Tag Archives: Lancashire

REVISITING THE FOOTHILLS OF PENDLE.

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Another leaflet from Walks with Taste – Visit Ribble Valley, this time setting off from the Assheton Arms in Downham.

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“This adventurous three-hour hike explores the foothills of Pendle, offering extensive views of the Ribble Valley, before diving into the wooded valleys beneath its flanks”

It promised to be a good one. In fact when I think back I did an almost identical walk in reverse a couple of years ago, but that was then.

I’m joined by JD today. I arrived at his house and then realised I hadn’t brought the said leaflet so a bit of backtracking before we get going. We are still parked up in Downham before 11am. Soon enough for a short 5 mile walk. P1060910

All of the tracks today seemed well used by ramblers with good signage in the main. A popular area, and deservedly so. The scenery is classic Ribble Valley farmland with the limestone bed rock giving excellent walking and varied flora, all under the gaze of Pendle Hill.

The first part was gently uphill passing idyllic farms on the undulating northern flanks of Pendle. P1060850

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On our way down towards Twiston we stopped for a bite in a sheltered limestone quarry below Hill Foot. We had time to observe the unique flora in these limestone undisturbed meadows. Identification of the individual species was not all that easy. P1060888

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And we had time to take in the fine view of Pendle from our perch. P1060886

Passing the silted up mill pond of Twiston and then the old mill itself. then alongside the beck to a footbridge and up to yet another farm, Springs. Here we met up with a sunken track over Wooly Hill, which I’d never visited. There is a Roman road marked on the map – were we on the course of it back to Downham. The OS are not always accurate with marking Roman Roads.

Throughout the walk we experienced a variety of stiles in the stone walls, some now neglected and bypassed by the functional wooden gate. At least none of those newfangled metal gates have arrived yet. Have a read of what outdoor writer John Bainbridge has to say.

This or that?

I have just remembered somewhere on the way we rescued, with difficulty, a sheep who had its head stuck through a wire fence. No harm was done to her or the fence, but JD suffered knee bruising when the released sheep ran straight into him and I ended up with stinking trousers where I had been kneeling in her shit.

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The afternoon ended well with a pint of Bowland beer outside The Asheton Arms as befits this series of summer walks. This has been a quick visit to our route but one worth you trying someday. P1060911

Oh, and one more picture of Pendle from the porch of St. Margaret’s Church.. P1060915

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CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE – GREAT HILL FROM ANGLESARKE.

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

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

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

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

Dropping back down the road I take the obvious way alongside Anglesarke Reservoir and onto High Bullough Reservoir. I don’t seem to recognise the way at all despite countless traverses before. P1060735 P1060738

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

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

There are some lovely trees along this stretch, I like the way those three have gown as one – Entangled Life. P1060742 P1060743 P1060739

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

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

This is then the steep bit. Up from the sign, which at first looked like one of those erected by Peak and Northern Footpath Association, but no, this is a Ramblers copy. A surprising number of people are climbing up this way. Can you see the white Mormon tower in the top centre? P1060747 P1060746 P1060751

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

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

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

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

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

I’m passed by a youth running bare chested with no spare clothing. He does however have his head phones on so has missed the sound of the wind and the skylarks. Of course he stops at the summit for a selfie and then disappears back down. Make of that what you want. Off road cyclists are looking more and more like trail motor cyclists, which is in fact what many of them realistically are. Old age grumpiness over. P1060793 P1060794

The way across the ridge is indeed easy with all those flagstones. Everywhere around me is bleak moorland enriched in parts by the nodding white cotton grass. All I have to do is find the path going west downhill 300m before the Belmont Road. Did I pass it just then, I backtrack but am not convinced. I come back and there within 5m it is. Obvious. P1060802 P1060803 P1060804

Pleasantly downhill towards more abandoned farms, Higher and Lower Hempshaw’s. Not much left standing. P1060808 P1060812 P1060815

I cross a stream onto a track and then take the wrong “grassy track by a tumbledown wall” There are tumbledown walls everywhere. All is not lost as I do a longer loop on a land rover track above the Yarrow Valley. Another ruin is passed, Simms. The scenery is changing from the bleak uplands to green fields and wooded cloughs with Rivington reservoirs in the background. One forgets how close to Bolton and Manchester we are. P1060817 P1060818

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

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

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

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A RAMBLE AROUND CLITHEROE.

21 Replies

P1060609 Another from a leaflet in the series of Walks with Taste in Ribble Valley, this time setting off from the centre of Clitheroe. I’m becoming lazy with route planning and relying on someone else’s choice, Ribble Valley BC this time. It promised “starting from Holmes Mill, wandering through the grounds of Clitheroe’s Norman Castle to the River Ribble for an easy riverside ramble”

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

My first objective is Clitheroe Castle and I navigate a series of steep and sinuous paths to reach its ramparts. Arriving at a terrace there is an ornate stone turret, strangely from the Houses of Parliament, presented to the borough by its MP (Sir William Brass) in 1937, in commemoration of the coronation of King George VI. Also known as the Pinnacle, it dates back to the mid-1800s when there was rebuilding work at the Palace of Westminster after a fire. P1060604 P1060594 P1060600

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

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

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

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

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

I made a special effort to come and see Dandy, the Black Dog last week and here I am again walking past him near Booths Supermarket. The Platform Gallery at the railway station is open so I have a look around at the art and crafts on display resisting any attempt to purchase. P1060631 P1060634 P1060635 P1060636

Time for some proper rambling. I make my way through familiar streets down to Brungerley Bridge and my reunion with the River Ribble for the third time in thee outings. A gentle stroll downstream and I see the imposing C17th Waddow Hall on the opposite bank. It has been used by girl guides for decades but now the Association in their wisdom has decided to sell it. P1060644 P1060650 P1060655

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

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I pop out onto the road between the Swimming Pool and gym and head back to the river at Edisford Bridge. I walked this section less than a week ago. The riverbank being popular with young families. Still no Kingfisher. P1060667 P1060668

Across the road, the one leading to the tip, and at last onto new ground – a field path alongside Pendleton Brook. A hazy Pendle Hill in the background. New housing is spreading out here and soon after the railway bridge I’m hemmed in. P1060671 P1060675

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Did an architect actually design this.

