Category Archives: Ribble Valley

THE STEEP SIDE OF LONGRIDGE FELL.

Longridge Fell is an example of a cuesta; the ridge has a sharp drop or escarpment on its northern side and a gentler slope on its southern side.

Today, I was tackling that steep northern side.

A tardy start to the day meant I was too late for journying to East Lancs to continue my Manchester ‘pilgrimage’. But the forecast was too good to miss, so a quick change of plan sees me catching the number 5 bus to Chipping; there is a stop on my corner. There are only two of us heading to Chipping.

The bus turnaround is next to St Bartholomew’s Church; I wander into the graveyard to pay my respects to Lizzy Dean, whose tragic story I have mentioned several times in these pages. Her gravestone is under the ancient yew tree. The church was established before 1230 and rebuilt in 1506, so one can only guess the tree’s age.

Lizzie was a maid living in the Sun in the year 1835. She met up with a local lad who claimed the deepest love for her and proposed to her, and she gladly accepted. However, two days before the wedding, James told Lizzie he had fallen in love with her friend Elsie and called off their wedding day. He now planned to marry Elsie in the church opposite.

On the wedding day, Lizzie went up to the pub attic overlooking the churchyard. She wrote a suicide note, placed a rope around her neck, and died. The note in her fist read, “I want to be buried at the entrance to the church so my lover and my best friend will always have to walk past my grave every time they go to church.”

The story doesn’t end there. For almost 200 years, the ghost of Lizzie has haunted the Sun Inn and the churchyard opposite. Just ask anyone in the village.

A cyclist who had passed me back in Longridge whilst I was waiting for the bus is attending a grave. We exchange pleasantries. It turns out to be his parents’ grave. All his family came from Chipping, and many worked in the nearby Berry chair factory. He points out the adjacent grave where two of his uncles are buried following a car crash in Longridge in 1973. Three chairworkers died in that accident. http://kirkmill.org.uk/workmates-killed-in-tragic-accident-december-1973/

He is cycling back to Garstang while I am heading for the fell, which I can see plainly across the vale to the south—first, a stroll down historic Windy Street.

Once out of the village, I pick up a field track by the bridge over Chipping Brook. I have never found the paths easy to follow in this area, but today, things have improved by the way marking for the relatively new Ribble Valley Jubilee Trail. https://www.ribblevalley.gov.uk/mayor-1/mayors-walk

Strangely, all the gates and stiles have been dismantled, leaving free passage for animals between the fields leading to Pale Farm, and they have certainly curned up the wet ground. Lapwings are heard but not seen, but March Hares bound out in front of me. Some convoluted ‘diversions’, well signed, lead me past the next habitations.

Alongside these fields, a new wastewater treatment works is being constructed, a significant undertaking in the valley.

I then strike out across ready fields, aiming for a footbridge over the infant Loud with the steep slopes of Longridge Fell looming up above. Cardwell House, my destination, can be clearly seen at the top.
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TOLKIEN AND CROMWELL IN THE MISTS OF TIME.

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It is difficult to plot a flat five-mile walk in this part of the Ribble Valley. At least if you want to make it interesting. Sir Hugh is a connoisseur of trails, so I have to make this one at least appear interesting and at the same time without too much uphill.

He has kindly offered to come down from Cumbria in order to drive me to a walk I can’t easily reach otherwise. He left the choice to me.

The morning is misty, so we linger and catch up over coffee before leaving. A low-level walk is probably best in these conditions. Half a Tolkien is what I’ve named it. I could probably just about walk it blindfolded.

The Tolkien Trail is a walk around the area inspired by J R R Tolkien’s writings during his stay at the college in the late 1940s. A number of names which occur in ‘The Hobbit’ and ‘The Lord of the Rings’ are similar to those found locally. The tourism people have made as much cudos from it as possible.

Leaving Hurst Green, the much-improved footpath drops steeply down to the Ribble. As we happily descend, I have nagging doubts at the back of my mind that we will have to climb back up at some stage. I need not have worried; Sir Hugh is a true soldier.

Peace is all around. There is no wind, and the Ribble flows sedately by, one of the great rivers of the North. The still, misty conditions add atmosphere to the banks. The stately aqueduct, 1880 era, carries a water pipe to Blackburn, but I can’t remember where it originated. ? Langden Intake at Dunsop Bridge.

We are now on an ‘astro turf’ path. At some stage, a plastic sports pitch has been taken up and relaid as a strip along the river bank, creating the perfect walking surface which blends in with the surroundings. It could be used to advantage on other popular/eroded paths. I think Sir Hugh has stepped offside at this point.

The trail further on has been surfaced with slate chippings, equally resistent but not as visually pleaasing. I wonder which will survive the longest?

Jumbles, where the river has a little dance, comes and goes.

Upstream, fishermen are trying their luck.

I point out Hacking Hall across the way, just visible in my header photo (garderobe was the word I was trying to bring to mind). The Calder joins in here at the site of the old Hacking Ferry, which would have been in operation in Tolkien’s time.

ROADS TO NOWHERE PART 2. HACKING FERRY.

I have a secret up my sleeve. We are always looking for a comfortable seat to have lunch, but there is never one when needed. Today, I hone in on a fisherman’s bench just above where the Hodder, itself a sizeable river, joins the Ribble. Perfect, with extra brownie points.

Close by is the Winkley Oak, that magnificent ancient tree. I am always reassured to see it still standing after the winter storms.

The diverted path is no problem. However, I’m still not sure whether it is official.

As we slowly climb the lane, I mention that the tall trees nearby are a heronry at this time of year. They have nested here for generations. Peering up into the roof canopy, we fail to spot any nests. But then a couple of herons on the ground take to flight and land in the highest branches. They tend to lay early, so they are probably building nests at the moment. Their rasping cries break the general silence.

I find a group of Oyster fungi on a fallen tree, enough for a snack on toast later. (I’m still alive)

The path across the fields has been improved, and we are soon at that bus stop on the road junction. It is too misty for the classic view of Pendle Hill or Cromwell’s Bridge down below. More of him later.

I try to ignore the steep bit of road climbing up to Stonyhurst College grounds. Sir Hugh hardly stops for breath.

We take a back route through the college grounds, past all those terrets and observatories, until there in front of us is the magnificent St. Peter’s Church.

The front of the college is inspiring. The road leading to it is dramatic. The public right of way now goes elsewhere, but I remember walking straight up to the college years before security stepped in. In ignorance and encouraged by Sir Hugh, we walk out on that entrance drive between the ornamental ponds. I wonder whether the security cameras picked us up.

Once safely out of the gates, we have time to turn around and admire the college’s frontage.

The long road leads to the tacky, all-seeing Column of the Immaculate Conception on a mound. More interesting is a large wayside stone. After staying the night in Stonyhurst, Cromwell allegedly stood on this stone and described the mansion ahead of him as “the finest half-house in England”; the symmetry of the building was, at that time, incomplete. He fought the Preston battle the following day, 17th August 1648, against the Royalist army.

