Tag Archives: Art and architecture.

THE TELFORD T50.

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I have never visited Ironbridge, one of the birthplaces of the Industrial Revolution. So when I spotted this 50 mile walk around the area I was intrigued. There is a good website telling you everything you need to know with downloadable maps and descriptions. Being old fashioned I like to have a printed copy so a couple of years ago sent off for the guide. This gives a better insight to the industrial heritage and the natural environment along the trail.

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For all sorts of reasons I’ve not got away for awhile and this was high on my list of trails to explore. There are others on the backburner. The last month has been hectic with a cataract operation and a plethora of other hospital visits, but I find myself with a week free of appointments. A session on a well known website and I have managed to book accommodation for the trip. It was not easy with demand being high in the holiday season, as you will see I have taken individual variations on the sections of the walk to fit in with accommodation vacancies. One could walk all the trail sections based in Telford centre, using buses each day, but that is a faff, and I like to sample the different lodgings as they come along. 

The train service to the area seems good and I have booked the journey, again being old fashioned I have the actual paper tickets to hand. 

A problem arose with finding my cat, Seth, a holiday home whilst I’m away. His usual cattery is having a show down with DEFRA over the size of their feline pens, a couple of centimetres short, and are closed. Seth has never complained in the past. I tried another cattery and they were full for the whole of summer. The third on my list has space for him thankfully, otherwise the trip would have been off, friends who in the past have looked after him at home are no longer with us. 

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“The Telford T50 50 Mile Trail was created to celebrate the new town’s 50th anniversary in 2018. The trail was designed to showcase the many beautiful green spaces, interesting places and industrial heritage”  

This is the route in outline –

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The trail is apparently waymarked but in urban areas the discs have a habit of disappearing. We shall see.

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Time to get the small backpack out, dubbin the boots and create a new category on this webpage, Telford T50. As it is only 5 or 6 days I shall be traveling light with just the clothes I am wearing. 

TELFORD T50 – 6. Wellington, the northern loop.

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“a delightful ramble through the town, woods, local nature reserves and across open spaces”

The best breakfast of the trip set me up for the day.

A well marked route, often shared with the Shropshire Way, takes me through Wellington centre, where I duck down Ten Tree Croft, where cloth was hung in the C18th (tenter) and eventually into Dothill nature reserve. There are extensive woodlands and two lakes. It is dog walking territory. Some of the trees have identification plaques, and it turns out there are 50 of these. I don’t think I can recognise 50 trees. I do a loop around the second lake before another housing estate. Wouldn’t it be good to have the time to follow the whole 50 tree trail.

The path leading to Apley is hemmed in by the dreaded developer’s fencing;. “It was all green fields last year,” a passing couple tell me.

Entering the grounds of the former Apley Hall, one immediately notices the variety of trees that must have been planted in the estate’s heyday. The pool is closed to fishing  due to an infestation with blue-green algae. Several other pools passed this week are in a similar situation.

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One of the reasons to complete this northern loop was to see the famous Yew Avenue. I will soon turn down into it for a wonderful view. I don’t know it’s age, but halfway down is one very old yew. 

I join the Silkin Way, for the last time, a lovely avenue of limes, and some juicy blackberries..

I almost catch a bus back from near here but persist with the convoluted route through housing estates into the centre of Wellington, with a view up to the Ercall and Wrekin at the end. . 

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I have time to spare so go in search of that little middle-eastern café, Dina. I enjoy a bowl of lentil soup and a delicious falafel/salad wrap for the princely sum of £4.  To top it off I go next door to ‘Spoons’, The William Withering, for a £1.79 pint of Ruddles.  Luxury. P1070571

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Well that has been a great mini trip. Good to get away for the first time this year. The Telford T50 is a well thought out trail, obviously devised by locals who know the area and the best bits. The guide book is excellent for background information and precise navigation. Waymarking was excellent. There were more ups and downs than I expected. I did about 7,000 ft in the 48 miles I actually walked.

All the joined up green spaces in the vicinity of Telford make the walk feel rural for 90% of the time. Passing through one doesn’t catch much of the wild life that must be thriving here. A  good blueprint for new towns, we should have more of them rather than the haphazard new developments plaguing our rural areas.   

As for history this trail has so much, almost too much, industrial heritage. Everywhere there are detailed information boards to explain that history. And if you have taken to the area, as I was, there so many  other interesting trails to discover.P1080601

TELFORD T50 – 5. Little Wenlock, over the Wrekin, to Wellington.

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“it is a highlight well worth the climb”

I can almost see The Wrekin from my bedroom window but there is a tree in the way. I’ve been able to see its sharp profile from most of this week’s walk, now all I have to do is climb up it. The T50 goes below it with an option to backtrack up to the summit and then reverse the last section – a strange way of doing it. I plan to walk to the far end and then climb up and over with no messing about.

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The first mile or so, on a little lane, is all downhill, not the best of starts. The day is more pleasant than of late with a refreshing breeze. Along the way The Wrekin is visible with its nobbly bits obvious.

I pass the junction where The T50 goes off and walk on, hoping there is a right of way along my planned route. I arrive at the  forest drive and find there is a permissive way. Not by the scout camp but close to it. The estate’s map, which shows the permissive paths clearly. is upside down, which is strange.

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The climbing begins gradually and then levels out going from deciduous to fir trees. There are distant views south with the shapely Caer Caradoc prominent.

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I join the Shropshire Way to go steeply up the western nose of the hill. It is steep and slippery, but I just plod on. The secret is not to get out of breath. A little zigzagging helps. Runners pass me easily, but there are no others coming this way.

First, you reach a volcanic rocky outcrop, where you can pretend you are on Striding  Edge for a while.

A good spot to sit and take in the views south to the other Shropshire hills and distant Wales. Down below to the east is Telford and its satellite villages where I’ve been walking for the last few days. I’m glad I stopped here for the views rather than up at the top, as you shall see.

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Up ahead I can see lots of people at the summit trigpoint, 407m, mainly taking selfies of their achievement. I arrive to find one man leaning on the trig point, talking loudly to his wife on his mobile when others wanted to reach the trig, especially as the base is a work of art. He carries on for over 10 mins, oblivious to anyone else. There is also toposcope to identify distant hills etc, but it is being trampled all over by a trio taking pictures, no doubt to share on Instagram. A right circus, or perhaps I’m being petty. What else do you expect on a popular hill in the summer holidays? I make a quick exit as hordes more are arriving.

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There is a board explaining the hillfort up here, but as usual for me, I fail to make out much on the ground. Could this be a hut circle?

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In my rush to get off I didn’t thread the needle’s eye. The way up for most has actually been concreted at some time, a final degradation of a hill, they are wrecking the Wrekin.

In the woods, lower down peace returns. I stop and sit for a while and admire the beech trees.

Lower still is the Halfway House, a café where I enjoy a coffee in their garden. A nice surprise. I don’t know where everyone parks their cars but is it really halfway? I am told the café has just been taken over by a charity helping ex-offenders, Yellow Ribbon, well done.

Thankfully, the T50 takes a different route to most, and I don’t see anyone else for a long time. What a beautiful stretch of mature forest. Even a fallen tree is showing signs of life again.

A short stretch around a reservoir, and I come onto a minor road. Just as I am about to dive back into the woods, I spot up ahead a hotel serving coffee. I go one better than that and enjoy a well presented serving of tuna and cucumber sandwiches, all in the luxury of their lounge bar. My downloaded map tells me I’m off course!

Back on course, I enter Ercall Woods. An old quarry is seen high up with volcanic overlaid with sedimentary rock, dating from when animal life had begun to change to a having a skeleton, 500 million years ago. 

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Beautiful beech trees give way to sessile oak higher up.

I am not sure which little path goes where, but I reach the fence overlooking that quarry, and that is as high as you can get, The Ercall, 265m. What a contrast to the Wrekin seen across the way.

Coming down I just wander at will, enjoying the peace and quiet, especially after my Wrekin experience. The greenery continues almost into Wellington down below. I’m jolted back to reality by the sound of the motorway, which I duck under.

I come out on Holyhead Road, Watling Street, not far from my B&B, but there across the road is the Wickets public house, time for a refreshing pale ale to replace all that sweat.

My lodgings are reassuringly old fashioned. A shared bathroom down the corridor, mix and match furniture, and electric extension cables all over the floor, all looked after by a delightful lady in her latter years. When did you last have a chocolate marshmallow or chocolate finger?

In the morning I will walk the north Wellington loop before catching the train home.

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TELFORD T50 – 4. Ironbridge to Little Wenlock.

“bear right for paradise”

A day and a half! Lots of walking and lots of sightseeing in the gorge, the ‘raison d’être’ for this trip.

The day starts with a climb up from the river into Lloyd’s Coppice woods. A clear path winds its way through the trees high above the valley. At one time these hills were used for timber and coal mining for the nearby furnaces but all is peace and quiet, a perfect start to the day. And then the steps appeared, climbing higher up Blists Hill. No sooner up than I am going down, Old King Cole style.

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Somehow I go round in circles for a while down at the entrance to Blists Hill Museum, a working village. The museums in the gorge can all be accessed by a rather expensive yearly ticket, maybe good value for  regulars, but of no interest to me just passing though. I will have to be content with the the free bits.

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Blists Hill furnaces

I can see the old railway below me but can’t find a way out of the car park to reach it. Once I read the guide more carefully I’m on my way. I’m back on the Silkin Way, the disused L&NW Railway line which has come down from Telford the easy way. All I have to is walk into Coalport. I pass under Hay Inclined Plane designed to lift boats from the canal below. It is under scaffolding here but more of it later.

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The buildings by the canal, including a YHA, are part of the Coalport China factory, now a museum. The brick kilns are remarkably well preserved, I suspect rebuilt in more modern times, Under a bridge can be seen the end of the inclined plane. High above it connected to the Shropshire canal built in 1790, coal could be transported from the pits to here and then down the incline to the china works canal. Finished wares then shipped down the River Severn close by. The ingenuity of the first industrialists. In 1861 the London and North Western Railway arrived and the canals ceased to function. In the mid C20th china manufacture was moved to Staffordshire.

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I cross the River Severn on the Jackfield and Coalport Memorial Bridge, a WWI memorial, arriving on the doorstep of The Boat Inn, with the heights of flooding marked on the door.

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Going alongside a massive wall, Maws Works, I read that from 1883 -1970 it was the largest tile factory in the world. Local clay proved ideal for encaustic tiles, those decorated ones found in Victorian houses, pubs and churches. Now what is left is a craft centre and apartments.

I pass the Half Moon pub, there seem to be a lot of pubs in the gorge. Those workers had quite a thirst, and now sufficient tourists must keep them open. A bit of rarely trampled greenery by the river and then I’m in Jackfield.