I recognise the buildings of Primrose Mill, an early cotton mill, which have been tastefully converted into office spaces. At Scott Bridge the culverted Mearley Brook heads through the complex before joining the for aforementioned Pendleton Brook. A fish ladder has been built along this stretch to give fish access to higher water beyond the dam of Primrose Lodge, Having spent thousands I wonder has anybody told the fish. P1060681 P1060682

Looking down onto the fish ladder.

Fish ladder in construction. ribbletrust.org.uk

Rather than walk along the road I take to the Primrose Nature Reserve which follows the valley of Mearley Brook beyond the lodge. At the end I escape up a cobbled street towards the church. P1060683 P1060692 P1060696

It’s noon when I find my way into the Holmes Mill complex. A former C19th Textile Mill, it was the last working cotton mill in Clitheroe, steam-driven until 1973. Historic England tells you all about it. In the last ten years redevelopment has resulted in a cornucopia of beer, food, ice cream, cinema, bowling alley and hotel. I head for the Beer Hall, said to have the longest bar in England, and home to Bowland Brewery. I choose their new season pale ale – Happy Hedgehog and find a quiet corner to enjoy. There are more waiters than customers. As well as the Bowland Beers the bar holds at least 40 other drafts. Next door is the engine room with a steam engine in situ. The bistro and foodhall are packed with customers. P1060698 P1060712

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

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RAMBLING ON THE RIVERBANK.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trough House.

Pullet eggs.

Shopkeepers.

I cross the heavily engineered new Dinkley Bridge, which has replaced an earlier, damaged, suspension bridge and an even earlier ferry. One of my old posts from 2015 illustrates that earlier bridge. Today the Ribble is in playful mood down the rapids, I have seen it in full spate here – a sight to behold. P1060543 P1060546 P1060551

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

Then the sheep cropped turf is a delight to walk along. A meeting with a Blackburn Muslim couple gets me talking about early days vegetable shopping in Whalley Range, Blackburn and the Chapati and Dahl cafes back in the 70’s. P1060553 P1060556

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

The river is fast flowing through the gap into Sales Wheel where it all calms down again, I’ve seen it much worse. P1060569 P1060570 P1060566 P1060568

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

Salesbury Hall.

Manor Court Offices.

Elderflower wine?

Ribchester Bridge.

The lane past the timber store, signed The Ribble Way, has been resurfaced and I’m soon back on the riverbank for awhile. This section can be difficult, flood debris, tree roots and the river itself encroaching on the path. All good fun. I push my way through Himalayan Balsam which will be more troublesome later in the year. P1060497 P1060509 P1060510 P1060511

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

I never quite know where to go after leaving the woods away from the river. Vaguely up the field, down to a stile and up the next field to an oak tree and gate. It’s up here you get those views down to the Ribble and Dinkley Bridge with Mother Pendle in the background, Onto a lane above Heyhurst, down again to a footbridge and then alongside fences. My leaflet gave decent directions. Shame that the Ribble Way is denied access to the Ribble for long stretches. A failed project. P1060527 P1060525

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I walk through a sea of buttercups. The cows are back in the fields, time for me to start heading to the fells. At least this lot are lying down – said to be a sign of rain in country folklore. (Cows are more likely to lay down when they’re chewing their cud rather than when expecting a storm.) P1060532 P1060529

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

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

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

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

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ALL HALLOWS CHURCH, MITTON, AND A BLACK DOG.

11 Replies

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

The church dates from the late C13th.

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

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

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The first Sir Richard died in 1594 shortly after the chapel was built. and is buried with his wife Maud, with voluminous petticoats. The detail on the carving is exquisite. It was created in the Royley family workshop in Burton-upon-Trent. P1060432 P1060434

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Sir Richard’s son died in 1629 and he is remembered by a large plaque on the north wall, depicting Sir Richard junior and his wife Catherine, kneeling in prayer, plus smaller images of their children. Two of the children are pictured in a bed, suggesting that they died in infancy. P1060425 P1060423

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

Richard Shireburn, d.1668.

Sir Richard d.1689 and wife Isabel.

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Richard Shireburn d. 1690.

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

On the floor is a badly eroded figure of a knight in armour, the notice tells the story. P1060435 P1060436 .

What a unique chapel telling the story of the Shireburn family whose legacy lives on in Stonyhurst School. Here it is seen from outside with the date stone and Shireburn family coat of arms above the door. P1060481 P1060476 P1060478

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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BOTH SIDES OF THE RIBBLE – A MITTON ROUND.

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

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

P1060325 P1060326 Too good to go back to bed. I’m motivated to get out there and do a walk. This one springs to mind.