From here, it is a simple stroll back into Hurst Green just as the sun is breaking through.

An excellent five-mile walk full of interest and, as usual, with Sir Hugh full of bonhomie. His version will be available soon at https://conradwalks.blogspot.com/

NEWS FROM LONGRIDGE.

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Most of my recent walks have been, out of necessity, around the village. A lot is going on, and there are plenty of people to chat with, both old and new acquaintances. Longridge has virtually doubled in size in the last decade; I would be interested to see the statistics. The traffic has more than doubled, and queues of cars are a regular sight at busy junctions. I wonder where all the lorries come from and are going to. Last week, some roads were at a standstill because of road works and temporary traffic lights.

I am slowly exploring the new estates but keep getting lost and coming out where I went in. I must check online maps to see how quickly these streets make an appearance.

Away from the hustle and bustle, up in John Smith’s Park, there is a new addition I am keen to see. So, after one of our fell road walks, JD and I divert slightly into the park.

Longridge is about to join a small number of pioneering towns and villages across Britain with a micro-wood, or Miyawaki micro forest. Miyawaki forests are named after their creator, Japanese botanist Akira Miyawaki. He developed a method in the 1970s to restore native forests.

These micro-forests use only native species naturally occurring in the local ecosystem. The method typically involves planting closely a diverse mix of native species into prepared and enhanced fertile ground. This woodland will mature in 30 years, compared to the 200 years it usually takes.

Last weekend, volunteers planted over a thousand trees into the enclosure.

It is difficult to make out all those little saplings, but over half a dozen native species are represented. There has been some rock landscaping created around the site, and it is good to see a new addition to the ‘Slate poems’ propped up amongst them.

Here is the full version of the C19th American Lucy Larcom’s poem.

He who plants a tree
Plants a hope.
Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope;
Leaves unfold into horizons free.
So man’s life must climb
From the clods of time
Unto heavens sublime.
Canst thou prophesy, thou little tree,
What the glory of thy boughs shall be?

He who plants a tree
Plants a joy;
Plants a comfort that will never cloy;
Every day a fresh reality,
Beautiful and strong,
To whose shelter throng
Creatures blithe wih song.
If thou couldst but know, thou happy tree,
Of the bliss that shall inhabit thee!

He who plants a tree,–
He plants peace.
Under its green curtains jargons cease.
Leaf and zephyr murmur soothingly;
Shadows soft with sleep
Down tired eyelids creep,
Balm of slumber deep.
Never has thou dreamed, thou blessèd tree,
Of the benediction thou shalt be.

He who plants a tree,–
He plants youth;
Vigor won for centuries in sooth;
Life of time, that hints eternity!
Boughs their strength uprear:
New shoots, every year,
On old growths appear;
Thou shalt teach the ages, sturdy tree,
Youth of soul is immortality.

***

Over in another park, ‘The Rec’ a further project is underway. Our brand new Pump Track.

“A pump track is a circuit of rollers, banked turns and other features designed to be ridden by riders ‘pumping’ their bodies up and down to create momentum.

They are an increasingly popular way to exercise while developing balance and handling skills in a safe environment, away from traffic and other dangers”.

The track aims to provide a fun and exciting place for users of all ages and be a community asset for generations to come. It will be suitable for bicycles, scooters, rollerblades, skateboards and wheelchairs. Grass, wildflowers and native trees will be planted in and around the circuit to help it blend in with its setting,

Today, they are busy tarmacking.

Now, the Rec has a pump track, a skateboard track, a children’s playground and a fitness apparatus circuit. Very respectable for a small town, I no longer feel it is a village. I look forward to its onward progress.

If the weather settles, I will be back out on my Lancashire ‘pilgrimage’ before long.

THREE IN A ROW.

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The weather holds, my hand is no better, but again, for the third day, I am lucky. My son and partner come up to see me. They bring their two boisterous dogs; there is no Seth to keep them under control this time. The answer is to take them for a walk when they arrive. So once again, I have a lift up to the fell and people to keep an eye on me if any problems arise. I hate to be fussed over, as I feel perfectly well. It’s just my hand that hangs uselessly from its wrist.Cowley Brook Plantation on the fell is our usual destination with the dogs.They seem to recognise it now after many visits, and once through the gate, they are off lead, chasing whatever scents they pick up. There are deer up here, possibly foxes and traces of other dogs to explore.Disappointing to see so many dog poo bags discarded in the first hundred yards. Time for a litter pick foray before things deteriorate and the morons think it the norm. I’m not sure when I will be able to get back up here as I can’t drive.It’s a cold, breezy morning with the wind moaning through the trees. Even more have come down since my last visit, and some are precariously lodged against others, not the safest place to be in a gale.Our usual round is giving the dogs a chance for some wild water swimming. Dogs don’t stay still for long for their portraits.

At least we have worn them out. Back home for some pasta and salad before the family heads to Manchester.I do appreciate all the well wishes and help I’ve received these last few days. Being able to walk up the Fell is so beneficial to me.

A LOCAL RAMBLE.

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What a beautiful day again. It was a frosty start but full sun, blue skies and no wind. Perfect for a walk. Again, I’m in luck. I have a phone call from a friend, C, suggesting coffee and maybe a walk. She knows of my predicament.

My ‘pilgrimage’ to Manchester is on hold; I would probably have been there by now, given the settled weather. But I’m delighted to be able to get out; my left hand is still useless, so I feel safer with the company.

After a coffee and a catchup, we set off on some of the lanes in Thornley.

Ferrari’s Country Inn has been in the same family for years but has recently been sold to Elle R Leisure, which owns other hotels and dining venues in the NW. Originally named Blackmoss House, it was built by the Earl of Derby in 1830 and was previously used as a shooting lodge. It was part of the Derby Estates until the late 1970s when it was taken over by the Ferrari family and transformed into a wedding venue. The new owners will name it Longridge House, which I think is a bit tame and has no real connectivity. Why not Blackmoss House or Hotel?

Today, there is much building activity in progress. It looks like an extension into the garden may be planned—lots of rubble, skips full of redundant goods, and burning mattresses. We poke into the skips and find whole dinner sets of white crockery. What a waste when they could have gone to charity. We speak to the friendly foreman who says we can help ourselves to whatever. (I just had a message from C to say that a carload is already on the way to the charity shops)

We walk on away from the acrid smoke. Across the fields, more massive ‘agricultural’ buildings have appeared. There is speculation about their use; a red glow surrounds them at night! The plot thickens.

Friends live in a cottage on the ridge above; we can see his house from here. I’ll have to ask them for information. I need to visit them sometime, possibly to acquire another couple of kittens. Here is the collection from a week ago.
The fields around Blackmoss are studded with molehills; some look ginormous.

On the road, we cross Gill Bridge over the infant Loud. We discuss the strange watershed hereabouts, which has the Loud flowing eastwards away from the coast to join the Hodder, which loops all the way around Longridge Fell to join the Ribble before reaching the coast. Meanwhile, streams just to the west, Sparling Brook and Westfield Brook, flow directly to the Wyre and out to sea, a much shorter and direct route.

