Category Archives: Longridge Fell

AFTER THE STORM.

I hadn’t meant to write a post today. But out of curiosity, I drove up the fell to have a mooch around Cowley Brook Plantation and see what Storm Eowyn had metered out.

So far this year, we have had floods, arctic snow and hurricane-force winds, and we are not at the end of January. What next, a plague of frogs or locusts in Biblical proportions? The world and its climate are evolving, and disasters are becoming more commonplace.

The day is colder than I had thought, and my hands stay firmly in my pockets. It’s only when I am further up in the old pine plantation that I notice more trees down from when I last visited, which I do often, probably from Eowyn’s blast. My phone comes out for a photo. And there is more further along. I wrote recently about whether the plantation would survive my lifetime. Things are looking bleaker, and it may not survive your lifetime.

The next storm, the Spanish Herminia, is on its way, and it’s time to get out of the creaking trees.

A SNOWY FORAY.

Who doesn’t like a snowy scene?

The other day, I drove up to the New Drop Inn from the Hall’s Arms. Both these long-established locals are now closed, one becoming a business centre and the other residential units. The road was just clear of snow, but there was little room for passing other cars. The temperature hadn’t risen above freezing for a few days. I was hoping to walk around Cowley Brook Plantation to complete my year’s archive of photographs. My usual pull-ins looked dicey. I was afraid I would become stuck, so I turned tail and drove home, probably the most sensible option.

The freeze continues. Thankfully, no more snow falling around here, and the sun shines brightly. I can’t resist another attempt to walk the fell in these conditions. This time, I take caution to heart and park easily at the New Drop crossroads. The side road coming directly up from Longridge past the golf course looks treacherous, and I wish I had brought my microspikes as I walk a hundred yards or so down it.

My footprints are the only ones coming through the waterboard gate by Cowley Brook. Lovely crunching sounds as I pass into the plantation: a couple of roe deer run across my path into the trees, too fast for a photo.

Knowing my way up the hillside, I arrive at my four-way photo spot.

 

I have time to admire the frozen minutiae.

Continuing through the trees to reach my other fixed point.

Mission accomplished, I will put together a montage of the year later or perhaps record another year of changes in the young plantation.

While I’m up here, why don’t I go farther up the fell?  It is difficult walking in the snow in the plantation, so I decide to use the road to gain the fell proper. There is very little traffic. Pendle Hill has become a giant in its winter garb.

Through the gate onto the fell, and I trudge up alongside the wall. Only a few have passed this way. I avert my eyes from the scene of the ‘Grim up North’ tree massacre. Time is a little tight, so I don’t go to the trig point but arc around at the Christmas Tree to take the balcony route back to the Jeffrey Hill carpark. The views across Bowland are spectacular, as are the distant ones into Yorkshire.

As I reach the car park, I see a motorist in trouble on the icy roads below. A notorious blackspot where cars have, in the past, slid off the hill into the fields below. I’m not sure why anyone would have driven up here in the first place. A crowd gathers out of nowhere to give advice.  Luckily, the driver, unprepared in his own words, manages to dig himself out, avoid the drop and continue down the slippery road.

I march along the road back to my car, a great four miles in the perfect Winter scenery.

***

DON’T FORGET TO FEED THE BIRDS.

An overnight dump of snow has transformed the surroundings. My car, which I shall not be moving today, is under four inches of the white stuff.

The back garden looks neat and tidy for the first time in months. I put out the usual ground feed and the select seeds on the bird table. Within minutes the blackbirds are fighting over the oats, and the coal tits are raiding the seeds.

The morning slips away.

I eventually decide on a walk. I am lucky I can reach the countryside directly from my doorstep without using the car. I have no real plan. I walk past the cricket pitch. The road, where cars have passed, is easier to use than the rutted pavement. Up ‘Mile Lane’ is my usual route. I hear the joyful cries of children long before I see them sledging down the field.

Even in the semi-urban landscape, there are sheep struggling for survival.

Someone has been out early in the park and built an igloo. I used to do that and sleep out for the night in the garden.


Everyone is in a chatty mood, so progress is slow. Hence I decide on a short loop around the reservoir rather than the longer fell road, which I did yesterday. From up here, there are views across the valley to Beacon Fell and the Bowland Fells (in cloud).

I peek into Craig Y and share a picture of it on its Facebook page.

As I wander back through the streets, more snow is in the air. It won’t be good if it freezes tonight. Around the corner, a friend, JD, is building a snowman for his grandchildren. All jolly good fun.

HOW HIGH’S THE HODDER MOMMA?

It’s a brand new year, but the same old weather that plagued last year: rain and plenty of it. I awoke to news of flooding in the northwest and looking out my back window, the fields were underwater. Ribchester has suffered again, so I won’t be heading that way, though it would have been good to see the Ribble in full flow at Sale Wheel. https://bowlandclimber.com/2020/02/17/sales-wheel-the-ribble-in-flood/

I decided instead to head over to the River Hodder at Higher Hodder Bridge. I suspected the Chaigley road might be flooded so I drove over the fell to drop down at Kemple End. Even on this higher road, there were one or two spots where I hesitated to drive through.

The road going down Birdy Brow was awash with flood debris and parts of the road itself were eroding.

I parked at the bottom and walked onto the bridge to view the river in full spate.

Taking the little cobbled path through the woods and over normally quiet streamlets, now dashing to meet the roaring river.

Places where I often go down to the riverside for views of the graceful bridge were underwater today, and I kept a healthy distance from the edge. The river was moving past at some pace.  It’s difficult to give an impression of the water’s power in a photo so I tried a video for better effect.