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

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The public footpath comes to an end on a little lane, ahead is a busy road but fortunately a concessionary path has been established to meet up with the Ribble and follow it into Clitheroe. (shown only as a black dotted line on the OS map) The signage says head for the yellow circle which unfortunately I can’t see. Heading in the right direction it becomes apparent at a gate next to the ‘bear chair’, which is looking worse for wear. P1060342 P1060343 P1060346

The path drops steeply down through the woods to run alongside a loop of the Ribble. I haven’t met anybody so far but spot dogwalkers on the opposite bank which I’ll be following shortly. P1060348 P1060350 P1060354

Out through the damp woods to the road at Edisford, Pub and Bridge. The signage is rather strict and restrictive but at least the concessionary path exists – too many of our river banks are no go areas. P1060355 P1060356 P1060359

This stretch of river, on the outskirts of Clitheroe, is a popular picnic spot due to nearby parking and also an adjacent camp site. Even early today there are people in the water, which incidentally has just received DEFRA designated bathing water status – whatever that means. There are more dogs in the water than humans however. P1060363 P1060369 P1060366 The path now continues back along the true left bank of the river. I’ve seen Kingfishers here, but not today. One is soon away from the razzmatazz of the picnic area only to find oneself on the busy little road to Clitheroe’s Waste Recycling centre. Past this there are only a few houses before the road ends and one is back into fields close to the river. I notice a reminder of the Covid restrictions and on the water Canada Geese are protecting their young whilst fishermen discus the best spot.

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

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

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

Across the river are the Church and Hall of Great Mitton and then I arrive at the road next to the Aspinall Arms, before they open for the day and too soon for a pint. Once a coaching inn known as the Mitton Boat. A ferry boat operated across the River Ribble before the present road bridge was built in the C19th. This was the border between Lancashire and Yorkshire before the reorganisation. P1060395 P1060396

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

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

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

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

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

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

RETURN TO THE FELL.

9 Replies

Bowland fells and Chipping Vale.

I haven’t been up here for two months. I was rather depressed after my last visit when I discovered one of my favourite trees had been uprooted by recent drainage operations. The lovely leaning Scots Pine which I had Christened ‘Grim up North’. I have a selection of trees that I admire in the area but this one I probably had visited most.

Today after some drier weather I set foot once more on Longridge Fell from the Jeffrey Hill car park. Please note the obvious signage on the gates. P1060290 P1060313

Between March and July on open fells the ground nesting birds are in residence, Lapwings, Curlews, Skylarks and Pipits that I know of. There is an obligation on dogwalkers to keep their dogs on the lead to avoid disturbance to the nesting birds. Hence the obvious signage. The first two people I meet coming off the fell have their dogs running loose. I pass the time of day with them and politely mention about dogs being on a lead. Both reply that they hadn’t seen any signs to indicate this, that advertising line ‘you should have gone to Specsavers’ crosses my mind. Perhaps next time they will think again.

All the boggy areas from Spring have at last dried out and it is a joy to walk on the springy turf to the summit trig point. P1060291

White patches of Cotton Grass stand out. In the past it has indeed been used to stuff pillow cases and as a wound dressing.

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I pause at the summit to chat with a cyclist who has come up from Clitheroe via Kemple End. A steep ascent mad easier by the electric motor on his bike. I head into the plantations for an alternative way back. A small area that was replanted a few years ago has greened up nicely. The tree blocking the way is still down and a devious route around and under it has been established. This is in fact a Public Right of Way but Tilhill Forestry whom, I think, manage the land are slow to clear fallen trees. On I go down that tree tunnel. P1060297

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Now I am walking down alongside the wall towards my fallen tree. I’m pleased to see it still looks alive despite loosing more than half its roots. A sad sight but let’s hope it survives and in the coming decades puts on growth towards the sky. P1060304 P1060305 P1060310

Coming off the fell I meet up with a friend just finished exercising his well behaved dogs, I can’t resist a photo. P1060311

A NATURE TRAIL IN THE MAKING?

12 Replies

When I was up in Bleasdale the other week I noticed signs to a ‘Nature Trail’ with an attached map.

Time to investigate.

A sunny Saturday afternoon was perfect for a gentle stroll. I park at the church as usual and there is the first finger post directing me alongside Church Wood, recently replanted. The woods are alive with birdsong – a good start. Chiffchaff, Robin, Bullfinch, Willow Warbler, Chaffinch, Wren, Redpoll and Song Thrush. I only see half of them.

What a backdrop of Fairsnape and Parlick.

Not many people have come this way as yet, there is no path through the reedy fields. Occasional wooden posts sign the way and new gates have been installed at important junctions. I take a wrong turning or two, not always sure which side of a fence I should be on.

The occasional Pheasant struts across, the call of the Curlews is in the background and Lapwings put on a display above me. The floral display is only average – Lady’s Smock here and there, a confusion of sedge, reeds and grasses. Buttercups, Speedwells, Stitchwort and Mouse Ear.

At the seat I aimed across rough ground to reach the edge of Bluebell Wood with Beacon Fell straight ahead. The Bluebells were past their best.

There are some owl boxes on the estate but then along the edge of the wood, spanning the ditch is one of those awful small mammal traps aimed at killing stoats or weasels, possible threats to breeding pheasants. In my book you can’t have a nature trail if you are killing the nature on it, totally incongruous. And what will the owls feed on if the small mammals are trapped? I don’t like it when shooting estates pay lip service to conservation.The trail map even features a stoat as one of the animals to be seen.
Moving on. I cross the access road to Lower Fairsnape Farm and take a short diversion to visit a bird hide marked on the map. It is a shed with a few observation slots looking out onto the fields. Information is provided about the area. The farm is working alonside the RSPB to improve the environment for wading and ground nesting birds.

