Is it a myth or a fact?
Friends, who have lived in Longridge all their lives, tell me that a route out of Longridge to the Thornley farms, clustered roughly along the 150m contour line on the north side of the fell, was the one postmen of old walked. No amount of historical searching, well, Google, if I am honest, has found any specific reference to this route. Maybe someone will know.
Looking at the map, there is indeed a series of farms along that side of the fell. Was it that they were established where springs issued from the fellside? Whatever they are there, and it would have been logical for the footpostmen of bygone times to link them together on the contour rather than to follow each farm’s individual access track up and down the hillside. There are paths on the ground that link up these farms, and it is these I will follow for the first part of today’s walk. 
I start in the park at the top of Longridge. I am waylaid by dog walkers wanting to chat, and dogs wanting treats. The way is actually the old quarry railway, which came this far —a popular walk with locals using Mile Lane or heading to the cafe at Little Town Dairy.
The day promises well. 
The rails went as far as Billington’s Farm below Lord’s Delph Quarry. An old gritstone stile leads onwards into the fields.
The track has the feel of an old way. 
A cluster of properties is passed before the track, as it is, takes a gate by Old Rhodes/Martin’s Croft. A cobbled courtyard serves two or three properties.
A bit of a dog leg, and I’m walking past Sharples House, which has a hidden history.
This is from a previous post.
“There was one more encounter at Sharples House. The farmer there had previously talked of having the largest cheese press in Lancashire; I believed him. In the past, many farms in the area made their own tasty Lancashire cheese.. Today, he seemed in a good mood, so I enquired further, and he took me to see the stone, which was indeed large and must have weighed a ton. He explained that the house was from the late 17th century. A former occupant, Peter Walken (1684-1769), had been a nonconformist minister as well as a farmer. Uniquely, he kept a series of diaries, most of which have been lost, but two from 1733-34 have been found and published by a researcher from Preston museum. The present farmer was contacted and was able to see the journals, but described them as boring, though they must have given an insight into farming life in the first half of the 18th century. He also told me about a mystery from the last century: two thieves broke into the house, killing the farmer, but the daughter escaped by hiding in an adjacent barn. One wonders how much local history has been lost.”
The next property is very much a working farm. The right of way onwards is clear.. 
I’m approaching Higher Birks. I’ve always been fascinated by this structure in its wall. I still don’t know the answer. 
These are obviously mounting stones and are, in fact, grade II listed. C19th. 
Birks Brow Lane heads up to the fell, all very rural. 
But my way takes a stile and heads further into the countryside, with the Bowland Fells looking on. 
The way is well provided with bridges and stiles. 
Even the odd clapper stone, no longer used. 
C18th White Fold. 
The lady at Bradley’s Farm is happy to chat and is proud to point out Blackpool Tower visible way across the Fylde. Her view of Bowland from the doorstep is far more impressive. 
The next house and barn conversion are immaculate, shame about the gate on the footpath. I have gone astray here before, but today I notice a tiny footpath sign on the fence. So I go over the gate with difficulty; obviously, it would not open.
But this gets me on track through the plantation, where a great deal of felling has taken place in recent months. It’s a mess from the heavy vehicles, but should recover. Dale House across the fields looks as though it has been a row of cottages at one time. 
This reminds me to take a look at the old OS maps, courtesy of the National Library of Scotland. Superficially, nothing much has changed along here. The same properties existed in 1847. Now, some are still farms, but others have been gentrified, and their barns have converted. One, Sowerbutts, has disappeared.
1847
1895
Looking down into Thornley, one can see how modern farming has changed, with those massive sheds sprouting up everywhere. 
I’m now on the edge of the rough land with the fellside above, Jeffrey Hill. From up here, the views across Chipping Vale to the Fairsnape fells are stunning. 
The path weaves through Giles Farm, and the views into Bowland become even better. 
There is even a distant view of Waddington Fell, one of my hilltopsfrom the other day. You can just make out its mast. 
That’s the limit of my ‘Postie’ route, I wonder if it ever was?
Dropping down the hillside, I join an equally historic bridleway which runs through Wheatley to Thornley Hall and beyond. I remember this as a virtually impassible boggy trench, but drainage work and resurfacing a while back have given it a new lease of life—a delightful stretch.
Finding a stone wall to sit on. I stop for some lunch in the sunshine and contemplate the changing face of the countryside. There’s that farm complex I saw from above. In dairy farming, to be economical, one needs to be milking 100s of cows, which probably hardly see a blade of grass. My grandfather’s farm, on which I grew up, had no more than twenty.
There is another problem in the countryside – illegal dumping of rubbish. We have a lot more these days, and it doesn’t biodegrade. Just off the lane I’ve now reached is an old quarry, Blue Stone. I’m amazed to find it filling with waste materials. This looks like ‘organised’ dumping – I doubt its legality. One reads of unscrupulous individuals advertising rubbish clearance, only for them to subsequently illegally dispose of it. Is this happening here, or is the quarry’s owner responsible? 
What an eyesore, and I suspect toxic waste. Moving on, what’s that taste in my mouth?, I continue along the little lane… 
…I come into Wheatley, which consists of a few converted properties based around a farm. The date stone is inscribed 1774. They always used to keep a bull in the end barn. 
Out of interest, as I traverse the lower lane, I pass the start of the access tracks to all the properties I walked by higher up. 
Surprisingly, one of those new gates gives access back onto a little-used path in the fields. 
Soon, I am faced with this virtually impassable barbed wire ‘stile’. Luckily, no clothes were torn, surmounting it. The next stile was rotten wood and wobbly. Why spend all that money on a new gate without repairing subsequent stiles? 
Back at Matin’s Croft, I don’t come through the fields; instead, I use the lane up to Billingtons and then the park, wth plenty of daylight left. An interesting walk without the postbag. 
Let’s hope we may enjoy a few more autumn days like this.
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