Tag Archives: River Ribble

ON THAT TRAIL AGAIN.

Not all those who wander are lost. Bilbo Baggins.

Yes, you’ve guessed it, I’m on the Tolkien Trail, for the umpteenth time. I don’t think I progressed from reading The Hobbit to the Ring series, so I don’t understand all of the associations of Tolkien’s fantasy worlds and our Ribble Valley. JRR Tolkien indeed visited the area whilst his eldest son was studying at Stonyhurst College in the 1940s, and no doubt he explored a little, being an advocate of nature, but did he really lean upon the area for inspiration? It would be good to know if the green rolling Ribble Valley, which we so appreciate today, is in the background somewhere.

In these days of Instagram and social media, many places tied to a film, book or TV scene have become must-visit spots for that selfie. The shopkeepers and pubs nearby will be rubbing their hands if their village or street is featured on TV week after week, but what of the local population who have to endure inconsiderate parking and intrusive behaviour? Try going to Haworth on a weekend. The same is happening to previously hidden beauty spots; the litter generated in some corners of the Lakeland is staggering. Internet searching even provides lists of ‘iconic’ locations.

So how does The Tolkien Trail fit into the scheme of things? Many of us have explored and enjoyed the area around Stonyhurst for decades without a thought of Tolkien or Middle-earth. Local enthusiasts and the tourist board seem to have hit upon the idea in the early 2000s, conveniently at the height of the Lord of the Rings film series’ popularity: literary connections were made and leaflets printed, and it has increased in popularity ever since. It has been included in several guidebooks, and YouTube videos are freely available. There are no standout Tolkien locations for the Instagram brigade, aside from perhaps Cromwell’s Bridge, to distract the walker. This trail is all about the natural scenery, which one hopes the visitors appreciate.

I arrive in Hurst Green at lunchtime, the streets are packed with cars, signs implore considerate parking, and there is a small car park at the village hall (voluntary contributions). I know I am adding to the problem. Why didn’t I catch the hourly bus from Longridge or come midweek?

I tend to walk the route widdershins, thus avoiding that long drag back up from the river to the village right at the end of the day. Most of the leaflets and guides go clockwise, and this is reflected in the steady stream of folk coming towards me all afternoon. Without exaggeration, at least a hundred; at one point, I wondered whether there was a sponsored walk underway. But the wide landscape easily swallows them, and as I said, there are no real honey spots. On reflection, I don’t recall seeing any litter.

A wedding reception is in full flow at the Shireburn Arms, a popular venue with stunning views over the Ribble Valley. Through their car park, a gate leads into a field that drops down to the River Ribble.

Towards the bottom, it narrows alongside a steep gorge before crossing the stream.

Alongside the river, the pipeline carrying water to Blackburn is a graceful addition to the scenery. One is uniquely walking on Astroturf. A solution to prevent erosion on this popular stretch. Strips salvaged from an athletic track were laid down a decade ago and seem to be lasting well.

Pendle pops up on the horizon and is with us all day.

Yellow Loosestrife and Geraniums give some colour.

Approaching Jumbles…

…and Tracy’s seat.

The giant hogweed we are warned against. Do not touch!

Hacking Ferryman’s house, Kemple End in the background.

17th-century Hacking Hall.

Site of the Hacking Ferry, which operated until the 1950s, Tolkien’s era. The Calder is joining in.

For more on the ancient ferry – https://bowlandclimber.com/2020/02/23/roads-to-nowhere-part-2-hacking-ferry/

All along this stretch, chattering Sand Martins are swooping over the river. One is just as likely to see a Little Egret as a Heron these days.

The Hodder is joining from the left.

The ancient Winckley Oak.

I learned to drive one of these before I was a teenager.

Stonyhurst College towers come into view.

That iconic bus shelter with a handy seat…

… and a view of Pendle.

C16th packhorse bridge. Cromwell’s army unlikely crossing.

One is now following the Hodder, which is mostly hidden by the summer vegetation. There are some good little bays for paddling along this stretch.

And a lively weir further on.

The trail climbs away from the river to Hodder Place, once a preparatory school for Stonyhurst College, but before that, a cotton mill owner’s property. Was there a mill on the Hodder below? I don’t think so, his must have been elsewhere..

I march through the grounds of Stonyhurst College before taking the footpath back to the village, arriving down Smithy Lane next to the photogenic Shireburn Almshouses.

Gothic Revival style St. Peter’s.

Almshouses.

I enjoyed my slow wander through our beautiful countryside and, like Bilbo Baggins, didn’t get lost once.

For a shorter version of this walk – https://bowlandclimber.com/2025/03/01/tolkien-in-the-mists-of-time/

***

A RIVER RIBBLE RAMBLE.

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Follow a river.

Yes, I’m onto my next week of 52 Ways to Walk, all about walking by rivers. The book says “researchers found that a landscape that included running water had a restorative effect. Was it the sound of running water? The light reflecting from its surface? …. The presence of water makes many of us feel calmer.”

I have a favourite short walk along the banks of the River Ribble—time to revisit.

Looking back, I have completed several long-distance paths following rivers, so there must be something attractive about them. The Speyside Way, The Wyre Way, The Tees Way, The Severn Way, The Dearne Way, The Thames Way – the list could go on. And of course pertinent to today’s stroll, The Ribble Way.

Does one go upstream from the coast to the source? Or do you start high and follow the river down? The choice is yours, but I tend to favour source-to-sea aesthetically. Finding the source is not always easy, as there are often myriad streams up on the fells. It is rare to find the highest legitimate spring giving birth to a great river. I thought I found it on the Bollin Valley Way in the Macclesfield Forest. I might have been mistaken.

Getting back to today’s excursion by the Ribble, which is one of the great northern rivers, arising high in the Pennines and gathering waters on its way to its estuary out past Preston. The proposed ‘Way’ alongside it is flawed by a lack of access to its banks for over half its length. Landed gentry and fishing syndicates intervene. Successive governments have fallen short on this aspect of our freedom to enjoy the countryside. Between Preston and Ribchester is a prime example, from Red Scar to almost Ribchester, the long-distance route is nowhere near the river.

But my Ribble loop is legal and strangely not even used by the official Ribble Way. Here is a map of my extended loop walk. I find a place to park at the bottom of Alston Lane, and to make the route longer and more interesting, walk back partway up the lane, passing the University’s observatories and the gates to Alston Hall.

