Tag Archives: Lancashire

BELOW PENDLE AGAIN.

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

C18th Bustards Farm, my starting point in the village.

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

Twiston Mill.

Its silted up mill pond.

Each chapter in the book is written by a different local author and the standard of accuracy has varied, todays is not the best and I have to resort to my OS mapping on the phone to find my way above Twiston. Its uphill all the way to meet the next minor road. I recognise some stretches from a reverse walk in March two years ago which helps. The Blackthorn Blossom is just starting, as it was last time I came this way. P1040666 P1040665

Looking back to the Ribble Valley.

All morning Pendle Hill has been looming above me, a little hazy at times and at the road its big end is directly above. The scenery changes here, I’ve left the green pastures and venture onto the open moors for a stretch above Coolham Farm. This is the highest I get on Pendle’s skirts. I have to imagine Ingleborough and Pen-Y-Ghent ahead of me in the haze but can pick out Rimington far below. P1040670 P1040673

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Out of nowhere a wall enclosed green lane appears heading down from Twiston Moor. I follow it, doglegging, until alongside a deep wooded clough, the upper reaches of Ings Beck. I try to take some pictures of the red buds on the Larches here but the breeze makes it difficult to focus. P1040683 P1040680 P1040691 P1040687 P1040695

Just outside the garden of Clough Head Farm is the Thomas Peel Bulcock memorial of which I knew nothing. It was erected by Thomas Bulcock in 1863 in memory of his son buried here and other relations buried in Whalley and Downham churchyards. The Bulcock family apparently had a long association with the area. P1040698 P1040701

Having passed through the farmyard I find myself in one of the longest fields I’ve seen in these parts. Back to green pastures I wander down the hillside to come out onto a familiar lane. P1040704 P1040705 P1040710

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

Knowing the way I am soon back into sleepy Rimington. P1040739 P1040746

The converted Black Bull and Cosgroves ladies clothing shop.

A sprightly five miles.

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GRUNSAGILL.

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

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

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

Yes, it is official it has been the wettest February in recent history so we can expect mud at the very least. In fact we miss out the first water-logged field in favour of the water-logged farm lane alongside Blue Scar, with locked gates. The farm has been unoccupied for years and last time I was here I struggled to find the PROW up from Skirden Beck into and through the farmyard, only to discover there was a concessionary path bypassing the farm altogether. Forewarned we follow it today dropping us down to the beck side. Those new galvanised gates help us find the way to the footbridge and the steep climb to Ray Head Farm, 1677. The fields are merely damp. P1040578 P1040579

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

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We are back to wooden stiles now and the guide warns of difficult route finding, we go astray in the wrong field above and unable to gain access to New Gill Beck. Backtracking is the only option and we find our own way down through no man’s land to another new gate and the little footbridge over the beck. Out of the blue we come across a waymark for The Ribble Valley Jubilee Trail. Later research suggests this would be a worthwhile week’s 65 mile walk through some of the best of the Ribble Valley. P1040591 P1040592 P1040593

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Strangely there is an in situ caravan relic in the next field, no idea how it got there. P1040596 P1040598

We make better progress on a pleasant stretch alongside the beck. P1040602 P1040600

And there in front of us is the imposing Beckfoot Farmhouse with its mullioned windows, dating from1686 and partly rebuilt 1876. The lower plaque in the porch says EBI AN.DO 1686. P1040604 P1040607 P1040606 P1040605

Stately living indeed and they are making changes to the landscape hereabouts, lots, and I mean lots, of tree planting but the footpath remains clear through their estate. There has also been a lot of work done along with the environment agencies to slow down the flow of water in the beck in times of heavy rain. A work in progress no doubt. It looks like an ideal place to reintroduce Beavers? P1040609 P1040610

A bit of rougher ground and a dodgy footbridge brought us to the road at Butterfields. P1040611 We now follow the quiet lanes for a mile or so, at the high point Pendle comes into view again. There are lots of cyclists, presumably from east Lancashire clubs, using this switchback route. A majority of the properties seem to be holiday lets, is this the only future for English farming? See below. P1040614

We drop into Grunsagill, a once stately house and a couple of farms. Chatting to the farmer he says it is too cold and wet up here for lambing now, best in April. In fact it turns out his sheep are down in lower fields at Longridge where we have come from.
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A brief spell by Grunsagill Beck, another tributary of Skirden Beck, and we descend into what is basically a holiday village, Lower Gill. Farm buildings done up as self catering units and attached recreational facilities including a heated pool. P1040619 P1040620

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

The next three quarters of a mile however were spent sinking into the worst possible flooded fields and then even worse trying to stay afloat on what was basically a slurry lagoon. Slurry is an integral part of modern farming where animal waste together with other waste organic farm matter is converted over a period of time into fertilizer that can be reused on their lands to fertilize crops. It should be in a controlled slurry pit not dumped into farm lanes. Slurry pits are dangerous enough from the point of view of deadly gases and drowning. Out here we felt very vulnerable on the virtually impassable slurry track. God knows what damage and pollution the run off into streams is creating. It can’t all be blamed on the wet weather, this is dumped farm waste. It should be looked upon as a serious enough problem as fly tipping in the countryside and sewage disposal by the big water companies. A world away from the high end vacation focused and sanitised ‘farming’ back at Lower Gill. I wonder if it is their land and slurry? P1040626 P1040629 P1040631 P1040630

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

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RIMINGTON – ‘Time flies swiftly away’.

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For a change you may start this post with a piece of music to set the scene.

The tune is the hymn ‘Rimington’, composed by Francis Duckworth. He was born in the Ribble Valley village of Rimington on Christmas Day 1862 at the grocery store, now a house. When he was five he moved with his family to nearby Stopper Lane, where they ran the village shop next door to a Wesleyan Chapel and hand loom cottages, now all private residences. Francis’s mother died when he was 12 and he began a hard life of working in various family shops. He later opened his own grocer’s shop in Colne. He was well known throughout the area as an accomplished musician and organist and composed many hymns, often named after local villages. ‘Rimington’ appeared in 1904. He remained in Colne until his death in 1941. He is buried in nearby Gisburn’s churchyard where his memorial is inscribed with the first couple of lines of his famous hymn.

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We find ourselves parked this morning in that village of Rimington to follow another walk from Clitheroe Ramblers – 25 Walks in the Ribble and Hodder Valleys. Once again under the shadow of Pendle Hill, only a few miles from touristy Downham where I was a couple of weeks ago. But there are no tourists here, it is a curious village strung out along the lane with no obvious centre and a variety of housing styles. The Black Bull pub mentioned in the guide is nowhere to be seen, presumably closed.

Anyhow we find our footpath heading into the fields – it is marked as a Heritage Trail, of which we know nothing. Some of the stiles are hard to spot with the sun in our eyes; as is Pendle towering above us. Yes, at last the sun is making a weak appearance today. In places the stiles have been replaced by those utilitarian galvanised kissing gates. I’m still not bowled over by them, being a dyed in the wool old git; see below. Anyway we head towards a farm through more tradional old gate posts and past a street light in the middle of nowhere. Bits of limestone break through the grass giving us a clue to the geology of the area. P1040511 P1040514 P1040517 P1040519 P1040522

Before we go farther I would like to do a poll on which of the following you feel is most appropriate in our countryside, assuming progress has to be made. Galvanised or green?

