Tag Archives: Ribble Valley

WALKING OFF SAD – NEEDS MUST.

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Introduction…
Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is a type of depression that comes and goes in a seasonal pattern.
SAD is sometimes known as “winter depression” because the symptoms are more apparent and tend to be more severe during the winter. The symptoms often begin in the autumn as the days start getting shorter. They’re typically most severe during December, January and February.

Symptoms of SAD can include:

  • a loss of pleasure or interest in normal everyday activities
  • irritability
  • a persistent low mood
  • feelings of despair, guilt and worthlessness
  • feeling lethargic (lacking in energy) and sleepy during the day
  • sleeping for longer than normal and finding it hard to get up in the morning
  • craving carbohydrates and gaining weight.
The exact cause of SAD isn’t fully understood, but it’s often linked to reduced exposure to sunlight during the shorter autumn and winter days. The main theory is that a lack of sunlight might stop a part of the brain called the hypothalamus working properly, which may affect the:
  • production of melatonin – melatonin is a hormone that makes you feel sleepy; in people with SAD, the body may produce it in higher than normal levels
  • production of serotonin – serotonin is a hormone that affects your mood, appetite and sleep; a lack of sunlight may lead to lower serotonin levels, which is linked to feelings of depression
  • body’s internal clock (circadian rhythm) – your body uses sunlight to time various important functions, such as when you wake up, so lower light levels during the winter may disrupt your body clock and lead to symptoms of SAD.                                                                                             

  •   Treatments for SAD

  • lifestyle measures – including getting as much natural sunlight as possible, exercising regularly and managing your stress levels
  • light therapy – where a special lamp called a light box is used to simulate exposure to sunlight
  • talking therapies – such as therapy.
  • antidepressant medication.
      from  nhs.uk

 

Why am I telling you all this – well most winters I disappear to sunnier climes as I’ve found over the years that it prevents all of the above. As well as the improved climate I am usually involved in some semi-challenging walk giving me loads of exercise. This year I’ve been grounded because of my hip problems brought on by excessive exercise. Recent posts will have shown how I’ve partially dealt with it, sorry for the maudlin tone to those. Why don’t I just go abroad for a couple of weeks you say – well I’m not good at ‘lazy’ holidays by the pool, would probably just eat and drink too much.

Thus I’m still battling on, physio next week. So when the sun shone this morning I needed to get out. Luckily JD, of GR131 fame, phoned and within 30 mins I was at his house with a plan to do a relatively easy walk to Ribchester and catch the bus back. Off we went with bus passes at the ready.

The watery sun shone, as planned, whilst we walked past the extensive Longridge reservoirs.

The stroll down the quiet Hothersall Lane was a pleasure, as it warmed up I could feel all that lovely Serotonin fighting off the nasty Melatonin. The usual  juxtaposition of irreverent [me] and intellectual conversation [JD] bowled us along and soon we were dropping down the steep escarpment to Hothersall Lodge an outdoor centre run by Lancs County Council. Nobody was about but signs of activity were everywhere, climbing wall, zip wire, grounded canoes, archery ranges, nature walks etc. A great place to introduce people to the outdoors. We were now following the Ribble Way, a flawed route due to private fishing interests unnecessarily diverting the path higher up stream.

Further on was Hothersall Hall, a Gothic style building refurbished and providing privileged accommodation to some persons.  I tried in vain to relocate the Hothersall Boggart – a slightly grotesque stone head in the fork of a tree with associated legends. No luck today but I know its there somewhere.

All was going well with the walking until now, a good surface and fairly flat going. I had forgotten the little hill to be crossed on muddy fields – it was not a pretty sight as I struggled to cope with the terrain. Thankfully I’d brought my tracking poles, not to be separated from them these days. There were good views down to the River Ribble.

That hill!.

 

We had time to look across the Ribble to the extensive Osbaldeston Hall on the south bank. A path led off towards it and presumably some ancient ford crossing. JD remembered wading the river here on some previous walk but not today thank you.After that it was a stroll to walk into Ribchester, were we on a Roman Road?

Eschewing the Roman artifacts and other attractions of the village we headed past the now closed White Bull with its ‘Roman columns’ to the friendly Black Bull where we enjoyed a quick slurp of Bowland Brewery’s Buster before catching the rattly bus to Longridge.

Needs must so SAD can SOD off.  I’ve plans for the next week or so if the weather is good.

 

LONGRIDGE FELL – YET AGAIN.