An almost hidden stile leads into a field. It’s signed for the Ribble Way, but there have been few through recently. Yes, that’s Pendle in the background.

Finding a way down to a hidden stile that collapses as I cross it. I spend time on the Lancashire County Council app photographing the evidence and posting a report. Do they have the time or money to deal with these problems? The next stile is more substantial. There is even an old Ribble Way sign.

The grass in the field is long, and I almost step on a hare that bounds off. A large bird flies out of a tall tree – it must be a buzzard, but it just doesn’t seem right, an osprey?? They have been seen at Brockholes Nature Reserve just downriver from here. A flowering elderberry in the hedge row reminds me to make some cordial from the pink-flowered one in my garden.

Leaving The Ribble Way, a track takes me down to another hidden series of stiles in a wooden dell. One stile is easier to crawl beneath than to try to climb over. I seem to be having a problem with stiles today, old age?

Reaching the lane, I am only a few yards from where I parked. This has been a pleasant ramble in itself, but I haven’t reached the river yet. I turn left and soon enter a horse paddock. Fortunately, the residents are resting in the heat, so don’t bother me—a field of buttercups.

Soon, I am heading down to the river at last. I hear it before I see it. The Ribble speeds along over minor rapids before settling down to a lazy flow. What a contrast to wintery conditions, we hardly had any rain the last couple of weeks. I try to capture the atmosphere in a video.

The path alongside the river has been strimmed, presumably for the fishermen who access this stretch, so I can walk effortlessly, whilst watching the flow of the water. I must admit it is calming.

There are places where one can access little stony beaches, and the water looks tempting on a hot sunny day. But the river is still cold, a young boy tragically died this week, a few miles upriver at Ribchester.

I’m almost at the bottom of the ‘loop’ and can look inland towards Longridge Fell. Continuing the circuit, there, on the opposite bank, is Balderstone Hall. The river becomes shallow here over rocky shelves, and this was the site of an ancient ford. I was tempted today.

Leaving the river, I pass the new build that was under construction last time I was here. It looks very severe, not at all in keeping with its surroundings.

Walking up the rural lane, I come across this tractor parked up. If I see a vintage tractor, I include a photo for certain readers – well, this one is brand new, straight out of the saleroom; if they have tractor salerooms.

Taking the bridleway towards Old Alston Hall.

I watch a couple of young girls putting their ponies through their paces. A pleasant chat with their father, but I’m not invited in for tea.

https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1072296?section=comments-and-photos

I walk past their large barn, and around the corner is my car parked in a shady spot.

A walk I’m happy to repeat at any time of the year, hidden rural Lancashire, and especially that invigorating river.

OUT OF THE ROUGH.

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Dusty and Dinkley.

In my last post, some time ago, I was in the rough.

Well, I seem to have taken some time to escape. Out of nowhere, my throat became encased in sandpaper, and my voice struggled to function. A week of hot drinks, gargling and cough medicines ensured the bug didn’t get onto my chest, the main worry for us oldies. Disturbed sleep was mitigated with whisky.

Of course, there was that stormy Friday when one of my mature trees snapped in half, pulling with it a climbing rose I’ve had for 40 years with stems thicker than my arms. The devastation was evident from my kitchen window, but I was in no state to go out and sort it.

On the mend, I eventually ventured out with a chainsaw and loppers. But that rose was a nightmare; it would hook me up from all angles, taking lumps out of my jacket and skin. An hour a day was all I could manage—slow progress and still not all cleared.

For company, I would bring out my kittens to play in the garden. Oscar is becoming a proficient climber, while Dusty quarters the lawn, honing her skills in pursuit of insects. I need to keep an eye on them as a tom from across the road is very aggressive towards them.

In a second, Oscar is up a tree, but little Dusty is chased out of the garden.

That was the start of three days of worrying for her safety. I went around neighbours’ gardens and alleys, rattling tins and knocking on doors. I left bedding and a litter tray out to offer her some olfactory guide back. I resorted to a Facebook message. And it rained nonstop. She was spotted in a garage but ran off, which gave me hope. But it was unlikely she would willingly return to my garden after the scare she had experienced.

To my joy, yesterday, after a vain morning search for her, she turned up in my porch. A lovely neighbour found her in their garage and coaxed her out. She was happy to be picked up and brought home. With relish, she tucks into a juicy chicken drumstick. Oscar is thrilled to see her, and we are now all having a cosy purring night together.

I hope we are all out of the rough.

Which is all a prelude to my walk today. It would have been easy to sink into another coffee and a book, but the sun shine beckons—time to get moving. I have in mind a gentle walk alongside the Ribble at Dinkley.

Surprisingly, I am the only car in the usually popular Marles Wood carpark. To vary the day and for an easy start, I just walk along the road to the pub and church at Old Langho. It’s a quiet stretch of road, and I relax into a gentle rhythm, enjoying the crisp air and sunshine.

I remember when this house was a pub, The Tanners Arms and then a Chinese Restaurant, Mr Foo’s? Allegedly, he lost the place playing mahjong.

I’m not sure when the next bus will come along here.

I pause at the sandstone bridge over Dinkley Brook.

My obligatory shot of Pendle, with his head in the clouds.

The Black Bull hasn’t opened yet, and there is a burial service at St. Leonards Church, so I move on. You can read more about the church and Brockhall Hospital cemetery here and here.

More lodges are being built on the adjacent site. I am soon through and dropping down to cross Dinckley Brook for the second time this morning.

Once up the slope, I head for the cluster of houses. Dinckley is a scattered community. Rather than continue on the lane, which I’ve walked before, I fancy a footpath going past Cravens, which might give me a view from the hillside over the Ribble. I often feel anxious walking down private drives, but I needn’t have worried; a series of gates takes me through their yard and back out into fields. The views I hoped for don’t materialise due to a belt of woodland above Dinckley Hall, but I do look across to Longridge Fell above Hurst Green.

And there is this stately oak.

Wire fencing hems me in; its purpose becomes apparent at a gate. The wigwams are just visible on the skyline before I reach the road going down to the hall.

Now on familiar territory, I make my way past that lovely shiny new bridge, replacing a ferry and a previous suspension bridge, whose opening plaque from 1951 is still on display.

Despite all the rain we have had, the river is running low, with the shingle beaches visible.