Disused mines are marked on our map, perhaps they are something to do with the heritage trail. On the ground, pits start to appear all over the hillside and across the other side of Ings Valley. Apparently silver rich lead was recovered from here originally in the C17th from bell pits and later on an industrial scale from mine shafts. A smelt mill was built in the C19th. “Between 1880 and 1885 the York & Lancaster United Mining Co. Ltd sank a shaft and raised some ore. Unfortunately, James Wiseman, the banksman in charge of the shaft top, fell down the shaft and was killed in September 1884” This latter information I gleamed later from the internet where Rimington’s heritage is well represented. We should have known this before to fully appreciate and interpret the area. P1040526 P1040528 P1040530 P1040529

We come across a small limestone quarry but fail to spot its limekiln. P1040532

There is probably a lot of heritage around here.

In the distance below Pendle is listed but modernised Clough Head Farm. We are almost on the border of Lancashire and Yorkshire hereabouts. I remember when White Rose flags were flown in Gisburn long after it had been assimilated into Lancashire. Lanes, which switchback the slopes, bring us to Middop Hall, C17th and again listed but without much change. A grand display of mullioned windows. Somewhere in the barn are remnants of Sawley Abbey. The stone from the abbeys must have been reused in many farms in the area, we have passed some at Little Mearley Hall before. P1040536 P1040537 P1040543 P1040541

Shortly after leaving Widdop Hall we get into conversation with a friendly farmer on his quad bike. After the usual discussion on the weather he opens up and tells us he lives at the Hall and relates its history. If only we had met him down there we may have had a closer look around.

Onwards on the deserted lane with more ups and downs than I want. Then we are heading up onto the slopes of Weets Hill to join the Pennine Bridleway on Coal Pit Lane, more heritage there.
P1040548 P1040550 From this elevated position the Three Yorkshire Peaks are just visible but too hazy to photograph. It is a slightly better view down the Ribble Valley towards the Parlick and Fairsnape group of Bowland. And of course you can’t get away from Pendle in these parts. P1040551 P1040553 Soon we are on the return leg, again on quiet lanes, through the hamlets of Howgill, Newby and Stopper Lane. Lots of interesting buildings are passed and we guess at their original purposes.

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A lot we walk past without a second glance, never mind a photograph. We do notice the plaque to Duckworth in Stopper Lane, but had no idea of the industry here. The historic photo is of the village’s joinery shop with its ‘windmill’. Screenshot 2024-02-24 213325 Screenshot 2024-02-24 213447 Here abouts is the village institute hall, a good half mile out of the village proper. But it does have an information board which tells us, all too late, about the Heritage Trail we have almost followed. P1040562

If you are planning to visit this area be sure to download this map from their website. https://www.rimington.org.uk/index.php/rimington-s-heritage/heritage-trail We wish we had and feel the need to go back and check out our omissions.

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The sundial on Martin Top Chapel, under scafolding today, is a reminder that this life we live is short and fleeting, and also seems to comment on the changes that have occured quite rapidly in these working villages in our lifetime.

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STRANGE LITTER.

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A crystal clear brook – but what lurks within?

The last time I was up the fell, here in Cowley Brook Plantation, I noticed litter starting to appear. Time for a clean up to hopefully stop it becoming a recurring problem.

Hailstones kept me awake all night and this morning there were some hefty showers. So I was in no rush to get out, par for the course at this time of year for me I’m afraid. Living in Longridge, which is elevated from the Preston plain, allows one to look out to the west and see what weather is coming our way for the next hour or so; the best way of weather forecasting. At two o’clock it was all blue sky.

Armed with my plastic bag and ‘litter picker’ I wandered into the trees and up to the highest point. On these remoter paths, all is relative from the road, I found only the odd can and a sweet paper or two. Working my way back down to the popular dog walking circuits, guess what I picked up the most? No prizes for the correct answer – poo bags. Some hidden in the undergrowth, others hanging from a convenient branch. 20240223_153308 20240223_153806

Coming back up through the woods by the lively stream there was a rash of orange peel scattered about. 20240223_160017

And then near the gate from the road a disgusting pile of nappies and tissues. Screenshot 2024-02-23 203330

I seem to remember changing my children in the boot of the car, but that was before ‘disposable’ nappies became the norm. The throwaway society has led to ever more landfills, water pollution, ocean degradation and now a worrying apathy to the problem. Recycling will never keep up with the world’s waste. Coming up at the beginning of March is ‘The Big Plastic Count’ which helps you to focus on your own use and points the way to a more sustainable future. It all starts at home so why not sign up at Home | The Big Plastic Count Shame they couldn’t have produced a more polished video.

The nappies safely into the bag, along with a few polystyrene coffee cups from the roadside, I was ready to leave but then spotted… P1040480

…laid out near the path. Strange litter, why and by whom?

Job done, home for tea.

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BASHALL EAVES CIRCULAR.

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On the map this looks like a nice gentle rural walk, perfect for Mike’s training schedule before flying off to Madeira’s sunny adventures. I agreed to join him, secretly knowing the true facts from a relatively recent visit.

Another route he had chosen from Clitheroe Ramblers’ Walks in the Ribble and Hodder valleys. Today it was the Hodder.

The cloud was down on the Bowland Fells which is a shame as there is a fell race up there today. Even Longridge Fell stayed under mist as we drove alongside to park in Bashall Eaves. We had a window of dry weather until about three this afternoon. Better get a move on.

All started well along a farm track, the guide’s instructions just said follow a waymarked route through the farm and cross five fields. Of course there were no waymarks and we had to ask the farmer the way out of his yard. He looked us up and down and delivered the fateful “there is a lot of water in the fields” before sending us into those fields. The first was the worst, a glutinous shaking morass. It was best to keep sidestepping the worst and not linger as your boots were being sucked down. To make things worse the stiles, if you could find them, were rotting and held together with string. Not a good start to the day and I knew things were to become far worse. Not many people come this way. P1040381 P1040382

If we are going to have to become accustomed to water logged ground in the future I think I need to invest in some good walking Wellingtons.

Agden Farm was a Land Rover graveyard, at least the cows are kept inside,. The path, as it was, disappeared into undergrowth before tackling a steep ravine on muddy steps. This was the first of several cloughs we encountered today, steep and slippery down and steep and slippery back up. P1040390 P1040386 P1040393 P1040398

Guesswork and some dodgy stiles delivered us to the next roller coaster, Paper Mill Wood, where at the bottom a fast flowing stream had to be forded. There was a brief respite alongside the River Hodder, the scenery idyllic. This is fishermen’s territory and there isn’t a lot of public access. P1040403 P1040404 P1040406 P1040407 P1040411 P1040415

Open fields above the Hodder, with the instruction to head uphill to the three oaks. That was easy enough, they were unmistakable. Now head for a lone ash. This brought on a discussion on identifying trees in Winter mode, a skill neither of us had, I may go on a course I see they are running at Brockholes Nature Reserve. Drop down to a stile wasn’t very helpful as we couldn’t see one. But there was the faintest evidence of a path, the first today. Not many come this way. P1040420

