Tag Archives: Lancashire

ANOTHER SIDE TO STOCKS.

Thursday 12th November. 6.5 miles. Slaidburn.

My vitamin D is topped up as I’ve been in sunshine most of the day, a bonus for November and I made sure I got away a little earlier so that I would finish before dark. During the current lockdown I have imposed upon myself a maximum distance of 15 miles [30 minutes] car travel for the purpose of subsequent exercise, I hope that is reasonable particularly into the sparsely populated countryside north and east of me. Today I travelled a shade over 13 miles to Slaidburn. I had been expecting to park outside the village because it has been so popular recently but on arrival the car park was virtually empty. I’d joined some of those red dashed lines on the map to give a circuit to the east of Stocks Reservoir I hadn’t walked before.

Yesterday was Armistice Day and the memorial was appropriately decorated.

From the old bridge over Croasdale Brook I headed out towards Hammerton Hall.

An incident happened here many years ago but is still fresh in my memory. Alan and I were returning from a circuit of Stocks Reservoir and chatting away, arrived at the ford leading straight to a farm in the village. Without consulting the map we just waded through maybe a foot of water knowing we had dry gear in the car. The farmer was leaning on his gate watching us but said nothing until we were well through. A voice then boomed out “you can’t come this way, it’s not the path. It’s on the other side” Sure enough we should have stayed on the far bank down to the bridge. He showed no compassion so back we trudged through the river certain we could hear faint chuckling.

Over an even older and graceful Holmehead Bridge, past the falls on Barn Gill.

And there was Hammerton Hall on a prominent position above the River Hodder. It is a large three-gabled Elizabeth house [1600] standing on the site of a 12th century house and incorporating parts of it. Its south facade gives a fine display of mullioned windows. Once the home of the Hamerton family, a wealthy medieval family who are reputed to have been able to ride from Slaidburn to York (approx. 50 miles) on their own land!
Unfortunately, they lost most of their wealth and power when Sir Stephen de Hamerton joined Abbot Paslew of Whalley in the Pilgrimage of Grace of 1536. This was a protest against Henry VIII’s proposed dissolution of the monasteries. Sir Stephen was executed for treason in 1537.

My arrival at the next farm, Black House, coincided with a window cleaner, for some reason I found it incongruous that he would be out in such a remote spot. We exchanged pleasantries, he was from Colne and had a large rural area to cover. Farmers down country lanes are vulnerable to theft, and he has taken years to build up their confidence. He went on to talk about churches that he works on, for free, again I never really considered the cleaning of all that stained-glass. I walked on whistling George Formby’s favourite – ‘When I’m cleaning windows’

Along the elevated farm lane I had good views of Stocks Reservoir and Bowland Knotts behind although this wasn’t the purpose of the day.

At the end of the farm lane I came out onto tarmac opposite the small Dalehead Chapel. When the reservoir was constructed back in the 30s Stocks-in-Bowland village was engulfed, On the lake bed are remains of cottages, shops, an inn and a school but the church of St. James was dismantled and rebuilt here above the waters on the edge of Gisburn Forest. I sat on the church steps enjoying the sun.

It was easy to walk past my turn off into the forest, so I had to double back along the road to find it. I plunged into the woods for a short distance but then followed a farm track past a barn down to another isolated farm Brook House Green. The usual collection of huts and rubbish surrounded an interesting house with a date stone of 1761.

I always meant to put the engine back in…

I’ll gloss over the next half mile of pathless, reedy and boggy ground to arrive at Higher Stony Bank, another 17th century house. Along the road a man was exercising his large Irish Wolfhound on his own rough plantation. He, not the dog, was eager to chat about how he had bought the land and was planting it up with wild flowers and trees. “Best view in Bowland“…

Asking where I was from and where I was going he also said he had bought Pikefield Plantation, my next destination. This is a group of trees on a prominent hill in the heart of this countryside. His parents ashes were up there and as his mother had been an archaeologist he had constructed a tumulus. What will future historians make of that? I often do wonder about people who leave litter in the countryside but this had me baffled…

The way back to Slaidburn was complicated through small fields with awkward stiles and poor waymarking. I battled on. Slaidburn remained hidden in the folds of the hills until the last moments.

How much can you get from a 6-mile walk?

*****

RADHOLME and BROWSHOLME.

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Tuesday, 10th November. 6.5 miles. Browsholme.

My road to Whitewell was closed, so I hurriedly chose another route. I was on the way to complete another interesting looking walk from my bumper book of Bowland Walks by Jack Keighley. I found a different parking spot on the circuit which also meant I avoided some unnecessary climbing in and out of Whitewell. There was no reason to include Whitewell as I’m already well acquainted with it. It was nearly 12noon when I set off across the fields where there are some limestone craglets and an old limekiln. When my children were small we used to come here for a scramble about. The views of the Bowland hills are not so good today.

The first farm was Radholme Laund. I got chatting to the farmer in the yard, and he told me that at one time Matthew Brown breweries leased it and spread their brewing wastes on the land. Matthew Brown started in Preston in 1830 and moved to Blackburn in 1927. In 1984, they acquired Theakston but were eventually bought out in 1991 by Scottish and Newcastle. I well remember their Lyon Ales and many local pubs were tied to them. Radholme goes back to the Domesday Book and was originally a hunting lodge, Laund usually denotes a deer park. A large area of Bowland was set aside for deer hunting until farming took over in the C16-17th. The present house was built in the C19th and has an impressive southern facade.

Boggy fields took me down past woods which had lost most of their leaves. Longridge Fell was always in the background. The cattle are now all in their winter quarters [the best place for them did I hear you say?] at Higher Lees Farm. Then I was in and out of a stream before coming out onto the familiar road at Middle Lees. I crossed the course of the Roman Road and followed the farm lane to the cluster of houses at Lees House. I already knew the awkward path going steeply down to a hidden footbridge over Mill Brook and then steeply up the rough ground on the other side where I disturbed pheasants galore. Sheep pastures were climbed to the barking dogs of Micklehurst. I met the farmer who talked of Covid-19 and the fate of local pubs. Most of these hill farmers must live an isolated life and yet are happy, nay keen to engage in topical conversations I missed the path further on and ended up with more road walking than necessary. Until now the day had been bright but I seemed to enter low mist and drizzle and yet behind me Longridge Fell and the Ribble valley were in brightness.