The flood debris left on the banks, some 10 feet or more above today’s level, is scary.

The bridge is better viewed from this angle.

As I say, the river is low and ambling along at a slow pace, which I happily go along with. Entering Marles Wood, the only leaves left are on the young beech trees.

The river picks up pace approaching the rapids, but bears no resemblance to when it is in full flow. The Wheel is barely turning.

I sit on a rock, drinking my coffee, watching the river flow by; at peace with the world.

But never mind Dinckley, Dusty is the star of the show.

TOLKIEN AND CROMWELL IN THE MISTS OF TIME.

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It is difficult to plot a flat five-mile walk in this part of the Ribble Valley. At least if you want to make it interesting. Sir Hugh is a connoisseur of trails, so I have to make this one at least appear interesting and at the same time without too much uphill.

He has kindly offered to come down from Cumbria in order to drive me to a walk I can’t easily reach otherwise. He left the choice to me.

The morning is misty, so we linger and catch up over coffee before leaving. A low-level walk is probably best in these conditions. Half a Tolkien is what I’ve named it. I could probably just about walk it blindfolded.

The Tolkien Trail is a walk around the area inspired by J R R Tolkien’s writings during his stay at the college in the late 1940s. A number of names which occur in ‘The Hobbit’ and ‘The Lord of the Rings’ are similar to those found locally. The tourism people have made as much cudos from it as possible.

Leaving Hurst Green, the much-improved footpath drops steeply down to the Ribble. As we happily descend, I have nagging doubts at the back of my mind that we will have to climb back up at some stage. I need not have worried; Sir Hugh is a true soldier.

Peace is all around. There is no wind, and the Ribble flows sedately by, one of the great rivers of the North. The still, misty conditions add atmosphere to the banks. The stately aqueduct, 1880 era, carries a water pipe to Blackburn, but I can’t remember where it originated. ? Langden Intake at Dunsop Bridge.

We are now on an ‘astro turf’ path. At some stage, a plastic sports pitch has been taken up and relaid as a strip along the river bank, creating the perfect walking surface which blends in with the surroundings. It could be used to advantage on other popular/eroded paths. I think Sir Hugh has stepped offside at this point.

The trail further on has been surfaced with slate chippings, equally resistent but not as visually pleaasing. I wonder which will survive the longest?

Jumbles, where the river has a little dance, comes and goes.

Upstream, fishermen are trying their luck.

I point out Hacking Hall across the way, just visible in my header photo (garderobe was the word I was trying to bring to mind). The Calder joins in here at the site of the old Hacking Ferry, which would have been in operation in Tolkien’s time.

ROADS TO NOWHERE PART 2. HACKING FERRY.

I have a secret up my sleeve. We are always looking for a comfortable seat to have lunch, but there is never one when needed. Today, I hone in on a fisherman’s bench just above where the Hodder, itself a sizeable river, joins the Ribble. Perfect, with extra brownie points.

Close by is the Winkley Oak, that magnificent ancient tree. I am always reassured to see it still standing after the winter storms.

The diverted path is no problem. However, I’m still not sure whether it is official.

As we slowly climb the lane, I mention that the tall trees nearby are a heronry at this time of year. They have nested here for generations. Peering up into the roof canopy, we fail to spot any nests. But then a couple of herons on the ground take to flight and land in the highest branches. They tend to lay early, so they are probably building nests at the moment. Their rasping cries break the general silence.

I find a group of Oyster fungi on a fallen tree, enough for a snack on toast later. (I’m still alive)

The path across the fields has been improved, and we are soon at that bus stop on the road junction. It is too misty for the classic view of Pendle Hill or Cromwell’s Bridge down below. More of him later.

I try to ignore the steep bit of road climbing up to Stonyhurst College grounds. Sir Hugh hardly stops for breath.

We take a back route through the college grounds, past all those terrets and observatories, until there in front of us is the magnificent St. Peter’s Church.

The front of the college is inspiring. The road leading to it is dramatic. The public right of way now goes elsewhere, but I remember walking straight up to the college years before security stepped in. In ignorance and encouraged by Sir Hugh, we walk out on that entrance drive between the ornamental ponds. I wonder whether the security cameras picked us up.

Once safely out of the gates, we have time to turn around and admire the college’s frontage.

The long road leads to the tacky, all-seeing Column of the Immaculate Conception on a mound. More interesting is a large wayside stone. After staying the night in Stonyhurst, Cromwell allegedly stood on this stone and described the mansion ahead of him as “the finest half-house in England”; the symmetry of the building was, at that time, incomplete. He fought the Preston battle the following day, 17th August 1648, against the Royalist army.

From here, it is a simple stroll back into Hurst Green just as the sun is breaking through.

An excellent five-mile walk full of interest and, as usual, with Sir Hugh full of bonhomie. His version will be available soon at https://conradwalks.blogspot.com/

A LOCAL RAMBLE.

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What a beautiful day again. It was a frosty start but full sun, blue skies and no wind. Perfect for a walk. Again, I’m in luck. I have a phone call from a friend, C, suggesting coffee and maybe a walk. She knows of my predicament.

My ‘pilgrimage’ to Manchester is on hold; I would probably have been there by now, given the settled weather. But I’m delighted to be able to get out; my left hand is still useless, so I feel safer with the company.

After a coffee and a catchup, we set off on some of the lanes in Thornley.

Ferrari’s Country Inn has been in the same family for years but has recently been sold to Elle R Leisure, which owns other hotels and dining venues in the NW. Originally named Blackmoss House, it was built by the Earl of Derby in 1830 and was previously used as a shooting lodge. It was part of the Derby Estates until the late 1970s when it was taken over by the Ferrari family and transformed into a wedding venue. The new owners will name it Longridge House, which I think is a bit tame and has no real connectivity. Why not Blackmoss House or Hotel?

Today, there is much building activity in progress. It looks like an extension into the garden may be planned—lots of rubble, skips full of redundant goods, and burning mattresses. We poke into the skips and find whole dinner sets of white crockery. What a waste when they could have gone to charity. We speak to the friendly foreman who says we can help ourselves to whatever. (I just had a message from C to say that a carload is already on the way to the charity shops)

We walk on away from the acrid smoke. Across the fields, more massive ‘agricultural’ buildings have appeared. There is speculation about their use; a red glow surrounds them at night! The plot thickens.