I was telling Mike about the next bridge, at one time erroneously marked as ‘Roman Bridge’ but more likely a mill packhorse bridge, we were heading for. How maybe 35 years ago my eldest son and I arrived at it on a walk to find it taped off and in a dangerous state. We recklessly crawled across the crumbling stonework with a large drop below us. I had returned a few times after it was rebuilt as a wooden structure in 1997. But the bridge we came to today didn’t look very impressive, perhaps my memory is playing tricks. P1040425

No we weren’t there yet. Dropping farther into the woods we eventually arrived at the deep ravine of Mill Brook and the dramatic ‘new’ bridge. It was an impressive, as I had remembered it, and no doubt expensive, piece of engineering. The brook is 40 feet below. Having not met a single person since the first farm, a spaniel trotted across the bridge in front of us, soon to be followed by his master. The conversation that ensued turned out to be between two architects, one practising and the other retired. I listened in. He, the practising one, had just come from Lees House where he had been responsible for recent renovations. He warned us of more slippery paths to come and then posed on the bridge for his photo. P1040426 P1040428

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The way onwards and upwards was indeed awkward through a series of fallen trees. Not many people come this way, get the idea. P1040435

The guide book has you continuing across fields to pick up the road for a while before doubling back to Lees House. A rather pointless exercise as there is on the map a lane direct to the house from the edge of the woods. All right, it may not be a public right of way but we were happy to risk it and we were soon through the buildings without encroaching on their privacy and back on track.

On track meant a narrow hemmed in path past Lees House and a slithering descent through the woods to yet another footbridge over Mill Brook. (I wonder if a direct way could be found alongside the brook from the near the ‘Roman’ bridge). I have never found an easy way up from this latest footbridge, often ending up in impenetrable Elephant grass. Today we staggered steeply upwards through the mud and low tree branches. Not many people come this way. The grass has not started its growing season yet, but was lurking in the background. Eventually we were in the open fields heading to salvation. In hindsight, a wonderful thing, I think I might know a better way next time. P1040438 P1040440 P1040443 P1040445

Salvation was reaching the farm track at Micklehurst Farm in the middle of nowhere. It was great to hear and see Lapwings flying over these fields. Some of the caged working dogs were noisy but probably harmless, but the brown one on a short chain looked particularly menacing. How strong are those chains?

We didn’t quite make the entrance to Browsholme Hall. The seldom travelled side road took us through felled plantations, now being resurrected as nature reserves. That often in these parts is an equivalent for pheasant breeding and shooting grounds.

I diverted from the direct way back to Bashalls to show Mike the Saddle Bridge below Rugglesmire Hall. Probably from the C17th but restored, by public conscription in 1954. It is known locally as Fairy Bridge, said to have been built one night by fairies to help an old woodcutter who was being pursued by witches. A delightful spot. P1040455

In the hamlet of Bashall Eaves, maybe a dozen cottages, is a preserved Lancashire Cheese press worth a picture. P1040478

A delightful walk, all great fun. Those six miles took us over four hours. Come prepared for a testing time, but enjoy the unspoilt environment and wildlife of Bowland.

Across the fields to Longridge Fell.

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A YEAR ON THE FELL.

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I have just created a file in my computer photos for a recurring picture which I hope to take every month or more often if I get the chance to see how the scenery changes through the year. I have chosen a spot in United Utility’s Cowley Brook Plantation on the edge of Longridge Fell for this project. This little area has become a favourite of mine for a quick blast of fresh air, some bird song, the delightful babbling brook and a variety of tree plantings since it was semi-cleared a few years ago. A little sanctuary, who’s development I’m keen to follow. I’m sorry I didn’t catch the snow a couple of weeks ago.

Ignore the dog walkers, the majority take away their mess, I clean up the rest. Go in the early morning or at dusk to have the place to yourself. Get off the beaten track. You may catch sight of a shy Roe Deer or a quartering Barn Owl. There is nearly always a Warbler to be heard. Last year we were visited by Crossbills.

Today I didn’t even set foot in the woods. The mist was down and there was steady rain. I was surprised to see cars parked up at the popular Jeffrey Hill spot. The fell would be squelchy to say the least and there were certainly no views. This was the forecast for the day. I only drove up to give my little car a run out after its battery had failed. Screenshot 2024-02-16 155624

And this is what it looked like today.

Jeffrey Hill car park.

Cowley Brook plantation.

These were my first photos taken in January, nothing dramatic. I’ll revisit on a better day for the February view. The view to the west I thought was too enclosed, but I may change my mind on that for the sake of completeness.

To the east.

To the north.

To the south.

On the map below the green marker is approximately where I have decided to record the changing year. By pure chance it is on the line of an ancient Roman Road coming up from Ribchester, serendipity. Screenshot 2024-02-17 161842

In view of the lack of any decent photos today I’m sharing this one, give me Longridge Fell any day.

Waiting for a bus on the South Col Everest.

IN THE SHADOW OF PENDLE.

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After all that arty stuff over in Yorkshire last week it is time to get back to some proper Lancashire walking.

This walk is described as a classic in the booklet published by Clitheroe Ramblers – 25 Walks in the Ribble and Hodder Valleys. An excellent little production from 2004 with several authors describing their favourite local walks. I can vouch for most of them.

Wednesday is the only decent day of the week before a yellow warning for snow and ice. I thought of going for my usual cycle ride around Morecambe Bay and visiting Sir Hugh, but he turns out to be occupied, it can wait till another time when he is free. All this thinking and procrastinating and it is nearly lunchtime. Who else would be free for a quick short walk – I phone JD and he says he will be ready in 15 minutes, that’s what friend are for. Somehow I feel I need company today.

An easy drive and we are parked up by the little stream in Downham, one of the prettiest villages in Lancashire. The estate does not allow overhead electricity lines, aerials or satellite dishes etc , making it a popular location for period films. The classic 1961 film Whistle Down the Wind was based on the area and more recently the BBC 1 series Born and Bred. Many of the buildings in the village and surroundings are listed, including the stone bridge we are parked by.

But we haven’t come to look at the houses, no we have a brisk 5 miles to walk in the limestone country below towering Pendle. The guide book is very functional and basically just gives you directions without any historic or geological embellishments.

Chapter 14. A Downham Classic. Gill Morpeth.

We are soon unto fields heading towards Worsaw End Farm and there below us is the barn where Alan Bates (AKA Jesus or ‘the man’) sought refuge from the law and entranced the children from the village in that famous 1961 film, Whistle Down the Wind. Hayley Mills is the girl feeding and protecting him. I have just found out that the original novel was written in ’59 by Mary Hayley Bell, wife of John Mills and mother of the star Hayley Mills. If you get a chance to watch this black and white movie you will recognise a lot of the scenery but it is deeper than you think with strong allegorical passages as well as Lancashire humour. “he’s not Jesus, he’s just a fella”

The phrase ‘Whistle down the wind’ comes from Falconry. When falcons are released to hunt they are sent upwind and when turned loose for recreation they are sent downwind. So down the wind is to be cast off to find ones own path. There is no wind today and we have a map so perhaps there are no similarities to be drawn. We just get on with walk.

Above us is the rounded Worsaw Hill, a grassed over limestone reef knoll which today is popular with the local sheep. I went up it once for a spectacular view down the Ribble Valley, well Clitheroe Cement works at least. We pass briefly into the yard of the farm featured in the film and than are back into fields alongside the meandering Worston Brook. We spot an almost hidden ‘packhorse bridge’. The water looks so clear, having come down from Pendle. I remember fishing as a child for Crayfish in these Pennine becks. I met a woman recently who was doing some research for DEFRA on crayfish in certain locations, they are apparently a very good indication of water pollution.