View from the hide.

I backtrack to regain the trail which follows close by a branch of the infant river Brock. A heron flies away as I approach. I follow an old enclosure wall away from the stream.

Is that a hare pricking its ears up in the field ahead? It is and then there are two.

That has almost made up for the mammal trap. I walk back up the lane past the school in a better frame of mind.

This is a trail in the making, if needs more footfall and less animal persecution. But what a backdrop with the Bleasdale Fells.

***

NETTLES FOR TEA.

11 Replies

Last week I was dining on wild garlic and poaches eggs, a delicacy. A reader recommended wild garlic and mushroom risotto so off I went to collect more in the woods. I had to be content with bought mushrooms, there aren’t many wild edible ones at this time of the year as far as I know. A successful recipe and I had garlic leaves to spare, so froze a bag of them.

Wild Garlic and Mushroom Risotto.

This week I turned my attention to the garden which has become a little, maybe a lot, neglected in the last two years. I didn’t have to worry about the lawn as it is ‘No mow May’. But the borders needed weeding, I donned my thick gloves and started with the nettles and brambles. Before long I had a barrow load of nettles. I set to and stripped off the youngest, freshest leaves for cooking. I have often made nettle soup before and checking a few recipes found one with wild garlic – how convenient. I washed the nettle leaves and defrosted the frozen garlic. Cooked an onion and added the all the leaves whilst boiling a few potatoes. The latter were added, along with seasonings and left to simmer. I still use a pressure cooker for soups. Add a little cream and I had the most satisfying tea. I use ‘tea’ as in the Northern style – a substantial meal early evening. ‘Dinner’ is at lunchtime and ‘Supper’ a snack before bed. ‘Lunch’ doesn’t figure.

From garden to table. It must be full of goodness.

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Whilst in the garden I managed to capture a shot of an Orange Tip enjoying my geraniums. These early butterflies are everywhere at the moment but had eluded my lens the other day. P1060099

COWLEY BROOK UPDATE.

10 Replies

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I mentioned earlier that I was going to follow the seasons up here on the fell by a regular photographic ‘diary’ of the changing vegetation. Wouldn’t it be great to set up a time lapse camera.

I was up there today and just wanted to share the fragrant blossoms on the Mountain Ash, (Sorbus aucuparia)

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Hasn’t the plantation greened up nicely?

GLASSES IN GLASSON.

10 Replies

Glasson across the mud flats.

I manage to make my routine cycle ride to Glasson a little different this time.

I find myself driving into Lancaster on a hot afternoon. Thankfully it’s a Sunday. I normally avoid Lancaster City’s roads wherever possible, they are a nightmare of one way streets and I’m always in the wrong lane at the next junction. I’ve come from Halton on the north side of the Lune and I need to get to Glasson Dock on the south side of the Lune. Any mistake in Lancaster will send me all the way around again, possibly to be repeated ad nauseam. My worst nightmare. There are too many choices and everyone else knows where they are going. Today I can’t read the signs clearly, there is a reason for this that will become obvious shortly.

I don’t have time to admire the magnificent city centre Victorian architecture as I queue at traffic lights. A bit of lane drifting and I think I’m on the right way near the hospital, but no I’m heading for Aldcliffe which I had cycled through earlier today. At least I’m south of the Lune. I stop to look at my map, I don’t have satnav, and yes a left turn will take me to the A588, the main road to Glasson.

The day had started with a drive up the motorway to park up as usual at Halton ‘station’. It was very busy and I just about squeezed in on a verge. I unloaded my bike and realised I had forgotten my helmet. Even though I was going to be off road all day I felt very vulnerable with just a peaked cap. My worst cycling accident happened on Blackpool Prom when a collision with another cyclist sent me head first into the tram lines. Thankfully I was wearing a helmet that day. Hence my apprehension now. P1060017

Not having been on my bike since February, surely not that long – it has been very wet, I was looking for a straightforward ride. Well it was, I arrived in Glasson on a high from all the fragrant May blossom lining the route. I had cast a clout now that May was out and I was glad of it as the temperature soared. The tide was well out exposing acres of mudflats. I smiled cycling down that slight dip in the old rail track at how on a couple of occasions I’ve nearly come to grief in the floods that can cover the way, all was bone dry today. The motorcyclists were out in full force. P1060020 P1060027 P1060023

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My usual haunt, the village shop across the harbour had undergone a change, a wider door straight into the bakery section. I usually order one of their cheese and onion slices. Is this the only reason I cycle to Glasson? But what had happened to their really quite good coffee machine? It had gone but you could get one from the Smoke House shop next door. Have they missed a trick there? I was going to call in there anyhow for some smoked mackerel for Sir Hugh whom I hoped to visit later in the day. I got my coffee and sat outside the shop enjoying my slice whilst chatting to a fellow cyclist who had come down from Hest Bank. It was a great day to be out. Before leaving I returned to buy the mackerel and enjoy a bit of banter with the lady shop assistant who was struggling to unpack crisp packets for an instore display. For a full selection of their products – The Port of Lancaster Smokehouse

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Refuelled I set off back with renewed energy. Whizzing along the old railway line past Ashton Hall golf course and taking the side route to Aldcliffe to join the canal, which stays surprisingly rural, for a last burst through Lancaster to the Lune Aqueduct. It was only then I became aware that I wasn’t wearing my glasses, I hardly need them hence the delay in realisation. Was i still under the influence of the May blossom? A furtive search in my handlebar bag failed to find them. You know more or less straight away where you have probably left them. In the shop where you were balancing mackerels, glasses, phone and credit card. P1060060 P1060062 P1060067

So once back at the car I set off to navigate to Glasson.