Ambling on along the muddy footpath, I came upon quieter stretches of water before it sped up again, hurtling towards the Ribble, where the confluence would be quite a sight.  Instead of returning the same way I picked up an unmarked track near one of the little footbridges; this took me up the hillside towards Rydding’s Farm, where walkers aren’t exactly welcomed with “dogs running loose” signs. I bypass them and take the farm track leading back to Birdy Brow. Looking back, a rather hazy Pendle Hill dominates as usual around these parts. I hadn’t walked far for my first walk of 2025. I’m pleased to see my car hadn’t been washed away and drove carefully back over the high road, stopping only to view the floods below in Chipping Vale.

Of course, while the mood takes you, it is worth listening to Johnny Cash.

***



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I GET MISTY.

I write this in front of a roaring log fire after three dull and damp post-Christmas days. Listening to cool jazz on my new CD  Player, I’m old-fashioned, I know. I am also trying to work out the intricacies of my ‘new’ camera, a present from one of my sons who has more cameras than sense.

*

It was a misty Boxing Day walk with the family on Turn Moss, Chorlton. Turn Moss is a recreational area in Stretford, a green gateway to the Mersey Valley: water meadows, woodlands, ponds, brooks and ditches—a great place to explore and walk the dogs.

Chorlton Brook.

 

Turn Moss.

River Mersey.

Yesterday was worse. Misty from the word go. I eventually braved the damp and drove up to the fell. I was surprised at the number of cars parked up on Jeffrey Hill, considering there was no view. The sun just couldn’t break through.

I couldn’t face the mud on those tracks, so I settled for a short circuit of Cowley Brook Plantation lower down the fell. This is my go-to place for some quick exercise, surrounded by nature, for my well-being.  I am the only one in there. I take photos as part of my year’s monthly observations, almost like a time-lapse sequence. I need to get January to complete the cycle.

The spider webs hold water droplets from the air as well as the pine needles..

I love this tree stump on my round.

More pine trees from the plantation are down since the last storms; some uprooted, and some simply snapped. I wonder if the original plantation will slowly dwindle in my lifetime. Today, as the anticyclonic gloom persists, I am happy to walk from home. Up Mile Lane and through the village.

‘Mile Lane’

And from 1969, clinging from a cloud…

BREAKDOWNS AND BOWLAND BLUE.

I’ve had my fair share of motoring breakdowns in the past.  I’d not been running new cars in later years, more like old crocks. My Mazda Is now 25 years old, but it rarely lets me down. Unfortunately, the last time it did was on a ‘smart’ motorway. The experience has left me traumatised and very wary of venturing onto such motorways. I was fortunate to crawl into one of their scarce emergency refuge areas. A ‘place of relative safety’ you can pull into if you have an emergency and need to stop driving on an all-lane running motorway”. That was only the start of my problems. Using their roadside emergency phone was almost impossible due to the constant traffic noise. Trying to give details of my AA membership and location took an inordinate time over the phone. I was eventually rescued. The next day, I installed the AA app on my mobile. (Other breakdown services are available) 

‘Cometh the hour cometh the app’  to misquote Churchill and others. The hour came this week after a meet-up lunch with my Skipton cousin in the Spread Eagle at Sawley. Leaving the car park, in the Daccia this time, I heard a crunching sound from my back offside wheel. Going a little farther, it became louder, and smoke appeared from the wheel as it locked up; it was time to stop.

Time to call the AA. Simple this time: open the app, press a button on my mobile, enter a few details, and a man is on his way. He arrives in twenty minutes and diagnoses the problem – seized disc brakes preventing the wheel from rotating. He can’t tow me, and I imagine waiting a long time for a low loader to take me home. But no, this man is resourceful. He can’t free the brakes, but with a magic piece of engineering, which I didn’t understand, he fitted a freewheel to the outside of the hub. Thus, I could drive the car, although minus one brake, as he followed behind with flashing lights.

We were back at my garage before it closed. They have a backlog of work at this time of year, so I didn’t expect to see my car until after Christmas. To my surprise, I had a phone call this morning to say the job was done, new discs fitted, and I could collect it anytime. Thumbs up to the AA and my local garage.

*

Thus, I am now parked up at Chipping for a short walk to make the most of this dry, sunny day. The gritters are out in the village, just managing to squeeze through the narrow streets. It is cold.

Several of you will recognise this walk, one of my winter standbys, but to disguise it somewhat, I’m walking clockwise today. Usually, I go anticlockwise, widdershins, as they say in Scotland. Everywhere is bedecked for the season.

Up past the old mills, Chipping was once an industrial hub. The chair works closed in 2011, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kirk_Mill The road is surprisingly steep.

Round the corner the lane heads to the fells, enclosed by hedges. Look at that blue sky.

And there is Parlick with its wrinkles highlighted in the low sun. I have climbed some of those gullies in winter’s past when they iced up sufficiently. And there across the valley is Longridge Fell shadowed by its larger neighbour Pendle.

At the end of the lane up to Saddle End farm, I’m pleased to see the hens are still laying, I buy half a dozen.

It’s all downhill from here with time to take in the scenery on the way to the the sheep farm.

This is where you look out over the laund, an ancient deer park. I never tire of this view.

Down through the grounds of Leagram Hall, I stop again to admire some of the ancient oaks. All too soon, I’m back at my car. The day is closing, and the northerly wind is biting deep.

ALL QUIET ON THE FELL.