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I had no sooner booked a trip to the Canary Islands, to get away from our dismal weather, when the temperature here shot up and the sun was shining. Will it last? Better get out, make the most of it and do a bit of training. Now when I say training I mean go for a short walk. I chose Longridge Fell again as I was hoping for clear views, but which way up?  It is so easy to park up near Cardwell House but I decided to reverse my usual routes for variety. This turned out to be quite different and not entirely successful, for some reason my anti clockwise circuit was strangely unbalanced. I couldn’t really say why – the wrong views, the wrong gradients, the wrong approach.

So what was new today, apart from the sunny weather?  There has been a lot of timber extraction on the fell in the last few years, partly due to the Ramorum fungus and also with maturity. Interestingly I’ve spent a few days recently cutting down a Blue Spruce in my garden. It suddenly lost all its needles a couple of years ago and has not recovered. Spruces are susceptible to the disease and I wonder whether I brought it back from the fell on my boots. The tracks on the fell have been improved to take the heavy machines and lorries involved. They only need to quarry superficially into the fellside to obtain  hardcore for the tracks. I had just passed one of these quarries when I came across a lorry and trailer being loaded with cut timber. It looked a slick operation.

Distant Pendle Hill.

Ready made hardcore quarry.

Smaller tracks took me to the top and the views were clearer than the other day, the Yorkshire Three Peaks were prominent and across Chipping Vale the Bowland Fells distinct. On my way down the ‘balcony’ path I started to meet people coming up from the now busy carpark.

A good 5.5 miles. I was home for lunch.

 

LONGRIDGE FELL – UP AND DOWN DUDDEL BROOK FROM RIBCHESTER.

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Oh, The grand old Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men;
He marched them up to the top of the hill,
And he marched them down again.

And when they were up, they were up,
And when they were down, they were down,
And when they were only half-way up,
They were neither up nor down.

Today’s walk followed that futile theme and the rhyme filled my head.

Duddel Brook rises quite high on the southern slopes of Longridge Fell and reaches the Ribble in Ribchester. This Brook has carved its way down the hill and created a wooded valley [seen on the OS map as a green caterpillar] for the most part secretive. The other obvious stream is Dean Brook passing through Hurst Green. Their importance in the past was related to the many small mills powered by the rushing waters and hence they are worthy of exploration today.

From near the Roman Museum in Ribchester, I set off along the Ribble to where the Duddel Brook issues close to a Roman bathhouse whose outline has been excavated. Normally field paths from Stone Bridge would lead across to Gallows Lane but at the moment they are virtually flooded so I followed the main road before turning up the Lane. A mullioned cottage at Lower Dutton is outstanding. I gained access to the brook a little higher and wandered through the beech woods alongside the water. An old mill appeared with signs of a mill race, lodge and ruined wheel installations. I believe that bobbin making was the main industry here but I may be wrong. Above the deep valley there was a brief view of Dutton Hall a prominent C17 house with a commanding aspect over the Ribble Valley. I crossed the brook on bridges and eventually deep in the valley recrossed by a shallow ford.

Start and finish – Duddel Brook entering the Ribble.

Roman Bath House.

Dutton Hall.
Wikipedia.

The path climbed away from the stream into fields. A lone oak tree, perhaps 300yrs old, was a waymarker across the field. On the road a small wholesale unit purveyed vitamins as well as ‘sweets’, I didn’t 

only half-way up – neither up nor down

  Again I took the easy drier tarmac option, walking up Huntington Hall Lane past several expensively converted houses and barns. After a steep section, Huntington Hall itself appeared on the right, a 17century house which has had a lot of money spent on it in recent years. At the road corner I was back into the fields with views back to the Ribble Valley, I meant to say this was a rare, sunny, dry day. Cresting a hill Intack Farm came into view, again a place spending lots of money with a horse arena right across the footpath but the diversion was no problem and well signed – but is it legal? A quick peep into Crowshaw Quarry showed it to be remarkably dry, could be bouldering here later this week. Crossing the road the main forest track was taken eventually leading up to the trig point on Longridge Fell. Chipping Vale and the Bowland Hills were fairly clear but that was not really today’s objective.

Huntingdon Hall.

Longridge Fell Trig Point.

when they were up, they were up

 

I came down by the track to Lennox Farm near where the Duddel Brook probably starts life.  A lane took me past Goodshaw Farm where the new lambs were being tended, the farmer told me he had 600 sheep to lamb this year and was concerned about the wet fields he was placing them into. Below the farm was an old barn, Smith Bottom, which on close inspection revealed two perfectly shaped cruck frames thus giving a clue to its medieval age. Down steeply through beech woods overgrown with rhododendrons to a bridge over our brook. This lane leads up to the highly secretive Dutton Manor in its cloak of trees.

A young Duddel Brook.

Smith Bottom cruck barn.