In geological history, the Hodder did not flow eastward around Longridge Fell to join the River Ribble but instead ran westward along the Loud Valley from Doeford Bridge to the Derby Arms north of Longridge, continuing south-westward through Halfpenny Lane on the west side of Longridge to join either Blundell Brook past Broughton church and Woodplumpton to join the River Wyre, or else Savick Brook through Fulwood to join the River Ribble (Wikishire)

No explanation for this is given. I have read somewhere that glacial deposits blocked the Hodder in a previous ice age, creating the watershed and the present flow of water. The other is that the earth’s crust buckled or tilted to create the division.

Taking to the fields, we head back. Going in the opposite direction to my usual sorties, my navigation is not up to scratch. Along here somewhere, we lose contact with C’s dog, causing some consternation for a while. Of course, she comes bounding back as though nothing had happened. Safely on the lead now through the farm, along Clay Lane and onto the roadside pavement.

Longridge Fell, looming above.

We part company at Mile Lane, which I follow up into the park.

I want to see a new tree planting here. Here is the idea.

Longridge Environment Group

We are delighted to share that Longridge is about to join a small number of pioneering towns and villages across Britain with a micro-wood, or Miyawaki micro forest, at John Smith’s Playing Field. Led by Lancashire County Council’s Treescapes initiative, experts in this approach to ecology, and supported by Longridge Environment Group.

A miniature woodland, about the size of a tennis court, which is planted with native trees at ultra-high density on a specially prepared plot. To protect the tiny young trees from damage by deer and other browsing animals, the plot is ringfenced by chestnut paling.

Woodland soils have a fundamentally different character from those in grasslands. When trees are planted directly into grassland soils, they often have a higher failure (death) rate than those planted in woodlands. While most survive, they’re vulnerable to disease and drought stress and grow very slowly, as they expend so much energy on simply staying alive and healthy.

In a micro-wood, the trees are planted into a specially prepared plot, where the ground has been modified to create conditions much better suited to young trees. First, the turf is inverted, burying the vigorous grass and competing for nutrients with the trees. Then, the ground is cultivated to loosen the soil. This opens up air pockets, allowing water to percolate through the root zone, trapping warmth and allowing the roots to grow without forcing their way through cold, compacted soil. We then add about ten tonnes of organic matter, usually spent mushroom compost or well-rotted manure, topped off with about the same quantity of bark mulch. As well as fertilising the trees, this provides an instant home to the fungi, microbes and invertebrates that form the rich ecosystem supporting the trees. The mulch will also seal in water, be invaluable in hot, dry spells, and suppress competitive weeds, replicating the effect of leaf litter on a woodland floor.

When we plant the trees, we first dip them in a gloop infused with mycorrhizal fungi, enabling them to tap into soil nutrients more efficiently. The soil now resembles that of a woodland rather than a field. Conventional tree planting is carried out at a much lower density. However, when woodlands form naturally, the trees often grow at very high density. The trees that thrive initially aren’t usually the ones that create the mature woodland canopy. Species such as rowan, birch and hawthorn often grow much more vigorously than oaks in the first few years. These “pioneer” species act as a nurse crop for the trees that will later form the “climax” canopy of the mature woodland. The species mix for Longridge’s microwood includes pioneer and climax species and the small trees and shrubs forming the underwood of trees growing below the canopy.

We follow the theory of potential natural vegetation, devised by Prof Akira Miyawaki, who advised this woodland creation technique in Japan in the 1970s. In a nutshell, we plant the assemblage of trees in the correct proportions that we think would grow on a site, with a few compromises if natural processes were allowed to take hold. We don’t plant sycamore because it will get there anyway, and we don’t plant ash or elm because of the diseases they’re suffering from.

Once the roots have become acclimatised, the trees will proliferate from late spring. Expect rowan, elder and other pioneer species to get going first. The odd one may put on over 1.5m in the first growing season. Some trees may even produce flowers and fruit in year one. The trees will form a dense thicket within two or three years. This will provide a home to vast numbers of insects and other invertebrates. These animals are the larder newly hatched songbirds, bats, hedgehogs, frogs, toads and newts. In time, a pair or two of breeding songbirds may nest there, and amphibians will find it a safe and sheltered place to hibernate.

They haven’t planted any trees yet, but the site looks tidy and prepared with mulch and bark. I’m not sure the fence is high enough to keep out deer. it will be interesting to see how this project develops.

My next port of call is JD’s house. Again, more coffee and catchup.

He accompanies me back, taking me through the new housing estate, which is far more extensive than seen from the road. Parts of it are quite attractive, with great views across to the Bowland Hills – for now. There seems to be an adequate number of ‘affordable’ properties, some of them bungalows suitable for the elderly.

We part company at Sainsbury’s, and I return home after a decent and interesting ramble. It’s not been easy taking pictures on my phone one-handed.

I dine on soup from the freezer for the third night running. convenient and wholesome.

PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. ONWARDS TO WHALLEY.

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Day 2. Ribchester to Whalley.

I have time to look around Ribchester before setting off on my walk this morning. I spoke about its mill heritage last time, and today, I alight from the bus next to Bee Mill and its repurposed sheds.

Before the cotton mills arrived, in common with many areas of East Lancashire, the village was a centre for handloom weaving. The cottages of Church Street opposite the White Bull are a row of Weavers’ cottages noteworthy for their unusual configuration of windows. Built for the handloom weavers, they have three levels with a single window at the uppermost. Although it is commonly believed that the window in the top level is to illuminate the looms, this may not be the case as the weaving would probably have been carried out in the lowest part of the house because of the size of the loom and the need for damp conditions to keep the cotton flexible.

I pass both the pubs in the centre. I even have time for a quick look at the Roman Baths. It’s time to get moving. I follow the road eastwards out of the village, as taken by the Ribble Way. The pavement is narrow, and the road is busy, which is unpleasant. A true Pilgrim would follow the lane to visit the Norman church at Stydd with its medieval cross base. https://lancashirepast.com/2014/07/05/the-knights-hospitallers-stydd-church-near-ribchester/

I have been that way many times, and I know the field paths onward to Ribchester Bridge are particularly muddy. This area was flooded two weeks ago, so I continue along the road to the bridge. A recent crash has damaged the parapet, dislodging stones into the Ribble; a crane is being set up to try and recover them. The bridge was built in 1789.

I chose to walk the minor road to Salesbury Hall and then by the river to Dinkley Bridge. An alternative would be to keep on the north bank, but that path can be quite awkward. The two make a popular circuit from Hurst Green. I march past the grand gates of Lancashire Show Ground…

… and onto Salesbury Hall. A chapel existed on this site from medieval times, and slowly, a hall and estate developed around it. The original Old Hall was pulled down in 1883, and a large mansion was built on its site. Whenever I passed, it always reminded me of a French Chateau.

This hall was recently demolished, and a large modern mansion was built in 2005. Planning permission was also granted to convert the neighbouring farm complex into a rural office park—money talks.