I stop at the trig point. My anemometer, a licked finger held above my head, records not even a zephyr. I am well away from roads, so all is complete silence, absolute stillness—a rare occurrence in modern times. I absorb the experience and drift into another world, unaware of how time passes. The Bowland Fells look on impassively, and far away, Pen Y Ghent just nods to the occasion. This is somehow special; my regular walk transformed by the absence of sound.

I nearly didn’t make it. Halfway up after stopping for a drink, I became unsteady and started stumbling. Was this the start of a stroke? I thought, and I turned around to get back before anything worse happened. Nobody ever knows where I am. After a few more faltering steps, I realised one of my spectacle lenses had fallen out, and I was temporarily confused and disorientated. Calming down, I stopped, removed my useless glasses, and then retraced my last few metres. No sign of the missing lens, I had to repeat this course several times before I find it in the peat. No damage was done.

So I continued to the trig point. The going was boggy but nowhere near the Lincolnshire mud I experienced last week. However, I did notice a sign has appeared on the fenced-off private land that warns of sinking mud. I’m not sure who it is aimed at now that barbed wire prevents access. Possibly their workers. I see they are at work with diggers farther down the field; we still don’t know what transpires on that land.

Farther on, I found more trees down, probably Storm Darragh. It certainly wouldn’t have been quiet up here in that wind. It’s eery in the forest. Several of you have battled through the forests on Longridge Fell and realise that not a lot of clearance has occurred. I’m never sure which footpaths up here are rights of way or concessional paths, so don’t always complain to the authorities about blocked ways. In any case, would they have the funds to carry out remedial action during these austere times? So, for now, we can all have our own little adventure.

I passed the ‘Longridge Fell Christmas Tree’. I think it’s in a different position from last year. It looked a bit dishevelled, probably after a thrashing from Storm Darragh at the weekend. As I said all quiet.

A VIEW FROM THE ‘RIDGE.

Up here in Lancashire, we missed most of Storm Bert’s venom. There were a couple of days of icy weather and then lots of rain. I escaped from Chorley Hospital yesterday without any serious problems. Time to get out for a walk.

My morning was taken by awkward ‘joinery’ to enlarge the hole for Seth’s new cat flap. There are intruders on the prowl, one particular cat seems to spend most of his time in my garden and has gained entry into my house on a couple of occasions. Not what I want. With all the new houses in Longridge there are more cats about, not to mention dogs. I took the plunge and ordered an electronic cat flap that would only open to Seth’s chip. It’s arrived, and I try to decipher the instructions for programming and installing. It was easy to program, and Seth duly obliged and walked through it. That was yesterday. Today, I started on the installation, and I’m not finished yet.

The day is disappearing and I need to get out and make the most of the forecast. After all the rain, I think I’ll just opt for a road circuit up the fell. One I have done so many times. I bump into JD on the way, and we join forces for a modest stroll.

Here are a few photos taken on my phone as we progressed.

Craig Y in the strange light.

Looking out over the houses to the Ribble Valley and beyond.  

 

A deserted Golf Course was closed because of flooding.

 

Cowley Brook Plantation.   

 

Distant Pendle.

 

Fairsnape/Totridge group across the valley.

 

Looking out over Longridge reservoirs and the Fylde.  

 

Sainsbury’s sunset.  

A short walk of under five miles, the sun was setting by the time we returned. Nothing dramatic but we put the world to rights, which is a good thing.

I’ll finish off the cat flap tomorrow.

Bleasdale with BC

Tuesday 12th November 2024 Kemple End has been a fantasy location for a number of years with its quirky name tickling my imagination. Bowland Climber has mentioned it many times during our years of walking together but it has remained a kind of mystery for me, even to my questioning its actual existence, and somehow we…

Click to view

Bleasdale with BC

I didn’t have time to write this one,  so I’m grateful for Sir Hugh’s version.

I have one photo to add. Sir Hugh on the slippery slope. It is more straightforward to climb back up than descend.

GOOD DAY SUNSHINE.

As a counterpoint to Mike’s recent post, Seven Rooms of Gloom, which was published only a day ago,  https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/147350/posts/5450048239   this will raise your spirits. The gloom has gone.

My spirits are raised this morning as the sun appears for the first time in a fortnight. I have a few jobs to complete before I go away later in the week, but soon after lunch I’m up on the fell. I park up at Crowshaw Quarry, the scene of Probes’ brilliant new boulder problem last week. There is a good view of Pendle from up here, one for another time.

I take the small track, leaving the road just down from the parking. Years ago, this was the start of one of my regular fell runs. In fact, so many years ago, that the mature plantations hereabouts were cut down, and a new one planted, which is itself coming slowly to maturity. Forestry coming full cycle.

I haven’t been up this way for a few months, and I notice the increased erosion caused by mountain bikes with fatter wheels and, in many cases,  electric assistance. I commented about this recently, so will let it drop today – after all the sun is shining.

Onwards through the trees towards the infant Brownslow Brook, where I brought my children and then my grandchildren to learn the art of dam building. As I said, I haven’t been this way for a while, and there ahead of me is another recently harvested area of forest, it does look unsightly. As you climb the hill away from the bridge, the track everybody uses goes through mature beech and pine trees. But now, one of those metal gates has appeared, suggesting the path goes up to the right of the fence towards Green Thorn farm. Looking at the map, the original PRofW does go that way. Let’s see what the ‘path’ is like. For a start, the gate, which must only have been up a few weeks, isn’t shutting correctly because one of the uprights isn’t vertical and is wobbling in the soft ground. The contractors have strimmed a corridor through the reeds, but the ground is boggy and will deteriorate quickly with much footfall. I suspect most regulars will use the well-worn path through the trees.  The PRofW, which was long abandoned, went up to the farmhouse, but now another metal gate brings one out of their land, bypassing the farm, back onto the forest path. What a waste of money.  Red dots on this map show the gates and the alternative paths. Time will tell.