I entered the drive of Browsholme Hall by its elaborate gatehouse but saw nothing of the Jacobean house still occupied by the Parker family who were the ancestral owners since 1507. Most of the land I’ve been walking on today at one time was part of their estate. I’ve added a photo of the hall courtesy of visitlancashire.com As I made my way went up the fields Pendle came into view, I was heading towards the prominent Browsholme Spire. It is said that its castellated folly was built as a landmark for shooters on the nearby rough fells. It has been adorned with satellite communication dishes in recent years no doubt earning rent from telephone companies. A case of selling one’s soul. On a good day up here the Yorkshire fells are seen but today it was just the rather murky local Bowland Hills. At the bottom of the hill in the trees a sulphur spa is marked on the map, so I searched it out but was disappointed to find only a boggy spring with the water only faintly tasting of sulphur.

Crossing over that Roman Road once more I took the lane to Crimpton with its seven hand loom upper windows. After the reformation a wooden image of Our Lady Of White Well was brought to the isolated Crimpton for safety. Hence, the farm was well known to Roman Catholics as ‘Our Lady Of The Fells’. I found a seat for a snack looking out over Birkett Fell with Mellor Knoll and the Bowland Hills behind. I knew the next stretch through the forest was muddy and awkward but I couldn’t believe my eyes, most of the trees had been cut down and a machine was clearing up. The operator was able to grab a tree trunk in the machine’s claws, whizz it through stripping the branches and then cut it to length and place in a pile. Unbelievable – lift, strip, chop all in one go.

The day was getting on with all these distractions and I wanted to search out some caves in the limestone on the way back to my car. First was Hell Hole in a fenced off copse. There seemed to be two dangerous open deep shafts and a low cave entrance all connected to the same stream system.

Further on over more barbed wire was Whitewell Cave at the base of a rocky outcrop, a small stream disappeared underground leaving a dry cave entrance that would worth a crawl with a torch. There is another pothole down the road but that will have to wait for some other time.

By now it was almost dark, there was no sunset just a little light out to the coast, but I had only a short distance to go up the road.

Another shortish walk with plenty of new interest for me. I’ve just realised I never saw another walker – a perfect lockdown walk.

*****

YET ANOTHER HURST GREEN CIRCULAR.

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Monday 9th November. 4.75 miles. Stonyhurst.

The text of this post seems to have disappeared. I can probably upload the photos…

THE CHAIGLEY SIDE OF LONGRIDGE FELL.

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Saturday 7th November. 3.5miles. Chaigley.

I’ve just returned from a short but worthwhile walk over Longridge Fell on some paths I don’t ever remember using before.

Walker Fold consists of maybe six houses but has won Lancashire Best Hamlet accolade in the past. I park up next to the village seat. I’m late today, faffing in the morning and then calling in at Craig Y Longridge on the way up the fell and chatting to an old climbing friend. There were too many people climbing today with no social distancing, so I continued on my way.

Craig Y Longridge.

Walker Fold.

I wasn’t sure whether this was their winter log pile or part of the construction of the porch…

It is misty and the sun has disappeared for the day. My path is not signed from the road but there is a stile as there are in the next few field boundaries. There is no evidence of recent use but I get through, just. The heavily forested slope of Longridge Fell are up on my right. There is well-marked diversion navigating me around Chaigley Hall Farm, in ruins the last time I passed, if only other landowners would do the same. I now join a line of stunted trees and a sunken track which has the feel of antiquity linking to the next farm. I pass a seat I used on a hot day back in August, today’s view of Pendle is totally different.

Well waymarked!

Chaigley Hall Farm.

Coming out at Kemple End I meet the crowds, cars parked everywhere and a steady stream of folk using the forest tracks. At times there are more dogs than people, what a contrast to the quiet fields on the Chaigley side. Another old climbing friend approaches me coming down the track. We catch up on news, I’m sorry to hear that he badly injured himself mountain biking in Gisburn Forest a couple of years ago and now is unable to climb or walk long distances. A sobering thought as bikers swoosh past. Some tracks they have created are death defying and I encounter one later on my steep descent of the fell.

I leave the main track and creep through the trees to that well known viewpoint overlooking the Chipping valley with the background of the Bowland Hills. It is all rather hazy today but I can pick out Walker Fold and my car way down below. The footpath is steep and slippy but nothing compared to the near vertical mountain biking courses alongside.

My steep way.

Mountain bikers’ direct way.

I spot a vivid toadstool growing in the farm at the bottom.

Driving home I hear the welcome news on the radio that Trump has been defeated, although he may mount legal challenges. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the USA will come out of its last divisive four years and move forward as a respected nation.

*****

TO CATCH A SALMON.

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Friday November 6th. 5 miles. Hodder and Ribble.

A chance conversation with JD reminded me that at this time of year the salmon are heading up river to spawn. Every year I promise myself to witness this wonder of nature and each year I forget and miss the spectacle. So today I set off to try and see what is happening on the River Hodder. We are going to be walking locally for the foreseeable future and I’m going to try and find somewhere or something new for each walk I do. Today was salmon.

I walked along the road to Hodder Place, originally a preparatory school for Stonyhurst but now accommodation flats in a great situation.

I dropped to the bathing places used by the college in the distant past. This is a delightful stretch of the Hodder with several natural rocky weirs and pools. I sat at one for half an hour without seeing a fish. I was becoming hypnotised watching the water flowing over the rocks.

Moving on I walked downstream to the water measuring weir, but again no luck.

I continued down to Lower Hodder bridge next to Cromwell’s Bridge, yet another picture.

There is no way along the river here so you are forced up the road but looking back is a wonderful vista of the river and bridges.

Then it is into soggy fields to walk through Winkley Hall grounds to meet up with the next stretch of river just before it joins the Ribble. There is an ancient tree, The Winkley Oak, along here which I always stop and stare at, yet another picture.

I knew of a fisherman’s hut and bench where I rested for a while now looking over the Hodder joining the Ribble.

The Hodder joins the Ribble.

There was a steady stream of people walking ‘The Tolkien Trail’ and coming towards me a lone jogger who turned out to be an old friend, Nige, I hadn’t seen for a while. We had a good half hour’s chat. He is a fit guy but told me of him catching the Covid-19 virus a few weeks ago and thinking he was going to die. A cautionary tale for those doubters.

Off he goes.

Next the River Calder slides in to join the Ribble opposite Hacking Hall. I came down the piece of land dividing the two in February when the rivers were in flood. It was here that the Hacking ferry originally operated and the ferryman’s house, now enlarged, is close by.