I leave the road to enter Marle Woods. I pull out the trekking poles to negotiate the slippery terrain between tree roots. Here is Sale Wheel, the origin for Salesbury. Today, the Ribble is calm as it pours through the narrow rocky divide and spreads out in the ‘wheel’ before trundling on to Ribchester.

The footpath is slowly eroding away, a combination of footfall and floods.

The walk through the fields alongside the Ribble is a delight. More people are met, many doing the circuit I mentioned. We are all in a good mood with the winter sunshine. The new bridge is shining bright.

I catch a glance of the old Dinckley Hall before climbing up the road away from the river.

Branching off to Aspinalls. I find a seat for a break and a snack. The owners come along. It was their Mother’s seat, but I am welcome to use it. From here, I look across to Whalley Nab, with its pylon. The route goes up there next time.

Fields lead on before a drop to Dinckley Brook and ahead a holiday park. Static caravans are unexpected here in the Ribble Valley.

The path comes out at the Black Bull pub. More importantly, it is next to old St Leonard’s Church. I’ve been here many times; you can get the key to the church from the pub. Today, I look around the outside for evidence that it was built in 1557 using material from the dissolution of Whalley Abbey.

Beyond the church’s graveyard is another burial site – a large field dedicated to the lives lost in the adjacent Brockhall Hospital, a large Mental Institution in the old-fashioned sense. One of the largest mental institutions in Europe, housing 3,500 patients in 42 acres of grounds. A poignant memorial to the mainly unmarked graves of hundreds of residents. A Gerald Hitman bought the Brockholes site after the hospital closed and developed it as a gated housing estate. He and his son are buried there. For a more detailed reading on the hospital and its cemetery https://www.calderstones-cemetery.co.uk/brockhall-hospital-cemetery/

I do a little road walking, with Pendle ahead as usual, before fields across to Lower Elker where dogs come rushing at me. Fortunately, the lady farmer calls them off and has a pleasant chat with me about all things sheep.

The best and safest way to cross the busy A59 is by the bridge leading to Billington.

Whalley comes into view with the railway viaduct centrefold.

The public Right of Way towards the viaduct is blocked by a construction site with no explanation. They seem to be building everywhere in Whalley.

I am dwarfed by the railway viaduct – 600 yards long, 70 feet tall, 48 arches and over 6 million bricks, red and blue. There is a metal footbridge over the River Calder alongside the viaduct, Old Sol’s Bridge, originally serving a cotton mill on the south side of the river. It was built in 1993 to replace one built in 1909 and is named after Solomon Longworth, owner of Walmsley Mill, who donated the original bridge. Nearby is Longworth Street, formerly Factory Street, built for the workers at the mill.

Once across, I head under the viaduct and enter the village through the original C13th gateway to Whalley Abbey.

The gardens are open, so I go through the next, C19th, gateway to look around.

The pay booth is closed, but a sign says to scan the QR code to pay; I cannot do that, so I walk about for free, which is what I expect the other visitors are doing.

The Abbey was a large Cistercian abbey founded in 1296 and dissolved in 1536 when it was largely demolished. Subsequently, a country house was built on the site for the Assheton family. This, after many modifications over the years remains as a retreat and chapel.

Most of the ruins are just outlines of the previous monastic buildings. Some have fared better than others, and one gets a feel for the scale of the place.

My bus is due in a few minutes, so I don’t have time for the Church, I’ll start there next time.

I certainly picked a good day for this walk, with blue skies throughout and excellent views showing the Ribble Valley at its best.

***

THE START OF ANOTHER PILGRIMAGE?

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Day 1. Longridge to Ribchester.

A pilgrimage is best started from one’s doorstep.

As you know, I’m not religious, but I enjoy a walk with a purpose. If that purpose links religious or historical sites with a new countryside, I’m ready for the challenge. In the past, I have completed several ‘pilgrimages’. Possibly the most enjoyable was cycling the Camino from Le Puy en Valay in France to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. But I have enjoyed shorter trips in Britain. St. Cuthbert’s Way, St. Hilda’s Way, The Pilgrims Way, Two Saints Way, Lancashire Monastic Way. The list goes on.

I’ve found another one, recreating a route from Whalley Abbey to Manchester Cathedral courtesy of the Greenmount Village Walking Group. https://www.westpennineway.org/pilgrims-way-2/

But why not walk from home?

There should be a link-up. I am looking for a direct route to Ribchester before another to Whalley to connect with the above-mentioned Pilgrims Way.

There is a break in the weather after all those storms. It’s clear, but winter is still in the air. I leave at lunchtime and am unsure what held me up; just remembered it was the Big Garden Birdcount. I live just across from the pub. Perhaps a church would have been a better starting point, but there doesn’t seem to be anything of note in Longridge’s selection. *I take a shortcut up one of our stone terraces. There was a farm here before. I usually manage to get lost in the modern housing estate that follows. The climbing for the day is done by the time I reach the old Quarryman’s Inn, which is blue plaqued, but now an infant nursery. Down Tan Yard, through more quarries, houses new and old with views over our reservoirs and on to Lower Lane. Quitisential Longridge. The road is getting more hazardous to cross at the gated entrance to Higher College Farm. Now, a small industrialised site, but with hopes to develop an entire retail park, which is totally out of character for this rural setting. Their plans have been turned down for now. It would help if they would upgrade the stile for a start.

I’m now in open fields overlooking the Ribble Valley. But first, I need to pass through one of those agricultural graveyards where everything has been saved for the day it could be required – i.e. never. Lower College Farm is, thankfully, bypassed. They have some antique farming or milking implement on display. Any guesses as to what it is?

A brief spell on Hothersall Lane. I could have carried onto the bottom and followed the Ribble to Ribchester. But no, I want to try a Bridleway more directly to Ribchester. It is tarmac to Ox Hey and then muddy fields on unmarked paths; my GPX comes in handy on several occasions. The benefit of this higher way was the extensive views over the Ribble Valley, with Pendle Hill always taking the eye with the ever-changing light playing across its flanks. The Ribble winds its way through Ribchester, and from up here, it can be seen snaking into the distance, where the Hodder and the Calder have joined it. As well as Pendle, I can make out the lower hills of Whalley Nab, where this pilgrimage will take me.

I make a beeline to Parsonage Farm, where the land drops away to the Ribble Valley. I’m looking straight down to Ribchester from up here, and the staggered slanting roof lights of Bee Mill stand out.

This reminds me that Ribchester was once a busy mill village. There were two large cotton mills on either side of the road: Ribblesdale Mill, with 405 looms, now demolished and replaced by a housing estate and the above-mentioned Bee Mill, 320 looms, the remains used by small industrial and retail units. The latter is also known as Bannisters Mill from the family that has owned it for generations. When I first moved to the area in the early 70s, it was still operative, and we would buy fabrics from their mill shop. Its chimney was demolished in 2003. Here is an aerial photo from 1950, courtesy of Historic England, of Bee Mill in the foreground and Ribblesdale across the road.

