Tag Archives: Lancashire

Catch it while you can … a Ribble Round.

Perception of our weather can sometimes belie reality. It seems as though it has rained for a month, in fact it largely has but there have been a few windows of brightness. The forecast, why are we so dependent, hinted at a dry Sunday morning but with worse to come. Catch it while you can. So a quick dash for a couple of hours walking by the River Ribble from the graceful bridge at Ribchester. This was once a favourite walk with my young family and later with my ageing father.

Perversely within a few minutes of starting it was raining but within a few more minutes there was blue sky and rainbows were appearing.. This is part of The Ribble Way. The banks of the river show the aftermath of recent flooding, debris washed up 2 or 3 meters above the normal level. Unfortunately plastic seems prominent along the ‘high’ water mark.

The path is forced away from the river edge after a mile or so. There is an anglers’ track continuing but we are denied it, although I have on previous occasions followed it. Having spent some time this year in Bavaria and Austria, where recreational paths seem to have higher prominence, I ponder what damage we could inflict on the angling community. How have the privileged classes hung on to this injustice, higher up the river things get worse where ‘public’ paths have been closed. This is supposed to be The Ribble Way. The only benefit was that as you climbed away from the river views opened up to Pendle and the distant Dinkley footbridge.

Soon I was crossing that bouncy Dinkley suspension bridge back over the turbulent Ribble, the floods last week must have been a few inches below the bridge. Previously there was a ferry at this spot until the bridge was opened in 1951. I walked back along the river bank with a chatty lady and four dogs. Before the road is Sail Wheel where the river does a dog leg and interesting currents and eddies develop below the rocks.

The road back passes grandiose gates giving access to extensive meadows which occasionally host the Royal Lancashire Show. The success annually depends upon the amount of summer rain and mud, not possibly the best site. White Elephant springs to mind……

Rain settled in again as I reached my car and probably will continue to the end of the year. At least I caught a little sunshine.

STYLES OF STILES.

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Ancient bridleway out of Grindleton.

This summit cairn is not regularly visited and it’s years since I’ve been up here. Any ideas as to its location? ……………..

We arrived here via this isolated trig point – any ideas? …………

I’d planned a 9mile walk for today as the weather forecast was good, cold and sunny. We didn’t have as heavy a snow fall as predicted and most had melted yesterday. Coffee was on at my house at 9am for the Rockman [travelling from Bolton] and Sir Hugh [travelling from Arnside]. Equidistant planning. I coaxed my car across to Grindleton on the north side of the Ribble Valley, an interesting village with many rows of cottages in hidden back streets. Having left the village we vaguely climbed up through complicated fields onto the fell. We encountered a multitude of stiles on the way, some ancient stone squeeze ones had been over ridden by modern wooden ones. Even the simple wooden ones seemed awkward, either at a funny angle and height or doubled up.

Courtesy of Conrad.

Our creaking stiff joints didn’t appreciate them and we in fact took to a quiet lane to make life easier. Soon we were at the trig point 305m Beacon Hill, a fine viewpoint of Ribblesdale. The ground all around is rather boggy and the forests hereabouts seem different shapes to our map, the result of felling and replanting. Easington Fell, 396m came next with even better views to the Three Peaks and the Bowland Fells. Time for lunch and talk turned to the virtues of Higgidy Pies, the sun came and went. Lanes led down the fell. We were lucky to watch a Sparrow Hawk pluck a luckless Starling out of a flock. Our next objective was the hidden Drakehouse valley, a deep ghyll in the woods. progress was hampered by debris from recent flooding but we enjoyed the almost secret paths down here. A pleasant stroll by the Ribble brought us back to Grindleton, completing a surprisingly varied tramp. My legs are aching tonight after all those stiles and boggy ground. You may get a true record of the day from http://conradwalks.blogspot.co.uk/

THE EASTERN SIDE OF THE RIBBLE VALLEY – the known bits.

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Sabden – Gisburn.

Just like a summer’s day from the moment I left Sabden for the moorland ascent up to the Nick of Pendle, which turned out to be easier than expected. People were parking up ready for the popular walk up the spine of the hill but I was heading straight down the otherside on a moorland path towards Pendleton. Turning my back on Pendle, views over the Ribble Valley and Clitheroe to the Bowland Fells opened up with Kemple End very prominent.

Looking back at Pendle and the incongruous ski slope.

Kemple End with the Bowland Fells behind.

Kemple End and Ribble Valley with the Bowland Fells behind.

Wymendhouse turned out to have been a former Congregational Church hidden in the hills. At the entrance to Pendleton someone had a collection of strange little ?military vehicles, no idea what they were.

Also somebody needs to remove this forgotten skip…There is a bridleway all along the side of Pendle Hill connecting old farmhouses and it is always a joy to walk, particularly today in the sunshine. As you approach Downham limestone knolls appear, underfoot the ground is different and Penyghent is seen in the background. A new little cafe/ice-cream parlour was waiting for me as I entered the hamlet, perfect for a sit down and a coffee. I didn’t dally long as I was hoping to catch an early bus and was only halfway. The upmarket Assheton Arms was busy with diners sitting outside.This used to be our watering hole after an evenings climbing on the limestone of nearby Witches Quarry. I took the familiar path out of the village and over the hill, with Dales views, to the little packhorse bridge over Swanside Beck. I camped here many years ago whilst on a walk around the Lancashire boundary and it has always been a special place to return to.

The next stretch seemed arduous with poor waymarking, blocked gates, bulls and the close proximity to some game shooting land. Had the feeling I was not wanted. Had to remind myself I was out for a walk – stop getting angry.

Which rare birds are they shooting?

Weets Hill was clear in front of me and a helpful navigational tool… I was up there on my last local two day trek way back in May, the West Craven Way.