My glasses had been handed in at the shop, the lady assistant was still battling with the crisps. So all was fine. Well almost, in my fluster about the glasses I’d forgotten I was nearly out of fuel – where is the nearest garage?

Sir Hugh never received his mackerel and in any case he was taking advantage of the good weather and wandering in the Eden Valley once more. I hope he has enjoyed a more relaxing day than mine. I await his report at conradwalks.

A BIT MORE OF BLEASDALE.

3 Replies

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

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

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

As usual we park at the Grade II listed Saint Eadmer’s Church, the only one named so in the country. “There was a church on this site in the C16th. In 1702 Christopher Parkinson of Hazelhurst gave £5 10s a year for the wages of a minister. It was rebuilt in 1835. Mullioned windows from the original church were incorporated into the tower and decorated stones can be seen in the wall next to the gate“ P1050362 P1050368

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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‘THAT LOCAL WALK’

4 Replies

P1050880 I haven’t done ‘that local walk’ this year. The fields, to be honest, have been too wet. It was a walk I repeated many times during the lockdown, remember that? It has always been one of my favourites taking me straight into the countryside. From my front door up the road and into the fields. Across them to Gill Bridge, up the lane and into the Derby Estate. Through Ferrari’s Country House grounds and back on the road past Little Town Dairy and the Derby Arms.

Today was the first time this year I’ve been able to walk in the area in trainers, sun and wind have helped to dry the ground in most places. A pleasure to be out. The grass was long and lush ready for silage.

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Even the path by the pond was dry enough. P1050885

Along the lanes and hedgerows white flowered Cow Parsley, Garlic Mustard (Jack by the hedge) and Stitchwort predominate.

Orange Tip Butterflies are ever present but decline to rest for a photograph. I thought the same of the Lapwings wheeling about but I managed to capture one in flight. P1050925

What’s afoot along the lane, lots of new agricultural buildings, more industrial looking than rural. Large plant machinery is using my track to dump clay from the site into nearby fields. Scary monsters. P1050907

Ferrari’s has just been sold for a rumoured 2.5 million pounds. The gardens look perfect today, they have been designed with weddings in mind – that’s how these sorts of places make their money, not from you and I buying a pint and a packet of crisps. P1050954

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I’m tempted to stop for a drink at the Derby Arms but it is early in the day and one might become two. I could have had a pot of tea at the farm shop. And let’s not forget the Alston Arms on the corner. Aren’t we lucky to have an abundance of catering establishments within walking distance. Locals on the local walk. P1050966

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That local walk weighs in at just under four miles. I should do it every day.

SHADY GOINGS ON…

21 Replies

P1050821

I have been out tonight with a plastic bag collecting wild garlic and coming home my car has a heavy pungent smell. This always reminds me of an incident that happened years ago, I may have mentioned it before.

I was climbing with a friend from the village. We drove up to the Eden Valley in search of some sandstone. It must have been this time of year as on the foot approach along the river we ploughed through swathes of garlic. Even the base of the crag, where we dumped our sacks, was covered in the aromatic plants. The day wore on as we climbed several routes. Packed up we retired to a pub in Orton for a pint or two. The landlord even mentioned the garlic smell to which we had by now become oblivious. Arriving back in our village, rather later than planned due to the pub visit, I dropped my friend off at home. When I next met up with him he related how his wife had given him a good dressing down for being late, but even worse accused him of not climbing at all but dining out at an Italian restaurant with a secret belle, the garlic odour being so strong. He had difficulty persuading her otherwise. My car and climbing gear stunk for weeks.

No secret rendezvous tonight, just a short walk into some shady woods to harvest some Wild Garlic leaves. As a bonus I also enjoyed a good show of Bluebells. P1050852

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My bag of garlic is now emptied onto the kitchen worktop. I separate out the flowers, they are useful as a topping on salads for a quick flavour boost. the leaves I wash. In the past I have used them in a nettle and garlic soup and have made a tasty pesto sauce. But tonight I’m going to sauté the leaves in butter to have with a couple of poached eggs, accompanied by some new Jersey potatoes. P1050854

Et voila…

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CICERONE’S LANCASHIRE. Great Hill, Belmont and beyond.

13 Replies

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I keep dipping into Mark Sutcliffe’s Cicerone guidebook. I almost didn’t today, I am late up having not slept at all well (nothing unusual there), the day’s sunny start was changing and the forecast suggested rain later. But a sudden spurt of enthusiasm has me breakfasted and in the car by 10.30. I know that’s late by most peoples standards but what does it matter, there is plenty of daylight since the clocks changed. A little rain won’t hurt me. A quick whiz around the motorways and I’m parked on the Tockholes road and starting the walk by 11.30.

I nearly came to do this walk a couple of weeks ago but the route description “a boggy indistinct path” and “the going is much tougher than it looks” were a warning especially after all this year’s rain. but some drier days have come along and my impatience gets the better of me.