But I’m getting ahead of myself – I haven’t even reached the village.

My path takes me to the site of Bremetennacum, the Roman fort of which much has been written. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bremetennacum Nearby metal detectorists are combing a field, presumably legally? I’m heading to St. Wilfrid’s Church, Grade I listed with abundant historical interest. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Wilfrid%27s_Church,_Ribchester

I go inside for a proper exploration, they have a good printed guide avaiable. There was a church on this site from the C13th, chapels were subsequentally addded and the tower in the C 15th. Unusully ‘dormer windows’ were constructed in the roof to give more light. Victorian restorations took place in 1881.

I find a few curios.

Dormer windows.

C14th font.

Church Wardens’ box pew.

Triple stone sedilia, for seating the clergy during mass.

C13th double bowled Piscina.

Inscribed box pew.

‘Lepers squint’ opening to the outside.

The Dutton Chapel on the north side contains fragments of a wall painting of Saint Christopher from the 14th or 15th century. At one time church walls would be extensively illustrated but most has been lost over the centuries.

Modern stained glass, Dutton Chapel – can you spot Pendle?

Fragments of Medieval glass.

Carved figure on a column to Dutton Chapel. C14th.

Victorian glass in the Houghton Chapel.

In a niche inside the church I spottted a Scallop shell, someone else has been on a pilgrimage. The scallop shell was traditionaly associated with Pilgrims, especially en route to Santiago de Compostela. Mine, from 2001, is hanging from my bed.

In the churchyard there is a prominent sundial. Its original C14th base was for a cross, crosses were prominent on Pilgrim routes as waymarkers and for prayer.

The Roman Museum is closed but I wrote about it here – https://bowlandclimber.com/2019/11/28/a-lancashire-monastic-way-6-red-scar-to-ribchester/

I wander down to the riverside, a picture of calm, and yet only two weeks ago it rose 10feet or more, flooding the lower part of the village, a frequent occurence. There is evidence of its ferrocity in one of the riverside trees. The fisherman across the way casting his favourite spot.

Today’s Journey really was completed at the Church; I wandered up the narrow lane to catch the bus home.

* After a bit more reading, I find that St. Lawrence’s Church on Chapel Hill in Longridge was built as a chapel of ease for St Wilfrid’s, Ribchester, in the early 16th century, So there is a connection, and perhaps I should have started there rather than at the pub.

***

Continue reading →

DAY TWO OF THE CANAL CLOG.

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After the trek to the restaurant, a good breakfast sets us up for the day. The day is dull compared to yesterday; as you will see, it stayed that way all day. Along with the rush hour traffic, we are soon back at the canal bridge. This area is known as Clayton le Moors, famous for its Harriers athletic club, JD used to run with them in the past.

Enfield Wharf is where we join the canal. There is an old warehouse by the steps, and what used to be stables are on the other side. Both are listed buildings and reminders of past trade and transport on the canal.

Copyright Mat Fascione.

Things are changing along the canal. A housing estate is being built right up to its bank, and already there has been a breach. To our eyes, they don’t seem to have reinforced the bank before the houses were started. Looks like trouble at t’mill. We use the canal towpath for about three miles; there are no locks on this stretch, but there is plenty of other interest. The M65 motorway runs parallel to us, so there is always some traffic noise. Leaving Clayton, we edge past Huncoat, where coal was mined, and bricks were fired; the canal would have been busy with traffic – as is the motorway now.

One of several swing bridges serving farm tracks.

And another.

We wonder how the chap we met yesterday is progressing on his trek to Leeds. Our canal stretch is over by bridge 119; we take easily missed steps onto a lane leading to Shuttleworth Hall—another world after the gentle canal towpath.

Shuttleworth Hall is a C17th Grade I listed house. It looks impressive, with the arched gateway leading to the towered doorway,1649 date stone, and all those mullioned windows. It is now a farmhouse, and we go around the back to follow the footpath. Dogs are tied up and barking, straining at the leash. It is worrying that the farmhands go to them and hold them down – “they like to bite.” We make a hasty retreat.

Down a track and then into a reedy field. JD thinks he has found the path. He hasn’t, and we flounder through the reeds before coming out onto a lane by an old cotton mill. Initially, it was water-powered, but at some stage, a boiler and chimney were built to provide steam power.

Crossing the busy road at Altham Bridge, we join the River Calder on its way from Cliviger through Burnley and onto Whalley before joining the Ribble. What an environmental disaster the next mile is. First, an evil little brook comes through the field from an industrial site. We can smell the hydrogen sulphide from some distance away. And then, the water looks like sulphuric acid bleaching the vegetation before discharging into the Calder. (back home, I may well try and report this pollution incident to the Rivers Authority, something I’ve not done before)

Then, what should be a pleasant walk through the meadows alongside the river was blighted by a continuous line of plastic bottles washed up by the last flood. There were thousands of them. Who’s responsibility is it to clean up this mess? I’m sure the farmer doesn’t have the time or resources to tackle it. Today, it is unsightly and probably of some danger to grazing animals. Still, it brings home to us the amount of plastic going down our rivers into the sea and probably ultimately into our food chain. The loutish public, who randomly dispose of their drink containers, are beyond educating. The only answer is for manufacturers and supermarkets to stop using plastic, but no government has the will to impose this. My hazy photos don’t show the full extent of the plastic.

We are relieved to leave the river and climb up towards Read. The old Blackburn to Padiham Loop Line is no more. But the history of it is fascinating to read giving an added insight into the area’s industrial heritage. http://www.disused-stations.org.uk/features/north_lancs_loop_line/index.shtml

We enter the village alongside an old mill now repurposed. Two large stone blocks, probably from the mill, will provide a lunch spot while we try to digest the plastic problem.

Rather than follow the busy road, we climb up into the posher part of Read, which eventually takes us through the grounds of Read Hall. I’ve often wondered about the domed stone structure in a field; looking up the listed buildings, it turns out to be a C19th icehouse with a square entrance on its north side, not visible from the lane. Beautiful parkland follows a far cry from the industrial centres only a few miles to the south.

I’m on familiar ground now and make a beeline to the cafe at the Garden Centre alongside The Calder. After a welcome coffee, we meet up with the river over Cock Bridge, thankfully, for a litter-free walk. A final climb up to Whalley Banks, an isolated hamlet of stone houses.

From there, we follow the old packhorse trail heading to Whalley Abbey. And there are those six million Accrington bricks of the famous viaduct.

We have no time to look around the town, as soon we are on a little bus speeding back to Longridge. Without venturing far from home, we have completed an interesting circuit: good exercise and a good stopover, all a little tainted by the plastic pollution we encounter.

Time to have another search on the LDWA site.

***

And by popular request, well, Sir Hugh and Eunice, at least – a clog song as suggested by Tony Urwin.

DAY ONE OF THE CANAL CLOG.

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JD’s wife drops us off on a frosty Moor Lane up Whalley Nab above the town. I know this is cheating, but it puts us directly onto on the route, saving 400 feet of climbing. And there is our first waymark: for the record, we are not wearing clogs!