WEST CRAVEN WAY – East Marton Bracewell Barnoldswick.

Time was getting short when I arrived onto a country lane and was able to make faster progress but this was negated by a last unmarked stretch across large fields. Maybe I stopped a little too long admiring the view over to Ingleborough and Penyghent.

Distant Ingleborough.

I came down into Gisburn just as the bus passed the lane end – I’m sure he left early. Fortunately on the corner was a cafe I had never noticed before. It turned out to be a busy cafe/delicatessen/village shop/meeting place with very friendly staff. A bowl of Butternut Squash soup with chunky bread helped my bus disappointment.

I had time to wander round the village with its many old houses, the Church was locked but I found the grave stone of Francis Duckworth, 1862 – 1941. He composed many hymn tunes including the famous ‘Rimington’ – I didn’t know that.

So a couple of excellent days walking helped by the the splendid October weather, good hospitality, new paths found and old favourites visited.

THE EASTERN SIDE OF THE RIBBLE VALLEY – the unknown bits.

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Mellor Brook – Sabden.

The LDWA web site is a good source of information on potential walks. You can search in whichever area and for whatever length, maps are displayed. Looking for a two day local trek, whilst the good weather holds out, I unearthed the 26mile ‘Walk the Eastern Side of the Ribble Valley’ from Mellor Brook to Gisburn. A booklet is available from the author Trevor Headley, though I managed without it. I’ve sent off for it as I feel there will be useful information for some unanswered questions en-route. Some of my climbing friends have gone off to Kalymnos, I declined from lack of fitness, and it was strange that I parked up almost outside one of their houses in Mellor Brook this morning.

I walked out on the original A59 through the village… … now thankfully bypassed, and climbed back up to the village of Mellor. The village loos have been sold… Further on the way I passed the Methodist Church which has been tastefully rebuilt after the old one was demolished, probably an improvement though I can’t find pictures of the original. Next up was Mellor Moor, one of Lancashire’s best kept secrets. At the top there are 360 degree views, well not today, of the whole region from the Lakes to Yorkshire and to Wales. Uniquely this modest hill, 223m, has a defunct Royal Observation Nuclear Blast and Fallout Monitoring Station from the cold war era . The monitoring post was opened in July 1959, and was decommissioned in October 1968. Many local people still believe that this was a nuclear shelter for the use of the population during times of war. A millennium viewpoint pillar has been more recently erected.

Local field paths were followed with ancient stone squeeze stiles, agricultural paths or inter- village routes. I speculated on the traffic in the 18th century or before. Going past the barking dogs of Hagg’s Hall I came upon a row of derelict and abandoned wooden homes, ?weekend retreats. They formed a nostalgic link with the 50’s and 60’s but I can find no information on them.

PS May 2016 https://hutters.uk/2016/05/03/chalets-at-haggs-hall-fields-blackburn/

Enclosed paths through the gardens of suburban Wilpshire brought me out onto the well groomed Wilpshire Golf Course, there has to be one on every long walk. I walked through in under par despite the low drizzly cloud. Open moorland had me scanning for bulls – this one looked quite friendly.

Another new area to me was the delightful path above Dean Clough reservoir with views opening up towards Pendle as the weather improved. Sitting on a bench on the outskirts of Great Harwood I ate a banana. Lanes led me to the surprisingly active Bowley Scout Camp, another of Lancashire’s hidden secrets. Acres and acres of camping and adventure activities. An ancient scout helped me navigate out of the site down to the River Calder.

I had no time for a drink at the Game Cock Inn with it’s inscription – ‘House of Massey’ – a defunct Burnley Brewery. Crossing the river at Cock bridge I was soon entering the impressive grounds of Read Hall. As I walked up the drive way I couldn’t but help notice the wrought iron railings, in my street all that remains of these are stubs in the stone walls after they were removed for the moral boosting war effort of the 40’s. I asked myself why not here?

In the lanes above Read some farmer had a sense of humour…More local [?original] humour seen on the way…

After many fields of horses I climbed up into lovely autumnal woods and a surprise stone base of a cross – unknown origin? After that it was all downhill to the secluded village of Sabden in the bosom of Pendle Hill. The Nick of Pendle, tomorrow morning’s objective was plain to see way above.I couldn’t find accommodation here so I caught a bus to Clitheroe and spent a comfortable night [I was knackered] at The Inn at the Station. Recommended.

THREE-IN-ONE – a fulfilling weekend.

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It’s that period of the year again, the leaves are turning and the evenings darkening, and it’s time for the annual autumn visit from my old mate Mel.

[ See previous posts to get an idea of what we get up to. —

Walking the Calories off??

https://bowlandclimber.com/2013/11/16/a-busy-weekend-a-long-post-of-short-walks-art-and-restaurants/ ]

His wife packs his thermals and sends him up North. This year however we are blessed with warm and calm weather so were able to make the best of his visit.

In brief we ate an Uzbek banquet [haven’t posted about my trip to Uzbekistan yet], a couple of local restaurant curries, a take away Chinese and some bar snacks.

Uzbek banquet.

Thankfully interspersed were three good and variable outdoor days’ exercise.

1. The Yorkshire Sculpture Park.

A long drive over to Wakefield and we arrived at Bretton Hall whose stately grounds act as the backdrop to the YSP, I’ve been meaning to come here for ages. Hepworth, Gormley, Goldsworthy, Moore, Miro, Caro, Frink … they are all here and many many more. A real feast for the senses. We wandered around the grounds in beautiful sunshine like two kids in a sweet shop, new discoveries round every corner.One cannot see everything in one visit and I’ll have to do a separate post on the YSP soon. We were lucky that the spectacular Cummins/Piper ‘Poppy Wave’ installation [from London] was in the park and attracting a lot of visitors.Another stroke of luck was the opening today of several video installations from Bill Viola, these powerful visualisations explore the human condition in a unique way using light and water. The Chapel and the Underground Gallery where they are staged seem to be perfect locations. This show is on until April – a reason in itself to visit the park. Try this video for an impression of Viola’s work….