Friends live in a cottage on the ridge above; we can see his house from here. I’ll have to ask them for information. I need to visit them sometime, possibly to acquire another couple of kittens. Here is the collection from a week ago.
The fields around Blackmoss are studded with molehills; some look ginormous.

On the road, we cross Gill Bridge over the infant Loud. We discuss the strange watershed hereabouts, which has the Loud flowing eastwards away from the coast to join the Hodder, which loops all the way around Longridge Fell to join the Ribble before reaching the coast. Meanwhile, streams just to the west, Sparling Brook and Westfield Brook, flow directly to the Wyre and out to sea, a much shorter and direct route.

In geological history, the Hodder did not flow eastward around Longridge Fell to join the River Ribble but instead ran westward along the Loud Valley from Doeford Bridge to the Derby Arms north of Longridge, continuing south-westward through Halfpenny Lane on the west side of Longridge to join either Blundell Brook past Broughton church and Woodplumpton to join the River Wyre, or else Savick Brook through Fulwood to join the River Ribble (Wikishire)

No explanation for this is given. I have read somewhere that glacial deposits blocked the Hodder in a previous ice age, creating the watershed and the present flow of water. The other is that the earth’s crust buckled or tilted to create the division.

Taking to the fields, we head back. Going in the opposite direction to my usual sorties, my navigation is not up to scratch. Along here somewhere, we lose contact with C’s dog, causing some consternation for a while. Of course, she comes bounding back as though nothing had happened. Safely on the lead now through the farm, along Clay Lane and onto the roadside pavement.

Longridge Fell, looming above.

We part company at Mile Lane, which I follow up into the park.

I want to see a new tree planting here. Here is the idea.

Longridge Environment Group

We are delighted to share that Longridge is about to join a small number of pioneering towns and villages across Britain with a micro-wood, or Miyawaki micro forest, at John Smith’s Playing Field. Led by Lancashire County Council’s Treescapes initiative, experts in this approach to ecology, and supported by Longridge Environment Group.

A miniature woodland, about the size of a tennis court, which is planted with native trees at ultra-high density on a specially prepared plot. To protect the tiny young trees from damage by deer and other browsing animals, the plot is ringfenced by chestnut paling.

Woodland soils have a fundamentally different character from those in grasslands. When trees are planted directly into grassland soils, they often have a higher failure (death) rate than those planted in woodlands. While most survive, they’re vulnerable to disease and drought stress and grow very slowly, as they expend so much energy on simply staying alive and healthy.

In a micro-wood, the trees are planted into a specially prepared plot, where the ground has been modified to create conditions much better suited to young trees. First, the turf is inverted, burying the vigorous grass and competing for nutrients with the trees. Then, the ground is cultivated to loosen the soil. This opens up air pockets, allowing water to percolate through the root zone, trapping warmth and allowing the roots to grow without forcing their way through cold, compacted soil. We then add about ten tonnes of organic matter, usually spent mushroom compost or well-rotted manure, topped off with about the same quantity of bark mulch. As well as fertilising the trees, this provides an instant home to the fungi, microbes and invertebrates that form the rich ecosystem supporting the trees. The mulch will also seal in water, be invaluable in hot, dry spells, and suppress competitive weeds, replicating the effect of leaf litter on a woodland floor.

When we plant the trees, we first dip them in a gloop infused with mycorrhizal fungi, enabling them to tap into soil nutrients more efficiently. The soil now resembles that of a woodland rather than a field. Conventional tree planting is carried out at a much lower density. However, when woodlands form naturally, the trees often grow at very high density. The trees that thrive initially aren’t usually the ones that create the mature woodland canopy. Species such as rowan, birch and hawthorn often grow much more vigorously than oaks in the first few years. These “pioneer” species act as a nurse crop for the trees that will later form the “climax” canopy of the mature woodland. The species mix for Longridge’s microwood includes pioneer and climax species and the small trees and shrubs forming the underwood of trees growing below the canopy.

We follow the theory of potential natural vegetation, devised by Prof Akira Miyawaki, who advised this woodland creation technique in Japan in the 1970s. In a nutshell, we plant the assemblage of trees in the correct proportions that we think would grow on a site, with a few compromises if natural processes were allowed to take hold. We don’t plant sycamore because it will get there anyway, and we don’t plant ash or elm because of the diseases they’re suffering from.

Once the roots have become acclimatised, the trees will proliferate from late spring. Expect rowan, elder and other pioneer species to get going first. The odd one may put on over 1.5m in the first growing season. Some trees may even produce flowers and fruit in year one. The trees will form a dense thicket within two or three years. This will provide a home to vast numbers of insects and other invertebrates. These animals are the larder newly hatched songbirds, bats, hedgehogs, frogs, toads and newts. In time, a pair or two of breeding songbirds may nest there, and amphibians will find it a safe and sheltered place to hibernate.

They haven’t planted any trees yet, but the site looks tidy and prepared with mulch and bark. I’m not sure the fence is high enough to keep out deer. it will be interesting to see how this project develops.

My next port of call is JD’s house. Again, more coffee and catchup.

He accompanies me back, taking me through the new housing estate, which is far more extensive than seen from the road. Parts of it are quite attractive, with great views across to the Bowland Hills – for now. There seems to be an adequate number of ‘affordable’ properties, some of them bungalows suitable for the elderly.

We part company at Sainsbury’s, and I return home after a decent and interesting ramble. It’s not been easy taking pictures on my phone one-handed.

I dine on soup from the freezer for the third night running. convenient and wholesome.

PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. ONWARDS TO WHALLEY.

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Day 2. Ribchester to Whalley.

I have time to look around Ribchester before setting off on my walk this morning. I spoke about its mill heritage last time, and today, I alight from the bus next to Bee Mill and its repurposed sheds.

Before the cotton mills arrived, in common with many areas of East Lancashire, the village was a centre for handloom weaving. The cottages of Church Street opposite the White Bull are a row of Weavers’ cottages noteworthy for their unusual configuration of windows. Built for the handloom weavers, they have three levels with a single window at the uppermost. Although it is commonly believed that the window in the top level is to illuminate the looms, this may not be the case as the weaving would probably have been carried out in the lowest part of the house because of the size of the loom and the need for damp conditions to keep the cotton flexible.