I soon reach one of the main forestry roads but continue straight across and up on a smaller path through a felled area. Strange birds fly overhead. Yesterday, I managed to mangle my camera’s zoom lens, which I suspect is beyond repair, so now relying on my phone. 


I have thoughts of continuing to the trig point but can’t face the struggle through the fallen trees and all the mud. I’m content to stroll back along the forest road; just look at that blue sky.
Confusion creeps in at another recent area of felling. It is surprising how different things look when the trees I’ve walked past for countless years are gone. But Pendle is always there…

…as is my favourite beech.

***

I can’t believe it, but people are coming out of Sainsbury’s with Christmas Trees.

NEW ROUTES GALORE.

I’m catching up on some news while recovering from my second cataract operation. I am full of admiration for the surgeon’s skill. Please excuse any typos; I still haven’t regained full stereoscopic vision.

In the last few years, I have mentioned climbing with my mate Mark on a ‘secret’ crag high in Mallerstang in the upper Eden Valley. I showed the odd photo but never gave away the location.

I played only a small supporting role in developing this lovely crag, but I enjoyed the exploratory nature of the climbing very much. The epic walk up to the crag. The peace and isolation of the fell. The views down into Mallerstang and, in the distance, to many Pennine and Howgill Peaks. The occasional train trundling down the valley, even a low-flying Dakota or microlight passing by. We had a hidden cave where we could store gear and ropes to lessen the load on our walk-up.  Hammering in those belay stakes and then abseiling to clean those soaring cracks. On one occasion, when a large block came careening towards me, I dodged at the last moment—freezing and baking in the same month—the best company with Mark, Jude, and other friends.

The Neb, Wild Boar Fell.

Our stash.

Main Wall area.

Narrow Buttress. E1 5b

Upper Malerstang.

Well, he has now published his exploits on UKC under the title ‘Wild Boar Fell’. There is also a new Fell and Rock mini-guide to the Eden Valley, due to be published, which will include the routes on Wild Boar Fell. In the meantime, here is Mark’s interim guide https://bowlandclimber.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/Wild-Boar-Fell-Both-sections-8.pdf

Just look at the opening photo. You would enjoy a day’s climbing up there.

*

On a different scale, up on Longridge Fell above Craig Y is a secluded quarry, Crowshaw, which is much more accessible.

We have been climbing in there for a few years now. Robin Mueller started the ball rolling with exciting boulder problems on the curiously shaped right wall.

There is a video of his exploits. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2M1Oc3G-JQ&    https://youtu.be/f2M1Oc3G-JQ

I returned and cleaned up the slab right of his passages, then the lower walls to the left, which offered some easier boulder problems.

I had my eye on a 15-foot rock tower, but there was a nasty, pointed boulder below it. This was duly displaced with crowbars. Yes, I know we are mad. I played around bouldering out the start, but committing to more complex moves was getting me too far off the ground. I enlisted the help of Mark, of Wild Boar fame above, and he came over to belay me in September 2015. I was glad of the rope and protection on what turned out to be a decent climb – Tweeter And the Monkey Man, about VS 5a. We noticed the imposing blank wall to its right.  My musical post describes the evening.

Tweeter, with that steep wall to its right.

My attention drifted back to the left walls again. That night, both Mark and I had attempted a high-level right-to-left traverse along the lip without success. Where the footholds ran out, it became technical and strenuous. I seem to remember I was going to France the next day, so I didn’t want to end up with a broken ankle.

I couldn’t let it rest, so I was back in August 2016 with Dor as my spotter and protagonist. I needed that to progress and eventually complete the End of the Line. V2.    https://bowlandclimber.com/2016/08/27/its-the-end-of-the-line/

That steep wall still attracted me, but after putting a rope down it, I realised it was way too hard. I did give the ‘Friend’ slots a clean, thinking somebody may lead it. That’s how it stayed for years; not many knew of the quarry or visited it. Local climber Paul of  https://crusherholds.co.uk/ has done everything at CraigY, so I thought I would show him my wall. He was impressed, but we never got around to trying it until this year, when, with a new bouldering guide coming out, he bit the bullet.

Days of rain came and went; there was a short window in the weather for one afternoon. We met up, and I rigged a top rope for him to look at the problem. Tenous moves off layback creases and minuscule footholds had him off the ground. The following moves past slopers were obviously the crux; he struggled with the sequence. Eventually, opting for a slap through past the worst hold. It all looked very insecure, and his success rate was only average. Once at the slot, he said it was OK to the top. I suggested a roped lead with some gear at half height, but as he explained, that was past the difficulties, and he was confident of the upper section.

We moved the ropes, and I got set to spot him on the first difficult section.  That is when we realise that if he fell, we would both probably disappear down the steep, bramble slope below us. So I tied into the ropes and hung above the drop. The pads covered the base adequately. On came the tight edging shoes to cope with the ripples masquerading as footholds. The finger laybacks somehow kept him on until poised below the crux slaps. This time, his right hand didn’t connect well, and I could see his tendons straining to keep contact before the next slap. Only just made it. But then it was a triumphant romp to the top.    Probing the Proud Line 7a+

It rained for the rest of the month.

There remains a sneaky little line to the left, if anybody fancies it before Probes has another look. 