2. Fairy Steps Limestone / Dallam Deer Park.

We met up with Conrad [http://conradwalks.blogspot.com/] at Milnthorpe for one of my favourite short walks on a promising morning. The tide was out as we climbed away from the Kent sand banks. I was keen to revisit a fascinating area of water-eroded limestone above the large quarry. From there we followed delightful woodland paths to the Fairy Steps – a cleft in the escarpment in which legend says if you don’t touch the sides the ‘fairy’ grants a wish, fat chance; excuse the pun. Down to the 16th -century coaching inn The Wheatsheaf in Beetham for a light bar-snack and a pint of Wainwrights. Dallied in the working 18th-century Heron Corn Mill and strolled through the manicured Dallam Tower deer park. A perfect walk in miniature.

3. Walking Preston Guild Wheel and Brockholes Reserve.

Making use of local buses we were able to walk a segment of the Guild Wheel. As we walked down the road to the Crematorium I think Mel had his doubts but we were soon into woodland above the Ribble. Next was the extensive Brockholes Reserve, created from worked out sand pits which has become a local favourite since opening four years ago. We didn’t have time for a full exploration but made use of the ‘floating’ visitor centre for a cup of coffee overlooking the lake and reed-beds. A coot was feeding directly in front of us and proved difficult to photo in half dive. I will have to return here more often this winter to appreciate the wildlife and visit the hides. Up to now we had seen few people but from now on there was a steady stream of cyclists using the path in both directions and enjoying the sunny weather. Level walking alongside the River Ribble and on into the outskirts of Preston. Avenham and Miller Parks have been much improved in recent years and are a credit to the town. Cyclists were flocking to the new pavilion for sustenance. We just kept walking and were soon into the regenerated Docklands area. The Marina cafe served good coffee and we called it a day catching a bus up to town and then one back to our starting point. I’ve ridden the 21miles of the Guild Wheel several times but now realise how easy it is to walk segments using the radial buses, you certainly see more walking.

Oh Happy Day – Hutton Roof Climbing.

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Why don’t you click to play whilst reading –

This was the summer we never had. Perfect blue skies, warm sunshine and no wind. Since my last trip to climb in the lakes I’ve been busy helping my son with his garden and pretending to do a bit of bouldering up at Craig Y Longridge, subsequently I’m knackered. But arrangements were made and we found ourselves parked up in the hamlet of Hutton Roof, remarking on the number of renovated cottages. The path up to the crags above the village seemed longer than we remembered – don’t they all. The bracken was high and the ways not clear, one of our party spent an hour or so wandering the hillside looking for the rocks. By then Rod and I, having bypassed the difficult South America Wall, had soloed a dozen or so short routes in sectors Cave and the recently cleaned Sunny Wall. The climbing here is more soloing than true bouldering, and that was the order of the day. The rock is remarkable limestone with abundant jugs and water-worn pockets just asking to be climbed, as the photos show. Alan turned up with his own video crew [father-in-law] and set too with enthusiasm [first time out for awhile]. A group of other climbers were leading some of the longer climbs on Sector Ronson Kirkby and when Barry eventually emerged from the jungle I led him up some of these. Everyone was enjoying the sunshine and the relaxed ambience – this was a magic day’s climbing and socialising. Simple pleasures.

Barry is in there somewhere.

South America Wall.

Rod – Cave area.

Alan – Ronson Kirkby.

The popular Ronson Kirkby Area.

Barry – the lost man of Borneo.

Climbin’ on fossils – Walkin’ on snow white – Trowbarrow.

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Walked into Trowbarrow just as Matus was topping out on Jean Jeanie [from Jean Genie and Jean Genet – look it up]. I happily tied in and pulled onto the steep wall knowing there would be little respite in the next 100ft. I haven’t climbed here for 15 years, on that occasion I led this route for Dor who desperately wanted to do it as possibly her last climb. I didn’t mention the polish or loose holds. She climbed it without a rest, was knackered at the top but still able to celebrate in the beer garden of The New Inn.

Then that was a hot summer’s afternoon, now today was cooler with a strong wind threatening to blow you off the wall. Bowie was “walkin’ on snow white” [a different chalk!] but for today we are climbing on fossils. The whole face is a bed of limestone encrusted with worm-like fossils which has been tilted 90 degrees to the vertical. You have to trust your feet on the protruding fossils to make good progress.

Climber midway on Jean Jeanie.

Nearing the top.

Jean Jeanie – classic track – classic route.

Despite Alan and I wanting a quick snack Matus was ready for another route, Harijan. Farther right on this main wall is another crack system, but this time its base is barred by an overhung blocky niche. [Any further right and you are under the most unstable looking roofs – climb at your peril. See photos, though nothing much has fallen down recently.] Awkward climbing leads up to the roof from where a shuffle left takes you out onto the front face and up into the crack where easier progress is made to the top, again making good use of fossils for your feet.

Some little gems on the quarry floor………

PIKES AND PITS.

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I suppose hill is the commonest term used for a summit in England. [lets for the sake of this post forget Wales and Scotland]. But there are regional varieties, in the north fells are prominent, further south there are moors, downs and plains.

Pike is another version, which in the dictionary comes from from the Old English pīc or point, So – a pointed or conical hill, a point, a spike or fish with reference to the shape of its jaw – you get the idea. [Which is the southernmost pike in England? I don’t know the answer, somebody will.]