We approach Worston but don’t visit it, half a dozen houses and a good rural inn, The Calf’s Head. Instead we take a direct route up the fields towards Pendle. I don’t recognise this way, but when I look at my map from the last time I have, So much for my memory. I do know I have been past Little Mearley Hall many times and point out the windows supposedly taken from Sawley Abbey after the dissolution. I warn JD about the tied up dog that will surprise us round the side of the barn, yes he is still there today but seems to have lost his bark. The farmer is busy planting new mixed hedging along the way, they have grubbed up so much in the past..

The walk now follows for a mile or so a line of farms scattered at the foot of Pendle, Angram Green, Moorside, Barkerfield and Hookcliffe, all looking ancient and steeped in Lancashire’s countryside. As always with JD the conversation is stimulating and far reaching. We are making good time without stopping as I want to delver him home to help his wife with the grandchildren after school.

Cutting across fields towards another reef knoll the guide mentions a barn at Gerna a strange name for these parts, ?Nordic. The farm itself has been gentrified.

Soon we are following the lively beck back into Downham, the cottages here having the water run under there front entrances.

That’s been a quick walk for me, just two hours for the five miles which bodes well for my rehabilitation into longer trips, of which I have a few in mind.

Here’s a few snaps to give you a flavour of the area and maybe entice you to Downham for this enjoyable walk.

Pretty Downham cottage.

Worsaw Hill.

The ‘Jesus’ barn.

Disappearing bridge over Worston Beck.

Hazy view down the Ribble Valley. Kemple End, Beacon Fell and Parlick.

JD hoping we don’t have to go all the way up Pendle.

Little Mearley Hall with the Sawley windows to the left.

A little disinterested today.

Good to see hundreds of mixed hedging plants going in.

Don’t follow your satnav, they were soon coming back.

Diversifying into paper cups.

More limestone knolls below Pendle, and Rad Brook.

Downham Beck.

Another pretty Downham cottage.

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BEYOND THE PALE, STANLEY.

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I was up here a few days ago in the frosty weather when I talked about the Leagram Deer Park. Today was all blue sky and not an icy patch to tread warily on. I’d already walked the pleasant mile along the quiet road from the site of Leagram Mill, passing some of those iconic railings sited to give visibility on the bends. Are they just a Lancashire thing? P1020856 P1020858

Now I was entering the ancient laund of Leagram. There was once an extensive deer park here in the 15 -16th centuries, l’ll come to Stanley shortly. The pale was a ditch sometimes ‘fortified’ with hawthorn hedging demarcating and protecting the deer hunting area. Parts of it can be seen on the present day estate where I am walking. From this we acquired the phrase “beyond the pale” – outside the bounds of acceptable behaviour. This how you find it with todays technology video.

Lovely parkland with Longridge Fell ‘beyond the pale’

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I walk on past the blue faced sheep and decide not to take the way to Park Gate as a tractor is muck spreading across the field. I walk on with Parlick up ahead. But I’m not heading for the high Bowland Fells, I’m going to skirt around under them on the track to Lickhurst. P1020892 P1020897 P1020899

First I stop to buy half a dozen free range eggs from the lane that leads to Saddle End Farm. P1020901

The Public Road ends short of the lane to the isolated Burnslack and the byway heading east is open to traffic but there are warnings to potential 4X4 users. Soon I’m at the ford over Leagram Brook, now provided with large stepping stones. Onwards becomes open moor named on the map as Stanley. P1020903 P1020904 P1020906 P1020909 P1020911 P1020917

Edward Stanley, it turns out was keeper of Leagram deer park in the Royal Forest of Bowland between 1487 and 1523, and a soldier for both Henry VII and Henry VIII. The deer park died out in the C17th and the land passed into the Townley family. That’s how you inherited or were bestowed land in those days. It remained under the Townley family until 1938 when The Duchy Of Lancaster purchased much of the land.

Tipping my hat to to the duke or whoever I cross over Stanley and drop into Lickhurst. Remote farms, when I was working in the area, but now gentrified country properties made more accessible by bridges where there were previously fords. Having said that I got talking to a tradesman working on one of the properties who said they got caught out with the sudden snow and freezing conditions last week and spent two hours trying to get back up the hill to civilisation. P1020928

We are in Limestone country now, lots of coral reefs and more than one lime kiln along the way. I’m always impressed by the length of the single span stone across the brook here, now balustraded for health and safety. P1020932 P1020935 P1020939

Then there is that isolated red phone box, worth a post of its own. It is still functional but I wonder how many times it has been used in the last year. P1020941 P1020948 P1020944 P1020958 P1020953 P1020968

One of the reasons I’m here is to visit friends at Greystonely. They are in so I enjoy an excellent coffee and them we join forces for the ongoing walk. P1020969 P1020974

The bridleway down to another ford is looking worse from wear and tear, sat navs have led the unwary down this way, or rather ‘no way’. The bridleway improves past houses and eventually bring me back to my car on the road where I part company with my friends as they find another way back home.

I can repeat this walk as many times as I like – there is something special about it and the old Royal Deer Park. Here’s to Stanley.

***

Screenshot 2024-01-28 220733

Sadly a mere three weeks after my visit the lady pictured above had died of cancer of the pancreas. I still can’t believe it.

SEA SWALLOWS AND SHIPWRECKS.

19 Replies

P1020674

This may take some time to write up and to read. I completed the short cycle ride on a frosty January 18th. 2024.

How many times have I cycled down the seafront from Fleetwood to Blackpool? How many times have I later flown past, with the wind behind me, the several pieces of artwork without realising their significance? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind. A song still appropriate to the present troubles of our world and my wanderings.

Grab a coffee, relax, listen and read on.

I aim to put that right today. I have done a little research on the Cleveleys website. Over recent years the sea defence improvements at Rossall and Cleveleys have provided a wonderful promenade, a leisure amenity alongside the coast popular with walkers and cyclists. At the same time funding was secured by Wyre Council through Sea Change, a national fund designed to regenerate the coast through the Arts.

This gave rise to Cleveleys Mythic Coastline art work following the story of The Sea Swallow A children’s fairytale, written by Gareth Thompson and illustrated by Hannah McGee, it blends legends with local features. Each primary school child in Wyre was given a copy of the book in 2011. (I need to find out if any copies are still available – just this minute ordered ordered one from ABE Books.) The book tells of the epic story of land versus sea and uses old fables from this stretch of the Fylde coast with the sea swallows protecting it. A tale of an Ogre stirring up the sea with his giant paddle, threatening the waterfront community, only to be thwarted by the story’s heroine, Mary and her golden shell. Mary is granted the ability to journey to the seabed for an encounter with the sea-ogre, who covets the shell and threatens her village with inundation. I need to read the book to find out the hopefully favourable outcome. The story and pictures from the book have been the basis for the public artwork subsequently installed along the seafront.