CHANGING CLOCKS. CHANGING PATHS. CHANGING TIMES.

I didn’t know where I was heading for as I drove up onto the fell. Somehow the extra hour has thrown me today and it is lunchtime before I stir. I wondered about some bouldering at CraigY but a cold wind dissuaded me. I drove farther up, it looked like half of Preston had parked along the road to access the forest tracks. Too many people and dogs, so I continue to quieter Kemple End and squeeze into a parking spot. One of my favourite walks over the years was a small permissive path avoiding the forest roads, starting through a gateway, SD 689405, just down the hill and then snaking up through the trees eventually arriving at Sam’s Best View, if you remember it.

Things have changed. A few years ago a large area of forest on the Northern scarp was harvested and then we had the storms causing more damage to the remaining plantation. I tried to find a suitable way up this end of the fell in the heatwave of June 2023. here.

It will be interesting to have another look. That is how my walk for today evolved.

Through the gateway on a path of fallen leaves, I start the climb. The path here is quite broad and obviously used by mountain bikes. As it narrows they, the mountain bikers, have been trimming back the branches, filling potholes and creating jumps over obstacles.

Out of interest, a PRoW, marked on the map, crossing my track at SD678410 has to all extent disappeared. Blocked on the left by fallen trees and lost on the right from lack of use. Higher up some steep downhill tracks lead off right, specifically created by the mountain bikers. They look suicidal.

I become diverted by a prominent group of fungi often seen in coniferous forests.  ?Hebeloma mesophaeum – Veiled Poisonpie.Moving on I recognise the dogleg in the path and follow it into the denser forest. Again branches have recently been cut back. This little used, at the time, path went right along the ridge but now after less than a quarter of a mile comes out into the area felled a few years ago.

An area of devastation which last June I couldn’t penetrate but now a path winds its way through the stumps and newly planted trees. The mountain bikers are to be thanked for this, they have carved out a track which can now be followed by walkers without having to trudge up the forest road.

There are good views back to Pendle Hill, down into the Hodder Valley and way over the Bowland Fells to Pen Y Ghent and Ingleborough.

I walk on and eventually come out at what was Sam’s Best View before the trees obscured it. I’m pleased that the path connects up again with the main ridge path and given time and use as the forest regrows will become a pleasant route sought out by the discerning walker. I suspect that the bikers will be more instrumental than walkers in keeping it open.

And there lies a problem. When I started ‘mountain biking’ 40 years ago we kept mainly to bridleways and there weren’t many of us. Most of the uphills we walked, or at least I did. Our tyres weren’t much fatter than road tyres but even then we were aware of the erosion caused by bikes on fragile ground. Fast forward four decades and there are mountain bikers everywhere, not necessarily strictly legally. The bikes have changed with full suspension, dropping seat posts and wider tyres. More importantly in recent years, electric mountain bikes have appeared. They are heavier and if used aggressively tear up the ground in an accelerating time. No more walking uphill. We are usually only aware of environmental damage when it is almost too late.

It’s great to see youngsters enjoying the trails on Longridge Fell and elsewhere but if used irresponsibly on footpaths may bring them into conflict with other users. Places like Gisburn Forest and  Llandegla have been specifically ‘designed’ for mountain biking with trails for all abilities separated from other users. There is so much scope on Longridge Fell for mountain biking, as witnessed by the self-made innovative trails appearing everywhere. I wonder whether some input should be with the landowners, Tilhill Forestry, into developing a mountain biking environment. I’m well aware that could stifle and regulate the whole process. Pros and cons.

Let’s leave that debate to another time, there are far worse things happening in the world.

I wander back down the forest road, the clocks have changed and it will be dark a lot sooner today. 

That only leaves me with the obligatory Autumn Leaf image. Pardon the pun.

FUNGAL ABUNDANCE?

Am I pleased I didn’t set forth on the Sarsen Way down in Wiltshire last week? They have had more than their fair share of rain. Pottered around at home, took delivery of a new cycle (more of that later), done a bit of easy bouldering in the quarries, and had a few walks up the fell on the better days.

My eldest grandson came to stay for a couple of days and we ventured onto the now, once again, boggy fell. It will only get worse as the year progresses.

What struck me was the amount of fungi already springing up amongst the trees. Using the phone’s aps we tried our best to identify most of them. We have been short of insects this year so let’s hope for an abundant fungal autumn.

 

I have made it my intention this autumn to become more proficient at fungal identification, did I say that last year? There are plenty of trees down in the woods for them to grow on. Must remember to take my camera next time. 

WHAT’S HAPPENING ON LONGRIDGE FELL?

The rockman comes to Longridge for a short walk, where else would I take him, apart from up Longridge Fell?  I have an ulterior motive. Some new groundwork has been carried out on the fell, and I want to investigate.

It promises to be a hot, sunny day once more.

A new dog-poo bag bin has been installed by the gate, courtesy of Thornley and Wheatley Council. I hope someone empties it regularly, as it is not that large. The first two pieces of littering on the track are guess what?

Steadily up to the trig point, which is already occupied, we get employed as official photographers of the couple on their first visit. The views are stunning with Ingleborough and Pen-y-Ghent clearer than usual.

We warn the couple of some difficulty getting along the ridge in the forest due to all the windblown trees. Some have been cut back but more seem to have come down in the most recent winds.

Just the other day, my son sent me a picture he took in 2002 when I camped up here with my oldest grandson, who was about five or six at the time. He remembers it well, particularly the baked beans and the deer that wandered past as it became dark. Today, as we snake the easiest way through the carnage, I recognise the very spot where we had camped. A WhatsApp photo is sent to the family.