Today I visited Rivington Pike which fits the dictionary definition perfectly. The weather however wasn’t perfect, overcast for much of the day.

Meeting The Rockman and The Teacher at Lower Rivington Barn at 10am seemed no problem until well on the road there I realised I’d forgotten the OS map, back on track I seemed to be lost in the lanes out of Chorley, how come I ended up in Morrison’s car park? It was fortuitous that I had returned home for the map as those two didn’t possess one. However we didn’t need a map to follow all the tourists up the marked tracks through the Terraced Gardens in Lever Park, constructed by local Bolton boy Lord William Lever of Port Sunlight soap fame and fortune. What a benefit to Bolton these green spaces have become. First stop was the Pigeon Tower and then onto the Rivington Pike, crowned by an 18th century hunting tower built on the site of an ancient beacon.

We were the only walkers who ventured further across the peaty wasteland to the Winter Hill, 456m, with its communication towers one at over 1000ft dwarfing the trig point. The views were only average as the sky was still overcast. The Bolton Football stadium was prominent but the Pennines and Welsh hills were there.

A decent track goes SE down Smithhills Moor to a path above a deep clough [another Northern word]. We found ourselves in Brownstones Quarry for lunchtime sandwiches. A lad bouldering on Ash Pit Slabs, including the thin Digitation, gave us entertainment. We came down Coal Pit Lane and emerged onto Colliers Row. As well as gritstone quarries this whole area is riddled with coal pits. These were worked from the 18th century on both small and medium scale. Filled in shafts are found and many spoil heaps occur, a look at satellite maps details some of these. We walked along a paved lane used for access to pits, the stones were grooved from the coal trucks of the last centuries.

A diversion over Two Lads, confusingly there are three stone cairns, possibly a Saxon burial ground. We found little paths, unmarked on the map, down deep wooded cloughs and were soon back with the crowds on the long tree lined drive in Lever Park.There was an excellent display of Foxgloves by the path.

ANGLEZARKE AMBLE.

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Not ‘The Anglezarke Amble’ which is a LDWA organised 24mile challenge walk/run but a pleasant amble around the reservoir with two old friends. This easy walk fitted in with the Plastic Bag Man’s recuperation from knee injury and the Professor was willing to come along for the chat, we go back a long way. The south end of the reservoir was a good meeting place. We all commented on the increased traffic encountered on the journey here, guess that is a fact of the times and that we should think more seriously about using public transport. The paths were dry after the recent fine weather and the day hot and mainly sunny – ideal for ambling.

The reservoir was constructed in the 1859’s to supply water to Liverpool and is part of a chain of reservoirs in the Rivington area. We passed the Tudor style Waterman’s Cottage built by Liverpool Corporation.

White Coppice is a small hamlet with some fine cottages, now highly prized. It is well known for it’s sloping cricket pitch in an idyllic situation. We sat eating our sandwiches on a bench watching the groundsman fine tune the batting area in readiness for this weekends fixture.

On the return we looked into Lester Mill Quarry once a fairly popular climbing venue, nobody appears to visit now. Some of the longer extreme graded climbs look distinctly uninviting, they were always a bit scary with dubious rock. [the midges were just as dangerous] That is why this quarry was always a poor second to the well used Anglezarke across the road. Managed to identify one climb we three often did as a warm up – Lester Rib VD on a small buttress at the entrance to the quarry. The quarry was originally worked for paving stones still being walked on in Manchester and Salford.

Lester Rib.

The Plastic Bag Man’s knee survived the 6 miles, we considered the extension around Rivington Reservoir but as the heat was so oppressive we opted for a cool pint in the nearby Bay Horse, an old haunt from post Anglezarke climbing evenings.

WEST CRAVEN WAY – Barnoldswick Thornton East Marton.

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The friendly people at The Fountain Inn produced a perfect breakfast for a walking day and I was away about 9. Rather a grey start to the day. In the market square the stallholders were setting out their goods, mainly cheap clothing I’m afraid, but there was a fruit and veg stall from where I bought a couple of bananas. Soon I was onto the canal towpath, Leeds-Liverpool, and passing The Anchor Inn. This is an old turnpike inn which later became a canal-side attraction. In its basement cellar is an amazing and unexpected stalactite display.

Anchor Inn cellar.

There were a few boats moored up but no canal traffic. After a short stretch I took to the fields towards Kelbrook Moor and was soon climbing alongside the delightful Lancashire Ghyll with the mighty Pendle Hill and the diminutive Blacko Tower in the background.

The next farm’s warning signs were all too accurate…

The Pendle Way was followed for a short distance, this is a 45mile route I walked over 2 days a few years ago only to find on my completion a note on my car from a ‘countryside warden’ worrying about my whereabouts. He had been on the point of calling out the mountain rescue. It is always a dilemma when you leave your car for a backpacking trip, putting a note on the windscreen advertising your absence has never seemed sensible. I am circumspect now where I park.

The next couple of miles were through rich pastures and not well signed, I was glad of my leaflet’s directions. The way took me towards Lothersdale, a whole new world of rough moorland fields. This was the perfect territory for Lapwings/Peewits displaying their wavering flight and plaintive call. Trying to photograph one in flight was almost impossible.

To the west Earby town lay below and Weets Hill dwarfed Barnoldswick at its foot.

Weets Hill, Barnoldswick and Earby.

Dodgson Lane followed a clough down the hill and into the farmyard of an isolated and abandoned property. This was in an idyllic situation but with no suitable track to it has so far escaped the developer’s eye. The area here is steeped in old farming traditions, the stone walls a testament to their labours and everywhere reminders of the past.