A warm-up stroll along the lane brings us to a farm and a conversation with the lady farmer. She bemoans the recent theft of her quad bike, an essential tool on moorland farms. What she would do to the perpetrators is not printable. We can look back across to Longridge Fell and the Bowland Hills behind, but as usual in these parts, Pendle takes pride of place. All the snow from last week has amazingly disappeared. Once we leave the lane into rough fields, the walking becomes taxing for a mile or so. Waterlogged ground with the odd icy patch, undulating in and out of small valleys, awkward stiles, low blinding sunlight, navigational errors, and some thick gorse bushes to negotiate. I’m not complaining; just look at that blue sky.

When we reach the chain of reservoirs, things improve, and we meet other walkers. Some share our joy of the day, and others unhappy about the pending encroachment of urban areas into the scenery.

More awkward climbing brings us to a minor road on a ridge from which a misty Blackburn is seen down to the west and the distant sprawl of modern industrial sites and towns to the south and east in the M65 corridor. Other recognisable features, Darwen Tower and the Winter Hill mast, seem very distant. There are enough green spaces for our route to follow, and we have good views of the Hambleton Hills. Can you spot the canal?

We joined the Leeds-Liverpool Canal, 60 miles from Liverpool and 67 and a bit miles to Leeds, the longest canal in Britain. Starting in 1770, the canal took 50 years to construct, including the 91 locks. In the C19th, it became the main highway for industrial goods across the Pennines. A seat provided a good lunch spot after five miles of walking.

The towpath allowed much more relaxed strolling as we slowly circumvented Rishton, our first major mill town on the route. There was evidence of abandoned mills alongside the canal. Many have been demolished and replaced by modern housing; others are now used for different purposes. Out of interest, here is an extract from Grace’s Guide to British Industrial History, listing mills once operating in Rishton. Can you imagine the conditions and pollution? And the noise of all those clogs on the flags in the morning.

R. and T Clayton, Limited, Bridge Field Mills; 1,024 looms, fine shirtings, cambrics, fine jacconettes, satteens and velvets. Pay day every Friday, 10 to 12.

Edward Eccles and Sons, Wheatfield Mill; 702 looms, printers, mulls and jacconettes.

James Hanson, Rishton Mill; 20,000 spindles, 508/608 weft only; 600 looms, dhooties, mulls, jacconettes and fancys.

Rishton Victoria Cotton Mill Co, Ltd., Victoria Mill; 50,000 spindles, 208/50° weft, 168/328 twist; 1,100 looms, shirtings, T cloths, domestics, sheetings and heavy bleaching cloth. Pay day 28th of each month, by remittance. William Wilson, manager; R. H. Place, secretary.

Smithson Brothers, Daisy Hill Mill; 144 looms, heavy sheetings and twills; and at Bank Heath Mill, Golborne; and Spodden Vale and Lower Mills, Facit, near Rochdale.

J. Whittaker and Co, Spring Mill and Britannia Mills; 787 looms, shirtings, sheetings, printers and domestics.

As it once was.

There is a cafe on the bridge, but it is closed, so we explore further along the High Street until Cafe 21 appears. This cosy spot is frequented mainly by locals having all-day breakfasts. Two cups of coffee cost £2.50. which may reflect their quality, but we appreciate the sit-down. Off-road cyclists are having problems with their electric bikes.

Back into the countryside for a while before crossing the M65 on the Dunkenhalgh Aqueduct, built in the 80s.

Rude Health. Copyright.

Once over, we leave the canal for now and take an optional bridleway heading towards Church, a district of Accrington. The church is visible from a distance, above the canal at Bridge 112. This is a ‘changeline’ bridge where the towpath moves to the opposite bank, but the horse’s tow rope stays attached to the barge. My camera has gone to sleep along here, so my photos are taken from the Geograph site, with the original credited. A useful source of information – http://www.geograph.org.uk

Peter McDermott. Copyright.

Ian Taylor. Copyright.

I now regret that we didn’t follow the canal loop in full.

A family of gorgeous ginger cats inhabit the canal-side farm.

Just over on the other towpath is the halfway point on the canal with a suitable line, milestone and surround. 63 5/8 miles either way.

Mat Fascione. Copyright.

On a nearby bench, a youth tends his feet. Carrying a fifty-pound rucksack and doing twenty-plus miles each day, camping out each night is taking its toll, but he still hopes to reach Leeds in three days, ready for work on Monday.

We clog on slowly. Emerging onto the busy A678 Burnley Road, we have half a mile to walk before turning into the tree-lined avenue leading to the Mercure Dunkenhalgh Hotel. A C19th Tudor-style house built on the site of a C13th hall. Despite our appearance, we are upgraded to an executive double room unfortunately about half a mile away from reception and bar.

It was a bit of a slog this morning, but the canal towpath gave easy walking. A rest up in our luxurious room, a hot soak in the bath, a couple of pints and a bar snack. Perfect. The resident ghosts didn’t disturb my sleep.

***

HYNBURN CANAL CLOG.

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A search for likely walking routes in my area, Lancashire, on the Long Distance Walkers Association site, LDWA, produces an abundance of trails, long and short. To untangle that spaghetti, one can search for paths of a certain length within one’s area of interest. The forecast is suitable for a couple of days at the end of this week, so let’s see what comes up. A twenty-mile walk in the Hynburn district, that hilly industrial area between Blackburn and Burnley, The Canal Clog, would make a good two-day walk for this time of year. The reference to clogs links back to the area’s industrial heritage, cotton mills and canals. When I first moved to Longridge, another cotton town, way back in the early seventies, there was a clog maker trading there. The walk is apparently waymarked by a pair of clogs.

I download the route’s GPX file onto my phone and have a look at the description on the website, from which I print off the relevant parts. https://ldwa.org.uk/ldp/downloads/HyndburnClog.pdf

The Canal Clog cuts the Hynburn Clog into a northern half and a southern circuit, which we will look at another time.

Dividing the trail into two roughly equal days with an overnight stop halfway takes some planning. A well-known hotel, The Dunkenhalgh, is just off-route but an ideal halfway point if we can begin at a suitable place. I pinpoint Whalley as the starting spot. Approximately 10 miles each day.

I enlist the help and good company of JD for this walk. He is willing and enthusiastic as always, and his wife is happy for him to be away for a couple of days.

Here is the route untangled.

And this is the Borough of Hynburn.

The hotel is booked, so let’s go.

HOW HIGH’S THE HODDER MOMMA?

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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.

***

GOOD DAY SUNSHINE.

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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.

CHANGING CLOCKS. CHANGING PATHS. CHANGING TIMES.

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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.

PRIME TIME.

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I don’t on principle use Amazon, there is always a more direct online buying option. In any case, I try to buy local and support the shops in the village. So, you’ve guessed it I don’t have a Prime account. There will be a fair number of people in the Ribble Valley today cursing their Prime membership, their eagerly awaited parcels are stuck in the back of a van that is stuck on a bridleway not far from here.