Trees hiding Dutton Manor.

Across the next road was Duddel Farm on its exposed hill. The farmer was feeding cattle in the barns and bemoaning the wet conditions, but despite that remained cheerful and chatty – we had many mutual friends and interests. He was right about the conditions as the next few fields leading back to Ribchester were almost afloat and the mud slowly crept above my knees.

 

I don’t normally take selfies.

I was keen to reach the last two listed buildings at Stydd. First was St. Saviours a simple C12 chapel. Its plane interior has a flagged floor with ancient gravestones, a stone coffin and wooden pulpit and rails. Very evocative. Further down the lane is Stydd Almshouse built in 1728 to house the poorest parishioners. It is an architectural gem with its central staircase and diminutive size.

St. Saviours.

So back to where I started.

when they were down, they were down

 

I would like the challenge of an entire ascent of Duddel Brook – obviously in dry summer conditions and with a good degree of so called trespassing. Watch this space.

BROCKHALL – OLD AND NEW.

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Last week I attended the annual Chris Mayo Memorial Lecture hosted by our Bowland Pennine MRT, for whom Chris had been a doctor; always a sad occasion for me. I worked with Chris and he was a good friend. At the end of January 1993 I did a long walk in the Bowland Hills with Chris as part of my preparation for climbing Mount Kenya and Mount Kilimanjaro in the next month. Whilst I was abroad, and totally unknown to me, 45year old Chris, his 15yr old son Matthew, both from Longridge, and his 40 yr old brother from Edinburgh were killed in a tragic accident in Coire an Lochan in the Cairngorms. Long shall we remember them.
I am worn out from lots of tree felling and pruning in the garden and too many sessions at the climbing walls, its too wet and wild for anything else. So I needed a short relaxing walk at the weekend. Deciding to stay low and sheltered Mike and I headed for Old Langho in the Ribble Valley to explore the area around Brockhall Village. We parked next to the 16th century St. Leonard’s Church.This little sandstone chapel built  c1557 with stones coming from the recently dissolved Whalley Abbey, on the outside are several carved features from the abbey. We were lucky that the church was open, it no longer hosts services but is maintained by the charitable Churches Conservation Trust, so were able to investigate the inside features. Walking past the entrance to Brockhall Village, more of this later, we crossed fields outside Hacking Wood to reach the lane leading to Hacking Hall a grade1 listed early 17th century property. We had distant views of the massive hall with its mullioned windows and prominent garderobe. Closer at hand was Hacking Barn an interesting early Cruck  structure. The exterior has been much modified but the interior cruck trusses are impressive, the agricultural surrounds are a mess.

St.Leonards.

St.Leonard’s.

Hacking Hall.

Hacking Hall.

Cruck barn.

Cruck barn.

We next went down to the River Ribble just where the Calder joins from the south. The path downstream was washed away in parts and even today a large volume of water was charging down to Preston. A couple of canoeists were thoroughly enjoying their rapid transit. It was near here that there was a historic 17thcentury ferry and I believe an old wooden boat was in Clitheroe Museum. The house across the river was apparently occupied by the ferryman up to the 1950s.

Ribble/Calder confluence.

Ribble/Calder confluence.

Hacking Boat House, Kemple end behind.

Hacking Boat House, Kemple End behind.

At the end of Brockhall Wood, above the turbulent water of Jumbles Rocks,  we turned ‘inland’ towards the farm and former site of Brockhall Hospital. From 1904 to 1992 this functioned as one of Europe’s largest mental institutions. On its closure [care in the community!] a property developer Gerald Hitman bought the lease and developed a gated village of 400 properties. Blackburn Rovers have their extensive training grounds here, Mr Hitman also built his own contemporary home in extensive gardens, The Old Zoo. We skirted around the youth football fields and at the first road walked up into the village. On our left was the well secured Old Zoo but we spotted a lake, a few sculptures and a beech hedge maze, it would be fascinating to look around the grounds but I don’t know who now owns the property. The streets wandered through a variety of properties, a few adapted from the hospital buildings, many newish apartments and a scattering of architect designed detached mansions. There didn’t seem to be much soul to the village, no obvious shop or pub, commuting hell or heaven? On the way out through the permanently manned barriers, to keep out the riff raff, we passed an upmarket restaurant next to the modern Rover’s training facilities.

How times have changed here.

Hospital conversion.

Hospital conversion.

Hospital cottage.

Hospital cottage.

More upmarket.

More upmarket.

Oh! for a peek.

Oh! for a peek.

Rusty Rover.

Rusty Rover.

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES WALK – Clitheroe to Slaidburn.

