Haziness over the Bowland Fells and Pendle precluded decent photography. Once I was back on the main forest track I strode out to Kemple End, I don’t normally go this far as it entails road walking back to the car but today I fancied the extra few miles. Sun glasses would have been useful against the low sun in the west. I caught up with a sprightly walker, he had been out all day having caught the bus from Preston and done a circuit of Longridge Fell and the Hodder. At the age of 75 he was out regularly and knew the Bowland area intimately, a true fell wanderer. He obviously declined my offer of a lift into Longridge. Wish I had got his name.

At the end of my walk I came through the small bouldering venue of Crowshaw Quarry and I’m itching to get back on some of the problems in Spring. Talking of itching my friend John phoned me last week suggesting a trip back to Gran Canaria where we have unfinished business on the GR13. Needless to say flights are booked.

PS The red car had gone – hope all OK.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TODAY? Tweeter and the Monkey Man.

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Bouldering the start of Tweeter…..

… a little higher.

Press to play….

Sorry about the pun.

You have to grasp the day sometimes, the weather is not kind, and it is raining this morning as I chat over the phone to Mark. I’m hoping to finish off some boulder problems that I’ve been looking at in a local quarry, Crowshaw. Have to admit I need some moral and physical support – Mark is up for it later in the day. When we arrive the rocks are still a little damp, but that only adds to the uncertainty of the outcome. The first problem is too high ball for me, and I rope up and take some gear. Somehow the boulder start feels so much harder with a rope and I come down for a rest and contemplation. I have to stand on a hidden sloper, and it felt so insecure. At my next effort I’m soon committed and arrive sketchily at the break and welcome ‘friends’.

“Reflections of the fears I know I’ve left behind, I step out of the ordinary … I’m on my way, can’t stop me now”.

The top is within reach, but again the footholds are poor, pulling on small creases and then mantelshelfing sees me up. Maybe VS 5a. But I’m pleased to have succeeded on an obvious line here. It now has a name – Tweeter and the Monkey Man.

Mark then shows me how to boldly top out on my reachy problem on the far left wall – giving a quality V3. I don’t really understand these grades, feels hard. High Water Mark.

We both fail on a traverse line I’m particularly keen to finish – next time.

So what have I done today – still buzzing from the the the first route up the tower, great moves and no falls. Plus, Mark polished off another new problem. This is the essence of climbing – pushing yourself into the unknown, no matter how small, and reading the rock for a successful outcome.

Simple pleasures.

Another problem.

I have to climb a steep hill!

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The balding Kemple End of Longridge Fell.

An early morning phone call – “I have to climb a steep hill!“, not exactly an emergency but it needed a response. My friend Mark seems to be having problems with his back and hips [aren’t we all] and was under the orders of his physio.

“OK, see you soon” was my response trying to think of a suitable steep hill. If you have ever cycled up Kemple End you will agree it is steep, and gets steeper. As a coincidence today is the start of the Tour de France and there seemed to be loads of cyclists on the roads. In a hour or so we are parked near Higher Hodder Bridge at the bottom of the said hill. Mark was pleased with his progress up the incline. Near the top we left the road on a public footpath into the fields to visit an ancient cross and recover our breath. A quick look into Kemple End where we have climbed together in the past and then we threaded our way down fields to reach the River Ribble. I am reminded of my Longridge Skyline Walk which comes up this way towards it’s end after 40 hard miles. Also every time I cross this creaky footbridge I think of my, sadly departed, climbing friend Pete, the bridge engineer extraordinary. A short walk by the river brought us back to Higher Hodder bridge.

We talked of mice and men and arranged to meet up soon for a climb providing his physio agrees.

As I post this the sun is breaking through the mist on Longridge Fell promising a lovely morning up at Kemple.

THREE DAYS IN JUNE.

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Yes it’s June but one couldn’t be sure.

1st. The first two days I was entertaining my youngest grandson. It hardly stopped raining and the wind was threatening to blow a six year old off his feet. Despite this we built a dam in a stream coming off Longridge Fell

Dammed good fun.