The pretty village of Thornton was a contrast to the moors. Here I joined The Pennine Way [walked 50 years ago as a teenager with a heavy pack and tent] I was now back into the lush farmland and met a farmer, the only person encountered today, checking his fences. We chatted of old times, his older than mine, shared acquaintances and places. These people are a pleasure to spend time with and full of local knowledge and worldly wisdom. A short stretch back on the Leeds – Liverpool canal and I was back in East Marton. I had time to look around St. Peters Church, with a Norman tower, which I had never visited. Apparently in the churchyard there are memorials to some of the navvies who built the canal – but I couldn’t spot any. The next disappointment was that The Cross Keys pub in the village was closed for refurbishment. At least there were no notes on my car windscreen.

I’ve enjoyed this varied walking route and stayed dry for the trip, although the sun was shy and those cold winds persist. I am surprised that no one else seems to be out on the long-distance trails.

WEST CRAVEN WAY – East Marton Bracewell Barnoldswick.

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Pendle, Longridge Fell and Bowland from Weets Hill.

The West Craven Way is described as “a dramatic walk through some of Lancashire and North Yorkshire’s most beautiful countryside” by Pendle Borough who produce a leaflet and internet download of the route. 24 miles in two halves, I decided to start at East Marton anti clockwise on the western half, spend the night in Barnoldswick [just off route] and complete the eastern section the following day.A rainy morning delayed my start from E. Marton but with an improving forecast I was soon wandering up the lane to the impressive 17th century Ingthorpe Grange. Met a man using the metal coat hanger water diviner trick trying to discover the blocked drains causing flooding to the track. Hope he was successful. The rolling countryside hereabouts apparently is mainly composed of drumlins, deposited by the last ice age, overlying the limestone – very picturesque in the sunshine. The lanes here have an antiquity about them… Passed by Marton Scar, a limestone outcrop, alas too low for any climbing. I do wonder about the environmental impact of some of the modern farming practices, all too common in the area, is this really necessary… Tracks wound through fields full of sheep and lambs to enter the old hamlet of Horton, now mainly gentrified farms and barns. Crossing the busy A59 was not easy. A lazy stream, Stock Beck… …was followed into another small hamlet, Bracewell, where the second person I met was in the garden of the old post office. He was proud of his village and pointed out the plaque on the wall stating it was originally built in 1867 for the village school master. with funds from the sale of an organ and collections in church.Opposite was the church with its Norman tower and I sheltered from the wind in its porch for a snack. A little further on I passed through what appeared to be a motor cycle scramble circuit, agricultural diversification, god knows what the noise and disturbance will be like on a race day.Narrow lanes and fields took me towards Weets Hill where I joined The Pennine Bridleway up to an isolated house on the shoulder from where I couldn’t resist the climb to the top at 397m. Here I met my third person of the day, an elderly fell runner enjoying the sunny weather. One gets a 360 degree view from here [Pendle, Longridge Fell, Bowland, Three Peaks, Barden Moor, Kelbrook Moors and Boulsworth Hill.] all a little hazy today and as the wind was ferocious I didn’t hang about.

Weets Hill with Ingleborough in the hazy distance.

Along the ridge was a house with giant heads, why? I found some lovely little paths down from the hill and into the former mill town of Barnoldswick. The terraced houses harp back to that period but now there is Rolls Royce, Silent Night, smaller industries and a remaining textile mill. Barlick, as the locals know it, was once in Yorkshire but was transferred to Lancashire in 1972. As one wanders in this area you are never sure of which county you are in.

I would like to give a big thanks to Fountain Inn, my accommodation for the night, lovely people – great ales – good supper – comfy room – spot on breakfast. http://fountaininnbarnoldswick.com/

ON LANCASHIRE MOORS – “WHEEREVER AW ROAM”

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The quotation above is from Lancashire dialect poet Edwin Waugh [1817 – 1890] he knew these hills well. before the wind-farms.

I had turned up at the Owd Betts inn, next to Ashworth Moor reservoir above Edenfield, on a bright and frosty morning to meet ‘the plastic bag man‘ and ‘the teacher‘. They are locals and had planned a walk for my enjoyment.

Lovely crunchy ice on the paths straight from the car park, the temperature barely rose above freezing all day despite the sun shining continuously. First up was a quite steep ascent of nipple like Knowl Moor, a first for me. Winter Hill to the west was floating on a cloud.

Immediately we were in a forest of mammoth wind turbines which seem to cover these hillsides and in today’s sunshine the glinting blades were hypnotic. So much so that we descended from the summit on the wrong path and had to veer south, the first of many turnings. Then suddenly we were on the lip of a previously hidden deep valley, Naden Dean with its reservoirs and opposite Rooley Moor our destination for later. More zigzagging took us down. Crossing the middle dam was exciting as the path was sheet ice, I wonder how the teacher’s backside is today.

We climbed back up the other side and met up with the old track leading up the moor to the numerous quarries on high. Views opened up of the Manchester conurbation, tower blocks in Rochdale and the slightly more rural valley towards Bacup. I vaguely remember coming up here on a backpacking trip through Lancashire years ago and walking up stone sets and stone runners worn by the quarry carts or sledges. Not to be disappointed we were soon following this ancient route and contemplating the rigours of the workforce in those days.

Christmas Cake and coffee were very welcome sat on a massive quarry block in the afternoon sunshine. Onwards into the extensive hill top quarries where mountain bikers were in evidence. There has been a lot of recent work up here to provide high standard technical riding.

We were now above our next panorama – the Rossendale Valley in the foreground, Pendle Hill middle distance and a backdrop of the Bowland hills. The moors here are like islands within the industrial waste lands, their wildness now unfortunately diminished by those turbines.