All starts off well with a stony land rover track heading somewhere into the hills. I’m guided out of a noisy lapwing’s territory. The grasses have that dead yellow colour to them after the winter. The track turns a corner and becomes a boggy path which I soon manage to lose. Before long I’m staggering around amongst tussocky mounds, how can things go wrong so quickly? P1050517

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Looking back to the carpark with Cartridge Hill to the left.

Going…

going…

gone!

I can see groups coming off Great Hill over to my left but the guide says cross a gully before joining the main track. I find a way down. I pass the ‘trial shaft’ marked on the map and come close to the long abandoned farmhouse of Pimm’s, its location next to the trees. Four coming the other way are on a professional navigation course. Others are D of E out training, map cases attempting to strangle them in the breeze. And then I’m left to myself for the slow trudge to the top. There are 360 degree views but all a little dull for photography. When was I last up here? November 2014 with Al “The Plastic Bag Man” – I am going to his funeral this week. Is that coincidence I am here or is some hidden agenda guiding me? P1050545

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Looking back to Darwen Tower.

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The well constructed summit shelter is tempting for an early lunch but I’ve not enough miles under my belt yet. One of those lovely Peak and Northern Footpath Society signs has me on my way southwards along Redmond’s Edge with the masts of Winter Hill beckoning from afar. It was never like this before – a paved way becomes a veritable King’s Highway across the morass. Hundreds, probably thousands, of gritstone flags ripped out of old cotton mills line the route. Lancashire had more mills than most other places in the industrial era. Some flags bear the scars of the machinery embedded into them. This modern paving is to prevent erosion, I can’t imagine how much this two mile stretch must have cost. It gives effortless strolling, is quite creative in parts but doesn’t compare with the worn flags of the packhorse trails across the Pennines. Must be great for the Mountain Bikers though. In some places the peat is fighting back. Those dry stone walls up here must have also taken some constructing. P1050571

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Onwards over Spitlers, the highest point, now on gravel and the road coming up from Belmont is reached, masts towering above us. I never realised that the River Yarrow started up here. A cyclist pulls in after her steep road ascent and we get into all things cycling, talk of electric bikes which we both eschew, for now.

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Strangely I didn’t meet many people on that last two mile stretch but those I do have dogs and bar one not on a lead. The ground bird nesting season is in full swing, Curlews, Meadow Pipits, Skylarks and Lapwings are all around. What makes dog owners ignorant of the effects of their dogs running loose across the moor? There are signs everywhere saying control your dog. Starting to get grumpy. P1050606

And then it was the noisy motor bikes hurtling past on the road. I shouldn’t get grumpy on a lovely day like this, but I do. Fortunately after 200m I escape onto an old footpath, possibly the original way, past Hoar Stones down into Belmont. The path is well contoured and drained, a delight to walk. A quarry is passed with strange strata of overhanging slabs of rock. Fell ponies are cropping the grass and take very little notice of me. I arrive into the linear village far too high to consider a diversion to the Black Dog. I now in retrospect wish I had done as it was on one of our irregular meet-ups in November that I last saw Al. I irreverently call him “The Plastic Bag Man” because of his trade promoting and selling plastic packaging. Hopefully he won’t he won’t be vilified for all that environmentally damaging plastic. So many good outings with him.

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My way onwards involves crossing the dam of Belmont Reservoir to link up with the Witton Weavers Way on the east side of the valley. But, no the way is closed for ongoing reservoir works. I had no intension of walking back up the busy A675 road. Drawing a discreet veil over my progress I find myself on the other side and on the lane up to Pasture House Farms. I share the way with a Labrador walker who’s daily route has been disrupted by the dam works. We admire the spring lambs but up ahead are cows that she is scared of, I sympathise, but then lead on to the open rough pasture where the herd. is grazing. They take no notice of us, I go north she heads south. Yet another of those brief encounters. P1050664 P1050666 P1050674 P1050679

Easy going on a good level track, past Lower Pasture Barn Farm, which has had several reincarnations since it was a ruin. My camera has started taking square pictures and multiple exposures, it is too fiddly to sort out on the move. Another of those P&NFS signs points up to Darwen Moor which I resist, my car park is almost insight. A hidden little path through the trees off the road takes me directly there. P1050683 P1050713 P1050710

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An afterword. I’ve mentioned my late friend Al (the plastic bag man) too many times in the last couple of weeks with his name and memory cropping up all over the place. Tonight on NW TV news there was a segment on a chap with the same ‘fibrosing lung disease’ waiting for a transplant. Al unfortunately wasn’t fit enough to be considered for that.

***

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BOULDERING AND BIRDS.

10 Replies

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An afternoon up on the fell.

First stop Craig Y Longridge where I do some easy low level traversing. There is only one other climber here, a friendly bearded wonder from Southport, he is trying far harder things than I. As part of my training programme, those were the days, I rest every few feet. To justify this I do a little bird song identification with the help of Merlin. At the far end of the crag where I hide out there are trees and bushes, I often see wrens, blackbirds and goldfinches. Leaving my phone recording for five minutes brings up Robin, Goldfinch, Chiffchaff, Blackbird, Wren, Wood Pigeon and Blue Tit. Not a bad sample from an urban site. My friend from Southport is perplexed. Oh, and the Grebes are back on the little reservoir across the road. P1050512

Moving on I drive to the far end of the fell and mosey about in the hidden quarry there. First I spot a couple of Roe Deer disappearing on my approach. I do a little low level traversing again, finding the lowest traverse too hard, before I sit and listen. All trees and in the countryside – so what will I hear? Wren, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Siskin, Willow Warbler, Chiffchaff, Pheasant, Blackbird, Wood Pigeon, Robin, Goldcrest. P1050506