I pass both the pubs in the centre. I even have time for a quick look at the Roman Baths. It’s time to get moving. I follow the road eastwards out of the village, as taken by the Ribble Way. The pavement is narrow, and the road is busy, which is unpleasant. A true Pilgrim would follow the lane to visit the Norman church at Stydd with its medieval cross base. https://lancashirepast.com/2014/07/05/the-knights-hospitallers-stydd-church-near-ribchester/

I have been that way many times, and I know the field paths onward to Ribchester Bridge are particularly muddy. This area was flooded two weeks ago, so I continue along the road to the bridge. A recent crash has damaged the parapet, dislodging stones into the Ribble; a crane is being set up to try and recover them. The bridge was built in 1789.

I chose to walk the minor road to Salesbury Hall and then by the river to Dinkley Bridge. An alternative would be to keep on the north bank, but that path can be quite awkward. The two make a popular circuit from Hurst Green. I march past the grand gates of Lancashire Show Ground…

… and onto Salesbury Hall. A chapel existed on this site from medieval times, and slowly, a hall and estate developed around it. The original Old Hall was pulled down in 1883, and a large mansion was built on its site. Whenever I passed, it always reminded me of a French Chateau.

This hall was recently demolished, and a large modern mansion was built in 2005. Planning permission was also granted to convert the neighbouring farm complex into a rural office park—money talks.

I leave the road to enter Marle Woods. I pull out the trekking poles to negotiate the slippery terrain between tree roots. Here is Sale Wheel, the origin for Salesbury. Today, the Ribble is calm as it pours through the narrow rocky divide and spreads out in the ‘wheel’ before trundling on to Ribchester.

The footpath is slowly eroding away, a combination of footfall and floods.

The walk through the fields alongside the Ribble is a delight. More people are met, many doing the circuit I mentioned. We are all in a good mood with the winter sunshine. The new bridge is shining bright.

I catch a glance of the old Dinckley Hall before climbing up the road away from the river.

Branching off to Aspinalls. I find a seat for a break and a snack. The owners come along. It was their Mother’s seat, but I am welcome to use it. From here, I look across to Whalley Nab, with its pylon. The route goes up there next time.

Fields lead on before a drop to Dinckley Brook and ahead a holiday park. Static caravans are unexpected here in the Ribble Valley.

The path comes out at the Black Bull pub. More importantly, it is next to old St Leonard’s Church. I’ve been here many times; you can get the key to the church from the pub. Today, I look around the outside for evidence that it was built in 1557 using material from the dissolution of Whalley Abbey.

Beyond the church’s graveyard is another burial site – a large field dedicated to the lives lost in the adjacent Brockhall Hospital, a large Mental Institution in the old-fashioned sense. One of the largest mental institutions in Europe, housing 3,500 patients in 42 acres of grounds. A poignant memorial to the mainly unmarked graves of hundreds of residents. A Gerald Hitman bought the Brockholes site after the hospital closed and developed it as a gated housing estate. He and his son are buried there. For a more detailed reading on the hospital and its cemetery https://www.calderstones-cemetery.co.uk/brockhall-hospital-cemetery/

I do a little road walking, with Pendle ahead as usual, before fields across to Lower Elker where dogs come rushing at me. Fortunately, the lady farmer calls them off and has a pleasant chat with me about all things sheep.

The best and safest way to cross the busy A59 is by the bridge leading to Billington.

Whalley comes into view with the railway viaduct centrefold.

The public Right of Way towards the viaduct is blocked by a construction site with no explanation. They seem to be building everywhere in Whalley.

I am dwarfed by the railway viaduct – 600 yards long, 70 feet tall, 48 arches and over 6 million bricks, red and blue. There is a metal footbridge over the River Calder alongside the viaduct, Old Sol’s Bridge, originally serving a cotton mill on the south side of the river. It was built in 1993 to replace one built in 1909 and is named after Solomon Longworth, owner of Walmsley Mill, who donated the original bridge. Nearby is Longworth Street, formerly Factory Street, built for the workers at the mill.

Once across, I head under the viaduct and enter the village through the original C13th gateway to Whalley Abbey.

The gardens are open, so I go through the next, C19th, gateway to look around.

The pay booth is closed, but a sign says to scan the QR code to pay; I cannot do that, so I walk about for free, which is what I expect the other visitors are doing.

The Abbey was a large Cistercian abbey founded in 1296 and dissolved in 1536 when it was largely demolished. Subsequently, a country house was built on the site for the Assheton family. This, after many modifications over the years remains as a retreat and chapel.

Most of the ruins are just outlines of the previous monastic buildings. Some have fared better than others, and one gets a feel for the scale of the place.

My bus is due in a few minutes, so I don’t have time for the Church, I’ll start there next time.

I certainly picked a good day for this walk, with blue skies throughout and excellent views showing the Ribble Valley at its best.

***

THE START OF ANOTHER PILGRIMAGE?

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Day 1. Longridge to Ribchester.

A pilgrimage is best started from one’s doorstep.

As you know, I’m not religious, but I enjoy a walk with a purpose. If that purpose links religious or historical sites with a new countryside, I’m ready for the challenge. In the past, I have completed several ‘pilgrimages’. Possibly the most enjoyable was cycling the Camino from Le Puy en Valay in France to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. But I have enjoyed shorter trips in Britain. St. Cuthbert’s Way, St. Hilda’s Way, The Pilgrims Way, Two Saints Way, Lancashire Monastic Way. The list goes on.

I’ve found another one, recreating a route from Whalley Abbey to Manchester Cathedral courtesy of the Greenmount Village Walking Group. https://www.westpennineway.org/pilgrims-way-2/

But why not walk from home?

There should be a link-up. I am looking for a direct route to Ribchester before another to Whalley to connect with the above-mentioned Pilgrims Way.

There is a break in the weather after all those storms. It’s clear, but winter is still in the air. I leave at lunchtime and am unsure what held me up; just remembered it was the Big Garden Birdcount. I live just across from the pub. Perhaps a church would have been a better starting point, but there doesn’t seem to be anything of note in Longridge’s selection. *I take a shortcut up one of our stone terraces. There was a farm here before. I usually manage to get lost in the modern housing estate that follows. The climbing for the day is done by the time I reach the old Quarryman’s Inn, which is blue plaqued, but now an infant nursery. Down Tan Yard, through more quarries, houses new and old with views over our reservoirs and on to Lower Lane. Quitisential Longridge. The road is getting more hazardous to cross at the gated entrance to Higher College Farm. Now, a small industrialised site, but with hopes to develop an entire retail park, which is totally out of character for this rural setting. Their plans have been turned down for now. It would help if they would upgrade the stile for a start.