Heading back south we passed by Waugh’s Well an 1866 memorial to the aforementioned Edwin Waugh who spent time at nearby Fo Edge Farm [ demolished by NWWA in the 1970s] His poems and songs in the local Lancashire dialect earned him the title of “the Lancashire Burns”

You should listen to the Oldham Tinkers rendition on ==

Once over the last hill Knowl Moor reappeared and guided us back to the pub.

We were able to use the new tracks winding between the turbines. Stood below them we felt very small and fearful for their stability.

Therefore it came as quite a surprise to read this today — http://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/550220/Giant-wind-turbine-mysteriously-collapses-in-light-winds

Thanks A and P for a top class short day’s winter walk. Much enjoyed.

A TOWER OF VICTORIAN STRENGTH.

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Baz [soon to be 70] phones – what about a walk on Sunday?

Yes, good idea and good forecast.

Where shall we meet?

Hmm .. Abbey Village, halfway point. Will sort out a route later.

See you at 9.30am. [early for me!]

We have had a lot of rain these last few days so I looked at the map for bridleways and ancient lanes, there are plenty in this area of Lancashire.

Our arrival times at 9.30 were impeccable. So after a short section through autumn woods we found ourselves at the friendly cafe at Ryal Fold where, over coffee, we decided on a walk over Darwen Moor visiting Darwen Tower. It was good to see that area was extremely busy with hikers, dog walkers, cyclists and horse riders.

We have walked most of the paths in this area over the last 40 years or so but one can always find something different or forgotten. So we made our way up onto Darwin Hill and towards our objective of Darwen [Jubilee] Tower. The sky was clearing to blue.

Darwen Tower [the rocket!] was erected in 1898 to celebrate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee and the freeing of access to these moors. 85ft in height with an internal staircase to a viewing platform it must have been impressive for the local population of the cotton town. Local subscriptions paid for a refurbishment in the 1970s. The tower dome was blown off in 2010!!!

A replacement in stainless steel was winched into place in 2012. It was up here today that we looked out over Lancashire. Morecambe Bay, Bowland Fells, Yorkshire Hills and a birds eye view of Darwen with the India Mill Chimney prominent.

From here it was quickly downhill to Sunnyhurst Wood which reaches into the centre of Darwen and is a popular recreational area. We lunched next to the old bandstand, an octagonal structure of eight stone towers and a stone flagged roof. This is an Edwardian structure presented by a Mr. Charles Spencer Greenway in 1912. The tradition of private donation continues to this day as the metal bench, one of several, we were sitting on was a recent donation.

Out of the woods we passed through historic Tockholes and across vague field paths to emerge at Abbey Village conveniently close to the friendly Hare and Hounds! Only a short day but in lovely weather and visiting old haunts by some new paths, all of which helps to maintain ones enthusiasm for all things local.

BACK ON HOME GROUND (Should that be bog)

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After two weeks out in a hot and sunny Spain it came as a shock to find myself walking across a boggy Lancashire hillside.

North of Great Hill.

I had not been to Anglezarke for several years, which is where I had arranged to meet Alan. The large carpark has now a barrier on it which is closed at 5pm and that made me nervous, would we be back in time. At least it hadn’t become pay and display. We opted for roadside parking, as had many more, wondering about the local authority’s parking policies for what is a popular walking area. When I think about it – it’s probably water board land.

Golden Tower, Anglezarke.

A bright Autumn morning …….. as we wandered along by the reservoir joggers, dog walkers and mountain bikers all mingled happily. Walking under Stronsey Bank we reminisced over summer evenings there. Several of us would meet every Wednesday evening after work in one or other Lancashire quarry for a climbing session. Wilton, Anglezarke, Denham, Troy and Cadshaw were the most regular venues. They were all popular with climbers, less so nowadays I fear. The rock up in Stronsey was not the best but it had a pleasant outlook. Interestingly a new guidebook to Bouldering in Lancashire has just been published and smaller bits of rocks scattered about these hillsides are given prominence.

Stronsey Bank.

The paths follow the Goyte ‘canal’ which links the reservoirs here to those near Abbey village.

White Coppice.

Soon past the delightful White Coppice cricket pitch and on into Brinscal Woods.

Within this setting there are many derelict buildings. Their origin has always been a mystery to me but no longer, I’ve just found this wonderful little website dedicated to the history of the area. In detail and with good photos it delves into the origins of the ruins hereabouts. Fascinating, well done whoever you are.

http://www.white-coppice.co.uk

Confusion set in for the next hour as we tried to navigate eastwards across the fell, walls didn’t seem to be going the right way and the farm ruins were all in the ‘wrong’ place. Solomon’s Temple ( despite the name only some farm ruins) was our saviour, from there we picked a way across the surprisingly boggy ground.

Solomon’s Temple.

Crossing the A675 we disappeared into more waterlogged ground in the woods on the other side. A stream in a glen was a pleasant diversion before we started the climb up to Great Hill.

Looking back to Great Hill.

Again we passed several ruined farms in outstanding situations, maybe the hard living there would not have been outstanding!.

By the time we were back at the car tiredness was creeping on, we were glad there was no panic with a 5 o’clock parking deadline. The nights are drawing in and it was distinctly cool. We called in at an old haunt, The Bay Horse, for a pint and discussion as to how far we had actually walked today! Maybe 10 maybe 12 miles, but they were rough and boggy so we were satisfied. (More so now I’m able to read the history of the land)

PENDLE AT LAST.

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If you have been following my last few posts you will know an ascent of Pendle Hill, 557 m, has alluded me. Luckily I phoned my walking cousin the pieman this morning suggesting an outing, he was going to be in Clitheroe today, so a hasty meeting was arranged. Would you believe it but his bus broke down? We were delayed in setting off from Downham, but that wasn’t a problem as we only needed a short afternoon to climb Pendle.