Moving on I visit another hidden quarry and dream about climbing one of its steeper walls. Whilst I’m there – Blackbird, Wren, Willow Warbler. Coal Tit, Pheasant, Siskin, Jay. This quarry is common land yet the neighbouring property is trying to fence it in. P1050508

On the way home I can’t resist a brief walk around my favourite plantation. Proper ‘twitchers’ are hoping to see the Barn Owls quartering the fell. I disappear into the trees, but I can hear the Cuckoo across the way. I’ve never seen him of her, but they always return to the same spot. A spell binding call. In the higher quarry pond Mother Mallard has eight ducklings, only one in the photo, I wish them all the best. P1050467

So back to the bouldering – Its not all about the grade, its all about the song.

FAIRSNAPE FELL.

11 Replies

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I’ve used various alliterations based on Fair and Fairsnape in past titles, so lets just keep it simple today, Fairsnape Fell. The last time JD and I were up here was nearly four years ago – time for a revisit. I was pleased with his suggested pick up time of 10 am, even more so this morning with ice on the bird bath.

We were parked up in a little layby under Saddle End Farm at 10.30. The hoards all use the narrow lane below Fell Foot as we were to see later. It was steadily uphill for a long stretch but the sun was warm, there was no wind and the Skylarks were singing. Since my last visit here they have installed some of those green metal kissing gates. We just pottered along chatting, a few fell runners passed us on the way. This circuit used to be my training run, JD had lengthier projects. P1050475 P1050477 P1050479

We take the driest way along the ridge and visit the highest point of Fairnsape, 522m. despite the deep mud surrounding it. P1050481

More boot sucking areas were skirted on the way to the trig point, Paddy’s Pole and shelter. There are always a few people about up here. The last time I bivied here for the night there was a crowd of campers. Today there was room for us in the shelter, newly equipped with benches, for a light lunch. P1050482 P1050484

I have to admit it’s been a difficult few days with one death after another of my closest and dearest friends. As I intimated, conversation with JD is easy, we have similar interests and political views. But what I didn’t expect as we exchanged anecdotes, as you do, how often my recently departed pal Alan, the plastic bag man, came into the conversation. Al and I went back 40 years with many adventures on the way. We can’t all live for ever.

As we headed along the ridge towards Parlick the crowds were coming up. I love this stretch with the views down into Bleasdale, across the Fylde and Morecambe Bay. A couple of gliders slid past. P1050489

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Taking the easy traversing route to the west of Parlick we find that it has been very much improved in the last year, what was a badly eroded track was now a pleasant promenade and some more of those metal gates have been added. Yes and there below were the lines of parked cars if you look carefully. P1050494 P1050496

We slunk off towards Wolfen Hall after negotiating an old wooden gate held up by string, time for a replacement metal one. Rather muddy paths had us back to Saddle End. It will take some time this year for the fields to dry out. P1050497

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Back at the car I regretted I had no loose change for their excellent free range eggs. Screenshot 2024-04-21 174034

A great day to be out. Good company and warm sunshine. 1300feet in six miles.

Looking back at Parlick and Fairsnape.

***

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PENDLE SCULPTURES.

14 Replies

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

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

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

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

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

We can’t miss the Magic Chair (Ben Gates) right by the path. Intricate wood carvings connected by metal fastenings. distorted and moulded. Spooky limbs and eyes but lovely boots. It was a little cold on the bum to sit in for long. P1050419 P1050418

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

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

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

Are we getting our eyes in, for we soon spot the next two. Reconnected 1 and 2. (Phillipe Handford) are trees that have been felled and cleverly sprung back to their stumps. I like these, very organic. Unfortunately, as it is with wood, rot is setting in. P1050424 P1050423 P1050425 P1050426

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

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

1324 – Barley ‘Barlegh’ appears

1507 – Pendle Forest deforested by Henry V11

1612 – Local ‘witches’ taken to Lancaster Castle

1652 – George Fox

1661 – Richard Towneley’s barometric readings on Pendle Hill

1750 – First Inghamite church in Fence

1894 – Black Moss reservoir built

1912 – Clarion House built

1918 – War memorial in Barley

1935 – Aitken Wood planted

1938 – Whitehough established

1945 – end of WW2 and losses from Barley

1987 – The Pendleway created

2012 – Sculpture trail started

2018 – second phase of the trail

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

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The Black Dog, (Incredible Creations) can’t be missed. More like a fierce demonic wolf than a dog. Black dogs were associated with witchcraft back in those days. We give him a replacement horn for the one that had gone missing. P1050431 P1050432

Look up and you will see Three Bats In Flight, (Steve Blaycock) another animal associated with witches, is this all getting too scary for children? I hope I don’t have nightmares. P1050435 P1050434

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

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

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Spiders, owls and a fairy are not found; we aren’t doing very well really. But there is a Unicorn, (Incredible Creations again) another mythical beast. Only the deep surrounding mud prevented Clare taking a ride of fancy. P1050444 P1050445 As we leave the forest a stark metal silhouette of Chained Witches, (Peter Naylor) being marched from Pendle to Lancaster. I am impressed with the detail imparted by a few strips of metal, a reflection of the artist’s skill. P1050446 P1050449 P1050450 P1050451

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

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

We walk back down to the Black Moss reservoirs and take a different path home through fields full of primroses and trees festooned with healthy lichen. P1050453 P1050454 P1050457 P1050458

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

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

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

***

Screenshot 2024-04-19 195723

SPRING IN BLEASDALE.