***

To set the scene: I unload my bike as usual near the delightful ‘Welcome Home’ statue on the front at Fleetwood and pedal off in the freezing temperatures, my hands rapidly becoming numb. There are patches of ice along the promenade and the beach is frozen solid. The tide is farther out than I’ve seen it before and one can imagine the difficulties of navigating into the mouth of the Wyre and Fleetwood’s docks. Out to sea the Isle of Man ferry is heading to Heysham whilst a couple of freighters are leaving, with the back drop of Barrow, Black Coombe and the snowy Lakeland hills. P1020491

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Once past the toppling coast watchers and round Rossall Point I’m onto the new tiered promenades of Rossall’s sea defences with concrete walls showing wavy themes in relief. P1020521 P1020547 P1020543

Along here are three art installations I’ve not bothered to examine before. Each one consists of three slender arching columns, grass-like, decorated with a floral theme. Ragwort, Sea Holly and Sea Spurrey and their animal dependents, Cinnabar Moth, Red Tailed Buff Bee and Common Toad respectively. I can find little information on them, but obviously, they reflect coastal species. They are sited at access points to the beach for maximum impact; perhaps they are marker posts between here and Cleveleys. P1020529

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It was along here that Sea Swallows started appearing in the back wall and, at the end an impressive larger relief featuring Mary. P1020575 P1020581 P1020578 I now realise there was another Mary ‘panel’ at the start of the wall farther back – it gives me an excuse to have another leisurely exploration.

The main installations of the Mythic Coast are from the storybook – The Shell, The Ogre, The Ogre’s Paddle and The Sea Swallow, and the nearby Shipwreck Memorial. They have all been put together by artists and designers from Broadbent Studio.

First up was Mary’s Shell, a large piece of spiralling metal in a shell shape on the Cleveley beach below the café. Looking through it at low tide is the sea; at high tide, it becomes completely submerged. The complex Conch shell was made from stainless steel in Ulverston, with a blast finish and weighs in at 17 tons. Today, the tide was out, and I could have, should have, gone down the steps to come up close, but with the bike in tow, I was content to view from the promenade.

The Ogre is easily missed alongside the boulder groyne just south of the Shell. It is in fact a boulder carved to represent the crouching giant. He was hand carved from a single fifteen ton block of limestone by the stonemason Adrian Wright and fittingly submerged for a lot of the time. Today, I was lucky, and he was plain for all to see. Again, I should have gone down onto the beach for a closer look, but as I said a good excuse to return.

Can you spot him?

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The Ogre’s Paddle is on the higher promenade, unceremoniously in front of the cinemas and gym. The paddle was constructed in purple heart wood from South America, carved with decorations and text from the story by the woodcarver John Merrill.

“the Sea Ogre’s paddle drifted up to lie on the muddy sand like some strange offering” P1020625 P1020633 P1020628 P1020635

The Sea Swallow monument is right in the middle of the promenade. A 10m tall sculpture, its shape inspired by the feel of a book coming to life and the swallows flying out of it.. The swallows are the town’s protectors, and I now realise are representative of Sea Terns. Just look at that blue sky.

“This feature acts as a visual beacon to draw people from the town centre to the seafront” . The granite was supplied by Hardscape, and the aluminium structure fabricated and installed by Chris Brammall Ltd. of Cumbria. P1020657 P1020653 P1020680

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‘For at night they stand together on the sea wall, as if protecting the town with their great white wings.’

Illustrations from the book have been carved and blasted into the granite base of the sculpture. “maybe somewhere along the coast, the shell waits for someone to find it again”

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You may have noticed everything is curvy (wavy) on Cleveleys promenade, often practically to soften the force of the waves but more of an ongoing architectural statement. I think it works quite well. P1020713

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The last piece, the Shipwreck Memorial, stands proudly on the Cleveleys Promenade. A huge piece of iron, 15mm thick, laser cut with the names of lost vessels. It stands 4.5m tall against the sky, supported by two huge solid pieces of timber. The metalwork is slowly rusting, as would have the sunken ships.

It acts as a memorial to all known ships lost along the Fylde since 1643. It is positioned on the promenade at Cleveleys, adjacent to the site of the most recently lost ship – The Riverdance, which ran aground in 2008 and became a tourist attraction as it slowly lost its cargo and was subsequently dismantled. In the same area the wooden ribs of The Abana, sunk in 1894, still show up at low tide. Apparently, they can be seen through the disc in the memorial, I should have looked more carefully.

On the wooden supports are a couple of panels listing all the ships with more information about their wrecking. A sobering list, a huge graveyard of over 200, The first listed as Unidentified, wrecked near Fleetwood in 1643 having run aground after being set on fire by Loyalists in the Civil War. In more modern times, the Trawler industry suffered disproportionately. A full list of wrecks has been transcribed onto a page on the Cleveleys website.

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A final installation – Coloured Sea Swallows, cast in resin, was planned to sit along the seawall on the Cleveleys promenade. They have been temporarily removed following the unfortunate theft of several of them, and are awaiting re-siting.

Historical picture.

The Shipwreck Memorial stands on the border between Wyre (Cleveleys) and Blackpool. I’ve gone as far as I want today; it’s time to head back.

But first I stop to watch some activity on the beach. They are building more stone groynes to prevent potentially dangerous deep-side channels from developing across the beach. Blocks of stone, Granite from Shap and Limestone from Carnforth, have been ‘dumped’ on the beach. Concrete ramps to allow access along the beach have been built, and they are now starting to carefully place the boulders at right angles to the prom, forming the groynes. Each block weighs between 3 and 8 tons; anything lighter would get washed away in storms.

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Needless to say, I haven’t seen any Sea Swallows but a cheeky Starling joined me for some lunch. P1020722

Thanks for sticking with me. Maybe listen to Bob again.

***

Screenshot 2024-01-22 201906

HALF A TOLKIEN.

15 Replies

P1020803

The Tolkien Trail website has – “Tolkien Trail famous ‘Middle Earth’ walk: People come from all over the world to walk the famous Tolkien Trail. To follow in the footsteps of J.R.R. Tolkien himself, for seven and a half miles, and see how he was inspired by the beautiful landscape of Lancashire. Immerse yourself in this wonderful part of the countryside.” That may be so but we didn’t meet another soul today from any part of the world.

I was never into fantasy fiction but I love the scenic Ribble Valley for its own sake. That is why I keep coming back to walks around Hurst Green and the Rivers Hodder and Ribble. So here we are again, in Hurst Green on a quiet Friday morning, with the temperature hovering around zero. Mike is always on the lookout for easy walks of about 4 miles suitable for his walking group, preferably starting at and finishing at a pub. This is my latest suggestion. We are parked outside the Bailey Arms, presently unoccupied, but the thriving Shireburn Arms is only a stone’s throw away. We follow lanes out of the village towards Stonyhurst College, through its grounds down to the River Ribble where we pick up the Tolkien Trail back to Hurst Green. A pleasant varied 4 miles.

Here are a few pictures…

Will they ever reopen?

Alms Houses, worth a picture every time.

The spooky cemetery.

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The Statue of Our Lady, Mary, also known as ‘Our Lady of the Avenue’ was installed in 1882.

The iconic college view.

A winter’s scene.

What is this tree with all the low untidy growth?

Imposing! How much per term these days?

St. Peter’s.

Exploring off-piste. The former Fives Courts. There are not many left in the country, due for renovation.

And a house for bats next door.

Down past Cross Gill Farm towards the river.

A snowy Pendle dominates the Ribble Valley.

The elusive historic cross.