Pendle from Downham.

Today I had a purpose apart from said ascent, I needed to meet up with the pieman to arrange a forthcoming trip to Le Chemin de R L Stevenson and needed to check out my new phone’s camera and ability to post from it. Trying to drag myself into this century’s technology!

Our walk up and down Pendle proved no problem.

Scout Cairn on the ascent of Pendle.

We descended off the Big End Of Pendle via a different track than usual, taking us into the little valley down past Clay Farm and back to Downham. Our arrangements proved more complicated, and I’m not sure of the phone, but if you are able to read this all must have worked. Actually, I tweaked it a bit on the laptop. The pics were just OK, but I had difficulty inserting them into the post on the phone, will get that sorted.

DEJA VU ON LONGRIDGE FELL.

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I didn’t make it to Pendle as planned. On Saturday morning, a good friend phoned to say he was in the area and fancied a short walk in the afternoon. We caught up over a light lunch and debated our destination. He had never been to the top of Longridge Fell, despite knowing the climbing crags dotted over the fell. So decision made. We parked near Cardwell House exactly as I had done yesterday and I took him on an extended version of the same walk. The weather today was perfect and the views much clearer, so I got some better shots of Chipping Vale, the Bowland Fells and the Three Peaks. The scenery, especially with the heather mentioned yesterday, was stunning and he seemed very impressed with our short tour of the fell and forest.

A clearer view of Chipping Vale.

The Trough hidden in the Bowland Fells.

Despite him being a philosopher, our talk drifted to past climbing days which we have shared, both being out of action at present. In general climbers have a vivid memory of routes done, probably because of the intensity of the moment, and a little reminiscing does no harm. I have been able to find an old photo of him climbing a problem on Bullstones which I’m emailing to him.

Mark at Bullstones. [2003 A. Bates]

Whilst up there I had time to show him Crowshaw Quarry where there has been some recent bouldering activity. It was good to be out enjoying the company and the sunny weather as tomorrow we are going to get the ‘back-end’ of Hurricane Bertha. Shame because one of my grandsons is in Prudential Ride London-Surrey 100mile event.

IN PRAISE OF HEATHER.

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“And fragrant hills of purple heather” Bonnie Auld Scotland G. Bennett.

I should have been going up Pendle this morning, but as I set off the forecast changed, possible heavy rain by midday. I must admit the sky looked black out to the west. So I quickly diverted to the parking at the west end of Longridge Fell. I traversed what I call the balcony path with views, today murky, into Chipping Vale, Morecambe Bay and the Bowland Hills. Then it was upwards through the new heather towards the trig point. Have done this walk hundreds of times but today the heather seemed to take prominence colour wise, there was an additional fragrance and lots of busy bees. The fell is transformed at the end of summer by the heather. The summit views were a little muted with the oncoming storm. Found a new path south off the summit, probably initiated by mountain bikers, judging from the built-up jumps. Over the many years that I have been coming up here, more and more of these paths have appeared amongst the trees, so there is still a sense of exploration following them.I was soon back on the main circular descent but made an arduous detour to the small metalled fenced area on the western part of the fell. Have never known what this was for, there is nothing inside it. The OS map indicates stone circles on this part of the fell, but I can never find them. http://www.megalithic.co.uk/article.php?sid=27144

I was back at the car just as the first heavy raindrop landed. Maybe Purple Pendle tomorrow?

BREAKING THE 50 MILE BARRIER.

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Despite being rather disparaging about my cycling exploits in a recent post [Irwell Valley 1] I’ve been out for shorter rides [20 – 25 miles] mainly around, rather than over, Longridge Fell. All of a sudden I feel some fitness returning, that toe is not complaining too much and I’m enjoying the weather. Why at my age do I still feel the need to get fitter? Of course, I know the answer — I want to keep active as long as possible, exploring the outdoors at home or abroad. So my fate is sealed. After my cycle through ‘The Trough’ the other day, I muttered about doing 50 miles next. Today I had in mind to cycle through the Trough again but in the reverse direction, which I reckoned would be harder.

The doorbell rang at 9am and there was Al in cycling mode. Are you going through the Trough? I enquired. No, I’ve just been, he replied! He’s always been known for his early starts, today he’d left Preston at 6am and was hoping to be working by 10. But first cups of tea and catch-ups.

No excuse now. Pedalled away up past Chipping and into the Hodder Valley, feeling rather sluggish I was dawdling along towards Whitewell in my own thoughts. Alongside came a fit-looking cyclist and rather than speed past as most do, he slowed down for a chat. He gently mocked my ancient gear changing leavers [Campag!] — any gear will do scenario. He’d already cycled from Bolton and was in for a long day. This was nothing for him as he’d just returned from cycling in the Alps including an ascent of Alpe d’hues. I felt my pace quickening to keep up. I relaxed when he turned off to Slaidburn. Uplifted by our meeting I sped along Langden valley but was soon struggling on the steeper Trough itself. OK — I walked the last few hundred feet, admiring the purple heather which has just bloomed. It is harder from this side!

I came back to life on the descent and was soon through Dolphinhome and across the A6. Here I decided to make a longer loop home, so I ended up in Cockerham where I hoped to find a café — nothing. Made a mistake of going out towards Knott End and not able to find a road going south towards St. Michaels, the lane I chose meandered me back to Cockerham! Down the road, however, I was saved by a café/ice cream parlour, The Pudding House. Most people were queuing for massive ice creams….…. but I was happier with a pot of tea and a lifesaving date slice — thank you.