The next major attraction here is The Ironbridge Gorge Tile Museum. I do poke my nose into the Peacock Café of this place and end up with coffee and cake. A lady with her dog is sat on the adjacent table, I complement her dog, always a good conversation starter. She is biding time whilst her daughter and husband paint tiles in the museum (dogs not allowed), and they will be fired and sent on in due course.

A short walk along another old railway, a branch of the Great Western, and I pass the home of Jackfield Brass Band in the old Coalford Wesleyan Chapel. 1825. It would be good to hear them playing in the gorge on a sunny Summer’s day.

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At last I arrive at the Ironbridge Toll House, not looking good under scaffolding. Inside is a little museum telling the story of the bridge. The first cast iron bridge in the world, built in some ways to highlight the progress of the iron industry of the area. It was designed by an architect T F Pritchard, enthusiastically funded by ‘Ironmaster’ John Wilkinson, and built by the Quaker Abraham Darby. It was completed in 1779 and opened in 1781,replacing a ferry across the Severn. Closed to traffic in 1934 and freed from tolls in 1950, the price hadn’t changed from 1781- a halfpenny or a pedestrian.

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It best viewed from the riverside.

All along here are cafes and tourist shops, and yet more pubs. There are some smart cottages and houses, again with well tended gardens.

By the road side are Limekilns used when there was a large amount of limestone quarried on Lincoln Hill above. There is the usual informative board that I have come to expect on these trails.

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The museum near here has no exhibitions any more because of repeated severe flooding, sign of the times. Down the road the co-op is housed in an old warehouse, as is a smart gallery.

Across the way is a steep lane, Paradise, climbing out of the gorge. Soon, I’m back in the woods and a few hundred steps up to The Rotunda. This was originally a covered viewing platform with a revolving seat for the gentry to look down upon all their industries. All that is left is the platform base, and trees are robbing the views.

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Base of the Rotunda.

In my header photo taken from up here you can just make out the Ironbridge in the woods by the Severn, Here’s a zoom to it.

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The woods following have lots of tracks – ‘Sabbath Walks’ devised by C19th industrials to provide leisure for the workers on a Sunday and keep them out of all those pubs.

Bearing left, as I usually do, I never achieve Paradise.

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Soon I’m dropping down into Coalbrookdale.

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Here there is a large historic iron industry complex, The Museum of Iron. I’m not sure what is on display in the Museum but I head straight to the café for a pot of tea, it has been a muggy day down in the gorge. You probably need a tea or something stronger if you have read this far with me.

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In the  grounds are the remains of an early furnace and the attendant infrastructure, including the waterwheel building and the upper pool, which fed it.

Through the many arched viaduct, the Great Western Railway, that ran until 2017. Above are houses on the hillside habited by the Darby families. Dale House, built in 1717, and Rosehill House, built in 1738. They have been restored in the style of the period but close at three. The workers’ cottages are higher still. I meet the dog lady again, with her family, and the tiles painted look impressive.

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The day is slipping away and I have four more miles to go. That is the last of the museums and I’m heading into more open countryside. Back down the hill I go through a little arch into a different land. Loamhole Dingle is a delight of shady paths alongside a sluggish stream.

I escape up steps and follow a lane into Lydebrook Dingle which gives more of the same before steps climb out into fields.

I realise I’ve hardly seen any livestock on this walk – until now. 

Some of the fields are massive – this machine is a modern type of hoe.

I’m quite high up but the distant hills are in haze, although The Wrekin is getting closer. I follow the Shropshire Way into the small village. The Huntsman is all a walker needs, at a price.

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I feel miles from Telford, another world. Tomorrow there shouldn’t be any historical industrial incidents to slow us up, I promise.

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TELFORD T50 – 3. Telford to Ironbridge.

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“Madeley Court Hotel… is open to non-residents and there is a pleasant lakeside bar”

Late morning and I’m doing a diversion to see the C17th Madeley Court. It is surrounded by pools.  I’m hoping to get a morning coffee as it is now a hotel and it is now  coffee time.. But something is strange. There is a heavy presence of burly security men all around and at the entrances. No way are they letting me pass, and they are not for telling me why. “No photographs sir”.  Conspiracy theories go through my brain, but I’m most disappointed about missing that coffee.

Earlier I had made my way past the shopping mecca, all 25 acres of it, at heart of Telford,

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Suddenly, I’m in the Town Park, all 370 acres of it. There seems to be something for everyone in here. Fairground, zoo, paddling pools, climbing wall, lakes, all sorts of playgrounds, cycle hire, and trails going in every direction. The Telford T50 officially starts by the old chapel, which is strangely in the centre of a kiddies play area.  There is the usual map and info, but the first section of the way is closed off for repairs. Not a good start.

I take a nearby road, which soon becomes the T50 with the now familiar waymarks. Families are out for walks, and a few cyclists come by. Along this stretch, I divert to have a look at the 209ft high Stirchley chimney, a remnant of the iron works started in 1790. The whole area was rich in Ironstone, wood, and then coal, limestone, and clay. Can you imagine the activity and pollution back in the heday of industrial production.

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Soon, the waymarks suggest I’m following the Silkin Way, here an old railway, originally a tramway. It goes all the way to Ironbridge directly, but T50 will take in convoluted paths through several nature reserves.

The Dawley and Stirchley station platform has been preserved. Trains last ran in 1952. The ‘line’ goes under an aqueduct, which brought water to the Coalport branch of the Shropshire Canal, which predated the railway.

Along this stretch, I meet a couple in their eighties out for a 15-mile stroll. They regularly do twice that amount, amazing. In contrast, a man on a mobility scooter stops to chat. I notice he is on oxygen. It turns out he has asbestosis, that cruel industrial disease. But getting out as much as he can. All very humbling.

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Now, out of the Town Park, I leave the Silkin Way at an old windmill to head down to Madeley Court.

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After the missing coffee a few intricate paths through flowering meadows, just follow the waymarks, land me in a confusing housing estate, turn on the app. Once extricated, I come across the Dawley Pools, supplying water for the canal in the past. A couple of anglers are just setting up for the day.

I pass more pools, which are overgrown but must be a haven for wildlife. I stroll on through the maze of trees. There are few ancient trees as they were cut down in the industrial era. Mostly, they just regenerated naturally after the pits and furnaces were abandoned. Though new trees have been planted on some of the contaminated brownfield sites.

After crossing a disused railway, there is a newly surfaced path through Rough Park. Alongside bordering a stream, I notice a gate leading to a community willow plantation. Different varieties are being  grown, and there are some willow arches. It would be good to be part of that community.

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The first uphill of the day and a series of those dreaded steps lead up into a more open area of Rough Park looking north. A bench provides a suitable lunch spot. Dog walkers appear from all directions, all very friendly and proud of their woodland walks. Buzzards are soring overhead.

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Housing that I navigate through next shows little architectural imagination. More housing is destroying a wooded area. I see notices up asking people to object to overdevelopment of their green spaces. I think it is too late.

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Further on, I walk through a smaller nature reserve maintained by the community. Let’s hope the land is safe. Another small nature reserve follows now looking out over the wooded Coalbrook Dale, 500ft below, the Wrekin pops up its head as usual.

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All of a sudden, I’m in the  little lanes above Ironbridge. Workers’ cottages, some a few centuries old, display some lovely cottage garden flowers.

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One cottage squeezed into a junction is delightfully named The Wedge of Cheese.

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A plaque on an other records the birthplace of Billy Wright, the famous footballer from the fifties, if you remember.

Across the road was the old pub where the nine Madeley miners bodies were taken to after the mine shaft disaster of 1864.

Off route I find a steep stairway dropping all the way down to the Severn, Wisteria archways and little wild spaces add to its charm.

This brings me out right next to the remains of the Bedlam Furnaces which I wanted to see. All that remains are the rear walls and foundations of the engine house, bellows house and one of the furnaces. All is covered by a big tent and the casting area where pig iron would have been run into sand moulds would have been in the car park. Most people drive by without a look.

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Bedlam Coalbrookdale. c1780s.Edward Dayes.

You’re familiar with the word ‘bedlam’, a chaotic scene. The word emerged as a nickname for the early asylum, The Bethlem Hospital, established in London way back in the C15th. The scene in the early C19th painting below hints at the conditions in the valley in those days.

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Coalbrookdale by night. 1801. Philip James de Loutherbourg.

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I walk alongside the River Severn to reach my comfortable abode for the night, ‘Ye Olde Robin Hood Inn’. 

It’s been a long day with lots of history below my feet. I am ready for a pint of Holden’s Black Country beer, brewed in Dudley.

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TELFORD T50 – 2. Lilleshall to Telford. (Plus an Abbey)

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“the ruined medieval Lilleshall Abbey is some distance from the trail – best left for another occasion”

It takes 10mins to walk to Telford central station to catch a bus to Lilleshall. The crossing of the road and the rails in the futuristic bridge is dramatic. The buses are running half an hour late, and it is Lille-shawl not Lilles-hall! The bus goes around the houses, and one  begins to realise the size of this not-so-new town. I just looked it up, and the population is 190,000 almost the size of Preston. I have not started from where I finished yesterday, it all looked a bit too built up and I’m not a slave to the guide. (Probably means I’m walking the Telford T45)

My Bus app tells me when to get off, right outside of the church in Lilleshall. I have a look inside, although it dates from Medieval times, most is Victorian.

I plod up the lanes where there are some prime properties in a prime situation. A lady asks me about my walk and then tells me of some Abbey ruins not to be missed only a mile or so away. I half take it in, as often people underestimate walking distances. I’m more concerned at the moment with climbing the hill to see the view and the Duke of Sutherland monument.

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Up to now, it has remained hidden despite being on of Shropshire’s landmarks. The views improve as I climb, and a board tells me what I am looking at. The Wrekin is the stand-out feature and I hope to climb it later in the week. But other Shropshire hills are in view as well as distant Wales. Years ago, I completed a round of the Shropshire tops with my old mate, Mel. I shall have to revisit my diaries to check what we did. That was when we did 20 + miles a day, and now I am happy if I get up to 20 kilometres.

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The Duke of Sutherland is a controversial figure, hated in Scotland for his cruel Highland clearances. Yet here in the Midlands, he seems to have been a good landlord and philanthropic manager. I seem to remember climbing to a monument to him just outside Stoke. His monument here is certainly impressive and dominates the area from the 132m hill.

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I am soon back in the village, and there in  front of me is a footpath heading towards Lilleshall Abbey, which I’ve checked on the OS map, maybe a mile away. Decision made I climb the stile.

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Once away from waymarked, named trails, the state of public footpaths may vary. The next mile emphasised this. Not many come this way. The paths take erratic ways across the open fields, needing careful navigation ( that means using my phone to keep me right) Then, I’m faced with a field of corn through which no one has ventured this season. I walk  around the edge and escape onto the road. This is how public rights of way are lost,  I’m not being a hero today.