I head for what used to be ‘Sam’s Best View’ if you remember it. But new growth is obstructing what was a Bowland panorama. Time for a drink and snack anyhow, the day is heating up. The rockman is checking for additives.

We loop the loop and start heading for home. More tree debris is circumnavigated and eventually we come out onto the south side of the forest where the fell drops away to the old Clitheroe road. And there it is, right in front of us, where before was all open land, a five-foot wire fence topped off for good measure with two strands of barbed wire. I have previously reported drainage ditches being dug on the moorland, ponds being enlarged, and lots of heavy machinery damaging the fragile surface and trees. A drainage ditch has been dug on land in different ownership, on the north side of the wall, whether with permission or not.  The owner, for whatever reason, doesn’t want us on his land. I won’t go into the legal wrangles that are transpiring or local speculation about what he is up to. Does he not realise deer roam this open moor and their leap will probably result in serious injury from the unnecessary barbed wire?


On the way off the fell we pass the spot where my ‘Grim up North’ pine tree stood until it was mown down by the ditch digging, It had been lying on its side and I had hopes of some regeneration when I passed it in  March. Those hopes were dashed today as it has been well and truly logged up. Criminal.

So more questions asked rather than answered. I have a feeling that this will become an ongoing saga on which I will report back from time to time.

BACK HOME ON THE FELL.

P1080784

After my travels of last week to Shropshire,  https://bowlandclimber.com/2024/08/10/the-telford-t50/  I’ve kept local this week with a few trips up onto Longridge Fell. Bank Holiday Monday I certainly won’t be travelling far. The family are here and we usually take the dogs up there for some exercise.

If you remember I started photographing the vegetation in Cowley Brook Plantation on a regular basis to watch the variation with the seasons as the year progressed. This is an opportunity for an interim review, just over halfway through the year.

There is little brightness in the sky today, no two days alike this year, but after some hearty soup we drive up the fell to our usual parking place. The dogs can’t wait to get out and sniff their way into the trees. The obvious change over the year so far has been the surge in vegetation. The newly planted trees; mainly oak, birch and mountain ash have had a growth spurt. The self seeded larch and spruce are competing with the deciduous for dominance and I think they may win out. Perhaps some better forest management would thin out the pines to allow the young deciduous to thrive.

On the ground, heather is blooming and perfuming the air. Blackberries are rampant this year whilst bilberries are coming to the end of their season. The Rowan berries are reaching their brightest red. Higher the bracken has reached head height and the path can hardly be made out, although the dogs seem to know the way.

Its good to see some fungi newly emerged, I must try and improve my identification skills this autumn.

We have had a storm this week, I’ve forgotten its name, and there are trees blown down or snapped off. All part of evolution of the woods.

Here are some pictures of the day, all self explanatory.

P1080781

20240826_154217

P1080782P1080783

P1080765

Water always attracts the dogs and the humans.20240826_16220320240826_162214

Anyhow a good update, a good romp for the dogs and some country air for my city bound family. 20240826_162953

And then there are the idiots of this world…

FAR END OF THE FELL.

P1070440No new ways today but I enjoy revisiting others and seeing what has changed since last time, bear with me. I’m up and ready early (for me) as I have an appointment at the hospital late afternoon. ( Junior doctors working on a Sunday to get the NHS back up to speed. Hope they agree to the new governments pay offer). Driving along the Chaigley road a fleet of vintage tractors is coming towards me, I pull in to get a photo. It is then I realise I have left my camera and phone at home. Some days I’m not fit to be let out.

So its back to the start, the tractors are gone and by the time I park up at Kemple End the morning is all but over. I wander past the few houses making up this community. Most are old cottages but the last house I encounter is a large new build, no doubt replacing an old barn. P1070442P1070445P1070448

Once in the fields I pick up the old sledge way for taking stone from the Kemple End quarries down towards Stonyhurst for construction of the Shireburn family home. Cows are thankfully docile in the heat. The building at the bottom was the stable for the sledge horses. It has been derelict for years but now after major refurbishments is a holiday cottage. P1070451P1070453P1070454P1070455

Up the road is one of my favourite Stonyhurst Crosses. The Pinfold Cross is a memorial to a former servant at the College and fiddler, James Wells. It was erected in 1834 after he died in a quarry accident. On the front is inscribed the telling ‘WATCH FOR YOU KNOW NOT THE DAY NOR HOUR.’ Above this is written, ‘OFT EVENINGS GLAD MAKE MORNINGS SAD’ perhaps suggesting drunken escapades. On the left is ‘PRAY FOR THE SOUL OF JAMES WELLS’ and on the right, ‘DIED FEB. 12TH, 1834. P1070458P1070459

The next fields have some of the meanest looking sheep around. Plenty of cows but the bull is far enough away to let me pass. P1070463 P1070464

The building you can see in the distance is marked on the map as Higher Deer House, a reference when this was the deer park of the Shireburn family who built what is now Stonyhurst College. The buildings are empty and being replaced by those ginormous agricultural sheds that are springing up everywhere. Soon will all livestock will be under cover and our fields redundant? P1070466P1070468

I often have trouble finding the hidden stile across the field, today is no exception.

The stile leads into a jungle at the bottom of which is a footbridge over Dean Brook, then back up through more jungle to emerge onto the bridleway next to Greengore, an old shooting lodge. The raspberries are sweet.