Knew my way from there via Garstang and Inglewhite and arrived home rather weak legged — 52 miles! Had also climbed 2500ft, so it turned out a hillier 50 than I had intended.

IRWELL VALLEY TRAIL. 2. INTO MANCHESTER.

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Left Ramsbottom on what promised to be a warm sunny day, no shops were open yet. Soon picked up better waymarking which persisted all day – different local authorities. Leaving the river for fields I found the path weaving between Rose Bay Willow Herb and Himalayan Balsam, the latter had not reached the popping stage which will be dramatic here.

A lovely long stretch of cobbled path took me to an old cotton mill at Brooksbottoms, no doubt this is the way the workers tramped to and from their employment. Then I walked close to the East Lancs railway and passed through Summerseat station….….before dropping down to the river and a climb into fields with views back to the prominent Peel Tower above Ramsbottom.

The walking maintained a high standard alongside the Irwell through Burrs Country Park.Actually found some sculptures in the old mill area of the park.

STONE CYCLE

PICNIC TABLE

The stones came from an old bridge in Bury and the picnic table could be a ‘trap’ for tourists. Slipped out of Bury on Cycleway 6, an abandoned railway, past the Elton sailing reservoir and then along the overgrown and defunct Manchester, Bolton and Bury Canal. All this was unexpected rural walking. Got chatting to an elderly man taking his daily walk home along the canal, his wife thinks he catches the bus, he was 92 after all.The canal took me right through Radcliffe where a butty bar provided tea. Further on field paths took me to rejoin the cycle way track which led for a couple of miles through remote feeling woods. This was the site of Outwood Colliery which closed in 1931 after a fire.

Further stone statues were in evidence –

After crossing the busy M62 motorway I entered Prestwich Forest Park, under the 13 Arch Old Railway Bridge, with well signed and used cycle and walking routes. I was walking alongside the Irwell but views were restricted by the abundant vegetation, another wild area where Giant Hogweed has established itself.After all this rural walking it was a shock to walk down the first busy road of the day. I did a rather pointless large loop with the Irwell, this is probably bypassed my most. It was only when I was alongside the Irwell in Salford that I started whistling Ewan MacColl’s Dirty Old Town. The 551ft Hilton Tower acted like a beacon to guide me through streets to near where the Irwell empties into the Manchester Ship Canal. I had walked 18miles today, an exploration of Salford docks can wait till another occasion.

Trinity Bridge over the Irwell linking Salford and Manchester.

IRWELL VALLEY TRAIL. 1. WITH OR WITHOUT SCULPTURES.

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Having been out on the bike for a few days I’ve come to realise that despite the good exercise nothing really happens. You don’t get to chat to many people and your way is fairly delineated, little variation in terrain apart from up and down and few decisions to make. Dare I say ‘mechanical’. To make cycling more interesting I think you have to throw in some exploratory options on a longer trip – maybe more of that later in the year.

So I found myself on a bus, on a train and in a taxi to get to the start of The Irwell Sculpture Trail above Bacup in the rather bleak Pennine Hills south of Burnley. Nothing to mark the start of the trail, you might have expected some waymarking or a sculpture. Anyhow the infant River Irwell appeared and was to be my companion for two days. Gritty moorland tracks took me down the valley with some careful and imaginative navigating. I passed one recognisable ‘sculpture’ – The Sentinel – basically a glorified cairn but incorporating some excellent dry stone craft. Bacup was a disappointment. Lots of good back to back housing, a period decaying Bingo hall [probably an old cinema] and no cafe. Onwards on the wrong route over Huttock Top, some scruffy walking through back streets and parks at least by the Irwell, an old railway tunnel [illegal] …. …. brought me to Waterfoot. Lots of industrial heritage, not necessarily preserved, in evidence throughout the walk. The Duke of Buccleugh provided a sit down, a half pint of Moorhouse’s Pride of Pendle with an illicit sandwich. Located another old railway track, no help from any waymarking which took me past a strange cave like structure without realising it was Spaces 9.XXXV’94 – ‘exploring the depths of the human-psyche and our relation to mystic natural forces’. Have I lost you there?

Coming back to the Irwell, now more of a river despite being hemmed in with urbanisation, a man was fishing for trout. A good sign that things have been cleaned up. More importantly there was a great little cafe tucked away in Lambert’s Mill, ‘cotton was king’ don’t forget in Lancashire. Have to give a shout for the very friendly Annie Peaches Tea Room! More old mills in Rawtenstall have been converted into flats and in one innovative case a Primary Care Medical facility. The cricket team were losing to local rivals ‘Rammy’ in the competitive Lancashire League as I walked past. A bit of dalliance at the East Lancs Railway followed to view the LMS ‘Crab’ steam locomotive 13065, but why oh why do they have to put a Thomas the Tank face on it ????? Once out of town there was some lovely countryside walking towards Ramsbottom. Passed a sculpture or two, the most impressive was In the picture framing the riverside fields. Through an industrial estate, they are never far away, and into ‘Rammy’ my attention was drawn to an apiarist calmly trying to get an unwanted swarm of bees from a fence into a box. By the Irwell bridge I was fascinated by the next sculpture called The River, an 88m stainless steel path meandering through a park with inspirational quotations inscribed into it. The next installation was the Vase directly in front of my lodgings for the evening. The pub bar was full of the local alcoholics when I arrived but I must say the room was perfectly comfortable and peaceful. Anybody who knows Ramsbottom will realise the extravaganza of eating establishments at your disposal. So I enjoyed a Thai meal at The Spice Garden.

In summary a good and enjoyable 13mile walk through varied scenery, poorly way marked [didn’t see an IST sign till the last couple of miles] and not really incorporating many of the sculptures in the valley. Tomorrow’s second stage?