The Abbey is just off the road, modestly signed. But wow, what a place it turns out to be.  I marvel at its size and some of the intricate carved sandstone. The surviving abbey buildings almost all date from the late 12th and early 13th centuries.

The English Heritage web site gives a potted history – https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/lilleshall-abbey/History/

After wandering around I find a seat for a break and snack, I’m glad I came.

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Back along the road to pick up the T50 as it crosses fields towards housing at Muxton, on past the impressive golf course, and then into Granville Country Park.

This area was the centre for a thriving iron production industry as well as extensive coal mines. In 1764, the Granville family set up a company to develop the mineral resources on their land. This became the Lilleshall Company in the early C19th. A canal was constructed as well as rail lines eventually to facilitate the transport of materials. Some of the earliest blast furnaces in the country were constructed.

All is now disappearing under vegetation. The coal mines closed in 1979, and the land reclaimed. I spot bits of industrial heritage. The canal basin is remarkably intact, and some of the massive furnaces are still visible.

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There are interpretation boards everywhere so here is a concise guide to Iron making to get you up to speed.

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It is pleasant wandering through the woods with good waymarking on the myriad of paths. The birds are heard but not seen and there is prolific plant colonisation of the waste land. I just wish there were more insects about.

There are quite a lot of steps encountered which seems to becoming the norm for this trail,  the whole area undulating because of former mining operations.  One flight of steps takes me to “The top of the world.” Old spoil heaps giving more great views over Shropshire with The Wrekin as prominent as ever.

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Housing developments are creeping in everywhere. The open countryside and views disappear behind high fencing.

I’m getting ready for a break and some lunch when on the corner appears a pub, the New Cottage, . It is in the process of being modernised, probably not for the better. It doesn’t look inviting but a drinks a drink. I sit outside with a pint of Sharp’s Atlantic Pale Ale, all the way from Cornwall, and eat my sandwich.

A few streets, and I’m going around the water of Priorslee Lake (The Flash), a pleasant interlude with people  picnicking and fishing. All this minutes away from busy roads and housing, the essence of new town planning. There was talk of building more new towns to solve our ‘housing crisis’ rather than the haphazard development occurring on edges of our towns and villages.

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The route takes me through the older part of Priorslee village with cottages originally built for the iron workers and the odd house for the bosses.

Pedestrian alleys take me over roads and railway back to the centre of Telford. The road I was hoping to use was closed so I braved a dual carriage way for a time.

Quite a long day in the heat. I’m moving on tomorrow, down to Ironbridge. 

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TELFORD T50 – 1. Wellington to Lawley.

P1070628“the former opencast pits have only recently been restored to green fields”

A long day. Half the day is spent getting here. My bus ride before 7am into Preston was interesting.  No delays as it is school holidays and for a change there were no roadworks. At one stop, I witnessed a simple fraud carried out by a couple of lads. The first gets on the bus, buys a ticket, and promptly out of sight of the driver throws it out of an open window  for his mate to board the bus with! Would never have thought of that. Of course, it won’t work if an inspector appears, but when did you last see one of those.

Preston is not joined up transport wise. It is a 15min walk to the rail station from the bus station, but I try to factor that into my planning and have time for a coffee. Usually works. Change at Crewe. “Oh, Mr. Porter, what am I going to do?” always springs to mind. Another change at Shrewsbury, and I’m on a Welsh speaking train. It’s only one stop to Wellington where there is a distinct Midlands’ accent as soon as you step out of the station.

I immediately take the wrong turning and am lost, it is easily done in towns. It’s best to rethink and slow down, I head back into the centre and into a little Eastern café for a coffee, a bargain these days for £1. The food looked and smelt good. I may try it when I’m back here in a few days on my circular route.

Refreshed, I find my way across town, whose Medieval buildings will have to wait until I’m back. I do however pass the site of a former Chad Valley Toys building, I remember those. A little further and there is a blue plaque to the painter Cecil Lawson – I had to look him up.

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At last I’m on Limekiln Lane, which gives a clue as to past industries hereabouts. Limestone was mined and quarried in the 18th and 19th centuries and used as a flux in early iron making. I’m probably following the old tramway taking lime and stone to Wellington, situated on the important Watling Street.

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At some stage before going under the motorway, my first Telford T50 roundel appears, I have probably missed some in town. These red, or are they pink or purple, waymarks thankfully become a regular guide to the walk.

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I find  that within the first few pages of a written guide, one either likes and trusts the writer’s style or one resorts to the map and intuition. So far, it’s early days, but Anne Suffolk seems to be on the mark in both general information and directions. The maps in the guide are too small a scale to be useful for serious navigation, but they give a general idea of the route. I have downloaded the route map onto my OS app on my phone for when I’m lost. This is the first time I’ve employed this system, I’m slowly getting up to speed with modern technology. The app map hasn’t been needed in earnest yet.

This an easy lane to drive up and dump rubbish.

The limekilns would have been used to produce quicklime for mortar, lime wash, and soil fertility. Charcoal used first from the abundant woodlands and then coal from nearby provided the high heat necessary. Once into the woods I can I peer down into the tops of several kilns in amongst the trees, the brick work still clearly visible. It would have been interesting to see the kilns from below. There must be a track down there somewhere. The woods and open glades, being on limestone, are rich habitat for orchids in season, which, of course it isn’t, Yellow ragwort seems to be everywhere this year.

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Onwards and forever upwards, I hadn’t read the contours. The next stretch is more open, and the site of old bell pits and shallow shafts for the coal seams lying close to the surface. Coal mining here continued even into this century, but all is greenery now. Some of the open cast areas can just be made out.

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An old tramway. 


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Spoil heap next to track. 

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Recent open cast remains.


?flooded old bell pit.

?an old flooded bell pit.

After getting on for two hours of steady climbing, I reach a minor road at New Works. ‘New’ relating to the the C18th Darby family development of the area for coal to supply their furnaces at Coalbrookdale. No doubt more of this later in the walk, there is so much historical information in the guide book, on the many interpretation boards I’ve already come across and on the internet. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coalbrookdale#Industrial_Revolution

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Now there is only a collection of modern bungalows with good views over Shropshire and no doubt beyond. My route takes me on to the ‘Trundle’, not an expression I have come across relating to paths. Anyhow, a good wide surface takes me down through the woods to emerge onto the main road through Dawley/Lawley.

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The new builds here appear well constructed and interesting architecturally. All these suburbs are part of Telford new town, which started in 1968 trying to preserve some of the green networks and industrial areas. The Telford T50 was designed to reflect these and was to commemorate the 50 years since the start of the works. There is a prominent Mormon Church here and I get all the local information I need from one of the many dog walkers. Until now I hadn’t met anybody on the trail.

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As usual, a golf course appears on a long-distance walk, and this is where I go wrong for a while. Waymarks disappear, and I feel I’m trespassing, but with persistence, I emerge unscathed. It looks like a challenging course for the golfer as well as the walker.

I walk around peaceful Horsehay Lake, the pond for the iron furnaces and foundries. The lake remains, but the rest has mostly disappeared. What does remain, though, are the rows of workers’ cottages. Delightful Old,1750, and New,1830. I could live in one of those. 

And what is on the corner? A fish and chip shop. I can’t refuse the chance of a chippy lunch sitting looking over the lake. The ducks get my scraps.

The Telford Steam Railway looks a jumble, lots of work for the dedicated volunteers to get stuck into. I’m sure on a weekend when Steam is running it will be more exciting.

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The way forward coincides with The Ironstone Way, there seem to be lots of well-used trails in the area. I’m supposed to be walking alongside Lawley Common, but new developments have taken over.  Many obviously, since the guidebook was published in 2019.

The speed at which we devour the countryside is frightening.

I find myself in Morrison’s  café for a cup of tea. Those chips were salty. I had thought of going on a few miles or so, but it looked like suburbia all the way, maybe I am wrong, but I’ve had enough, 7 miles this afternoon, and call it a day.I seek out the bus stop reputably adjacent to Morrison’s. There is a bus in 5 minutes, obviously nobody seems to know where from. Why would they, they have all driven here. As I get onto the main road, my bus goes sailing past to stop a couple  of hundred metres farther on, but too far for me to catch it.

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Am I in Dawley or Lawley? I seek help from a lovely Indian man running a takeaway grill on the street. He phones for a taxi, and while waiting, we put the world to right. Should give his café a shout-out, but I didn’t get its name.

I was soon transported to my lodgings for the night, only two miles away – the Ramada in the centre of Telford.

A very comfy room and a deep bath. With eating those chips mid afternoon, I settle for a pint of Camden Town pale ale and some crisps in the bar.

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***

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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.

***

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CHIPPING IS STILL BLOOMING.

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Bowland is a good place to be. I have friends around me today to isolate me from the worst of world affairs, did you listen to PM Netanyahu’s (a potential war criminal) vile speech to congress yesterday?  We, five former colleagues all in our dotage, set off from near that iconic Bowland red phone box in the hills beyond Chipping.  I don’t know the plan but I’m in the hands of the resident local ‘guide’, sometimes it’s just good to go with the flow, even for me having a somewhat ‘in control’ psyche.  P1070401P1070402

It is all familiar for most of us but none the worse for that as we tramp westwards across the base of the fells. A posse of cows watches us from the hilltop. This is curlew country par excellence and I’m pleased to report we saw and heard several. P1070400

You may remember this ford crossing from the other day, again no one fell in. P1070404

There are eggs for sale today at Saddle End, I have brought some loose change for half a dozen. We go through a gate helpfully signed Chipping, I don’t think I’ve used before, this is exciting. P1070406

Our ‘guide’ leads us down a vague path, over a footbridge and up again to suddenly find one of those favourite P&NFA signs in the middle of a field. All well off the beaten track. 

We drop down to the imposing house above the mill dam, once the house of the millowner. Yes I have been this way before. P1070412

The party straggles out as we wander through the old chair works, due for some sort of redevelopment. I’ve often wondered what the steps were going down to the brook, Ian doesn’t know but says he will ask a friend living here the next time he sees her. Well the next time he sees her is a few minutes later when she walks up the lane. She remembers her family going to the brook to wash clothes. Another one of life’s problems solved.  P1070413

We catch the others up and dive into the busy Cobbled Corner café for pots of tea, soup and sandwiches. Well recommended. P1070415

I repeat my tour of the grave yard to visit Lizzie Dean’s grave under the ancient yew. Have a look at my last post on Chipping for the video tale of the whole tragic episode.

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Casting aside the sadness we enjoy the blooms in the village, It has reached the finals of the competition. P1070417

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All is very familiar to many of you as we leave the village and enter the grounds of Leagram Hall with its lovely trees. That’s Pendle in the background. P1070428

We don’t continue to the sheep farm but cut across the park to pick up a footpath to Knot Hill. I often find this difficult to follow but today our local ‘guide’ leads the way unerringly.