The Calder joins the Ribble.

Onwards and there was a new metal seat, dedicated to a young lady, opposite Jumble’s weir, so I sat awhile but again there were no signs of any salmon.

I left the river as it trundled down to Dinkley and found a new, to me, lane back towards my car. Hidden industrial units with multiple post boxes and more of those glamping pods which are cropping up all over the countryside with little or no obvious planning regulations. Did I mention Tolkien? Don’t get me grumpy.

Pendle Hill looks good from any angle.

I’m going to have a word with a fisherman friend of mine to ask about the best place/time to see the salmon leaping. But today certainly hasn’t been wasted.

*****

ENTWISTLE AND WAYOH RESERVOIRS.

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Wednesday November 4th. 7miles. Turton.

I’ve just enjoyed a lovely autumn walk around these reservoirs south of Darwen. But first a cautionary tale…

Sir Hugh’s plan was to meet up in Hoddleston and navigate around the moors visiting three trig points. He is on a mission to visit all the trig points on OS Landranger Map 103. Blackburn and Burnley. The day is set fair, so I’m happy to tag along. I had a few minor epics of my own getting there – no petrol at my local garage, navigation error coming off the M65 and then going straight back on again, trying to drive down cart tracks. I arrived to find Sir Hugh parked up but far from happy.

The story….

He popped out at breakfast to start his car, with his remote ‘key’, and clear the windscreens. Returning later to the car, keyless, with its engine still running he got in and drove off to eventually park on the cobbled front of The Ranken Arms in the centre of Hoddleston. Once parked and the engine stopped he realised that he didn’t have the ‘key’, it was back home on the kitchen table. He could not use his car, we discussed various options but decided to call Green Flag for rescue. Not a lot happens in Hoddleston, is there a shop? A horse and rider passed by as if in a Western B movie, we became the centre of attention to the locals. Please go to his post for a full explanation of the morning’s happenings. It was getting on for 11.30 when I waved him goodbye on the back of a low loader.

An unhappy Sir Hugh and stranded Kia.

Horsey interlude.

Centre of attraction in the village.

This isn’t going to be easy.

Half an hour later.

A much happier Sir Hugh. Cheerio.

The day was too good to miss, so I looked at my options. Darwen Tower was one, maybe a little short but in retrospect would have given good views. . The reservoirs south of Darwen looked appealing and I knew a parking spot nearby. I ate lunch in the car before setting off. A familiar track through the woods led to a quarry we used to climb in and across the stream Cadshaw Castle rocks, Fairy Battery, a regular summer’s evening climbing rendezvous, now looking as though it could do with a good clean. There was too much water for me to cross today, so I went upstream searching for a crossing and discovered lovely waterfalls and another quarried face. I retreated back to find a footbridge which gave me access to paths around the Turton and Entwistle Reservoir to the Strawbury Duck pub and onwards around Wayoh Reservoir. Sometimes by the water and often in the trees. There were some spectacular views of autumn colours across the waters. On the return leg I met a runner who suggested I should take a higher path above Entwistle Reservoir. I did and it was not as good as anticipated but eventually forest tracks had me back at my car.

Cadshaw Quarry.

Fairy Battery. Cadshaw Castle Rocks.

Entwistle Dam.

Our trig points are up there somewhere.

Pampered pooches.

Wayoh Dam, Waterworks and Edgworth.

Railway Viaduct.

A hidden cataract roaring down Entwistle dam.

High above Entwistle Reservoir.

Sir Hugh would have enjoyed this circuit. When will we be able to meet up for further rambles?

*****

WEATHER WINDOW ON A LONGRIDGE MISCELLANEA.

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Sunday November 1st. 6.5miles. Longridge.

Hurricane Zeta is chasing Storm Aiden across the British Isles this weekend. I get out this morning for a couple of hour’s exercise between the two.

My last post predicted or prayed for another lockdown, well Boris appeared on TV last night and announced one. I’m not getting into a debate about the why’s, when’s and how’s of our country’s attempt to deal with the virus. There will be plenty of time for that.

No, my walk today is probably going to be a regular one as we are told to stay home – but get exercise, no mention of distance travelled from home for said exercise, another fuzzy rule. So I walk from my doorstep. The diggers are having a Sunday rest on the latest building site coming to Longridge. Down past more new housing, then the cricket pitch and I’m in the countryside. Unusually ‘Mile Lane’ is empty of pedestrians, last lockdown it was busy most of the days with the good folk of Longridge taking their daily perambulation.

A delightful little lane along the track of the old quarry railway leads through bushes to the park. I have a painting of it on a sunny day by a local artist hanging upstairs.

The park is a magnet for dog walkers. There seems to have been an increase in canine ownership during the pandemic, unless I’m imagining it.

From Higher Road a track goes around the back of the old Quarryman’s Arms……and then through the quarries and down past the reservoirs, more new housing to the right, onto Lower Lane. Along here I spend time chatting, at a distance, to friends I haven’t seen for a while. I walk past one of my former homes, can’t believe it was so large. For the record…

Down by the church, a rather flooded Happy Alley, and round more reservoirs I come to Pinfold Lane. A pinfold was an enclosure for cattle or sheep that had strayed. The animals would be restrained in the pinfold until the owner redeemed them – normally by paying a small fine. Pinfolds were found in towns and villages from, at least, the Middle Ages onwards. I don’t know the site of this pinfold but it may have been at the end of the lane, here there is a benchmark and a substantial ancient cross base.

I stopped to put on my waterproofs as the first drops of rain were felt, but I was home before it became heavy. There was no temptation to save thousands buying a new house.

So in the coming lockdown weeks this little excursion, or variations on it, will probably be my go-to walk. Is ‘go-to’ an American expression? I don’t really like it and should have changed it to ‘regular’. I will no doubt come across other interesting Longridge titbits as time goes on.

*****

DEJA VU – LONGRIDGE IN LOCKDOWN?

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Friday October 30th. 5.5 miles. Longridge.

I’m stood at the entrance to Sainsbury’s giving my hands a good sanitising wash and wiping down the handles of my basket. Probably a half dozen other shoppers pass me going straight into the isles without even the most rudimentary hand sanitisation. The scientists say we have to go into stricter measures to combat the virus. The politicians vacillate. The public obviously can’t be bothered. Go back six months to April and I had stopped coming out to shop, home deliveries were the thing. People stepped aside to let you pass on the pavement. We clapped the NHS on a Thursday. What’s changed? The virus hasn’t, the scientific advice hasn’t – ‘way past the worst scenario’. Unfortunately the politicians have stopped daily updates, too much bad news – 274 deaths today. So the public have stopped listening.