P1070477Renovations are going on at the old house so I take a picture of the new build in the back garden. P1070482

Now starts my long gradual ascent to Spire Hill some 600 ft above. It is a hot day and I take it slowly. More of those new metal gates keep appearing. The cyclist is a friend of mine trying out his new electric mountain bike. His wife appears as I enter the shady woods, no mountain bike for her – just taking the dog for a walk. P1070484P1070485P1070488P1070491P1070498P1070500It was good to get a bit of shade for a short time before walking up to the trig point, 350m.  The views were a bit hazy but all the Yorkshire three peaks could be made out but perhaps not on camera. Looking down into Chipping Vale is always a revelation, spotting individual farms and lanes from on high. P1070503

I continue along the ridge into the trees still devastated by a storm a few years ago. This is a concessionary path used my many and should have been cleared by now. A black mark Tilhill Forestry, a letter is being sent off to them. They should consider the recreation value of their holdings as well as the commercial value. Its a jungle up here, it would only take a couple of blokes with a chain saw to clear a way through. P1070510P1070507

Mountain bikers have marked a blue trial through the worst, Thank you.P1070509

At least the forestry people have cleared their own forest road eastwards, it was a nightmare before. But what a desolate mess they leave behind but given a  decade or so all will look good.P1070512P1070511P1070513

Along this stretch I come across a cyclist enjoying the view. Pendle is always prominent from this end of the fell. I compliment him on his Brook’s saddle, a cycling thing, and we get into conversation. Turns out he lives just round the corner from me and we have several mutual acquaintances. P1070515

I escape from the forest road and take an almost hidden path through the trees back to my car at Kemple End. The shade was welcome in the heat of the day. P1070518 P1070519P1070520

With all the stopping and chatting I was a little behind schedule and had to rush off for my hospital appointment. At least I had made the most of the day, as I should every day, but sadly often don’t.

***

Screenshot 2024-07-28 220048

A FAMILY FUN DAY.

P1070391

My son and my youngest grandson have come up from Manchester for a spot of Bouldering at Craig Y Longridge, here in the village.

I am lucky living in Longridge on the edge of Bowland and The Ribble Valley. Many of my posts have been about this local area which I am passionate about. From a climbing point of view I have on my doorstep one of England’s premier bouldering venues. This unique gritstone crag overhangs for almost all of its 150m length creating an outdoor bouldering wall with many desperate, certainly for me, problems. Over the years I have used it as a training crag to keep me fit for the traditional climbs in the mountains and dales of Britain. I never became really good but I was always strong.

Climbing has changed as a sport over the years, big boot days in the Lakeland mountains have been replaced by gymnastic bouldering in indoor gyms, you may have seen this modern take in the last Olympics. Youngsters are taking to it for the pure physical challenges without the danger. All you need is a pair of rock shoes and a chalk bag to have lots of fun and build up an all round physical fitness at the same time. Friendly rivalry and a good social scene go hand in hand. No wonder climbing gyms have been springing up like mushrooms in all our towns and cities. 

All three of my grandchildren have taken to bouldering and regularly attend climbing gyms in Manchester. Even my son, just turned 50, has gone back to the sport which I introduced him to as a child. I always preferred climbing outdoors and only resorted to the climbing walls when the weather defeated us or in the coldest winter months. We tended to visit the walls with higher roped climbing as that is what we did. For years this helped me keep up my fitness but various issues in the last few years have curtailed my activities. I still manage a few ‘proper’ routes each year but they are diminishing along with my climbing partners as aging creeps upon us. But I do have Craig Y on my doorstep as I said, so whenever possible I go up there and do some easy traversing to keep my muscle memory intact. It is far better, and cheaper, than going to a gym and I still get the social interaction from the youngsters and old hands who regularly turn up.

 The weather is promising, there have been far too many bad days this year, so Sunday is arranged. His dad will bring him and he has invited one of his bouldering buddies to join us. Time to introduce Alex to the delights on hand and see how he performs away from the plastic. In the gym the holds are colour coded so you can see what you are going for, outside you have to ‘read’ the rock to pick your way. 

The afternoon starts badly with the discovery of a burnt out pile of papers on the car park, The rain overnight has created a soggy mess, I may have to come back another time to clear it. What is in the minds of some people? I’m beginning to sound like Victor Meldew. P1070377

In we go through the gate, tortoise like with the bouldering mats on our backs. Convenience climbing 20m from the car. P1070378P1070380

You may notice and wonder about the proximity of houses. This was once all the abandoned Greenbank Quarry, one of many in Longridge. Most closed down after World War II but I am led to believe stone was used from this one for the completion of the first motorway in the UK, AKA Preston Bypass, in the fifties. The quarry, partially infilled, laid dormant and became grassed over. We climbed in here from the early 80’s. I remember cows grazing in the field, with the pond lower down a favourite fishing spot for local children, almost a rural idyll.  All changed when it was bought by a developer who wanted to turn it into a holiday chalet park. Planning permission was granted from the tourism affect it would have on the village. That was always a  debatable point. 20 chalets became 30. and yes you guessed it about fifty houses were built. There was no attempt at the ‘tourism’ market – but we knew there wouldn’t be. Once again the planners duped or was it more sinister than that? 

Anyhow the developer kicked us out of the field when building commenced, well some of us. A fund was started by local climbers contributing money towards purchasing the strip of land directly adjacent the crag, the BMC (British Mountaineering Club) matched the donations and the crag was bought from the developer. He should have really have given it us as he was absolved of all responsibility of a potential danger directly  below a public road. 