Hobbit Hill, a ‘bespoke wedding venue’ cashing in on the Tolkien theme.

On the Trail.

Reused Astro turf – lovely to walk on, every trail should be carpeted with it.

The Victorian aqueduct bridge.

The deep ravine below Hurst Green.

A lot of work has gone into the trail recently, this was an eroded mess before.

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Top class.

***

Screenshot 2024-01-19 184623

“GAN CANNY”.

18 Replies

P1020361

As I walked gingerly along the icy lane the gentleman coming the other way greeted me with “gan canny“, not an expression often heard in Lancashire. He was just as surprised when I responded automatically with “wye aye man“. Two northeasterners meeting on a frosty day, both walking like penguins on the ice.

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I was out for a walk from home, not wanting to drive unnecessarily on the frozen roads even though some of the snow has melted. I chose to do another circuit of my ‘Around Longridge Walk’. Friends have asked for a detailed description so I was tying up loose ends for the definitive. Let me know if you want a copy. As I’ve mentioned before, the walk has metamorphized into a longer circuit to keep it as rural rural as possible whilst avoiding the new housing developments. This worked well today as the fields were safer to walk on than the icy pavements and lanes. An added bonus at this time of year is that the cattle are safely tucked up in their barns and that the boggy sections are frozen over, well almost. P1020443

I didn’t get going till lunchtime and by the time I was finishing the seven and a half mile (12k) circuit the sun was setting. Home to a hot bath and a mince pie with a glass of Laphroaig, left over from Christmas. Hopefully that is the end of the seasonal excesses. P1020467

Whilst on the subject of icy roads, two conversations this week with lady workers in one of our local supermarkets had me thinking. They both were worrying about their evening journey home by car. The roads had been like ice rinks in the early morning and they had seen several minor bumps whilst driving in. Yet they both lived within a mile of work and had probably not even thought of walking there instead of using the car. How many others are doing the same, all those children driven a short distance to school every day. Never mind the dicey roads at this time of year what about a change of thought on car usage for short distances for the rest of the year. Our roads are clogged and our children are becoming obese. Or am I too late to the party to even suggest this? The environment and healthy living seem to bypass most of the population.

There were several examples on the dangers of winter driving along my way.

A notorious local bend.

Oh! and just to lighten the mood a distant photo of an icy Pendle, one of the many sights to be seen around Longridge. P1020415

Gan canny.

GLASSON FOR COFFEE, COME HELL OR HIGH WATER.

21 Replies

20240110_125200

I nearly didn’t make it. But here I am with my cheese and onion slice and a hot coffee watching the world go by.

Glasson Dock is quiet today, very few people about which is unusual. The lady in the shop/café says things have been ‘dead’ since the New Year. A few workmen from the docks, people visiting the Smokehouse, the occasional dog walker. But as I say it is virtually a ghost town, not even the motorcyclists have braved the cold dull day.

The harbour basin is still empty though cranes have arrived to repair the outer sea gates. I wonder how this has affected the ports diminishing trade. No sign of the The Victoria Inn reopening. I’ve just learnt there used to be another pub on the harbour front – The Caribou, possibly the oldest property in Glasson. One day I should give the Dalton Arms pub round the corner another chance, it seems to have improved with better reviews. But today I’m content with my coffee.

One good piece of news is that the Port of Lancaster Smokehouse have managed to open their modern shop on the quayside right next to the café. I wander in to have a look around – they have a wide selection of their own wood smoked products and lots of deli type delights from mainly local suppliers. I come away with some smoked mackerel as a present for friends I hope to visit later in the day. 20240110_130251

***

But first I have to cycle back to Halton by the Lune where my day had started. 20240110_113147

Last time I headed for Glasson from here on my bike in December I was thwarted by a puncture. That other episode when I demolished my car’s tailgate occurred after a Glasson Cycle ride. Last winter I couldn’t get through floods and ended up with very wet lower limbs when I dismounted and retreated for safety. The story and pictures are here.

Was Glasson becoming my ‘bête noire’?

I almost didn’t make it today.

The old railway out of Lancaster makes a perfect cycle way alongside the Lune all the way to Glasson. I rarely cycle on roads now so I treasure the safer off road experience. All is going well through the city. my replacement inner tube holding up well. Once out of the industrial area one is suddenly in open countryside. Bird watchers are focused on hundreds of geese in a nearby field, all is drained land either side of the way. I pass a couple of walkers with a brief chat and head straight on. But is that another flood ahead? It stopped raining a few days ago so I wasn’t expecting any problems. Exactly the same spot where I came to grief last winter. But surely it can’t be very deep. I ride into it, crushing the ice as I go. Things then become a little scary, the water deepens and the ice has my wheels slipping sideways. De-ja-vue. I gingerly dismount and turn around after maybe 20 yards. My way to Glasson is blocked, but wet feet are luckily my only problem. 20240110_133629 20240110_133742

Calling it a day I cycle back along the lane to meet up with the two walkers once again. They had been closely following my progress into the water before proceeding farther themselves. We agree it is impossible to get through. But what is this right by them? A small track goes into the undergrowth and continues along slightly above the flooded lane. I had not noticed this last time. In fact the narrow path is probably on the actual line of the railway embankment, the lower flooded lane a more recent addition. 20240110_133111

We walk along together, they are wanting to get to the Canal and go back to Lancaster. The water down to the right is now a lake of considerable size and depth, turning round was a wise decision. This way has been used before for exactly the same purpose as ours today. We are rewarded after 500m, rejoining the lane where it goes up to Aldcliffe. They to the canal and I thankfully onwards for that coffee in Glasson. 20240110_125135

***

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WHO WAS NICKY? WE CLIMB HIS NOOK.

12 Replies

P1020269

A very popular climb from Scorton on the edge of the Bowland Fells. I never get bored of this little fell. How many times have I been up it? See here, there and everywhere.

But where has the name come from? Who was Nicky? No amount of internet searching gives any clue, locals don’t seem to have any idea either. Any suggestions?

A nook is “a small quiet place or corner that is sheltered or hidden from other people” That’s not the case up here any more, there is nearly always a steady stream of people walking up the steep steps from Wyresdale. They don’t know any better as there are far pleasanter ways to reach the modest summit from more roundabout ways. JD and I followed one of these to the top today.

The side road I normally park on was closed due to works, but there was plenty of space on the main road into Scorton. The ‘works’ didn’t progress much whilst we were out for the day. How much local authority funds are wasted for the lack of adequate overseeing? Too many questions today.