I’m not sure I will be coming out to Sainsbury’s again, could it be classified as a superspreader?

*****

This afternoon as the sun came out I felt emboldened with my new boots to walk some sodden field paths around Longridge. I used these in the height of lockdown for relatively safe exercise as one didn’t meet anyone. Time to resort to them once more as the local virus count escalates. We have been in the third tier restrictions for a while.

Back in Spring, remember that lovely weather when we were all frightened, these paths were well-used by locals getting their daily exercise. Today I feel I’m the only one.

I splodge on through the wet fields. I’m out in the open and free and get my fill of views to all the surrounding hills.

Longridge Fell.

Parlick and Fairsnape Fells.

One of the local pheasant/partridge shoots are relaxing at the inn, Ferraris Country House. Ironically another, The Dog and Partridge, has closed under the stringent economic circumstances. Incidentally today DEFRA and the government have been dragged into some sort of legislation of Game Bird shooting. We do not know the effect of releasing millions of Pheasants and Partridges into local environments. And can you believe we are still allowing the use of lead shot? https://raptorpersecutionscotland.wordpress.com/2020/10/30/licensing-scheme-for-release-of-pheasants-red-legged-partridge-in-england-following-wild-justice-legal-challenge/

I calm down and cross the road into Little Town Dairy who have continued to keep their shop and café open during the present crisis. Notice the clever use of milky flowers on their sign. I meet up with the matriarch of the family business, and we talk about past times. Somehow I end up in her kitchen where all the family decisions are enacted.

By the time I get to Sainsbury’s the sun is setting.

Sorry but I won’t be calling in to my local pub. The country needs an efficient lockdown now.*****

NICKY NOOK ANOTHER WAY.

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Wednesday Oct 28th. 6.75 miles. Scorton.

When I phoned Sir Hugh and suggested Nicky Nook there was some hesitation in the air. Maybe he was tired from his daily walk, maybe he was tuned to Autumn Watch, maybe the forecast was dubious but most probably he had ‘done’ Nicky Nook too many times in the past. Of course, being the gentleman that he undoubtedly is, he agreed tomorrow – Scorton. 9.30am SD 503 485.

I had visited the summit back in February just before lockdown proper and again recently with the Cheshire set.

*****

9.30 AM. I was stood taking pictures of my new boots when he arrived. It was several hours later that we met many other walkers at the trig point on Nicky Nook. Sir Hugh kept reminding me that we had been walking uphill all day, a slight exaggeration.

Lanes had taken us out of Scorton with a delightful stretch of old pathway into lower Grizedale. There is a footbridge which I’ve passed many times with an inviting path up into the woods on the other side. Today that’s the way we went. Delightful. The boggy field at the top was not so good, I was glad of my new boots with high ankles. We passed quickly through the grounds of Burns farm. Suddenly we were high above the coastal plain and could pick out various landmarks, notably Blackpool Tower although you can’t see it or much more in the picture below. Good waterboard tracks led us around the two Barnacre Reservoirs up to the three wireless stations. This was moorland walking on the edge of the Bowland Hills and I think we reached a point higher than our intended summit. We were still climbing.

We came out onto the fell road at a point where in the past we had followed the River Calder up to Arbour, of rhinoceros fame, as part of the straight line route linking our houses. Walking down the road we could see Nicky Nook from its far side. The car park at Grizedale Bridge was full and lots of walkers started appearing. More squelchy fields took us past the large and untidy Fell End Farm. Some drainage pipes served as seats for lunch when we had the only drops of rain all day. Rams were sparring and butting each other to try and win the affections of a passing ewe. At last, we set foot on Nicky Nook and slowly made our way to the top. What you think, hope, is the top turns out to be a surveying column from the reservoirs’ construction. There are always people on top and today was no exception. We studied the motorway trail up through Lancashire, picking out the Forton Service station tower and further on Lancaster University. The lakes were in cloud and I forgot to look for the Isle of Man. Whoever Nicky was he had superb views.

The track down has been resurfaced and stepped awkwardly. The lane at the bottom was busy but not as chaotic as earlier in lockdown, where does everybody come from? Some day I will have to walk alongside Wyresdale lake, the hall there was apparently designed by the renowned Lancaster architect Paley. The Priory, where I always stopped for a coffee when cycling the ‘Trough’, looked closed and the Barn busy, so we were soon back at the car close to the church with the spire that you see from the motorway.

My new boots performed admirably and I’m looking for a long association.

*****

AN AFTERNOON AROUND BARNACRE.

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Monday 26th Oct. 5.5miles. Barnacre.

I was kicking myself by lunchtime today. The forecast was for rain but there was hardly any and now the sun was shining. Could easily have had a meet up with friends for a day’s walk. My new boots haven’t arrived yet, tomorrow?, so walking in trainers I need to stay on dry ground which is difficult around here at the moment. A cursory look at the map and I had inspiration for a quick afternoon’s outing on lanes around Barnacre, a rural area to the south and east of Garstang.

In less than half an hour’s drive I’m parked by another deserted looking pub, the Kenlis Arms. originally an 1856 hunting lodge,

The walk itself is on quiet lanes on the edge of the Bowland Hills passing a few farms and lots of sheep.

White sheep of the family.

My first real objective is the Church of All Saints, yet another designed by Austin and Paley of Lancaster, 1905. Set in a peaceful woodland area its red roof stands out across the fields and its tower is castle-like. A lane takes me down to cross the motorway and main railway line.

Forge Lane passes the old forge where the family are splitting logs with a hired machine, looks great fun.

The lane continues down to a ford on the swollen Wyre but fortunately there is a nearby footbridge. This whole low-lying area is part of the local flood defences when water can be diverted into the fields to reduce the flow downstream. I walk through the Millennium Green past the hydraulic weirs for controlling the flow of the Wyre. It must be quite a sight to see the floodplain filling up. I’ve been this way before on The Wyre Way.

Millennium Green with a misty Nicky Nook in the background.

A diversion into Garstang’s High Street highlights several interesting buildings.

The old grammar school, C18th.

The old Town Hall. 1760.

I walk over the twin arched bridge on the Wyre and a little later drop down to the Lancaster Canal for about a mile of quiet towpath back to my car.

Garstang Castle.

A walk snatched from nothing and dry feet at the end of it.