In August 2008 the ground below the crag was levelled, a great improvement. Fencing put in place and our own gate complete with official BMC signage installed. The ‘housing’ development has matured, there have been no serious conflicts between the residents and climbers – although this is always an issue when in close proximity to the general public but, and dare I say it, some of the younger generation don’t respect privacy and property. (Victor Meldew again) Lets hope we retain this facility for future generations.  

The early days of BMC ownership.fencing 003 fencing 005

I’ve gone off subject a little, but good to fill you in with the background to this unique place. 

There are already a few other climbers here but it never gets seriously busy. People come and go, enjoying their own activity without impinging on others. I direct our little team to some easy traversing to warm up. It becomes evident that the youngsters lack stamina for too much length of horizontal moves, being used to a limited number of vertical moves before jumping off at the gym. They do however soon dispatch the ‘up’ problems I show them next.P1070382

Below is Bomb Squad 6B being dispatched.

They both are then eager to try some of the harder problems along the crag, that’s when my son and I take off our rock shoes and continue in only in an advisory and encouraging capacity.

Alex and his friend had enjoyed the day. They found the grades tougher than in their gym which is understandable in the transition to real rock. Their confidence for going higher improved as the day went on. Enthusiasm fired I hope. 

Meanwhile my son and I had a good catchup 

Sit start to Porridge Gun 6B+ almost to the top. 

 

 

FATHER’S DAY.

P1060958

A gentle aside.

I don’t ever remember celebrating my Father on any special day way back when I was a child, though I did make lots of fuss of him as he crept into old age before it was too late. He died in 2005 and I paid homage to him more recently here, where you will hear some good music.

The idea of a special day to honor fathers was probably introduced from the United States where it has been celebrated for a century or so.

Mothering Sunday on the other hand was an existing Christian celebration dating from  medieval traditions. Commercialisation has taken over and both days are now largely a shopping excuse.

Putting that aside I am pleased when my two sons plan to visit me, along with some of their progeny and partners. They do offer to bring food but I am happy to prepare a feast and get in the drinks to celebrate the day. They normally eat me out of house and home but today grandson J is mountain biking in the Peak and A is bouldering out in Fontainebleau. So we are down to six and two dogs, Gizmo always wants to be centre of attraction, as can be seen from my header photo. 

My cat Seth senses the arrival of their two dogs and disappears upstairs for the day. After tea and cakes we take the opportunity to get up the fell whilst the sun is shining and develop an appetite for the curries to follow. The dogs love the freedom of the planation and charge off through the bracken after some unknown scents. We walk sedately around. Gizmo the larger dog can’t wait to get into the water of the little becks which have been swelled by all the recent rain, the more refined Phoebe is not so sure. The gap over one side stream seems to have widened and the party use different techniques crossing it with only the odd wet foot or paw.P1060953

P1060952P1060954P1060955

On the way home we call in at Craig Y bouldering venue so S can show L the hidden pleasures. What a good photo opportunity of us all on the rock. 

IMG-20240616-WA0000

Three generation ‘bowlandclimbers’

The meal is a success and they all depart in time for me to watch the first England game of the European Cup whilst I wash up.P1060957

Thanks lads. 

RETURN TO THE FELL.

P1060293

                                                       Bowland fells and Chipping Vale.

I haven’t been up here for two months. I was rather depressed after my last visit when I discovered one of my favourite trees had been uprooted by recent drainage operations. The lovely leaning Scots Pine which I had Christened ‘Grim up North’. I have a selection of trees that I admire in the area but this one I probably had visited most.

Today after some drier weather I set foot once more on Longridge Fell from the Jeffrey Hill car park. Please note the obvious signage on the gates. P1060290P1060313

Between March and July on open fells the ground nesting birds are in residence, Lapwings, Curlews, Skylarks and Pipits that I know of. There is an obligation on dogwalkers to keep their dogs on the lead to avoid disturbance to the nesting birds. Hence the obvious signage. The first two people I meet coming off the fell have their dogs running loose. I pass the time of day with them and politely mention about dogs being on a lead. Both reply that they hadn’t seen any signs to indicate this, that advertising line ‘you should have gone to Specsavers’ crosses my mind. Perhaps next time they will think again.

All the boggy areas from Spring have at last dried out and it is a joy to walk on the springy turf to the summit trig point. P1060291

White patches of Cotton Grass stand out. In the past it has indeed been used to stuff pillow cases and as a wound dressing.

P1060295

I pause at the summit to chat with a cyclist who has come up from Clitheroe via Kemple End. A steep ascent mad easier by the electric motor on his bike. I head into the plantations for an alternative way back. A small area that was replanted a few years ago has greened up nicely. The tree blocking the way is still down and a devious route around and under it has been established. This is in fact a Public Right of Way but Tilhill Forestry whom, I think, manage the land are slow to clear fallen trees. On I go down that tree tunnel.P1060297

P1060303

Now I am walking down alongside the wall towards my fallen tree. I’m pleased to see it still looks alive despite loosing more than half its roots. A sad sight but let’s hope it survives and in the coming decades puts on growth towards the sky. P1060304P1060305P1060310

Coming off the fell I meet up with a friend just finished exercising his well behaved dogs, I can’t resist a photo. P1060311

COWLEY BROOK UPDATE.

P1060080

I mentioned earlier that I was going to follow the seasons up here on the fell by a regular photographic ‘diary’ of the changing vegetation. Wouldn’t it be great to set up a time lapse camera. 

I was up there today and just wanted to share the fragrant blossoms on the Mountain Ash, (Sorbus aucuparia)

P1060082

 Hasn’t the plantation greened up nicely?