I’m now in open fields overlooking the Ribble Valley. But first, I need to pass through one of those agricultural graveyards where everything has been saved for the day it could be required – i.e. never. Lower College Farm is, thankfully, bypassed. They have some antique farming or milking implement on display. Any guesses as to what it is?

A brief spell on Hothersall Lane. I could have carried onto the bottom and followed the Ribble to Ribchester. But no, I want to try a Bridleway more directly to Ribchester. It is tarmac to Ox Hey and then muddy fields on unmarked paths; my GPX comes in handy on several occasions. The benefit of this higher way was the extensive views over the Ribble Valley, with Pendle Hill always taking the eye with the ever-changing light playing across its flanks. The Ribble winds its way through Ribchester, and from up here, it can be seen snaking into the distance, where the Hodder and the Calder have joined it. As well as Pendle, I can make out the lower hills of Whalley Nab, where this pilgrimage will take me.

I make a beeline to Parsonage Farm, where the land drops away to the Ribble Valley. I’m looking straight down to Ribchester from up here, and the staggered slanting roof lights of Bee Mill stand out.

This reminds me that Ribchester was once a busy mill village. There were two large cotton mills on either side of the road: Ribblesdale Mill, with 405 looms, now demolished and replaced by a housing estate and the above-mentioned Bee Mill, 320 looms, the remains used by small industrial and retail units. The latter is also known as Bannisters Mill from the family that has owned it for generations. When I first moved to the area in the early 70s, it was still operative, and we would buy fabrics from their mill shop. Its chimney was demolished in 2003. Here is an aerial photo from 1950, courtesy of Historic England, of Bee Mill in the foreground and Ribblesdale across the road.

But I’m getting ahead of myself – I haven’t even reached the village.

My path takes me to the site of Bremetennacum, the Roman fort of which much has been written. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bremetennacum Nearby metal detectorists are combing a field, presumably legally? I’m heading to St. Wilfrid’s Church, Grade I listed with abundant historical interest. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Wilfrid%27s_Church,_Ribchester

I go inside for a proper exploration, they have a good printed guide avaiable. There was a church on this site from the C13th, chapels were subsequentally addded and the tower in the C 15th. Unusully ‘dormer windows’ were constructed in the roof to give more light. Victorian restorations took place in 1881.

I find a few curios.

Dormer windows.

C14th font.

Church Wardens’ box pew.

Triple stone sedilia, for seating the clergy during mass.

C13th double bowled Piscina.

Inscribed box pew.

‘Lepers squint’ opening to the outside.

The Dutton Chapel on the north side contains fragments of a wall painting of Saint Christopher from the 14th or 15th century. At one time church walls would be extensively illustrated but most has been lost over the centuries.

Modern stained glass, Dutton Chapel – can you spot Pendle?

Fragments of Medieval glass.

Carved figure on a column to Dutton Chapel. C14th.

Victorian glass in the Houghton Chapel.

In a niche inside the church I spottted a Scallop shell, someone else has been on a pilgrimage. The scallop shell was traditionaly associated with Pilgrims, especially en route to Santiago de Compostela. Mine, from 2001, is hanging from my bed.

In the churchyard there is a prominent sundial. Its original C14th base was for a cross, crosses were prominent on Pilgrim routes as waymarkers and for prayer.

The Roman Museum is closed but I wrote about it here – https://bowlandclimber.com/2019/11/28/a-lancashire-monastic-way-6-red-scar-to-ribchester/

I wander down to the riverside, a picture of calm, and yet only two weeks ago it rose 10feet or more, flooding the lower part of the village, a frequent occurence. There is evidence of its ferrocity in one of the riverside trees. The fisherman across the way casting his favourite spot.

Today’s Journey really was completed at the Church; I wandered up the narrow lane to catch the bus home.

* After a bit more reading, I find that St. Lawrence’s Church on Chapel Hill in Longridge was built as a chapel of ease for St Wilfrid’s, Ribchester, in the early 16th century, So there is a connection, and perhaps I should have started there rather than at the pub.

***

Continue reading →

MORE BOLTON-BY-BOWLAND HISTORY.

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I’ve walked quite a lot in the area around Bolton-By-Bowland, it is very special. I’m back here today with Clare and Zola to look at some of the highlights. It is too good to miss a day out in this September heat wave.

I have another of those Ribble Valley Walks of Taste to follow.

But we don’t follow it to the letter. For a start we leave the car in the little community car park by the bridge. I didn’t actually notice the Coach and Horses inn at all, so we fail to contribute to the Ribble Valley economy on this occasion.

Immediately by the bridge is a hidden well built into a wall, I can find no reference as to its provenance but it looks rather neat.

We are soon into fields, guided by clear signs but all warning of your dog being shot if not on a lead, we don’t tell Zola. My reason for taking this different route is to see the mediaeval cross base marked on the map and Grade II listed. The stone is obvious in the first field under a spreading oak. We are not far from Sawley Abbey here and there must have been tracks through the countryside with crosses for guidance and perhaps prayer.

There are a lot of beautiful mature trees to admire today in what was the estate of Bolton Hall. The original hall was built in 1229 and was set in a 2,000 acre estate. From the 14th century, the hall was in the hands of the Pudsay family until 1771. Henry VI hid here for a while after his defeat at the Battle of Hexham, he was later captured at Brungerly hipping stones over the Ribble. In another episode it is said that William Pudsay made a spectacular leap on horseback at nearby Ravensber Scar across the river to make his escape after being charged with counterfeiting silver shillings, the silver ore coming from mines on his estate near Rimington. The hall was demolished in 1958.

But we are not there yet. A bridge over the Skirden Beck means we don’t have to use the historic cobbled ford.

We climb up the lane to reach the drive to Bolton Hall, but before following it I indulge in another ancient cross diversion. It is in a field with no obvious access so I make do with a zoom photo, it looks very similar to the last one.

Now down the drive, the hall has gone but outbuildings, stables and cottages have been renovated to provide modern exclusive accommodation.