I came out for a little exercise, to admire the autumn colours and do some fungal exploring. It’s that time of year, Prime Time.

The leaves are turning golden and falling fast at the same time. They are falling all around me like snow every time the wind blows. The stream is more lively than usual after some heavy rain in recent days. Excited children are playing poo sticks from the bridge, it is half-term for many. You may recognise where I am.

Most of the fungi I find are on dead wood, there are so many trees down from those frequent storms we are experiencing. A good find is a clump of ‘Jelly Ears’, its previous name now not acceptable, growing on a fallen beech. Auricularia auricula-judae has a soft, jelly-like texture. Though edible, it is not held in high culinary regard. It has been likened to “eating an Indian rubber” Though I read that it can be dried to give added flavour to stews. I leave it where I found it.

Wandering back along that bridleway I hear raised voices ahead, not the children I saw before. No there is some loud cursing going on. There, stuck half on and half off the narrowing track is a delivery van. Once alongside, I see that it is an Amazon Van, the blue type with ‘Prime’ blazoned down the side. It is a mystery as to how he progressed this far. Sat nav surely can’t be fully blamed, a hint of human error becomes apparent when the driver asks me “Can I get out if I drive on?” A resounding NO.

Another van appears at the end of the lane, no doubt sent Prime delivery from Amazon. The circus begins after some damming words between the colleagues. A tow line is set up and van number two starts pulling, only for the stricken van to slide further off the narrow track into the vegetation. More cursing ensues. The next try, I’m not sure that the two protagonists are on the same wavelength, only results in the ‘Prime’ van taking a decided lean to the port side. Now it is balanced on two wheels and in imminent danger of rolling down the hillside. My suggestion that they should remove the parcels before it is too late doesn’t go down too well. There is urgent talk on mobiles to the head office of tractors, cranes and winches.

Time to retire, it will be dark in an hour.

My curiosity is such that I am considering another nature walk along here tomorrow morning, purely for fungal research interests.

WHAT’S HAPPENING ON LONGRIDGE FELL?

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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.

MORE BOLTON-BY-BOWLAND HISTORY.

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I’ve walked quite a lot in the area around Bolton-By-Bowland, it is very special. I’m back here today with Clare and Zola to look at some of the highlights. It is too good to miss a day out in this September heat wave.

I have another of those Ribble Valley Walks of Taste to follow.

But we don’t follow it to the letter. For a start we leave the car in the little community car park by the bridge. I didn’t actually notice the Coach and Horses inn at all, so we fail to contribute to the Ribble Valley economy on this occasion.

Immediately by the bridge is a hidden well built into a wall, I can find no reference as to its provenance but it looks rather neat.

We are soon into fields, guided by clear signs but all warning of your dog being shot if not on a lead, we don’t tell Zola. My reason for taking this different route is to see the mediaeval cross base marked on the map and Grade II listed. The stone is obvious in the first field under a spreading oak. We are not far from Sawley Abbey here and there must have been tracks through the countryside with crosses for guidance and perhaps prayer.

There are a lot of beautiful mature trees to admire today in what was the estate of Bolton Hall. The original hall was built in 1229 and was set in a 2,000 acre estate. From the 14th century, the hall was in the hands of the Pudsay family until 1771. Henry VI hid here for a while after his defeat at the Battle of Hexham, he was later captured at Brungerly hipping stones over the Ribble. In another episode it is said that William Pudsay made a spectacular leap on horseback at nearby Ravensber Scar across the river to make his escape after being charged with counterfeiting silver shillings, the silver ore coming from mines on his estate near Rimington. The hall was demolished in 1958.

But we are not there yet. A bridge over the Skirden Beck means we don’t have to use the historic cobbled ford.

We climb up the lane to reach the drive to Bolton Hall, but before following it I indulge in another ancient cross diversion. It is in a field with no obvious access so I make do with a zoom photo, it looks very similar to the last one.

Now down the drive, the hall has gone but outbuildings, stables and cottages have been renovated to provide modern exclusive accommodation.

Of historical interest to us is King Henry’s well, where he may have hidden. It lies in the manicured grounds of the the Bolton Hall estate, but there is a gate for us to gain access for a photo at least.

Some of the renovated cottages bear witness to their antiquity.

I found this photograph of Bolton Hall in the early 1900s.

Moving on we traverse a series of fields and a pheasant cover which drove Zola mad, being kept on a lead. We are high above the Ribble now where Sir Ralph Pudsey was said to have made his horseback leap.

I have visited Fooden before and remember one of the house holders fitting a new weathervane, I wonder if it is still there. It is, though they have never got round to orientating the compass points.

It turns out the man is a stone mason and he shows us some of his finished work. The sandstone he uses comes from Longridge Fell. Seeing our interest in the house opposite he tells us of another one down the lane. Both are C17th and Grade II listed. Just about everything is listed hereabouts. In fact the parish of Bolton-by-Bowland contains 44 listed buildings.

Pleasant fields bring us back into Bolton-by-Bowland where we make a beeline to the C15th Church of St. Peter and St. Paul. Inside, next to the Pudsay Chapel, is a remarkable memorial to Sir Ralph Pudsay who died in 1468. A limestone slab carved with figures of Sir Ralph, his 3 wives, and 25 children, together with their names. It is difficult to photograph, I have tried before.

The village is a delight of stone houses and cottages around a village green where there is another stone cross and the village stocks. Well worth a visit.

***

A SUNNY TOLKIEN TRAIL STROLL, WELL MOST OF IT.

13 Replies

P1080840

An update on this old favourite.

I must admit I have crisscrossed these paths in a corner of the Ribble Valley many times long before the Tolkien Trail appeared. It’s a popular area made more so by those well known connections of the Tolkien family to Stonyhurst College. I’ve never been a fan of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings and I don’t know who came up with the idea of this themed walk, but it has been a great success. There are local guides and videos to the walk, some days Hurst Green is overflowing with visitors, many here for the Tolkien Trail. Local businesses must be rubbing their hands.

This afternoon I need a quick walk somewhere and the pin falls on the Ribble at Hurst Green. Parking up at that well known bus stop at Winckley, just up the road from Cromwell’s Bridge. P1080795

I happen to be on the route of The Tolkien Trail but I don’t follow it directly, I walk up the road to meet it where it enters the grounds of the college below St. Mary’s Hall. I pass Gardener’s Cottage which always brings back memories of an engaging young woman who worked as my secretary for awhile, she lived in that cottage, her father being the head gardener to the college.

St. Marys.

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I approach the Chapel but take the well worn path leftwards near the observatory into the field below the cricket pitch. This is the one where you can ring a bell if clay pigeon shooting is going on, I’ve never known it. This path used to be very muddy approaching the village, but recently has been ‘improved’, all very brutal but perhaps necessary. Instead of heading for Smithy Lane, my usual way, I take a vague path across a field to emerge directly into the busy village green. Millie’s is doing a good trade in ice creams and I avoid the temptation of the cosy bar of the Shireburn Arms. P1080804 P1080806 P1080807 P1080808 P1080811

The trail slips through the carpark of the inn. P1080814

There is a wedding celebration going on in the garden, lucky with the sunny weather, and the band is playing Tainted Love which I didn’t think was the best choice for a wedding. The field is full of cows and calves and a lurking bull. I’m not comfortable in the vicinity of bulls but he seems to have other interests.