*****

MORE OF THE BROCK.

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I’ve spent too much time today researching some new boots on the internet. I still haven’t made a choice but I need to soon as my present pair are deteriorating rapidly after, I admit, 2 years of heavy use. It was raining when I logged in and now when I look out the sun is shining. I had a 7 mile walk in mind alongside the River Brock and over Beacon Fell, did I have time to complete it. Let’s see. I park at a strategic place giving me road walking at the end in case I run out of daylight. 3 pm start.

I’m soon going down an old track to meet up with the River Brock at a footbridge where I cross to the northern side. Up to Brock Bottoms parking this is a popular walk and I meet a few families splashing about in the river. At the bridge there are plenty of cars parked.

Once past the parking/picnic site I meet nobody for the next hour or so. Slippy boardwalks seem dangerous, the paths are merely boggy. Autumn colour is appearing everywhere. I complete my stretch along the Brock at Jack Anderton Bridge, no I don’t know who he was.

Then I’m on that wonderful lane, lined with beech hedges, on the edge of Bleasdale. Parlick peeps over the hedge like an extinct volcano.

Now some brisk road walking with the Bleasdale Fells in the background. The sun is already low in the trees as I climb up onto Beacon Fell. There is always somebody at the trig point though the car park on the other side is virtually empty. A new path, to me, takes me steeply off Beacon Fell down alongside a little clough to emerge next to the beautifully situated Salisbury House. All I have left is a mile or so of quiet roads to my car. 6pm finish.

The clocks change this weekend so don’t forget your head torch.

*****

A BIT OF COUNTRYSIDE NORTH OF BOLTON BY BOWLAND.

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I had to check the map this morning to ensure I wasn’t straying out of Lancashire on today’s walk, we are in Covid-19 Tier 3 after all. An extra mile and I would have been in Yorkshire but I don’t think anyone would have known.

Another route out of Jack Keighley’s Bowland walking guide taking me into the farmlands north of Bowland-by-Bowland. I have walked from B-by-B many times but this route promised some good riverside tracks unknown to me and probably unknown to any as I discovered.

After my recent rather long-winded posts I hope this will be more concise, it all depends on what I find.

There is a little car park in the village next to the bridge and surprisingly I was the first in this morning. I went south for a short while towards Sawley passing a sandstone cross base isolated in a field, I’m not far from Sawley Abbey. The last time I approached Bolton Peel from a different direction I had to ford the beck, so I was a little apprehensive of what I would face today after heavy rain. To my delight there was a footbridge alongside the ford, and I was soon up to the road at Bolton Peel. This is a sturdy C17th farmhouse with a preaching cross in front of it. From the original Peel family came Sir Robert Peel, he of police fame. There was nobody about this morning, so I had a sneaky peek into the adjacent barn with its cruck roof beams.

Now heading north I used a path by a lively beck into the little hamlet of Holden. There were some impressive waterfalls deep in the gorge. I have been visiting Holden Clough Nursery for years but now in younger hands it has become a thriving garden centre. Plants are still at the heart of the business, but they run a café and shop which I hoped would be open. On with my mask and through the gift shop, I got their first brew of the day. The first time I’ve been in a café for 7 months – maybe the last.

Across the road is the exquisite Broxup House.

I knew the next stretch from a previous walk. It starts through the narrowest of gaps. I was soon passing the C17th Hungril Farm and its posh barn conversion neighbour.

The next farm along was equally expensively renovated and yet round the back was the ubiquitous rubbish ‘waiting for Godot’

Muddy fields took me higher to the road at Broad Ing. Up here was expansive rolling farming lands with views to Pendle [in cloud] and Weets Hill. My heading photo depicts the scene and if you click to enlarge and look closely flocks of Lapwings or Redwings, perhaps both, can be made out above the trees. They were a common sight today.

Climbing higher I arrived in the farmyard of Wittons where a few waymarks wouldn’t have gone amiss. I blundered on into the next valley where some delicate barbed wire climbing was needed on the steep pull up to an old barn. Round the corner was an arrow pointing down a better route, one at the bottom pointing up would have been useful.

From Lower Flass my guide [admittedly 25years old] describes a permissive path alongside Monubent Beck, just follow the ‘white arrows’. A Right of Way took me down to a footbridge and it then climbed the hillside away from the beck. The permissive path was nowhere to be seen, so I just set off close to the water imagining I was on a track. A stile appeared and the odd footbridge but in between was jungle. It was obvious that nobody comes this way any more, there were certainly no white arrows. I was more concerned I might get shot if there was a pheasant shoot on. A bonus was that I glimpsed several roe deer running off through the trees. Every time I came to a stile I was emboldened to go further.

Eventually after this interesting trespassing section I came out the far end onto a road which I recognised from our cut through way to Settle and the limestone crags. By the bridge the Monubent Beck joined into Skirden Beck. This group of houses around the bridge is called Forest Becks and on foot I was able to see them better than when driving through. A lot of them have had recent facelifts.

A little further on the road I also Had a closer look at Stoop Lane house, 1703.

A familiar path above Skirden Beck led me straight back to my car at the bridge. I didn’t explore the village of B-by-B as I have covered it in a previous post.

*****

AMBLING AROUND ABBEYSTEAD.

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*****

The green area on the above map is the County of Lancashire which as you may well know has, as of this last weekend, gone into the highest Covid-19 restrictions – Tier 3. So my wanderings in the foreseeable future will be solely in the Red Rose County. There are far worse places to be. As it happens I was already planning to visit Abbeystead today for a walk plucked out of Jack Keighley’s Cicerone ‘Walks in the Forest of Bowland’ guide which seemed to have several points of interest. I’ve been following quite a few from this guide in the last weeks and have been impressed by their quality. The forecast is for cloud so a low level walk suits.

*****

I arrived at the carpark at 12noon to find it full, I’d half expected that. Fortunately a couple of early birds were just finishing their walk so I grabbed their spot. The River Wyre has two initial tributaries, The Marshaw and The Tarnbrook. I started my walk alongside the latter and soon came to the former. My curiosity had me bashing through the undergrowth to find the confluence of the two – a Dr. Livingstone experience. The two small streams meet and soon the River Wyre takes on a more majestic flow. Satisfied I go back to where I had started, it’s going to one of those days.

Marshaw Wyre bridge.

Meeting of the Waters

The Wyre flows on.

I took some photos of these large plants growing profusely along the banks – I don’t know their name? I thought the leaves were too large for Japanese Knot weed but I’m not so sure now.