We left the lane at the inviting Wyre Way signs. I blamed the low winter sun for our almost blind wanderings over only just frozen fields. There was certainly one point where a new fence across the line of the right of way was lacking a stile, (GPS defines these spots accurately, note to Lancs Highways Authority sent) The onward haphazard wanderings however were all my fault. We found ourselves, don’t ask me how, in a bare harvested maize field which had the appearance of a pheasant shoot. I was concerned it could become a peasant shoot if we didn’t find a way out. The road was just across the other side of the hedge but we couldn’t find a gate. I suggested we swallowed our pride and retreat back to the right of way. But no, JD is sometimes more persistent, obstinate and intrepid than even I. He is to be seen escaping from Colditz. P1020276 P1020280

Regrouped we soon left the lane onto the bridleway up into the woods of Grize Dale. We were not the only ones, a large shooting party were just setting off into undergrowth to kill a few pheasants. (Is this activity exclusively male I wonder?) Fortunately we were well on our way before the shots ran out, would have been a shame to spoil the day. The rhododendrons are taking over on this side of the fell. P1020286 P1020289 P1020283 P1020290

The reservoir seemed fuller than usual, but that was no surprise after all the rain in December. Today was all blue sky, the feel like temperature in the brisk easterly was well below zero. More to come this next week, no more rain in the foreseeable future. But as we live in the northwest we will wait and see. P1020293

I took JD on the long way round to find the easier graded ascent of Nicky, as you can see from my map. That surveying pillar guided us upwards but it was a false siren, the true summit was still some way up the hill. The shining white trig point was soon reached along with many others coming the other way, all well wrapped up against the wind, and their dogs. Only 215m but a view all around. The outlying Bowland Fells behind us, the Fylde below us and the motorway heading up to Lancaster and the more distant Lakes. It is said you can see from the Great Orme to The Isle of Man. P1020297 P1020302 P1020306

The onward path, previously eroded and muddy, has been upgraded with chippings and soon we are back in the valley. Is Applestore café closed on Tuesdays? Maybe we missed a chance there. I was pleased to find the public footpath around Snow Hill barn is still passable and possibly improved. It took us into woods above a very steep drop into the brook. Escape was possible over a wooden footbridge. JD noticed the original stone slab bridge below, it was still intact, if a little narrow. Obviously Health and Safety have been in play. P1020303 P1020311 P1020312 P1020320 P1020318

The parking was busier now in early afternoon opposite that iconic, seen from the M6, church steeple. What a lovely little round and we were back for tea.

***

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A CHILLY CHIPPING.

12 Replies

P1020238

This is not the day I had intended. The weather, is it really only the English who are obsessed about the weather? has at last changed from that dreadful rain to frost and sun for the next few days. I was ready for it. Spent time yesterday replacing a punctured inner tube with a brand new one. Cycling gear donned this morning – Glasson here I come. Not so fast laddie, the tyre has deflated overnight. I hadn’t the will to start again with the wheel, it is always the awkward back one. The bike is unceremoniously dumped back in to the garage for another time and I head in for an extra coffee.

Surely I can’t waste another day, I have missed too many this holiday season either from the persistent gloom affecting the weather and my mood.

My usual short winter walk from Chipping is on the lanes circling Leagram Hall. I love the approach up the drive with the prominent oaks, alas some have gone missing in the last few years’ storms. The snowdrops will soon be making an appearance in that copse over the wall. This land was once a Royal deer park in Medieval times. Names on the map, Laund Farm, Park Gate and Pale Farm, bear reference to its origins and there is an interpretation board telling me all. The background is Longridge Fell and Pendle. Now sheep are the main source of meat. P1020223 P1020224 P1020231

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The lane is quite slippy in parts where the overnight frost persists, the air temperature is just above zero but as there is no wind feels pleasant enough. More than pleasant really with the sun shining, a perfect Winter’s afternoon for walking. And the good citizens of Chipping are making the most of it – a steady stream of friendly walkers encountered all the way around.

I’m heading towards the hills, Parlick, Fairsnape and Wolf Fell, but then skirt round the base of them before dropping down to the site of Wolfen Mill. This was a water powered mill built in the 16th Century. Historically the mill made spindles and bobbins for the local spinning mills, closing production in the 1920’s. All changed now with luxury holiday accommodation. P1020239 P1020243 P1020245 P1020240

I walk down the lane above the tumbling Chipping Brook, which powered Wolfen Mill and several more down its course through the village. Kirk Mill, originally cotton spinning, being the largest My very last picture shows a waterwheel which was restored several years ago at a property in the centre of the village. P1020246 P1020248

I take a signed but rather enclosed footpath on the outskirts of the village which brings me down a lane of houses, Broad Meadow. Friends lived here in the late C20th years, both deceased now, a trip down memory lane. A lot of the old properties from the C17th in Chipping are listed and the quaint streets and pubs are popular with visitors. I’ve written about them many times before. Slowly newer housing is encircling the village but the heart remains the same. P1020254 P1020258 P1020260 P1020261 P1020268

A simple stroll on good surfaces with plenty of interest which I highly recommend to local readers. Ideal for families.

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BRING ON THE NEW.

15 Replies

Continue reading →

BLOGLIFE. PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE.

27 Replies

I have enjoyed the year reading all of your adventures. The Lakes, Silverdale, Rivington, Ribble Valley, the Thames Valley, Cheshire, even Manchester, the US of A, Coastal ways, Northumberland. I hold them all dear.

Castles, boutique hotels, camping pods and caravans, village inns, tents in remote places, wild water swimming. You have planned your explorations carefully.

Books to read, towns to visit, art to find, food to relish, music for my ears.

Nature in abundance, history documented, environmental comments and political asides.

I’ve enjoyed them all. Thank you. Sorry mine have been limited in response.

What’s next on the horizon? I look forward to your posts appearing in my inbox. Ignore the endless boring and predictable YouTube contents, the obvious uncomfortable selfies and forgettable Facebook pages. No I rely on your intellectual input to keep me sane, grounded and stimulated. ‘Anonymous’ yet a real group of people sharing their thoughts, interests, desires and images. WordPress or Blogger are your platform. You know who you are. Thank you.

Here’s to an illuminating 2024.

THE FESTIVE SEASON.

8 Replies

P1020097

I’ve been up the fell, as usual, this time hoping to get a festive shot for you. I failed. Maybe JD should have worn a Santa hat. We missed that photo opportunity.

It turned out to be a better day than we had envisaged. I promised sunshine all day, but the morning started misty and damp. Our first phone conversation at 9.30 am ended by “let’s speak again at 10.30” Time for another coffee in bed for me and time for him to complete the Times Cryptic Crossword in record time. By 10.30 there was blue in the sky, at least at my end of Longridge. He can see the Bowland Fells from his house and said they were clearing.

We drove up to the parking at Intack. There were lots of cars on the road side. We settled for the rough spot above Crowshaw Quarry, no climbing today in the greasy conditions. A large pile of retrieved doggy bags by the gate greeted us, lovely. At least somebody, I imagine the foresters, are collecting them for later disposal. Let’s not get bogged down with environmental problems – it is the season of good will. My good will extended to the half dozen dog walkers (all dogs are innocent) we passed in the first half mile, after that we never met a soul.

We left the main track to get us to the modest trig point, but what a view as we crested the ridge and peered down into Chipping Vale with the Bowland Hills stately in the background. OK we encountered a bit of mud on the way. The last time we attempted to follow the ridge eastwards fallen trees were a problem. (I can’t remember the name of the storm) They still are, be prepared to take lots of diversions in the forest. Blue dots have appeared intermittently on trees showing a way of sorts.

Eventually we emerged from the trees onto the forest road. It was good to see that this has now been reopened and the the timber cut up ready for collection. Easy walking took us around the loop before plunging down the little path through new growth, more Christmas Trees than you could imagine. The beech wood was looking a bit bedraggled with recent topplings and decay which had me hunting down fungi once more. P1020100 P1020099 P1020101 P1020104

As we strolled back along the road clouds were coming in – we had had our window of sunshine. The forecast is poor to say the least so I don’t think I will be out much before Christmas therefore …

All the very best to anyone reading and here’s to a more peaceful 2024.