Of historical interest to us is King Henry’s well, where he may have hidden. It lies in the manicured grounds of the the Bolton Hall estate, but there is a gate for us to gain access for a photo at least.

Some of the renovated cottages bear witness to their antiquity.

I found this photograph of Bolton Hall in the early 1900s.

Moving on we traverse a series of fields and a pheasant cover which drove Zola mad, being kept on a lead. We are high above the Ribble now where Sir Ralph Pudsey was said to have made his horseback leap.

I have visited Fooden before and remember one of the house holders fitting a new weathervane, I wonder if it is still there. It is, though they have never got round to orientating the compass points.

It turns out the man is a stone mason and he shows us some of his finished work. The sandstone he uses comes from Longridge Fell. Seeing our interest in the house opposite he tells us of another one down the lane. Both are C17th and Grade II listed. Just about everything is listed hereabouts. In fact the parish of Bolton-by-Bowland contains 44 listed buildings.

Pleasant fields bring us back into Bolton-by-Bowland where we make a beeline to the C15th Church of St. Peter and St. Paul. Inside, next to the Pudsay Chapel, is a remarkable memorial to Sir Ralph Pudsay who died in 1468. A limestone slab carved with figures of Sir Ralph, his 3 wives, and 25 children, together with their names. It is difficult to photograph, I have tried before.

The village is a delight of stone houses and cottages around a village green where there is another stone cross and the village stocks. Well worth a visit.

***

THE LONGEST DAY.

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For the Summer Solstice I choose another leaflet from Walks with Taste – Visit Ribble Valley. – this time from the Three Millstones in the village of West Bradford. It promises an “Amble along the well-trodden banks of the Ribble admiring this remarkably quiet section by a hidden industrial quarry”.

I drive through West Bradford often but don’t think I’ve ever stopped off to explore. This morning I park at the Three Millstone Inn, after seeking permission. The village derives its name from its situation at a historic ‘broad ford’ at the nearby Ribble. Over the centuries the descriptive name of Broadford became Bradford. The West was added in the late 19th century to differentiate the village from its much larger Yorkshire neighbour. Somewhere there has been a cotton mill on the site of an older corn mill but as I walk out of the village this morning I don’t identify it, even though I spy a Mill Street sign. The stone cottages would have housed the workers. P1060975 P1060978

The Mill stream runs down the centre of the village helping to create some interesting gardens. P1070049

I’m soon out of the village and onto the northern bank of the River Ribble for the meat of the walk. I’ll be close to the river for the next three or four miles, the path is well worn and favoured by dog walkers. If you look closely at the pictures you will see a couple of Labradors swimming towards the weir to enjoy a ride down it. I bet they do that every day. P1060981

P1060984 P1060985 The river is flat calm for a stretch and then along come small rapids. I would think that at the moment the water is medium height, the whole aspect changes in flood conditions. Pendle looks on from afar.
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Coming back on the opposite bank is equally pleasant and there are woods giving some shade on what turns out to be a hot day. In the distance Kemple End on Longridge Fell keeps popping into view. All along this stretch to my left are abandoned limestone quarries which have grassed over and become part of the rural landscape, their extent can be seen on the map. I’m soon back at Bradford bridge. P1070005 P1070007 P1070014 P1070011 P1070019

But instead of following the suggested route straight up to the village I take another loop of the Ribble around the cement works in order to visit Crosshill Nature Reserve and part of the sculpture trail which I have previously described in detail here. P1070025

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Once back at the Three Millstones I sit outside (it’s more of a ‘gastro pub’ inside, their lunch menu looks good and reasonably priced) enjoying a decent pint of Blonde Ale from Reedley Hallows brewery in Burnley, I’d never heard of them before.
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***

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***

Later watching England play football on TV it certainly does feel like the longest day.

A RAMBLE AROUND CLITHEROE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Did an architect actually design this.

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

Looking down onto the fish ladder.

Fish ladder in construction. ribbletrust.org.uk

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

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

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

***

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RAMBLING ON THE RIVERBANK.

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P1060561

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trough House.

Pullet eggs.

Shopkeepers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salesbury Hall.

Manor Court Offices.

Elderflower wine?

Ribchester Bridge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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BOTH SIDES OF THE RIBBLE – A MITTON ROUND.

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P1060402

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHERE WATERS MEET.

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On our doorstep are two of the North’s great rivers, the Hodder and the Ribble. I don’t need an excuse to walk along either of them, and today I combine the two where they merge at Winkley on past Hurst Green. I park at the prominent bus stop just before the road drops down to the Lower Hodder Bridge. My previous posts on this area contain far more history and information than I’m about to give you on today’s short walk.

Hop across the road into fields and I’m on the popular Tolkien Trail and the not so popular Ribble Way. The well trodden ground shows just how popular anything to do with Tolkien has become, I estimate that 50% of people visiting Hurst Green walk the trail. Today I’m only sampling it. Soon I’m into the grounds of Winkley Hall and then become distracted by some fine bracket fungi. P1000566 P1000592

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Past the farm with its ancient moat, now boasting a new ‘duck house’, and there is the Winkley Oak. Today I measured the circumference of the bole, 13m which is over 40 feet. somewhere I have read that it is almost 500 years old. This tree is an old friend of mine and I am pleased to see it in fine form. P1000576 P1000578 P1000583

By the fishermen’s hut the River Hodder slides into the River Ribble which continues it’s stately way to the sea. It is helped on its way a little farther by the smaller Calder coming from Burnley via Whalley. This latter junction is where the Hacking Ferry boat plied its trade until the 50s. The boat house is a little farther round the bend. I have always been intrigued by the tumulus marked on the map nearby and I try a long distance shot of it. The river is in gentle mood today but flood debris in the trees shows how turbulent it can become after heavy rain. P1000584 P1000593 P1000597 P1000588 P1000594 P1000601

Soon after Jumbles I’m off the regular trail and heading up the hill to Cross Gills Farm. On the way I meet the lady farmer driving her buggy and checking on her sheep which she can recognise individually. We chat about all things farming, she is uncertain as to the future now that perhaps food can be created in the laboratory. A frightening thought. I’m offered a lift in her buggy up the steep hill to her farm, but that would be cheating wouldn’t it? and I may have missed these fungi and the view over the Ribble. P1000602 P1000606 P1000607

Straight across the main road into Stonyhurst College land. I circle the cricket pitch with it’s lovely period pavilion. P1000613

Out past Gardener’s Cottage onto the road leading back to my car. Halfway along I’m accosted by a lady, doesn’t happen often, who knows me from my past. Once I recollect who she is we spend more time lamenting the demise of all things important to the fabric of our society. That’s two conversations today reflecting on our past and our future, and I was only out for a bit of exercise. That’s how it goes around here with such lovely folk. I reach the car just as it starts raining – serendipity. And there is Pendle as ever keeping a watch over the Ribble Valley.