All that remains is to follow the bridleway down to the ford and up the hill to our ‘guide’s’ house. A mooch around his garden and then coffee before we all disperse after yet another enjoyable Bowland walk, about 6.5 miles. P1070395P1070398

Interestingly our one lady member is leading a walk tomorrow of friends, they call it the Chatterbox Walk. I’m thinking us men should form a group for more regular walks – the Silent Saunter.

***

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KENDAL CALLING.

I had this to say back in March. “After my recent soaking on Longridge Fell I decided on some indoor culture for Tuesday. There were some interesting exhibitions at Abbot Hall Gallery in Kendal. I drove up in horrendous wet conditions on the motorway, found somewhere to park, £3.50, and walked to the hall only to find it only opens Thursday to Saturday at this time of year! Why didn’t I check? I phoned Sir Hugh in Arnside hoping for some sympathy and coffee, but ironically he was in Preston shopping. Drove back down the motorway in more horrendous wet conditions. Hope I didn’t get a speeding fine.”

So Kendal has been calling me back ever since. The exhibitions I wanted to see are still on, but not for much longer. Time to enlist my cultural friend Clare, of ‘slate poem’ fame.  I kept my camera in my pocket for most of the day, you will have to visit yourself.

After parking we get distracted by the adjacent imposing Holy Trinity Church. P1060939 Screenshot 2024-06-08 184354

On entering the church you are immediately struck by its size, a central nave with two aisles on either side. One of the widest churches in England.

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Photo from kendalparishchurch.co.uk

We wandered around admiring the stained glass windows and various chapels. A shaft of an Anglian cross dated approximately AD 850 took my attention, I’m fascinated by ancient crosses, their history and importance. Clare was drawn to a tapestry depicting John Speed’s 1612 map of Kendal.  Threads Through Time, a community effort, commissioned by the Environment Agency and the church to celebrate the history and heritage of Kendal and its related Flood Risk Management Scheme.. This early map is significant because it highlights the important links between the town and river, and references the town’s woollen trade. 

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Unveiling of the tapestry June 2023. Facebook.

*

Abbot Hall is just across the park. It isn’t very welcoming from this side, somehow we go in via a side door and end up in the café from where complicated stairs lead us back to reception.  I have an Art Fund Pass which gives me free or reduced price to most galleries. My card shows an expiry date of May 2024, I suspect I have kept this one and thrown the new one away! I pay up the £12 fee which does at least give you access to Abbot Hall for a year. 

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The back side of Abbot Hall, or is it the front?

There are four themed exhibitions on display at present. Art Herbarium, Lakeland Art collection of Portraits, Claude Cahun prints and Gilbert Spencer. We just follow our noses around the charming intimate rooms. As a distraction there are are views of the grounds towards the river from the windows. P1060919

But first there is a room dedicated to The Great Picture which depicts family history of Lady Anne Clifford (1590-1676) and her fight for her rights.  Painted during the English Civil War by a Jan van Belcamp (1610-1653), a Dutch artist. “it is a rare celebration of the life of a woman from that period”.  Not easy to photograph.P1060917

Art Herbarium.

A selection from their collection focusing on nature. John Ruskin was represented as was an ‘unidentified Sea Captain’. Beautiful flower paintings by Winifred Nicholson and the even more exquisitely illuminated letters from the Cumbrian artist Percy Kelly. P1060920

Portrait Galleries

Contemporary artists, such as Kendal-based artist Lela Harris have been invited to exhibit alongside the Abbot Hall collection. Highlights from the collection include works by George Romney, Joan Eardley, Lucian Freud, Hilde Goldschmidt, Victor Pasmore, Celia Paul, Kurt Schwitters, Stanley Spencer and Charmaine Watkiss.  P1060921P1060923

Claude Cahun.

An exhibition of giclee prints blurring and distorting her age, identity, and gender. Born Lucy Schwob, she adopted the pseudonym Claude Cahun in 1917 to free herself from the narrow confines of gender. All a little unnerving to my delicate palate. P1060925P1060926

Gilbert Spencer.

 A selection of this English painter’s major works. “Painter, muralist, illustrator, teacher and writer, Spencer’s career spanned more than six decades. During his lifetime he was recognised as one of the leading artists of his generation and one of the most successful art professors; teaching at the Royal College of Art, Camberwell College and Glasgow School of Art”  His brother Stanley Spencer is possibly better known. Of particular interest here is the time the artist and his students were evacuated from London to Ambleside in the Second World War. There was a series of cartoon like sketches from his time in the home guard. P1060928P1060933Screenshot 2024-06-09 185440P1060930

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And one I particularly liked in memory of the ardent Wolves fan Dave. P1060932P1060931

 *

On the way out we spotted a statue in the church grounds. A quick park up revealed this to be a beautiful wooden carved piece by James Mitchell, unveiled only last week based on Speed’s map of Kendal we had been looking at in the church. The Kendal Parish Riverside Sculpture.  This was another commission by the Environment and Kendal Parish Church as part of the flood relief scheme. “It is made from an Oak tree that came down during storm Arwen which was kindly donated by Bill and Ali Lloyd and came from their farm in the Upper Kent Valley. This 170yr old tree was a vital part of the ecosystem and helped slow the flow and nourish our landscape. The map shows Kendal as it was then and is populated with parts of that history and wildlife. It shows the valley and is headed with the hills of the Kentmere horseshoe. The other side of the tree is an abstract form that represents the flow of the river, the contours and texture of the landscape and the stunning beauty of the wood itself.”

Why had neither of us taken a photo of the tapestry?

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James Mitchell carving. Facebook.

On the way home was an opportune time to call in on Sir Hugh for cha and chatter. 

*

This afternoon whilst writing this post I can’t get a certain song out of my head  – Kendal  no, but it’s London Calling, a post punk hit from the 80’s. Joe Strummer at his pomp. Not to everyone’s taste but it will liven up a dull Sunday. 

CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – GREAT HILL FROM ANGLESARKE.

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Walk number 30 from Mark Sutcliffe’s walking guide. 9 miles.

I’m sat in the shelter at the top of Great Hill having a lunch time snack. There is a cheeky cool wind from the north.  I’m chatting to a bloke who has come up from Rivington the opposite way round to me. My hard work is over and I’m confident about the next couple of miles on the flagged path across Redmond’s Edge which I walked a month ago. Once again there are no distant views, Longridge Fell can just about be made out in the distance, but no hope of photographing it.

The day started badly with half an hour looking for my camera back at base. It was hidden in a shopping bag in the car yesterday whilst I visited Sainsburys. I know I shouldn’t hide things these days as I never remember where. I end up like a demented squirrel searching for his nuts.

Calm restored and another coffee drunk before I venture out onto the motorways. I’m soon through Chorley, past The Black Horse, the Bay Horse and The Yew Tree. Funny how you remember an area, all pubs we used to drink in after climbing in Anglesarke Quarry.  I park on the road just above the quarry but there is no sign of anybody climbing there today. How the trees have grown and obscured the buttresses. P1060733

Dropping back down the road I take the obvious way alongside Anglesarke Reservoir and onto High Bullough Reservoir. I don’t seem to recognise the way at all despite countless traverses before. P1060735P1060738

A random photo appears at Bullough Reservoir with no explanation. Here is what I found later. “John Frederick La Trobe Bateman FRSE FRS MICE FRGS FGS FSA  (30 May 1810 – 10 June 1889) was an English civil engineer whose work formed the basis of the modern United Kingdom water supply industry. For more than 50 years from 1835 he designed and constructed reservoirs and waterworks.” There is a lot more about him on Wikipedia, he had an amazing career. P1060736

A chance encounter with a walker in a group, extolling the virtues of ‘Trekking Poles’. I concur with him, having used them for forty or more years, ignoring the comments back then – “where is the snow”. But this chap is serious, having attached heavy weights to his poles to give him a full body workout. I’d never heard of that before. Impressed or perplexed I continue with my feather light poles.

There are some lovely trees along this stretch, I like the way those three have gown as one – Entangled Life. P1060742P1060743P1060739

I recognise the road near Waterman’s Cottage nestled between the trees at the end of the reservoir.  I popped out here once to see Bradley Wiggins flying past on a training run, remember him?

I hesitate my way forwards, but a lady points me across fields in the right direction to White Coppice. We fall into step, she explains that she is six weeks after a new knee operation. You would hardly know as she keeps up a good pace whilst waiting for her husband, freshly retired, to catch up. I relate to her my friend Sir Hugh’s first knee operation and the thousands of miles he covered and even after his second new knee he was still averaging 10 miles a day. I hope I have given her encouragement to eventually go beyond what her specialist has mentioned. We part company at White Coppice as they head for lunch in Brinscall. I don’t get to take a photo of the iconic cricket pitch as I keep to the right hand fell side of the Goit.  P1060745

This is then the steep bit. Up from the sign, which at first looked like one of those erected by Peak and Northern Footpath Association, but no, this is a Ramblers copy. A surprising number of people are climbing up this way. Can you see the white Mormon tower in the top centre?P1060747P1060746P1060751

At the end of the steep bit are the scattered ruins of Coppice Farm with an excellent information board including a map of the abandoned farms to the north of Great Hill. Can you imagine farming only 5 acres up here? They presumably would have been largely self-sufficient with the occasional trip down to market to sell and to buy.

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Onwards. I’m envious of the runners who effortlessly pass me and disappear into the distance. Distant memories in deed for me.  

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At a cross roads of paths another Ramblers sign appears. What is the Thomas Lockerby Footpath Fund?  “It uses the income from the assets of the Fund to preserve, maintain or improve public footpaths and bridleways located not more than 50 miles from Manchester Town Hall.” Do we need this proliferation of signs on the already well used paths? Would the funds not be better spent on gaining more access to the countryside within 50 miles of Manchester?P1060766

Onwards I pass another abandoned farmstead, Drinkwaters. I should nave looked for their spring water supply.P1060771

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Onwards the summit comes into sight but it still feels a long way off. P1060786

I’m passed by a youth running bare chested with no spare clothing. He does however have his head phones on so has missed the sound of the wind and the skylarks. Of course he stops at the summit for a selfie and then disappears back down. Make of that what you want. Off road cyclists are looking more and more like trail motor cyclists, which is in fact what many of them realistically are. Old age grumpiness over. P1060793P1060794

The way across the ridge is indeed easy with all those flagstones. Everywhere around me is bleak moorland enriched in parts by the nodding white cotton grass. All I have to do is find the path going west downhill 300m before the Belmont Road. Did I pass it just then, I backtrack but am not convinced. I come back and there within 5m it is. Obvious. P1060802P1060803P1060804

Pleasantly downhill towards more abandoned farms, Higher and Lower Hempshaw’s. Not much left standing. P1060808P1060812P1060815

I cross a stream onto a track and then take the wrong “grassy track by a tumbledown wall” There are tumbledown walls everywhere. All is not lost as I do a longer loop on a land rover track above the Yarrow Valley. Another ruin is passed, Simms. The scenery is changing from the bleak uplands to green fields and wooded cloughs with Rivington reservoirs in the background. One forgets how close to Bolton and Manchester we are. P1060817P1060818

Not concentrating I miss a faint path going right into trees and find myself at junction of paths in Lead Mines Clough which I recognise. I need to be farther north so I head up the stepped track leading to the Wellington Bomber Memorial, remembering a 1943 aircraft crash nearby. For a detailed description and more information I recommend reading – Bomber Zulu – Anglezarke.net

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By now I’m well lost, there are paths everywhere and I end up getting my phone out to plot a way back Jepson’s Gate. A final stroll down the road and I’m back at the viewpoint carpark.  P1060729

Todays walk felt like stepping back in time with the ancient tracks, mine workings and abandoned farms.  I have a book which paints an intimate picture of those lives only a hundred years ago.  Lost Farms of Brinscall Moors – Carnegie Publishing  What will the scenery look like in another hundred years?