My path left the Wyre Way and shot up some steep stone steps which kept on going. Eventually fields followed to come out onto the road at Hawthornthwaite with the fell road heading across to the Trough of Bowland just above me. All around were the Bowland Fells looking a bit dismal today.

The mole catcher has been working overtime.

A farm track took me past Marl House and then into open fields with no obvious track. For this walk the guide states “A somewhat complex route requiring careful reference to map and directions” Well I was soon searching for the next stile and essential footbridge across a formidable little gorge, Cam Brook. Walking up and down my GPS didn’t seem to be helping. I persisted with my search and finally found a new looking bridge across but not where shown on my map. Anyhow, I was across and climbing fairly new steps but at the top where I should have gone right to an old mill a new pheasant fencing blocked my way and shepherding me upwards. I tried an open space in a hollow but at its end a high gate. I could see no path continuing, so I decided to head for a barn shown on the map and follow the track from there. As I walked on I spotted three walkers coming the other way towards where I should have been. After pleasantries with them, I set forth or was that back, determined to find the mill ruins. After a couple of stiles I came across them in the woods, sad reminders of a bygone time. It had been a water driven cotton spinning mill until destroyed by fire in 1848. Associated workers’ cottages were disappearing nearby. That hollow I had been walking in half an hour ago was in fact the old empty mill pond.

Satisfied I returned to pass again the cheerful three sat on a log having lunch.

Last of the summer wine.

Now I knew where I was going – Little Catshaw 1763 and Catshaw Hall 1678. I passed through here before with Sir Hugh on our straight line walk from Longridge to Arnside in November 2018.

Little Catshaw.

Catshaw Hall.

The steep track led down over a sparkling side stream and to the Wyre in its heavily wooded valley. A sturdy bridge was crossed before stone steps went straight up the opposite hill to Lentworth Hall. These tracks must be centuries old linking farms and maybe going to the church where I was heading.

More stone steps.

A gate at the top of a field, suitably full of sheep, admitted me into the churchyard of Christ Church, The Shepherds’ Church. [The gate has its own story which I thought was a joke at first] The church dates back to the C14th but was rebuilt in 1733 and a spire added to its tower later. Its stained-glass windows depict Biblical shepherd scenes, these would have been better appreciated from the interior but it was locked. In the porch are rows of hooks supposedly for visiting shepherds to hang their crooks. Above the door is an old inscription – ‘O ye shepherds hear the word of the Lord‘

I found a bench to sit on for lunch, it was 2.30 after all. Next to me was a war memorial with a thought-provoking inscription perhaps aimed at the agricultural soldier.

My next objective was a Friends Meeting House and Quaker burial ground up the hill at Brook House. As well as the meeting house there had been a school and schoolmasters house in this little complex of buildings, now residential conversions. The graveyard with its simple uniform headstones was accessible and was a very calming place. Apparently the Friends Meeting House In Lancaster has use of it but there didn’t appear to be many recent burials.

I was now quite high on the northern flanks of the Wyre Valley but views were limited by the weather. More fields took me past Chapel House Farm with its barking dogs and over a rickety stile to the road at Summers House.

Then a walk across rough country in worsening light to Grizedale Bridge over the Tarnbrook Wyre. A cart track was followed back to Stoops Bridge.

Grizedale Bridge.

Stoops Bridge.

Before I got my car I had a wander into Abbeystead itself. All the C19th buildings are now part of the Duke of Westminster’s vast estate and built in an Elizabethan style. The big house is hidden from view. The hamlet is named after an Abbey founded here in the C12th by Cistercian monks from Furness. It didn’t last long and was soon abandoned.

All I needed was a bit of sunshine to bring out the Autumn colours.

For a walk visiting the reservoir and dam itself have a look here..

*****

THE CROOK OF LUNE.

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Crook of Lune, looking towards Hornby Castle. JMWTurner. 1816-18. Courtauld Inst.

*****

The Crook of Lune – no this is not a historical crime story.

It is a bend in the river, a visual station of the C19th artistic elite, a rather whimsical painting by the celebrated J M W Turner and a popular visitor destination with a nearby carpark and picnic places.

It is a special place I’ve never really been to. I’ve walked past on several longer routes using the abandoned railway but without realising the significance and beauty of the place. Today I intended to do it justice.

Continuing this morning’s walk instead of returning to the car I pick up a path going down through the woods to follow the north bank of the Lune towards Halton. There is a large weir and on this bank is a small turbine house delivering community hydroelectric power. A digital screen gives a potted history of the area and the development of this new way of harnessing the Lune’s power. At times that can be overpowering and not long after it was operative the whole site was severely flooded, fortunately with no serious damage to the turbines. Incorporated into the building is a fish ladder with an automatic counting sensor. There are no signs today of the salmon for which the Lune is famous but this would be a good place to watch them swimming up water in the next few weeks. There is a long history of mills and forges on this site and there are still signs of early weirs and wharfs.

The mills developed further in the C19th, stretching down the Lune to Halton, but were eventually demolished in the 60s. Only one remained and has been developed as a community space. https://haltonmill.org.uk/about-the-mill/industrial-history/

Alongside on the site is a section of interesting looking community housing. https://cohousing.org.uk/case-study/lancaster-cohousing/ – worth a read.

A stretch of modern housing units is walked through before I reach the old bridge taking me back across the Lune. This bridge has an unusual history…

This brings me out on the line of the track of the Lancaster – Wennington railway, closed in 1966, at the renovated Halton Station platform. I join the cyclists and walkers heading back up the Lune. It was from the undergrowth near here that Sir Hugh and I emerged one day on our straight line route having traversed the private Quernmore Estate. Today it would have been easy today to miss the footpath leaving the railway to follow the bank of the Lune. Across the way I could see where I had been not long ago. Then my riverside path took me onto new ground as I started looping the Lune. I passed under the first railway viaduct and a great stretch of river followed before I started going around the Crook itself. Simply stunning. Apparently the view Turner painted was from further up the hill behind me.

I sat for a while in the memorial park watching the river flow by. And then I walked around the loop to the road bridge. This bridge, with its decorative balustrades, was designed by Paley, 1883, who normally did churches. I didn’t cross it but continued to the easterly railway bridge, identical to the westerly, where I picked up the cycleway to cross back to the carpark.

From the bridge I get a last view back up the Lune satisfied with today’s walk completing the loop around the ‘Crook’

*****

THE LUNE AT AUGHTON.