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The scenery changes today as we leave the Ribble Valley and climb into the Bowland Hills. Rain is forecast and its rather dull in Clitheroe. Canoeists float downstream as we cross the river at Brungerley Bridge  and a group of youngsters are on the field path learning navigation.  We soon leave them behind and cross fields around Waddington, most of the farms/barns look hundreds of years old but many have had expensive makeovers.  Looking back Pendle Hill is in cloud. The hay meadows we pass through are full of flowers and brighten up a dull day. I have a painting at home representing the same scene. As we climb onto the moor on a drove road we realise we have been here together before whilst exploring Easington Fell last winter.There are no views today in the low cloud which is a shame as this is a wild and desolate moor. On the map are marked The Wife and Old Ned but they turn out to be disappointing piles of stones. A good track, presumably shooting, takes us down the fell to a shooting lodge marked as Fell Side. Dogs are caged up and greet us excitedly. At the moment we arrive the rain starts so we are lucky to find shelter and tables outside the lodge, lunch is taken. On the approach I had stuck my walking pole under a stone and a metal trap snapped shut almost breaking it, I couldn’t imagine what it could do to fingers. What are they trying to catch? Our lunchtime was enlivened by a ‘turkey’ parading about in front of the windows. The rain stopped and we continued on our way over a hill and down into Slaidburn, usually seen with a backdrop of Bowland Fells, but not today. Our tercet was in the carpark. The village was busy hosting a small steam fair which kept us entertained for awhile though the crowds and vehicles detractied from the normal tranquility of this lovely village. Familiar paths through woods and then open fields gained height, Curlews and Lapwings became a constant sight and sound. On past a graveyard for farming implements which looked like a ‘herd’ of dinosaurs across the land. We finished the day under the Bowland Fells just before the start of Roman Road over Salter Fell. We will want better visibility for that next section.

 

 

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Catch it while you can … a Ribble Round.

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

STYLES OF STILES.

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Ancient bridleway out of Grindleton.

 

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

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

 

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

Courtesy of Conrad.

Courtesy of Conrad.

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

 

 

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

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Mellor Brook  –  Sabden.

The LDWA web site is a good source of information on potential walks. You can search in whichever area and for whatever length, maps are displayed. Looking for a two day local trek, whilst the good weather holds out, I unearthed the 26mile ‘Walk the Eastern Side of the Ribble Valley’ from Mellor Brook to Gisburn. A booklet is available from the author Trevor Headley, though I managed without it. I’ve sent off for it as I feel there will be useful information for some unanswered questions en-route.  Some of my climbing friends have gone off to Kalymnos, I declined from lack of fitness, and it was strange that I parked up almost outside one of their houses in Mellor Brook this morning.SAM_6223

I walked out on the original A59 through the village…SAM_6225 … now thankfully bypassed, and climbed back up to the village of Mellor. The village loos have been sold… Further on the way I passed the Methodist Church which has been tastefully rebuilt after the old one was demolished, probably an improvement though I can’t find pictures of the original. Next up was Mellor Moor, one of Lancashire’s best kept secrets.  At the top there are 360 degree views, well not today, of the whole region from the Lakes to Yorkshire and to Wales. Uniquely this modest hill, 223m, has a defunct Royal Observation Nuclear Blast and Fallout Monitoring Station from the cold war era . The monitoring post was opened in July 1959, and was decommissioned in October 1968. Many local people still believe that this was a nuclear shelter for the use of the  population during times of war. A millennium viewpoint pillar has been more recently erected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

zzwtesotrCapturea

I have to climb a steep hill!

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The balding Kemple End of Longridge Fell.

The balding Kemple End of Longridge Fell.

An early morning phone call – “I have to climb a steep hill!“, not exactly an emergency but  it needed a response. My friend Mark seems to be having problems with his back and hips [aren’t we all] and was under the orders of his physio.

“OK, see you soon”  was my response trying to think of a suitable steep hill. If you have ever cycled up Kemple End you will agree it is steep, and gets steeper. As a coincidence today is the start of the Tour de France and there seemed to be loads of cyclists on the roads. In a hour or so we are parked near Higher Hodder Bridge at the bottom of the said hill. Mark was pleased with his progress up the incline. Near the top we left the road on a public footpath into the fields to visit an ancient cross and recover our breath.   A quick look into Kemple End  where we have climbed together in the past and then we threaded our way down fields to reach the River Ribble.  I am reminded of my Longridge Skyline Walk which comes up this way towards it’s end after 40 hard miles.  Also every time I cross this creaky footbridge I think of my, sadly departed, climbing friend Pete, the bridge engineer extraordinary.   A short walk by the river brought us back to Higher Hodder bridge.