***

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A RAMBLE AROUND CLITHEROE.

P1060609Another from a leaflet in the series of Walks with Taste in Ribble Valley, this time setting off from the centre of Clitheroe. I’m becoming lazy with route planning and relying on someone else’s choice, Ribble Valley BC this time. It promised “starting from Holmes Mill, wandering through the grounds of Clitheroe’s Norman Castle to the River Ribble for an easy riverside ramble” P1060718

I park in a side street in Clitheroe near Holmes Mill which has its own small pay and display carpark. The place is just opening up and I will sample its delights later in the morning.

My first objective is Clitheroe Castle and I navigate a series of steep and sinuous paths to reach its ramparts. Arriving at a terrace  there is an ornate stone turret, strangely from the Houses of Parliament, presented to the borough by its MP (Sir William Brass) in 1937, in commemoration of the coronation of King George VI. Also known as the Pinnacle, it dates back to the mid-1800s when there was rebuilding work at the Palace of Westminster after a fire. P1060604P1060594P1060600

On the next tier is the oft photographed  war memorial, a sculpture of a soldier standing in a mourning pose with head bowed.  The main inscription reads “Erected by the inhabitants of Clitheroe in grateful remembrance of their fellow townsmen who gave their lives in defence of their king and country in the Great War 1914 – 1918”. The sculptor was Louis Frederick Roslyn,  (incidentally you will see the same figure at a memorial in Slaidburn) P1060608

On its rocky limestone outcrop the remains of the castle keep rise above me , up yet more steps. Built in 1186 by Robert de Lacy, the Norman keep, reputed to be the second smallest in England, was in an important strategic location. After the death of Henry de Lacy in 1311, the castle passed to the Earldom of Lancaster, and then became the property of the Duchy of Lancaster. The castle was used during the Wars of the Roses, but was soon in a state of disrepair and it  was damaged further by Parliamentary forces during the English Civil War. The castle was privately owned until 1920 when it was sold to the local council to establish a memorial to the First World War.

The medieval buildings associated with the castle have all disappeared. In the eighteenth-century Castle House in the castle grounds is a museum which of course is not open a this time of day. P1060605

I climb to the top for views over the Ribble Valley, into Yorkshire, the cement works and the nearby Pendle Hill. All a little hazy. I do spot the  white Waddow Hall, at the base of the Grindleton hills, I’ll soon be walking close by it. But first I have to find my way down. 

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Leaving the grounds I notice one of the Tercets installed at intervals on The Lancashire Witches Walk enjoyed with Sir Hugh back in 2016. P1060626

I made a special effort to come and see Dandy, the Black Dog last week and here I am again walking past him near Booths Supermarket.  The Platform Gallery at the railway station is open so I have a look around at the art and crafts on display resisting any attempt to purchase. P1060631P1060634P1060635P1060636

Time for some proper rambling. I make my way through familiar streets down to Brungerley Bridge and my reunion with the River Ribble for the third time in thee outings. A gentle stroll downstream and I see the imposing C17th Waddow Hall on the opposite bank. It has been used by girl  guides for decades but now the Association in their wisdom has decided to sell it. P1060644P1060650P1060655

The river has been placid until now where it flows over a weir and cataracts down the valley. This is where water would have been taken off into a leat for the mill downstream. Out of the woods and past all the horsey fields and tidy allotments. Down here was once a mill village, Lowmoor. In 1928 when the mill closed, there were 200 houses (many back to back), nine shops, a National school, church and two Methodist chapels. The mill was demolished but many of the houses remained now being swallowed up by a modern estate on the site of the mill. P1060657

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I pop out onto the road between the Swimming Pool and gym and head back to the river at Edisford Bridge. I walked this section less than a week ago. The riverbank being popular with young families. Still no Kingfisher.P1060667P1060668

 Across the road, the one leading to the tip, and at last onto new ground –  a field path alongside Pendleton Brook.  A hazy Pendle Hill in the background. New housing is spreading out here and soon after the railway bridge I’m hemmed in.P1060671P1060675

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Did an architect actually design this.

I recognise the buildings of Primrose Mill, an early cotton mill, which have been tastefully converted into office spaces. At Scott Bridge the culverted Mearley Brook heads through the complex before joining the for aforementioned Pendleton Brook. A fish ladder has been built along this stretch to give fish access to higher water beyond the dam of Primrose Lodge, Having spent thousands I wonder has anybody told the fish. P1060681P1060682

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Looking down onto the fish ladder.

 

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Fish ladder in construction.     ribbletrust.org.uk

Rather than walk along the road I take to the Primrose Nature Reserve which follows the valley of Mearley Brook beyond the lodge. At the end I escape up a cobbled street towards the church.P1060683P1060692P1060696

It’s noon when I find my way into the Holmes Mill complex. A former C19th Textile Mill, it was the last working cotton mill in Clitheroe, steam-driven until 1973.  Historic England  tells you all about it.  In the last ten years redevelopment has resulted in a cornucopia of beer, food, ice cream, cinema, bowling alley and hotel. I head for the Beer Hall, said to have the longest bar in England, and home to Bowland Brewery. I choose their new season pale ale – Happy Hedgehog and find a quiet corner to enjoy. There are more waiters than customers. As well as the Bowland Beers the bar holds at least 40 other drafts. Next door is the engine room with a steam engine in situ. The bistro and foodhall  are packed with customers. P1060698P1060712

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Four and a half miles and I was home for lunch. More of a verbal ramble than actual walking.

*** 

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RAMBLING ON THE RIVERBANK.

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My enthusiasm in last weekend’s sunshine for getting an early start has waned. Today I’m still faffing about late into the morning, procrastinating over the weather and a suitable walking route. But the weather is improving so I shouldn’t miss the day. Whilst I was in Clitheroe I picked up half a dozen leaflets describing walks based on local pubs. Walks with Taste in Ribble Valley. published by Ribble Valley Borough Council and sponsored by Whalley Warm & Dry, a trusted outdoor shop.

I find on their website there are more, 16 in total and all downloadable.P1060494

For convenience I choose the one starting in Hurst Green, 15 minutes away. 

“This riverside ramble starts from the Shireburn Arms and descends through farmland to the River Ribble, crossing the impressive footbridge at Dinkley, then following the river downstream towards Ribchester, returning through the woods and pasture to  Hurst Green.”

I have walked this way many times but never tire of it, a route for all seasons. So lets go.

Parked in Hurst Green by 12 am. I take the familiar Lambing Clough Lane down to the dilapidated farm, Trough House. I can never tell if anybody actually lives here, a few years ago there was an invalided lady struggling on. There must be life as there are cars about and pullet eggs for sale.  (Pullet eggs are small, extra-rich eggs laid by young chickens. Loved by chefs, they are not usually found in Supermarkets. and often go to egg powder factories)  £1.50 for a dozen Michael!   I buy six and use my waterproofs to hopefully transport them safely.  A good start to the day.

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Trough House.

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Pullet eggs.

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Shopkeepers.

I cross the heavily engineered new Dinkley Bridge, which has replaced an earlier, damaged, suspension bridge and an even earlier ferry.  One of my old posts from 2015 illustrates that earlier bridge. Today the Ribble is in playful mood down the rapids, I have seen it in full spate here –  a sight to behold. P1060543P1060546P1060551

I wander down to the sandy beach which was probably thronged last weekend. You can find a wide variety of geological pebbles down here.  Strangely I find a decent garden trowel which goes into my backpack. 

Then the sheep cropped turf is a delight to walk along. A meeting with a Blackburn Muslim couple gets me talking about early days vegetable shopping in Whalley Range, Blackburn and the Chapati and Dahl cafes back in the 70’s. P1060553P1060556

Into Marles Wood, a tangle of tree roots. Trees seem to be having a tough time recently with lots blown down in the area.P1060562

The river is fast flowing through the gap into Sales Wheel where it all calms down again, I’ve seen it much worse.P1060569P1060570P1060566P1060568

I escape from the trees onto the road for the unavoidable mile long trudge to Ribchester Bridge. The river will be flowing faster than I am walking. Along the way…

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Salesbury Hall.

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Manor Court Offices.

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Elderflower wine?

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Ribchester Bridge.

The lane past the timber store, signed The Ribble Way, has been resurfaced and I’m soon back on the riverbank for awhile. This section can be difficult, flood debris, tree roots and the river itself encroaching on the path. All good fun. I push my way through Himalayan Balsam  which will be more troublesome later in the year. P1060497P1060509P1060510P1060511

A metal gate, despite being bypassed. is probably safer than a dilapidated wooden stile.

I never quite know where to go after leaving the woods away from the river. Vaguely up the field, down to a stile and up the next field to an oak tree and gate. It’s up here you get those views down to the Ribble and Dinkley Bridge with Mother Pendle in the background, Onto a lane above Heyhurst, down again to a footbridge and then alongside fences. My leaflet gave decent directions. Shame that the Ribble Way is denied access to the Ribble for long stretches. A failed project.  P1060527P1060525

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I walk through a sea of buttercups. The cows are back in the fields, time for me to start heading to the fells. At least this lot are lying down – said to be a sign of rain in country folklore. (Cows are more likely to lay down when they’re chewing their cud rather than when expecting a storm.)P1060532P1060529

I’m back where I started almost, why didn’t I wait till back here to collect the eggs? It did come onto rain along the road to Ribchester Bridge but as you know my waterproof was being used as safety wrapping for the half dozen eggs.

By the time I reach the top of the lane I’m ready for a pint in the Shireburn Arms. Bowland Brewery beer and a packet of crisps equate to the calories my phone says I have used on the walk. C’est la vie.  P1060585

Another point, regarding the Trade Descriptions Act, less than two miles of this nearly six mile riverbank walk were on the riverbank. Blame that on the anglers and landowners denying us access to our rivers.