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This was the first half of a walk from the Crook Of Lune Car park. There was so much of interest that I’m posting in two halves.

Feeling generous, I paid a pound to park all day at ‘The Crook of Lune Car Park and Picnic Site’.

I’ve a walk planned up the Lune to Aughton and then back on higher ground. I have to give Sir Hugh credit for suggesting this route and I’m doing it while he is ‘hors de combat’.

The Autumnal mist is just lifting from the valley as I set off through green fields. A couple of dog walkers have beaten me to it. The river flows gently beside me,

I pass a weir and in some places there is a rushing of water round eddy pools.

Ahead is the bridge carrying the Thirlmere Aqueduct in giant pipes on its way to Manchester, unusually for waterboard bridges it also provides a foot crossing. Next I’m in an ancient forest; oaks, beeches, birches and ash. It once provided charcoal for iron smelting but is now a nature reserve managed by the Lancashire Wildlife Trust. The path does a roller coaster through the trees before depositing me on a green beach. There is a gulch ahead which I don’t fancy jumping. Sir Hugh had already said the large loop of the Lune here was boring, so I decide to go straight across the neck of the isthmus. That works OK although I don’t see much more of the river. Ingleborough is just coming out of the mist. Across the Lune is smoke from the Claughton brick factory which I wrote about a few weeks ago. As I’m keeping fairly local my walks all seem to be linking up with each other. I’m soon at the large agricultural barn marked on the map. More interesting is the cottage being upgraded a little further on before the steep hill up into Aughton. It is steep and brings me out at a miniature village green with a few cottages. The next steep stretch brings me to the higher part of the village where I go in search of the church marked on the map with the old school house next door. A bench in the sun is perfect for lunch. Walking up the minor lanes is a joy with Ingleborough behind, distant Lakes across the bay and closer at hand across the Lune are Caton Moor wind turbines with the Bowland Hills behind. I seem to be on a cycle route judging from the number of cyclists passing by, all with a cheery wave. A local dog walker passes the time of day and explains the different pronunciations of Aughton – orton. ayton, eighton. Take your choice.

The lane steepens heading back down towards the Lune. A herd of sheep are being brought up the road by sheep dogs, as soon as their job is done they can’t wait to jump on the back of the quad bike. The large house at Halton Park was a surprise. From here I can see the C18th cotton mill at Caton, originally powered by the Lune and later steam driven, now converted for residential use. The bridges on the Lune where my car is parked show up well, the surrounding trees taking on Autumn colours. Part two to follow.

*****

A CIRCUIT OF PENDLE HILL VISITING A WELL HIDDEN WELL.

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Evening light on Pendle.

As I lazed away this morning reading I came across a comment about Fox’s well on Pendle Hill.

George Fox was born in 1624 and was in his 20s at the time of the civil wars between the Royalists and the Parliamentarians. This was also a time of questioning the established religious ideas. Fox was travelling the country preaching an alternative simpler Christian message. By the 1650s he was in Northern England and in 1652 according to his journal…

“As we travelled we came near a very great hill, called Pendle Hill, and I was moved of the Lord to go up to the top of it; which I did with difficulty, it was so very steep and high” “When I was come to the top, I saw the sea bordering upon Lancashire. From the top of this hill the Lord let me see in what places he had a great people to be gathered” “As I went down, I found a spring of water in the side of the hill, with which I refreshed myself, having eaten or drunk but little for several days before”

Hence, the name, Fox’s Well, in memory of his visit. He went on to found The Religious Society of Friends, the Quakers. Many parts of the North became Quaker strongholds and because of his vision Pendle Hill became a special place for Quakers.

*****

Well no time to lose. The sun was shining but it was already 11am, I’m slow to get going these days. The well is not marked on the OS maps but I had a grid reference SD 80494200, I must have walked past it on my last visit here. As I drove across I was planning a route in my head, park in Barley and walk the hill on its steep side, the Big End. Coming down the road that cuts across the east side of Pendle I was astonished to see a line of parked cars stretching for half a mile, negotiating past them wasn’t easy. Things were even worse in the village with the car park full to overflowing and lots of desperate drivers cruising about. So this is a Covid-19 day out for half of Lancashire. I curse myself – I shouldn’t have come to a honeypot on a Sunday.

Just as I’m thinking of going elsewhere I remember a safe and legal pull in on the road perfect for my little car. So Just after mid-day I’m walking back up the hill past all those badly parked cars. I then join the crowds along to Pendle House and then up the steep stepped path. Not really my idea of a day’s fell walking but I have an objective so it’s a matter of head down and grin and bear it.

As if by magic as soon as I cross the stile at the far end the masses disappear, they are on the way to the crowded Trig point which I can happily miss today. I pick up the track heading down the north side and before long I can hear running water. It becomes a gushing sound and there on the hillside is flowing water from a spring. Just above is the metal cover of the well and lo and behold when I lift it there is the goblet to fill with the clearest of water to quench my thirst. The best water in Lancashire it is said, I wouldn’t disagree.

Feeling pleased with myself I ponder my onward journey. I have no intention of joining the masses on the summit, so I pick up a traversing path going west. This takes me to a stone shelter on the edge of the northern escarpment where I’d planned a lunch stop. Perfect. As I’m finishing a youthful foursome from Liverpool arrive. I share the seating with them and enjoy their banter. Onwards to the Scouting Cairn and then I decide to go over Spence Moor, Pendle’s little brother. I forgot to mention that the views are outstanding today in all directions. I have a birds eye view of Clitheroe in the Ribble Valley. Over towards Longridge Fell and Bowland parapenters are circling. The Three Peaks, Skipton and East Lanc’s hills, Winter Hill and the distant Welsh mountains complete the panorama.

I’m surprised to find a recently improved track heading my direction, probably coming from The Nick of Pendle. Reluctantly I soon have to leave it to maintain height to Spence Moor. There is nobody about and on the rough pathless ground I put up grouse, snipes and skylarks.

On the way across boggy ground I come across a sheep on its back – riggwelted. Riggwelter takes its name from Yorkshire dialect with Nordic roots; “rygg” meaning back, and “velte” meaning to overturn. A sheep is said to be rigged or ‘riggwelted’ when it has rolled onto its back and is unable to get back up without assistance. You can experience the same by drinking a few pints of Black Sheep Brewery’s Riggwelter beer. Anyhow, I came to the rescue of this girl although she didn’t seem very appreciative.