We talked of mice and men and arranged to meet up soon for a climb providing his physio agrees.

As I post this the sun is breaking through the mist on Longridge Fell promising a lovely morning up at Kemple.

TOLKIEN COUNTRY. Stonyhurst, Crosses and the Hodder.

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A beautiful day starts with a sharp frost, but bright and sunny again!

To keep this post topical, I had been listening to the radio about a new film on release, The Hobbit, which is sure to be a big success after The Lord of the Rings. The premier was in New Zealand where I believe some of the locations were filmed. However it is well known that  J R R Tolkien, the author, spent many days walking around the Hurst Green countryside, whilst his son was studying at Stonyhurst College. The area was said to have given him inspiration for the fantasies of Lord of the Rings.

So after lunch, I don’t know what happens to the mornings!, I set off to drive up to Kemple End on Longridge Fell to take in some of the Tolkien rambles. The road up Longridge Fell had been quite icy and tricky even after noon.

Ground frost

Parked up at Kemple End [SD 688 404] and was rewarded with views across the still misty Ribble Valley towards Pendle and Boulsworth Hill.

Distant Boulsworth Hill

Couldn’t resist a look into the quarry where there is some good climbing. A couple of Roe Deer ran off when I descended into their territory. The rock faces were dry as they always seem to be, sheltered from any prevailing weather. This quarry had provided stone for the village of Hurst Green and Stoneyhurst College.

I realised that photography today would be difficult with the low sun. One was either shooting into the sun or having your long shadow cast across the picture.

Birdy Prow

Walking through the delightful houses, that comprise the small settlement of Kemple End, I picked up a sunken track across the hillside. This was probably some constructed rail or sledge way to transport stone from the quarry down the hill.  Dropping down lanes I came into the grounds of Stoneyhurst College which one is able to traverse on public rights of way. Putting aside thoughts of the privileged classes one cannot but admire the grandeur of the place. Building started in 1523 for the Shireburn family and from 1794 the Jesuits ran it as a college. Today it is a renowned, and no doubt a very expensive, RC boarding school. Girls as well as boys now attend. The college is very proud of some of its past pupils including a certain Arthur Conan Doyle, actor Charles Laughton and Mark Thomson ex director general of the BBC.

Stoneyhurst Chapel

Stoneyhurst College

Moving on through the grounds I dropped down through fields to arrive at the Lower Hodder road bridge which is sited next to the ancient, arched, packhorse bridge over the River Hodder. This is better known as Cromwell’s Bridge as it is thought that Cromwell’s parliamentary army crossed it before defeating the King’s men at the Battle of Preston in 1648. Sorry but the picture below is poor…

Now I embarked on the delightful  path leading up river to the Higher Hodder bridge. The river was quite low as we had not had rain for a few days. Because there are few leaves left on the trees it was easier to spot the bird life. Robins, Wrens, Blackbirds, flocks of Blue and Long-tailed Tits, a flash of a Kingfisher, a nod of a Dipper and lots of Herons poising patiently above the cold waters.

The path passed  first the base of a damaged cross and then an intact relatively modern cross. These must be connected in some way to the college but I’ve been unable to discover their history. Any ideas?

The path through the woods next to the River Hodder is popular and well maintained with steps and good footbridges over side steams. Whenever I use these Lancashire County Council bridges I have to say a quick ‘hello’ to a deceased, dear, friend who worked in the bridge department of the council. He much preferred the challenge of a humble footbridge project in the countryside to being in his office.

Lancs County Council Footbridge.

Soon I was approaching Higher Hodder Bridge and the path doubles back and starts to climb in zigzags up the hillside to Kemple End. Pausing for breath gave me chance to survey the scene over the Ribble Valley towards Waddington Fell and Pendle — the changing light from the low sun was magical. This route up from the river is part of my Longridge Skyline Way [from now on LSW] which I mentioned whilst crossing Beacon Fell.

Pendle in Evening Sun from Kemple End

As there was plenty of light left I crossed over the wall by the road at Kemple End to investigate a nearby cross a couple of hundred yards away in the field. This is the so called  Paulinus Cross dating from the 7th century when St. Paulinus, Bishop of York, was supposed to have preached here on his mission [1619-1633] to convert us heathen Lancastrians  to Christianity. It is a rather strange looking cross!

Paulinus Cross

Quite a long post today, but for a short afternoon walk there was a lot to be included.

Nearby on a lane is another cross dating from 1934 with the haunting inscription — WATCH FOR YOU KNOW NOT THE DAY, NOR THE HOUR.

I’ll leave you with that thought.