I’ve enjoyed it none the less – a classic Ribble walk. 

***

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ALL HALLOWS CHURCH, MITTON, AND A BLACK DOG.

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Following my morning’s walk to Clitheroe and back by the River Ribble I had time to look around the church in Mitton, which was fortunately open. It features in Simon Jenkins England’s Thousand Best Churches.

The church dates from the late C13th.

Inside, the chancel screen includes some medieval woodwork, which possibly came from Sawley Abbey,  after the dissolution of the monasteries.. There are ornate carvings on it.

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In the C16th a chapel was built on the north side of the church to house memorials of the staunchly Catholic Shireburn family from Stonyhurst. The alabaster tombs, dating from the 16th to the18th centuries. are said to be some of the finest in England. This is where it gets complicated, all of the men commemorated by the effigies in the chapel were named Richard Shireburn.

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The first Sir Richard died in 1594 shortly after the chapel was built. and is buried with his wife Maud, with voluminous petticoats. The detail on the carving is exquisite. It was created in the Royley family workshop in Burton-upon-Trent.P1060432P1060434

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Sir Richard’s son died in 1629 and he is remembered by a large plaque on the north wall, depicting Sir Richard junior and his wife Catherine, kneeling in prayer, plus smaller images of their children.  Two of the children are pictured in a bed, suggesting that they died in infancy.  P1060425P1060423

Three more altar tombs along the north wall are to the next succeeding generations: Richard (d.1668), Richard (d.1689) with his wife Isabel ( d.1693) and their son Richard (d. 1690). it was Isabel who commissioned the four marble effigies in the chapel before her own death in 1693.  These were I think sculptured by William Stanton of Holborn, London.

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Richard Shireburn, d.1668.

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Sir Richard d.1689 and wife Isabel.

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Richard Shireburn d. 1690.

A monument on the west wall, is to Richard Francis Shireburn, (grandson of Richard and Isabel), who died in 1707, aged nine. The centre piece is thought to be his mourning mother. Screenshot 2024-05-28 222428P1060415

On the floor is a badly eroded figure of a knight in armour, the notice tells the story. P1060435P1060436.

What a unique chapel telling the story of the Shireburn family whose legacy lives on in Stonyhurst School. Here it is seen from outside with the date stone and Shireburn family coat of arms above the door.P1060481P1060476P1060478

Whilst I’m outside in the graveyard I search for two Grade II listed historical relics – a sundial and an ancient cross.

The sundial is a tall inscripted, sandstone shaft dated from 1683. P1060460

The medieval cross has a C14th round head on a more modern shaft. The head depicts scenes from the crucifixion. It possibly came from one of the monasteries after dissolution. P1060462

Not far away up the lane is the base of another medieval cross. Whalley is close by and there would have been trade with Sawley Abbey.

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*

And now for something completely different.  I drive a few miles into Clitheroe to seek out a new statue that Sharon of Sunshine and Celandines pointed out. A black dog prowling the streets, it’s just outside Booths supermarket.

We are at the heart of Pendle Witch country and several of my posts have reflected on their troubled history. Only recently I was exploring the The Pendle Sculpture Trail  and in the past followed the Lancashire Witches Walk.  A black dog was often associated with so called witches, and this one relates to James Device. He was one of the ten accused back in 1612 and was found guilty of witchcraft and hung at Lancaster. He had named his spiritual black dog Dandy.

An evocative statue made from stainless steel by Darwen based Marjan Wouda. It was certainly getting plenty of attention from the Saturday shoppers. A Devilish looking black dog.

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BOTH SIDES OF THE RIBBLE – A MITTON ROUND.

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Its four years since I last did this walk. https://bowlandclimber.com/2020/07/07/the-ribble-between-mitton-and-clitheroe/   

I’m up early. Seth, my cat, demands his breakfast at 6am.. Out of the kitchen window the Weigela shrub is looking splendid in the morning sunshine, a good start to the day.

P1060325P1060326Too good to go back to bed. I’m motivated to get out there and do a walk. This one springs to mind. 

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I’m parked in Mitton by 9am, a record for me. This time I walk the route clockwise. Leaving the road down a tree tunnel and I’m into open meadows. The grass is still damp from the overnight dew. Vast open blue skies surround me and entice me onwards, it’s that sort of morning. The way is not clear but I follow my nose between the occasional stile. Glimpses of Kemple End vie with the view of Waddington and Easington Fells ahead of me. Territorial fishing interests keep me away from the Ribble at this stage. 

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The public footpath comes to an end on a little lane, ahead is a busy road but fortunately a concessionary path has been established to meet up with the Ribble and follow it into Clitheroe. (shown only as a black dotted line on the OS map) The signage says head for the yellow circle which unfortunately I can’t see. Heading in the right direction it becomes apparent at a gate next to the ‘bear chair’, which is looking worse for wear.P1060342P1060343P1060346

The path drops steeply down through the woods to run alongside a loop of the Ribble. I haven’t met anybody so far but spot dogwalkers on the opposite bank which I’ll be following shortly.  P1060348P1060350P1060354

Out through the damp woods to the road at Edisford, Pub and Bridge. The signage is rather strict and restrictive but at least the concessionary path exists – too many of our river banks are no go areas. P1060355P1060356P1060359

This stretch of river, on the outskirts of Clitheroe, is a popular picnic spot due to nearby parking and also an adjacent camp site. Even early today there are people in the water, which incidentally has just received DEFRA designated bathing water status – whatever that means. There are more dogs in the water than humans however.  P1060363P1060369P1060366The path now continues back along the true left bank of the river. I’ve seen Kingfishers here, but not today.  One is soon away from the razzmatazz of the picnic area only to find oneself on the busy little road to Clitheroe’s Waste Recycling centre. Past this there are only a few houses before the road ends and one is back into fields close to the river. I notice a reminder of the Covid restrictions and on the water Canada Geese are protecting their young whilst fishermen discus the best spot. 

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The river is very calm along this stretch with only one weir for measuring the flow.P1060386

The cows are back in the fields but seem very docile, too intent on chewing the new grass. Pendle Hill doesn’t look far away, synonymous with the Ribble Valley.P1060385

I’m approaching the end of the walk and the path climbs up onto a promontory above the river. This sandy cliff is home to hundreds of Sand Martins at this time of year and they fill the sky, too fast to photograph. There are lots in the photograph below.P1060394

Across the river are the Church and Hall of Great Mitton and then I arrive at the road next to the Aspinall Arms, before they open for the day and too soon for a pint.  Once a coaching inn known as the Mitton Boat. A ferry boat operated across the River Ribble before the present road bridge was built in the C19th. This was the border between Lancashire and Yorkshire before the reorganisation.P1060395P1060396

I re-cross the river on another fine stone bridge and this is where you get that long view of the River Ribble winding its way under the gaze of Pendle. A view I never tire of. P1060400

Once safely over, it is a busy road, I climb up the hill to admire the old Hall. P1060403

The Three Fishes across the road has reopened as a fine dining venue, out of my price range I fear.P1060405

And there, next to where I parked my car, is All Hallows Church, dating from the C16th. P1060470

It has an interesting interior which I had been denied before, but the church was open today so I got to explore – but I think I will leave that to another post on a rainy day, along with Dandy, the black dog of Clitheroe!

This has been an easy four and a half mile walk in perfect weather with lots of variety, which I’m sure most of you would enjoy.  

A BIT MORE OF BLEASDALE.

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Here I am in Bleasdale again, I walked around a couple of weeks ago.

Mike is  searching for a four mile walk for his, increasingly aging, walking group. I suggest this as an option. good surfaces on the whole, no stiles or steep inclines. a toilet at the start and a pub not far off for lunch. We are joined by Moira who will be leading the walk if Mike is still sailing in Scottish waters. A perfect warm Spring afternoon awaits us.

I am writing it up again as I have come across some additional interesting history of the area, courtesy of Historic Walks around Bleasdale, Dixon and Jarvinen, hidden in my bookshelves from 1988. Anyhow I never tire of this circuit in the bowl of the fells.

As usual we park at the Grade II listed Saint Eadmer’s Church, the only one named so in the country. “There was a church on this site in the C16th. In 1702 Christopher Parkinson of Hazelhurst  gave £5 10s a year for the wages of a minister. It was rebuilt in 1835. Mullioned windows from the original church were incorporated into the tower and decorated stones can be seen in the wall next to the gateP1050362 P1050368

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Nearby is Admarsh Barn, now converted into living accommodation. “Above the door is a date stone 1720 with the initials of the Robert Parkinson” mentioned above. P1050970

The short diversion to Bronze Age Bleasdale Circle is duly taken. It will look better when the replaced circle of trees have grown.P1050982

We walk on heading for the fells. Sheep and lambs are everywhere and we spend time trying to reunite a bleating lamb with its mother in another field, best to let them sort it out themselves. P1050979

Bypassing Admarsh Farm (1814) we climb slowly to Holme House farm, these are remote farmsteads. Now for an interesting historical update. The lane continues to Hazelhurst Farm passing an isolated cottage on the way. this had been derelict for years but is now refurbished and occupied. 

A hamlet known as Coolan once existed here, consisting of six cottages, the inhabitants making a living from wool combing and straw hat manufacturing. Only the old village stocks and a deserted cottage remain today (1988) as forlorn reminders of their industrial enterprise. The wool was transported as far as Burnley and Halifax and the packhorse bridge  was built along the route at Brooks. Careful inspection of the farm walls around Hazelhurst will reveal the remains of mullioned windows, dressed building stone and old doorheads, part of the old Coolan

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We are distracted by the farmers bringing in their sheep so we don’t see the stones – next time I will be on the lookout. P1050997

On through Clough Head, over the bridge built by the boys from the reformatory school, whose buildings still stand along the way. “This bridge was built by the boys of North Lancashire Reformatory School between 1858 and 1859 under the guidance of Christopher Foster, mason instructor at the school. Above the upstream arch of the bridge is a dated foundation stone and above the downstream arch is a carved tablet showing the bridges tools of construction. The school was established by W. G. Garnett, J.P. of Bleasdale Tower in 1857, to give one hundred boys useful employment, principally in agricultural labour, and their farming operations brought many areas of moorland into good cultivation

I managed to take a photo of the downstream parapet once,

We don’t go up to the Tower but follow the estate road left past the Packhorse Bridge, by beautiful beech hedges and the old school buildings, closed in 2019 when only two pupils were registered. back to our car. P1060006

What a lovely walk in the bowl of the fells and now a little more of its history told. 

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PENDLE SCULPTURES.

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If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise.