23 Replies

I hear the sound of Curlews in the air as soon as I leave the car. That haunting call across the rough fields.

It had been a toss up this morning, Belmont or Bleasdale. I have unfinished business on Great Hill and Spitlers Edge, but how boggy was it going to be up there. Let’s play safe and use the lanes of Bleasdale Estate for a drier round.

Spring is in the air, but only just after the last couple of days’ hailstorms. Blossom adorns the little lodge. A cheery row of daffodils line the road leading into the estate. Immediately the expanse of Bleasdale opens up with the familiar Bowland Hills as a backdrop. I don’t spot the Curlews but I do witness a few Lapwings performing their aerial display. And what is going on with those sheep and seagulls, with pheasants and jackdaw in attendance?

The wood to the right which was disappearing under foreign Rhododendrons has been grubbed up and the replacement mixed planting is only white tree casings at present, all looking very barren. But around the corner is a similar plantation now a few years old and the bird song emanating from it is orchestral this morning. They are all busy bonding and nest prospecting no doubt. Robin, Chiffchaff, Siskin, Song Thrush, Willow Warbler, Wren, Chaffinch, Tree Creeper. Goes to show how trees are so important as a habitat.

It doesn’t look much but what bird life thrives in there.

No body is about at the buildings, once a reformatory school, as I turn right towards the more open moor. Everywhere are sheep and their lovely lambs, it is difficult to take a photo without including them.

The two remote farms are still operating as such, whereas other properties have been converted to residential use.

It’s awhile since I’ve been to the Bronze Age Circle. Last time was after one of our winter storms and the place was a mess with fallen trees. Time for another look although I know the fields to get to it will be muddy. All is clean and tidy the debris has been cleared away, the inner circle, indicated only by posts, and ditch are obvious again and there is a welcome planting of trees around the periphery of the site. Does it all line up with that nick in the fell’s skyline? Once the Preston Harris Museum is open again I must visit to look at the artifacts from this site. Persons unknown have been attaching ‘clooties’ to one of the remaining trees.

St Eadmer’s Church is always worth a look, standing as it does in isolation below the fells.

The school is no more but the buildings have taken on a new residential life.

I do eventually get caught in an April shower which looks far more severe on Fairsnape.

Then on past one of the estate’s landmark beech hedges.

There’s a bee on the gorse and a pheasant strutting his stuff, it must be spring.

As there is nobody staying I have a look around the camping chalets in the field as I pass. Pretty basic tent sides with an inner living space and log fire. The one I scout around, forgive my nosiness, is called Curlew. They go under the Glamping Hideaway’s banner of Lanterns and Larks. A holiday away from it all?

Sometime I must have a closer look at that little packhorse bridge near the farm.

That has been a whistle stop tour of Bleasdale, get you boots on and do it for yourself sometime.

By the way it is more like winter again today. ‘Cast not a clout till may is out’.

***

THIS MORNING.

12 Replies

Al.

Today. This morning the day begins well as I sit listening to a beautiful Blackbird serenading his belle. My spirit is uplifted. Then the phone rings – my climbing friend, Al, had passed away in the night. I’ve expressed my vulnerability here before, possibly cloaked in obscurity. Today I feel very vulnerable.

Yesterday. We had been out on a gentle walk in the Bowland uplands, I was about to write a post about it. My ex-work partner and I meeting up with a close friend who had recently lost his wife to that cruel cancer of the pancreas. I had attended her funeral last week. We three walked through farms owned by The Duchy of Lancaster. now King Charles. A welcome sunny afternoon after all the rain. We talked of many things. Lambs frolicked in the fields just beginning to dry out. primroses covered the banks surrounded by reef knolls. This is Curlew country.

A chance conversation, or was it destined? at one of these remote properties with a retired teacher. Not sure how it started but at one stage – “Do you remember Dave? I was his senior colleague for years in Blackburn” “Bloody hell yes, a lovely bloke I climbed with him for years” I replied. Naturally more reminiscing followed and I promised to phone Dave and tell him of the meeting and bring him up to date.

I first met Dave in Preston Hospital when he was recovering from a serious climbing accident. An accident in which Al was influential in saving his life. Despite that accident Dave and I formed a comfy climbing partnership with his wife’s encouragement.

A few years later through Dave I met Al (1982). I remember the day. It was at Attermire, a limestone crag north of Settle. Barrel Buttress to be precise. The start of a forty year friendship. He has made many appearances in my posts as ‘the plastic bag man’ – a reference to his trade rather than his street appearance. Regular meet ups in the Lancashire quarries every Wednesday night followed, along with the ‘rockman‘ and the ‘pieman‘. Holidays in the alps became an annual treat. Long days on the trails and long nights in the refuges. We lived life to the full is the euphemism.

We all got older and for some, physical activities were restricted. But that friendship continued with catchup meetings for a drink or a meal. Latterly all Al could manage was a phone call and then not even that. Bringing us to this morning. I ended up phoning Dave, not about my chance meeting with his headmaster but with news of Al’s death. Circles within circles.

Thanks for bearing with my vulnerability, here are some photos of that walk yesterday with friends in Bowland including that iconic phone box, now put into another perspective.. My thoughts are with Al’s family.

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In the words of Bob Dylan – It’s not dark yet.