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CaptureWinlkey.

THE GUILDED WHEEL.

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My camera went into ‘frozen mode’ after a short time on my latest cycle around Preston’s Guild Wheel. Gone for now are the pictures of the Ribble in flood mode, the harmful Giant Hog Weeds and the cautionary notice to dismount on the steep descent to Brockholes. I had no reason to ignore the latter, I’ve been going from one injury to another in the last month, so caution was uppermost. I had parked in the Crematorium grounds after all.

Ospreys have been regular visitors to the nature reserve recently, but obviously not today. They do have a problem with Himalayan Balsam though. It was surprisingly quiet considering the good weather and school holidays. They must be all at Blackpool, not the ospreys just the crowds.

The rural ride from the reserve along the Ribble Flood Plain into town is unfortunately virtually the last of the green fields on the wheel, housing has taken over elsewhere in the last few years.

My phone camera comes into action on the tree lined boulevard into Avenham Park. Miller Park is looking immaculate, although the former, now empty, Park Hotel overlooking the scene has run into planning and financial problems as have many civic schemes in these cash strapped days. 20230815_123702 20230815_124108

Plenty of cash is being spent on flood defences along Broadgate. I manage to squeeze through wheeling my bike on the numerous diversions/obstructions which I should have or could have taken, I persist with the directissimo. It is all green paint for updated and complicated cycleways at the bottom of Fishergate Hill, I survive into Docklands. No steam trains today. And no more photos.

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After the car showrooms the newly opened Western Distributor road linking the M55 with the western edge of Preston seems to be working fine, but at the end of the day is only there to link up with all the new housing developments. The traffic just keeps multiplying without any structured environmental planning. Planting a few trees alonside the new road fools nobody. I have never seen a boat on the Ribble Link – more money misplaced? At least it is more carbon friendly if that makes any difference.

One now enters Lea, Cottam, Fulwood and Broughton or wherever. It is all housing, housing with a regulation 5 m square front garden often enclosed in the most unfriendly hedgehog fencings. At least the Guild Wheel has been preserved as a corridor to the other end.

I stop for a snack and contemplation opposite the war memorial on Garstang Road and all I can hear are builders bulldozers in the land behind me. Nothing is sacred.

I’m flagging now through those green corridors, surprisingly lots of ups and downs. 21 miles is far enough, but I have guilded the wheel, even though it is becoming a little tarnished.

A SETTLE CIRCULAR. First day.

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You often hear the sound of crashing waterfalls before you reach them. A sign off the road directed me to Scaleber Foss in a wooded valley. Scrambling down to the base gave the best views as the water cuts through the horizontal strata. There are some lively smaller falls before the beck disappears down a valley at a more sedate pace to be met later.

I had just started another walk plucked from the LDWA database. A circular 23-mile walk in Limestone country from Settle in North Yorkshire named ‘Loaves and Fishes’. I enjoy a two day walk away from home, I’m not sure this brings it into the long-distance category but it is a good excuse to have a night in a pub halfway. Considering the winter days and my level of unfitness this walk would seem to fit the bill perfectly. At the last minute, whilst parked up at the start I changed the direction of my walk to fit in with the weather forecast, rain today and maybe drier tomorrow when I would be higher in the fells.

Back up onto the road, I was soon on an old lane following Brookil Gill, this is Langber Lane an ancient drove route linking Settle with Otterburn and on through to Skipton. Easy walking left me thinking on important topics: the state of the world politics, our future after so-called Brexit this Friday, Coronavirus, our own mortality and is that water getting into my right boot?

After a hop across the beck, a path continued into pasture land where the stream from Scaleber Foss joined at a wooden footbridge. An ideal wild camping spot.

A steep climb out of the valley and I joined a lane overlooking Long Preston, one minute I could see it and next clouds and hail showers obscured the view. As I came out onto a road there was a bench perfect for an early lunch. I’m not sure why this road heading onto the moors is surfaced, there are no properties up there. On old maps it is Queen’s Road [? Elizabeth I ] and was the direct route from Long Preston to Settle over Hunter Bank before the turnpike road was built in the valley in the 18C. An old milestone was thus inscribed.

Dog walkers told me of the fine views up and down Ribblesdale, not today. Once over the top, I took to a direct footpath and a blurry Settle appeared below me. Little lanes, some still cobbled, thread their way into town. I took a coffee and dried out in The Folly, a late C17th manor house built by a wealthy lawyer Richard Preston.

I didn’t have time for more coffee and cake in the Ye Olde Naked Man, formerly an undertakers with a ‘naked man’ on the outside wall, 1663 covering his privates. There were more delights to discover off the beaten track in Settle. Narrow streets, quaint cottages, a Quaker burial ground and an old Victorian Music Hall.

I was aiming for a footbridge over the Ribble and then I would follow the river upstream past Stackhouse and Langcliffe Weir to Stainforth. The imposing large quarries at Langcliffe were in the gloom. I must be on a Long Distance Walk according to the signage. The going was muddy and by the time I arrived at Stainforth Falls, the light was fading. Sat-Nav is responsible for wide vehicles becoming stranded and damaging the old packhorse bridge.

I stayed the night in The Craven Heifer, a friendly and comfortable inn. There are a number of pubs named after the Craven Heifer, a massive cow bred on the Duke of Devonshire’s Bolton Abbey estate at the beginning of the C19th.

The restaurant was fully booked for a Chinese New Year banquet but the chef was able to cook a fish and chip supper for me in the bar before festivities commenced. There was talk in the bar of a new virulent virus spreading in China.

The fish was significant as it was the only one I saw all day – remember the title of the walk. The loaves come tomorrow but the fish are the salmon seen in October/November leaping the falls at Langcliffe and Stainforth, not my battered variety.

Gung hay fat choy!

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