I had heard of the Pendle Sculpture Trail for years but never searched it out. Launched in 2012 to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the trial of the Pendle witches. The Pendle area is steeped in witchcraft heritage and legends.  I have previously walked the 50 mile Lancashire Witches Walk from Barrowford to Lancaster Castle, where the witches had been tried, again commemorating the 400 years. Along that walk are a series of cast iron Tercets (like a Haiku) embossed with stanzas from the walk’s poem, written by the then Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy, each one relating to one of the ten witches hung.

The Pendle Sculpture Trail has a similar theme and starts in Barley taking you around nearby Aitken Wood. We come armed with a leaflet downloaded from the Visit Pendle website. It shows 26 installations, I think we find a dozen at most. sculpture_trail_print_friendly_2019_v2.pdf (letswalkinpendle.co.uk)

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An easy stroll out of Barley on a private United Utilities lane is pleasant in the morning sunshine but there is a cold wind blowing from somewhere. Is there a storm witch behind us?  Entering the woods is an outsized rubric cube type wooden puzzle. We marvel at its intricate construction but have no idea why it is here. P1050414

Be prepared for a steep start to the forest trail, perhaps we are out of puff and so don’t spot the first few sculptures. A roe deer disappears in the trees. P1050415

We can’t miss the Magic Chair (Ben Gates) right by the path. Intricate wood carvings connected by metal fastenings. distorted and moulded. Spooky limbs and eyes but lovely boots. It was a little cold on the bum to sit in for long. P1050419P1050418

I am disappointed we missed, or had it disappeared, the Quaker Tree in view of my recent postings on George Fox and the beginnings of Quakerism.

The Witchfinder (Martyn Bednarczuk) was obvious through the trees. Based on Roger Nowell the local magistrate who investigated and prosecuted the witches. Very stern. Why do people feel the need to insert coins into wooden statues, apart from being unsightly it hastens the demise of the wood.P1050420

Neither of us can work out the significance of the Ceramic Column, (Sarah McDade) and it isn’t particularly attractive despite the exquisite smoothness of the ceramics which is appreciated by Clare who dabbles in pottery. The good thing about outdoor sculptures is there are no signs saying ‘don’t touch’.P1050422

Are we getting our eyes in, for we soon spot the next two. Reconnected 1 and 2. (Phillipe Handford) are trees that have been felled and cleverly sprung back to their stumps. I like these, very organic. Unfortunately, as it is with wood, rot is setting in.  P1050424P1050423P1050425P1050426

Nearby and rather scary is the resin Wishing Widow,  (Joe Hesketh). The artist herself, a local lass, apparently was a loner in her childhood and felt herself a witch, casting spells on her classmates. This may explain her strange sculpture.

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We miss a few more until we come across the Rings of Time, (Phillipe Hartford) strung from the trees. Maybe a nod to Star Trek  or the rings aging a tree. We don’t see the significance of the dates on the discs, but here is a full explanation. All a bit too obtuse as we are stood below them.

1324 – Barley ‘Barlegh’ appears

1507 – Pendle Forest deforested by Henry V11

1612 – Local ‘witches’ taken to Lancaster Castle

1652 – George Fox

1661 – Richard Towneley’s barometric readings on Pendle Hill

1750 – First Inghamite church in Fence

1894 – Black Moss reservoir built

1912 – Clarion House built

1918 – War memorial in Barley

1935 – Aitken Wood planted

1938 – Whitehough established

1945 – end of WW2 and losses from Barley

1987 – The Pendleway created

2012 – Sculpture trail started

2018 – second phase of the trail

One of the blank discs is for when time began and an empty ring for infinity.

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The Black Dog, (Incredible Creations) can’t be missed. More like a fierce demonic wolf than a dog. Black dogs were associated with witchcraft back in those days. We give him a replacement horn for the one that had gone missing. P1050431P1050432

Look up and you will see Three Bats In Flight, (Steve Blaycock) another animal associated with witches, is this all getting too scary for children? I hope I don’t have nightmares.  P1050435P1050434

Somehow we miss other bats allegedly hanging in the trees. The Living Wall, (Phillipe Harford) is unanimously dismissed as rubbish. P1050441

I am looking at the all encompassing greenery on the trees in the shady forest and there all of a sudden is a Dryad, (Incredible Creations) emerging from her tree. She is covered with Ivy, has acorn earrings and a butterfly in her hair. Closer examination shows it isn’t a living tree at all but part of the sculpture, the bracket fungi have me fooled. There is even a ladybird lurking around the back. Dryads or Tree Nymphs only live as long as the tree they inhabit, which could be a long time.

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Spiders, owls and a fairy are not found; we aren’t doing very well really. But there is a Unicorn, (Incredible Creations again) another mythical beast. Only the deep surrounding mud prevented Clare taking a ride of fancy.P1050444P1050445 As we leave the forest a stark metal silhouette of Chained Witches, (Peter Naylor) being marched from Pendle to Lancaster. I am impressed with the detail imparted by a few strips of metal, a reflection of the artist’s skill. P1050446P1050449P1050450P1050451

As the artist says and implies in his sculpture “These women were not actual witches but rather misunderstood individuals. Some of them were elderly, and some with various mental issues. Society and the authorities unjustly persecuted and executed them. The sculpture serves as a reminder of their plight and the importance of empathy and justice in our own time” The latter I fear sadly missing.

All along up here in these delightful woods Pendle Hill has been looking doen on us, as it seems to do in most of this part of Lancashire. P1050452

We walk back down to the Black Moss reservoirs and take a different path home through fields full of primroses and trees festooned with healthy lichen. P1050453P1050454P1050457P1050458

Across the way the rather stark Aitken Wood hides her secrets.P1050456

That witchy wind has become even colder so we are glad of a coffee in the friendly little café back at the carpark in Barley. Next up for more Pendle sculptures is Letcliffe Park in Barnoldswick.

If you do this walk, about three miles, be sure to highlight the sculptures we have missed.

***

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AT LAST. THE QUAKERS AROUND SEDBERGH.

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This post has been two weeks in the writing, not that that makes it any better.

It’s been a strange time. Monday, having my haircut with Phil, a traditional barber, we all come out with the same style, fine by me. Most of our conversation was about mutual friends who have or who are shortly to depart our presence. With a humorous twist I can’t go into details here.

After my recent soaking on Longridge Fell I decided on some indoor culture for Tuesday. There were some interesting exhibitions at Abbots Hall Gallery in Kendal. I drove up in horrendous wet conditions on the motorway, found somewhere to park, £3.50, and walked to the hall only to find it only opens Thursday to Saturday at this time of year! Why didn’t I check? I phoned Sir Hugh in Arnside hoping for some sympathy and coffee, but ironically he was in Preston shopping. Drove back down the motorway in horrendous wet conditions.

Then on the Friday drove down to Manchester to visit my longtime friend, since university days, who is suffering with Pancreatic Cancer. It was a joyous occasion as we dutifully reminisced our days in various flats in London; beer, curries, girls, music and football. He showed me around his local park, John Leigh. What a wonderful space cared for by wonderful volunteers, a blue print for community parks anywhere.  

The sun shone on Saturday, Sunday and Monday but I was ill, another humorous incident I can’t recall here. The tablets were working so I hoped to take advantage of a good forecast and  complete a walk I have had in mind for some time – The Sedbergh Quaker Trail. It was not to be, three close friends died this week and I was quite depressed. I missed the good weather. 

Preparations were underway for all my family visiting at the weekend for my birthday. I awoke in the night and found that my electricity had tripped. At 3am I was paddling about in my dressing gown trying to find the problem. I isolated it to the kitchen and disconnected everything in there, but it still tripped. Into the garage for extension cables to at least keep my freezer and fridge working. The birthday dinner must be saved., not sure how I will cook it. An early phone call, Saturday morning, to our community electricians and within an an hour Paul is prowling around the kitchen with his magic electric probe. “The problem is between these sockets and the dishwasher” Visions of the walls coming down. But as both of us lie on the floor peering into the dark of that forgotten space behind the kickboard below the units the evidence is clear – a mouse has been nibbling at the wires. Within a short time he has rewired it and all is go. I’m keeping the space open until a few mice have been humanely caught and deported.

The birthday meal was a huge success. 

All of this has nothing to do with Sedbergh and the Quakers but may explain my tardiness.  

***

Historians mark 1652 as the beginning of the Quaker movement.   In that year on Pendle Hill  George Fox, (1624-1691)  is said to have had a vision commanding him to “sound the day of the Lord” to a great gathering of people.  I have written about Fox’s Well.

In June1652, fresh from his vision on Pendle Hill, George Fox arrived in Sedbergh. He did not preach in St. Andrew’s church there but the next day he was encouraged to attend a large gathering of ‘Seekers’ and other nonconformists in and around the small chapel on Firbank Fell a few miles from Sedbergh. 

Fox wouldn’t go into the chapel to preach but instead spoke for three hours to the gathered crowd from the top of a nearby crag – this is now known as Fox’s Pulpit. Many Seekers were convinced by Fox on the Fell that day and added their weight of  missionary zeal to his and what became the Society of Friends, or ‘Quakers’ – after Fox told a Derby judge to “tremble at the word of the Lord”  By 1660, there were 50,000 followers.

Meeting houses for silent prayer and contemplation, such as Swarthmoor near Ulverston, and Brigflatts near Sedbergh, were subsequently built. Brigflatts,1675, in Cumbria, is one of the most famous Quaker meeting houses, known and loved by Friends all over the world. It is acknowledged for all the simplicity of its lime-washed stone walls and interior woodwork — panelling, columns and balustrading — as one of England’s vernacular gems. For many, the peace and tranquillity of the Meeting House at Brigflatts leave a lasting impression. (information from their website.)

People of all faiths can admire the Quakers’ respect for all humans, their tolerance and belief in peace without the need for churches, rituals, holy days, or sacraments, to practice religion. Rather religion should be something one lived and acted out every day. These ideas were radical in a period where the established church held great political power, and many early Quakers were imprisoned and oppressed for these beliefs. Quakers were conscientious objectors in both world wars. Because Quakers were barred from universities and many professions, one natural outlet for them was in business.  A large number of British businesses were founded by Quakers, including such household names as Barclays, Lloyds, Carr’s, Clarks, Cadbury, Reckitt’s, Rowntree, Fry and Terry’s. The football team In Darlington that I supported as a teenager was nicknamed The Quakers from the links within the town. 

***

This Tuesday the forecast is good, Despite a bit of faffing I am parked in Sedbergh by 10 am. Too soon to pick up a leaflet from the Tourist Information Office describing this walk. I’ll just have to do it from the map and follow my nose, I think I am pretty good at that.