There are no markers to announce my arrival at the rounded summit of Spence Moor. A little further and I pick up a soggy path going east. Down to my right are the East Lancs towns of Nelson and Colne. While over to the left is a different view of Pendle, my steep ascent path is clearly seen on the right.

I decided, perhaps wrongly, to drop steeply down to the two Ogden reservoirs, it would have been better in retrospect to have carried on high towards Newchurch.

A tarmacked lane descended to Barley Green where there has been a tasteful conversion of old Nelson Waterboard 1930 buildings to living accommodation. And then I was back into Blackpool, err no, sorry – Barley. There were no-parking signs everywhere and I can only imagine the hassle that the locals have had during this strange pandemic when the world and his dog have to go walking. Normally this is a pleasant village to wander through.

I’ll come on a weekday in the future.

*****

THE OTHER HALF OF BLEASDALE.

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I parked up rather late in the day, to be honest I had missed the sunshine but roused myself for some much-needed exercise. It was 4pm and there was rain in the air. I choose one of my local ‘wet weather walks’ knowing all the fields were supersaturated. Once more this week I have a hard surface to walk on. I was up here a few days ago with Mike doing the ‘other half’ of the ‘Bleasdale Circuit’.

I walk up the estate road from the delightful South Lodge. Ahead of me are the bleak Bleasdale Fells with Bleasdale Tower, the big house, sheltered below. I pass cottages originally associated with the C19th reformatory school established here for juvenile miscreants. There is still an old post box in the wall.

The lane skirts the big house and heads off across the fell side. There is an upper lodge on the lane.

Now there are more open views across the fields to the surrounding fells, a rainstorm is approaching Beacon Fell.

I come out onto the high road heading over to Oakenclough and Dolphinholme. The Fylde coastline at Blackpool is prominent in the incandescent light, Blackpool Tower is always something to focus on if you can spot it.

A long downhill stretch of road and I’m almost back at the car. There is a prospering trekking centre and Tootle Hall, an old farm which used to be a café in my heyday.

The last time I walked this particular variation of Bleasdale was at the beginning of Lockdown in March when I was trying to avoid the crowds, not a lot has changed! https://bowlandclimber.com/2020/03/22/social-distancing-walk-mark-iii/

I’m getting itchy feet and need a change of scenery. Think I’ll risk all and get away for a few days before we are locked in again. Tally-ho!

*****

A SUNDAY STROLL ON LONGRIDGE FELL

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I don’t need an excuse to go for a walk but I usually have an objective of interest in mind. Not today, we have had 24hours constant rainfall so everywhere is awash. The sensible thing is to keep to roads or forest tracks.

Once parked, it is still heaving with cars up here, I set off along the road stretch. Even this is flooded in parts. It is a challenge to take interesting photographs when plodding the road. The walls on my right are crenelated suggesting they are on the Stonyhurst Estate.

A building is passed with some interesting architectural features and an attractive garden.

The next house is equally attractive and grade II listed.

I ignore a signed track off to the left as I know it is an ambush, but that is another story…… and I take the forest road which zigzags back up the hill. From this end of the fell Pendle Hill is always prominent. Once in the trees the views become limited for a while.

But further on where the trees have been felled there are sightings of the Ribble Valley.

I resist the temptation to break off and visit the trig point. As I continue towards the popular end I start to meet people I know and stop to pass the time of day. Before long I’m heading down off the fell. There is water coming from everywhere but I arrive back at the car with clean and dry shoes. Mission accomplished. On my short drive home I stop to look into the flooded Chipping valley, I think I made the right choice today.

*****

BLEASDALE BIMBLE.

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Bleasdale.

Today I do a short walk on the Bleasdale Estate lanes with Mike who has all too recently lost his wife to dementia.

I’m not the best of companions as I become as upset as him.

We have done this walk many times in the past before returning home to his wife’s excellent lunches.

Today I provide the soup and support, I hope.

The butterfly below brightened the day.

A Red Admiral making the most of the October sunshine.

*****

THE HODDER FROM DUNSOP BRIDGE – NEW PATHWAYS.

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JD and I make the best of this lovely late September weather on another section of Lancashire’s loveliest river. We find paths under the Bowland Hills that neither of us have traversed.

We leave a quiet Dunsop Bridge at 10am and walk the familiar track lined with giant redwoods to Thorneyholme Hall and then head upstream through fields next to the Hodder. The grass is wet hinting that the cold nights of Autumn have arrived. A fisherman appears and instantly recognises JD from their mutual BAE Systems workplace. Pleasantries are passed, and we wish him success at catching a trout.

Across the river we spy the Sugar Loaf hill, a limestone knoll which has been quarried for the kiln below. It is said that at one time a gibbet stood on its summit. I keep meaning to go and have a closer look.

Further up the river we cross a wire suspension bridge which bounces alarmingly. When and why was it built?

The road is reached at Boarsden Farm, and we walk along it for 1/4 mile leaving the river, there is no traffic. A footpath cuts up the fields past the largely unseen Heaning Farm. Some soggy fields later we pop out onto a tarmacked road only to acutely turn back into fields leading to Gamble Hole Farm. Just above it is a large hole formed when a cave system collapsed. We are in limestone country and there are several sinkholes in the next large field. There is also a bull with his cattle, so we keep the other side of barbed wire and exit eventually into the aptly named Bull Lane. Lunch is taken in the warm sunshine and I decide to alter our route. Over the wall I’ve spotted a series of paths along the base of Burn Fell, so we backtrack a little to walk up a minor road before heading to Burn House Farm and its barking dogs. This farm is at the back of beyond with amazing views to Pen y Ghent, the Easington/Waddington fells and all the familiar Bowland fells surrounding the Trough road.

Farms under Burn Fell.

Wide views.

Our track contours the base of Burn Fell and there is a memorial to several WW2 aircraft crashes in the vicinity. I visited one on Burn Fell last year.

A delightful interlude takes us into trees and a hidden clough. Eventually we arrive at Beatrix Farm which was on my original route. This has been a stock rearing centre since the C13th and was once a busy hamlet with its own market. There are traces of grassed-over foundations of long vanished dwellings but I’m not sure we recognise any. Ahead Totridge Fell and Mellor Knoll increasingly dominate the scene. Bowland at its best. Chatting away we soon reach Wood End Farm with its diversified herds and then Dunsop Bridge. There is not enough social distancing available in the café for tea and cake.

An excellent round on paths new to us alongside the Hodder and some remoter farms of Bowland.

*****