2nd. and we sailed pooh-sticks from a bridge on the turbulent Dean Brook at Hurst Green the next day All great fun and a great commune with nature.

3rd. At last today the wind has dropped and I’ve enjoyed a pleasant day. gardening has taken preference but by tea time I couldn’t resist a quick walk up Longridge Fell. Having parked at Cardwell House I took what I call the ‘balcony’ route onto the fell – it traverses above the Vale of Chipping with views to Fairsnape, round to The Trough of Bowland and the Three Yorkshire Peaks. Tonight was particularly clear.

The path was wetter than I had expected and trainers were not the best footwear option.Leaving the trig point I cut through the trees to the southern side of the fell where the view over comparatively more industrial Lancashire was a contrast. Wind farms seem to be spreading – lets hope the same doesn’t happen on the Bowland Fells seen to the north.

South.

North.

Postscript –

I heard that noted author, naturalist and environmentalist Robert Macfarlane was appearing on BBC’s Spring Watch Unsprung tonight. I was dismayed to find myself watching ‘Top Gear with Animals’ – the three presenters doing a good impersonation on a contrived set surrounded by an apparently amused audience. Not my idea of a nature presentation but maybe I’m out of date. Mr Macfarlane’s contribution was of little importance amongst the general hullabaloo. Shame.

A beautiful moon seen from my room completed the evening and bodes well for an improving start to June.

AIN’T NO SUNSHINE.

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Stonyhurst College.

Sunday mornings can be depressing when you wake up to rain and dull weather. This tune came into my head and I couldn’t get rid of it all day. Listen whilst reading…

So I was late setting off to do a walk – felt I had to have some exercise once the rain eased. Most of my walks up Longridge Fell are from the NW side where I live but as the wind was from that direction today I decided on an approach from the gentle south side. Parked up near the Bailey Arms in Hurst Green. There is a lovely path that drops down to and then follows Dean Brook past several old Bobbin Mills. As one walks beside the stream there is ample evidence of diversions to form mill races. These have been cut into the soft sandstone and give an evocative view of life here in the past.

A little further up the dean over to the right is a small former quarry, Sand Rock, where a few years ago Simon and I climbed an E2 5c route up the middle of the main cliff. Looking at it today it looks desperate and in need of a clean, but there would be some possibility of bouldering on this face. [Robin please note].

Anyhow today that wasn’t high on my objectives, I was happy just to harvest some wild garlic leaves for supper tonight. The path crosses a bridge where I often played poo sticks with my children and then grandchildren. Climbing out of the valley you come to the 16th-century hunting lodge of the Shireburn family, original occupants of Stoneyhurst, its buttressed structure evidence to its longevity. An adjoining building functions as a camping barn.

The track continued with views up to the fell.

Passing Crowshaw Quarry, [scene of some recent bouldering exploits] over the road and into the trees of Longridge Fell. There has been a lot of felling recently because of the Rhizosphaera needle-cast fungus. The hillside looks like the Somme battlefield. But everywhere new life is springing up with baby trees, will they be fungus free?

Up through the woods to near Green Thorn farm, where there are some magnificent beech trees. This is the one I want to climb – if you have read Robert Macfarlane’s The Wild Places you will know what I mean.

I didn’t go up to the trig point today but headed for ‘Sam’s Best View’, a northern view over the Chipping valley to the Bowland Fells. A shaft of sunlight pierced the sky whilst I was there. Back south down through the trees to emerge onto the road and then a footpath I have never been on. I ended up lost, misplaced in the garden of Fell Side Farm. With no help from any waymarks, I made my way down a delightful small valley which brought me out onto the road heading to Stonyhurst College. The college was founded in 1593, and located at Stonyhurst Hall in 1794. Today it provides expensive boarding and day education to approximately 450 boys and girls. The church of St. Peter’s was open today and I was able to view the interior and the stained-glass windows.

A stroll through fields below the cricket pitch brought me out next to the Alms Houses in Hurst Green, These were originally built on Longridge Fell at Kemple End but ‘moved’ to the village after the war.

So despite the poor weather and lack of sunshine, this little walk provided a few hours’ diversion, I hardly saw anyone on the fell, which is unusual.