I pay a visit to St. Andrew’s church. Once through the cemetery I’m on a quiet lane to Birks, a hamlet of farming cottages, a brief flirtation with the River Rawthey.  P1040883 P1040884

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Through muddy fields to visit Brigflatts Meeting House. What a beautiful peaceful place. Built in the style of a Cumbrian farm house, it has open doors for visitors. The porch with its ?original studded door leads into the main room. A place for prayer or contemplation. Alongside was another room used as a library of relevant books and a place to sit and have a brew. All very inclusive. P1040895P1040900P1040896P1040899

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I move on, suitably refreshed in mind and body. I think I miss a turn to Ingmire Hall but find myself on The Dales Way for the first time in 40 years. It is a little disappointing following the road verge for some while. Some rather complicated navigating through  The Oaks, holiday lets now, and I’m on the banks of the Lune for a short stretch to the strangely named Lincoln’s Inn Bridge. The adjacent farm had been an in  at one time.

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I leave the Dales Way until rejoining it later in the day, and find a way up into the mixed woodlands which will be resplendent with bluebells in a few weeks time. For photos of them have a look at John Bainbridge’s  post from 2022. P1040941P1040947

Emerging onto a narrow moorland lane at New Field.

Onwards and upwards I reach the highest point and there on the right is the rock or pulpit from where Fox is said to have preached way back in 1652. An isolated spot as you could find. P1040954P1040957P1040965

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The plaque affixed to the rock reads –

Here or near this rock George Fox preached to about one thousand seekers for three hours on Sunday, June 13, 1652. Great power inspired his message and the meeting proved of first importance in gathering the Society of Friends known as Quakers. Many men and women convinced of the truth on this fell and in other parts of the northern counties went forth through the land and over the seas with the living word of the Lord enduring great hardships and winning multitudes to Christ.

I sit atop of the rock eating my sandwich, nobody about to hear my words. The chapel mentioned up here fell into disrepair and has vanished but there is an abandoned graveyard with one lone standing gravestone.

I choose a nearby squelchy, but well signed, bridleway to take me back down the valley. The Howgills are spread out in front of me, but unfortunately the summits are cloud covered.P1040973P1040975

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Half way down past Goodies Farm I cross the bed of an old railway. This was from Ingleton, via Kirkby Lonsdale and Sedbergh. to join the main line at Tebay. It opened in 1861 and the rails were finally lifted in 1967, twelve years after it had closed to passengers. I had previously passed below it near Brigflatts and seen in the distance the Waterside Viaduct. P1040992

I cross the River Lune on a recently rebuilt footbridge and back onto the Dales Way but now going in the opposite direction. P1040995P1040996P1040997

A series of farms and fields take me south. The farmer at Hole House complains about the wet weather causing problems at lambing time. At Nether Bainbridge most is falling down. 

Along the track a farmer is repairing his drystone wall. I get the whole history of the area. A magic conversation. P1050014

I leave the Dales Way at Bramaskew and walk on to High Branthwaite, taking the farm lane up to Howgill Lane which I can follow all the way back to Sedbergh. The alternative was to walk along the higher fellside of Winder Hill on open access land. After nine miles I was happy to use the traffic free lane. All the time looking at the surrounding fells. The Howgills, Baugh Fell and Dentdale with time to spot a few early flowers. The area is mostly neglected by hiking community who go elsewhere to the honey pots. I’ve not met a single walker all day on my ten mile round.P1050026

Back in Sedbergh the village is buzzing with visitors mostly decked out in the latest walking garb. The, no doubt otherwise helpful, Tourist Information closed at 4pm so I never acquired that walk leaflet.

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BELOW PENDLE AGAIN.

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I’m parked up at the same spot as a couple of weeks ago in straggly RIMINGTON. There seem to be more cars about than last time, perhaps a walking group have departed some time before me. But I never meet another walker throughout this short walk. Looking again at Clitheroe Ramblers’ 25 Walks in the Ribble and Hodder Valleys I see this is the only one I have not completed in the past. It should prove ideal for a short off the cuff walk.

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C18th Bustards Farm, my starting point in the village.

It is a pleasure to be back on the better drained limestone hills after last weekend’s mud-bath. Straight forward walking out of the village, across fields on a concessionary path and then a footbridge across Ings Beck. Robins are singing from every tree, Jays are making a commotion in the woods, yellow Celandines are poking through and the sun is shining, so perhaps we have turned a corner in the seasons. I’m soon alongside Twiston Mill and on to the minor road. I resist the short diversion up to Witches Quarry, a popular limestone climbing venue.

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Twiston Mill.

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Its silted up mill pond.

Each chapter in the book is written by a different local author and the standard of accuracy has varied, todays is not the best and I have to resort to my OS mapping on the phone to find my way above Twiston. Its uphill all the way to meet the next minor road. I recognise some stretches from a reverse walk in March two years ago which helps. The Blackthorn Blossom is just starting, as it was last time I came this way. P1040666P1040665

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Looking back to the Ribble Valley.

All morning Pendle Hill has been looming above me, a little hazy at times and at the road its big end is directly above. The scenery changes here, I’ve left the green pastures and  venture onto the open moors for a stretch above Coolham Farm. This is the highest I get on Pendle’s skirts. I have to imagine Ingleborough and Pen-Y-Ghent ahead of me in the haze but can pick out Rimington far below.P1040670P1040673

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Out of nowhere a wall enclosed green lane appears heading down from Twiston Moor. I follow it, doglegging, until alongside a deep wooded clough, the upper reaches of Ings Beck. I try to take some pictures of the red buds on the Larches here but the breeze makes it difficult to focus. P1040683P1040680P1040691P1040687P1040695

Just outside the garden of Clough Head Farm is the Thomas Peel Bulcock memorial of which I knew nothing. It was erected by Thomas Bulcock in 1863 in memory of his son buried here and other relations buried in Whalley and Downham churchyards. The Bulcock family apparently had a long association with the area. P1040698P1040701

Having passed through the farmyard I find myself in one of the longest fields I’ve seen in these parts. Back to green pastures I wander down the hillside to come out onto a familiar lane. P1040704P1040705P1040710

From there I traverse the hillsides above the Ings Beck where silver rich lead was mined for many years. I wrote about this last time. Today I find the remains of the limekiln for the little limestone quarry and pass the mine managers cottage. Oh and that lamp post in the middle of nowhere.

Knowing the way I am soon back into sleepy Rimington. P1040739P1040746

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The converted Black Bull and Cosgroves ladies clothing shop. 

 A sprightly five miles.

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GRUNSAGILL.

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Grunsagill, no I hadn’t heard of it either. This map gives a clue, only just in Lancashire.Screenshot 2024-03-04 150021

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I have previously come up the Skirden Beck from Bolton-by-Bowland as far as Blue Scar, but today we were heading farther up alongside its tributaries to the isolated hamlet of Grunsagill. It turned out to be quite an epic, if one can apply that word to rural Lancashire.

Mike found the walk in 25 Walks in the Ribble and Hodder Valleys by Clitheroe Ramblers. We have followed a few of their walks in recent week deep in our countryside. I notice that the publication is 20 years old now so one expects to find changes in the routes, but our experience is more that nobody is walking some of these rural paths which are becoming overgrown with poor infrastructure. What would today be like up above Bowland-by-Bowland.

Yes, it is official it has been the wettest February in recent history so we can expect mud at the very least. In fact we miss out the first water-logged field in favour of the water-logged farm lane alongside Blue Scar, with locked gates. The farm has been unoccupied for years and last time I was here I struggled to find the PROW up from Skirden Beck into and through the farmyard, only to discover there was a concessionary path bypassing the farm altogether. Forewarned we follow it today dropping us down to the beck side. Those new galvanised gates help us find the way to the footbridge and the steep climb to Ray Head Farm, 1677. The fields are merely damp. P1040578P1040579

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Barking dogs guard the farm yard but are called off as we pass through and follow more gates and newly planted hedges up towards Lodge Farm. There are hills ahead we don’t recognise and behind ever present Pendle watches our progress. So far so good. We stop to take off a few layers as the day has warmed up, the sun is shining and there is no wind. A green and pleasant land given over to sheep farming.

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We are back to wooden stiles now and the guide warns of difficult route finding, we go astray in the wrong field above and unable to gain access to New Gill Beck. Backtracking is the only option and we find our own way down through no man’s land to another new gate and the little footbridge over the beck. Out of the blue we come across a waymark for The Ribble Valley Jubilee Trail.  Later research suggests this would be a worthwhile week’s 65 mile walk through some of the best of the Ribble Valley. P1040591P1040592P1040593

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Strangely there is an in situ caravan relic in the next field, no idea how it got there. P1040596P1040598

We make better progress on a pleasant stretch alongside the beck. P1040602P1040600

And there in front of us is the imposing Beckfoot Farmhouse with its mullioned windows, dating from1686 and partly rebuilt 1876.  The lower plaque in the porch says  EBI AN.DO 1686.   P1040604P1040607P1040606P1040605

Stately living indeed and they are making changes to the landscape hereabouts, lots, and I mean lots, of tree planting but the footpath remains clear through their estate. There has also been a lot of work done along with the environment agencies to slow down the flow of water in the beck in times of heavy rain. A work in progress no doubt. It looks like an ideal place to reintroduce Beavers? P1040609P1040610

A bit of rougher ground and a dodgy footbridge brought us to the road at  Butterfields. P1040611We now follow the quiet lanes for a mile or so, at the high point Pendle comes into view again. There are lots of cyclists, presumably from east Lancashire clubs, using this switchback route. A majority of the properties seem to be holiday lets, is this the only future for English farming? See below. P1040614

We drop into Grunsagill, a once stately house and a couple of farms. Chatting to the farmer he says it is too cold and wet up here for lambing now, best in April. In fact it turns out his sheep are down in lower fields at Longridge where we have come from.
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A brief spell by Grunsagill Beck, another tributary of Skirden Beck, and we descend into what is basically a holiday village, Lower Gill.  Farm buildings done up as self catering units and attached recreational facilities including a heated pool.  P1040619P1040620

If the day had ended here we would have been very happy with our walk.

The next three quarters of a mile however were spent sinking into the worst possible flooded fields and then even worse trying to stay afloat on what was basically a slurry lagoon. Slurry is an integral part of modern farming where animal waste together with other waste organic farm matter is converted over a period of time into fertilizer that can be reused on their lands to fertilize crops. It should be in a controlled slurry pit not dumped into farm lanes. Slurry pits are dangerous enough from the point of view of deadly gases and drowning. Out here we felt very vulnerable on the virtually impassable slurry track. God knows what damage and pollution the run off into streams is creating. It can’t all be blamed on the wet weather, this is dumped farm waste. It should be looked upon as a serious enough problem as fly tipping in the countryside and sewage disposal by the big water companies.  A world away from the high end vacation focused and sanitised ‘farming’  back at Lower Gill. I wonder if it is their land and slurry?P1040626P1040629P1040631P1040630

We needed hosing down and disinfecting after the ordeal. A walk to enjoy in the summer months.

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