Again the footpath has been upgraded all the way down to the Ribble through the woods, which must make coming up the other way from the river measurably better. Himalayan Balsam is taking over in places. You arrive by the river at the impressive aqueduct carrying water to Blackburn.

P1080823

It is along here that the path has been surfaced with strips of artificial turf recycled from some football club. Don’t step offside! It is wearing well, a good solution to ‘over’popular paths and preferable in my eyes to the linear gravel overlay that has appeared a little farther. Straight line next to a curvy river don’t go.

People are sat on the seat overlooking Jumbles Rocks where I had planned my usual drinks stop. P1080836 P1080837

The river is low and lazy above Jumbles and I watch this swan drifting about. In winter floods you can’t even walk this stretch, it is under fast moving water. P1080830

I move on up river, there is a popup campsite on the other side of the river at Hacking Hall, looks idyllic for families. The reviews for the site are enthusiastic.

Along here I spot a Heron standing guard, he or she is oblivious to the chattering Sand Martins swooping around the sandy banks.

I eventually get my sit down and drink by the confluence with the Hodder, the day is getting hotter. I’m hoping the recent storms haven’t damaged the Winckley Oak, no it is looking very impressive in full leaf. I realise I don’t often see it like this, I must mostly walk this route in winter, that’s also probably why I have never seen the campsite before.

But what’s this? A sign stating the footpath is closed and a newly erected finger post,

I wonder whether this is an official diversion or just the farm sending you round their buildings. I will contact Lancashire County Council about it, no luck yet as I’m having trouble navigating their new website, they never seem to get any easier. As it happens it is a decent diversion coming out above the farm buildings. It gives a different view of the oak and a good vista to Pendle Hill. P1080860 P1080862

The path across the once very muddy fields has also been improved in recent times and I’m soon back at the bus shelter. The domes of Stonyhurst College are fittingly on the skyline. P1080866 P1080871

I lose count of the number of people, and dogs, I have passed. I only miss out the loop around The Hodder today. One wonders what is the average yearly footfall on the Tolkien Trail? The number of recent ‘improvements’ bears witness to its popularity. How far do the authorities, with diminishing cash, go to promote and gentrify the trail?

***

Screenshot 2024-08-30 210521

BACK HOME ON THE FELL.

12 Replies

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.

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P1080782 P1080783

P1080765

Water always attracts the dogs and the humans. 20240826_162203 20240826_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.

15 Replies

P1070440 No 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. P1070442 P1070445 P1070448

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. P1070451 P1070453 P1070454 P1070455

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. P1070458 P1070459

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? P1070466 P1070468

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.

P1070477 Renovations 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. P1070484 P1070485 P1070488 P1070491 P1070498 P1070500 It 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. P1070510 P1070507

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. P1070512 P1070511 P1070513

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 P1070519 P1070520

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

ABOVE WADDINGTON.

6 Replies

P1070183

“A pleasant ramble through the pastures above Waddington and up onto the fell for breath-taking views over the Ribble Valley before returning via pretty wooded ghylls”.

Another in my present summer series based on pubs in the Ribble Walks with Taste – Visit Ribble Valley

This time we have a choice of three pubs in the picturesque village of Waddington and I combine two of the walks starting from here. I do have my favourite pub which will become clear towards the end. JD and I pick up KP from Chipping and manage to find a challenging potholed narrow lane through Bowland to Waddington. How come it’s raining after the last few days heat wave? The village is alive with early dog walkers.

We first take a well used lane from the back of The Lower Buck past glacial deposited Pinder Hill, the site of a Bronze Age burial mound, and then a farm where sheep shearing is in full progress.

Unusual wall – leaving Waddington.

Newly shorn.

Longridge Fell in the distance.

Then we dive into rural paths where few tread, although the waymarking is reassuringly good. A concessionary path takes us around Lower New House and into an overgrown tunnel of shrubs. Page Fold looks impressive with Porche and Ferrari parked in the court yard. We take to the fields and skirt Colhurst Hall which I was hoping to see.

Do you remember? They used to run together.

Emerging from the tunnel.

Down Rabbit Lane to the ancient Braddup House, dated 1669, where a bridleway heads north in rather wet plantations. Would be a nightmare in winter. Even when we come out of the trees the going is rough in reedy marshy fields. Height is gained onto the lower slopes of Waddington Fell. It would have been good to have carried on up to the summit but the footpaths run out before the open access begins and beside we didn’t have time. One of those iconic P&NFS signs appears, we take the path towards the fell road.

Braddup House 1669.

The boggy bit.

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Waddington Fell.

We are looking for a spot to have a break but the cold wind deters us. Around the isolated Daisy Hill which I see is a listed C17th farm house, should have had a closer look. The next few fields are a little overgrown with no obvious path, well we don’t find one, but do reach the road. This is the road going over the fell to Newton. We spot in the distance houses where the Moorcock Inn used to be in the past, do you remember it? We reminisce on meals there and friends departed.

What path?

Looking at the map the next section along Mill Lane and through properties looked complicated but in fact is well signed and the natives are a friendly lot. Not sure how the planning permission process works for all these upmarket houses. We drop down to Waddington Brook but don’t follow it directly down what looks an interesting ghyll but climb back out to above the woods. The cattle have churned up the ground and therefore the going is not easy, we are glad of our overdue break taken on a large log. It is from up here that there are views across the Ribble Valley over Clitheroe to the ever present Pendle. We are coming up to a General Election next week and there have been some boundary changes, Gerrymandering comes to mind as Clitheroe, at the heart of the Ribble Valley, has been transferred to Pendle, I don’t expect the residents were consulted.

Rough ground. Pendle and a murky Clitheroe

As we loose height towards the covered reservoir at Feazer Farm we have a grandstand view of four walkers trying to find a way out of the enclosure. Our instructions tell us to skirt round to the right and we emerge into the farmyard with no problem. The four flustered lady walkers, on holiday from York, are glad of our directions. The question often arises on these outings – why don’t the farmers make it easier for us, and hence them, by adequate waymarks?

Spot the ladies.

A hidden path goes over a high stone stile and then easily down the field towards tall sycamores and Waddington. We come into the village alongside the ‘Hospital’ Alms houses. Their history is worth a read. Ladies only may apply.

The right direction.

Alms houses’ gardens.

Waddington is always full of flowers. P1070201

As I said there are three pubs to choose from in the village, we choose the friendly Lower Buck for an after walk drink in the sunshine.

The Upper Buck.

Waddington Arms.

A good day out with friends though not the easiest of walks to follow from this series.

For a little more information on the area and pictures have a look at my post from July five years ago.

***

Screenshot 2024-06-27 201223