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FAR BLEASDALE.

8 Replies

My lethargy of the other day cycling around the Bay was compounded the next day on a cycle ride to Glasson Dock. The back tyre finally deflating completely and despite frequent stops to pump it up the journey back was tedious and tiring. The repair can wait for another day – I’m going walking today.

I have Bleasdale tagged, and I see I have posted getting on for 50 times with it included. A number of those posts will have involved the surrounding fells – Bleasdale Moors, Hazelhurst, Fairsnape and Parlick – a perfect horseshoe enclosing the lower pastures and the scattered properties on the estate. The roads through the estate are private but pedestrian access is possible by the numerous rights of way. One of the reasons the area is high on my popularity list is that the tracks on a whole give good dry walking even in the worst of weathers and yet you feel you are out in the hills without stepping foot on them.

I was here at the end of October for a Sunday stroll. On that occasion I kept to the tracks to the East under Fairsnape and Parlick. The most visited by virtue of its church, school and the Bronze Age circle. Today I took advantage of the tracks to the West passing Bleasdale Tower to the road over to Oakenclough. They kept my feet dry and reached a height of 230 m with views over the Fylde and Pennines. ‘Far Bleasdale’ is a term I have invented for this walk of only 4 miles.

Along the road signs are that farmers are diversifying.

As you can see it wasn’t a day for photography.

Fairsnape and Parlick.

Beacon Fell.

Towards Bleasdale Moors.

There were few splashes of colour.

I was soon on the higher track with its views to the south and then down the road to my car.

A pleasant way to spend a quiet couple of hours amidst all the Christmas clamour.

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS.

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I have been visiting Morecambe on my ‘off road’ cycle rides for some time now, there is a good network of cycle paths in the Lancaster area. And that is where I am, the only choice – clockwise or anticlockwise? A tossed coin determines my day, simple enough.
Lethargy sets in from the word go – I’ve not been on my bike since that unfortunate episode back at the end of August. It took two months to get my car repaired. My bike has sat in the garage for three months, I gave the front wheel some more air but think the back is OK. I capitulate early on and walk up the ramp to the canal aqueduct. Even on the flat I am struggling to keep up a decent pace and I am very wary of the narrower sections of the towpath under bridges. The water looks very cold. I realise my back wheel is taking the bumps badly, yes it is underinflated. I press on even though I know I should maybe give it some assistance with the hand pump. I’m too lazy to bother. Anyhow the sun is shining and there are few people about, let’s just get on with it. Where have all the ducks gone?
Soon I am on the famous promenade stretching ahead of me for four or five miles. The tide is in and the water lapping up to the sea defences. With the sun shining the cluster of boats, usually seen floundering in the mud, give the impression of a Mediterranean bay. 20231213_121415

As I near the Midland I can here a bell chiming, I instantly know where it is coming from – the Time and Tide Bell on the Stone Jetty. One of several around the coast of Britain. I have documented this bell before and photographed it at different states of the tide, but this is the first time I have heard its ghostly sounds. Makes me think of shipwrecks and sea sirens from the deep. I get up close and feel the vibrations, I try a video just for the sound but of course the wind noise always intrudes. That is why on the telly the reporters have those big fuzzy mikes dangled in front of them.

A couple of ladies walk by. “It must be 12 o’clock the bell is chiming” “No I think you will find it keeps on chiming” says the other.
I must make the effort one day and dine in the Art Nouveau Rotunda of the Midland. Today I just cycle by and eat a banana on a promenade bench. The sea is perfectly calm.

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I’m always a little wary of a short section of the cycle path past the station and down a dingy alley. I have had a near miss assault there in the past by dodgy characters. Today it is blocked by council workers clearing the ditches and they tell me there is no way through. They agree about the potential danger and explain there are no cameras on that section, a situation easily solved with little cash funding. Anyhow I follow their suggested diversion, which with the aid of my phone’s maps, brings me back onto the cycleway past their work and more importantly past the dodgy section. Thanks for that, I will keep using it in future.
My progress becomes laboured as I pedal the old railway back into Lancaster, over the rattly Millennium Bridge and on alongside the Lune to Halton. 20231213_132515

My arrival at the car park coincides with the Lancaster University’s rowing club’s Christmas festivities. I hope they all survived their river escapades, I am sure health and safety will keep an eye on the students more than in my day.

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I should have pumped my tyre up way back when. Stubbornness or laziness? More likely stupidity. I was knackered at the end – I thought the bell was tolling for me.

A GREY DAY.

19 Replies

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Colours grey pervade

In mist footsteps disappear

today on the fell

The last time I wrote about the colour grey in fifty shades my blog had more than the usual visits, most of them disappointed never to return. My attempt on a Haiku will put off the rest.

I don’t know why I went up the fell today, all was mist but there was something warm in the air. Or at least there was in the afternoon after I had roused myself from a strange overlong sleep. I had had no real exercise since that magic day on Ilkley Fell last week. Though occasions spent catching up with friends and family had been worthwhile. There is only so much time one can spend writing Christmas cards and thinking of presents. I had put up my decorations – well an artificial tree in the porch and a home made wreath on the door, that will have to do. Time for a walk.

No cloud inversion today. The mist stayed with me all the way up, but mist has no threat to me on home ground. Familiar paths were running with water. Not ideal you may think but I was enjoying myself, I had time to wonder why. There were no views but I was still able to see the valley, Pendle and the Three Peaks in my mind’s eye, an ideal day for recollecting scenes. Vivid for me but not for strangers.

A friend I met, there were only the two of us up there, at least had an excuse for being out – his lively terrier’s daily exercise. Yes it also fulfilled my erratic daily exercise, I’m not counting steps on my phone. Have you ever looked at what they are tracking when you open up your life to Google et al?

With landmarks coming and going out of the mist the fell looked mountainous at times. Water was running down most of the tracks and the boggy areas were treacherous. There was some colour at the ‘Longridge Fell Christmas Tree’ I am not sure about all that plastic glitter on the fell although I must say that last year its originator cleared all away by 12th night.

I didn’t stop long at the trig. I took my usual diversion on the way back and was surprised too see two large trees blocking the path. They hadn’t been here a couple of weeks ago, must have come down in recent gales. Scary. The light in the tunnel was even darker than usual.

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Mine was the only car back at the road and I hadn’t answered why I do it.

By now the sky showed promise of better things.

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bowlandclimber

Walks and climbs

Tag Archives: Lancashire

BELOW PENDLE AGAIN.

GRUNSAGILL.

RIMINGTON – ‘Time flies swiftly away’.

STRANGE LITTER.

BASHALL EAVES CIRCULAR.

A YEAR ON THE FELL.

IN THE SHADOW OF PENDLE.

BEYOND THE PALE, STANLEY.

SEA SWALLOWS AND SHIPWRECKS.

HALF A TOLKIEN.

“GAN CANNY”.

GLASSON FOR COFFEE, COME HELL OR HIGH WATER.

WHO WAS NICKY? WE CLIMB HIS NOOK.

A CHILLY CHIPPING.

BRING ON THE NEW.

BLOGLIFE. PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE.

THE FESTIVE SEASON.

FAR BLEASDALE.

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS.

A GREY DAY.