Tag Archives: Walking.

THE DEARNE WAY – THREE.

Barnsley to Broomhill. Industrial wastelands

The morning starts with a mile downhill through Barnsley to negotiate the busy traffic at that large roundabout.

Barnsley Town Hall

Then I’m back on the line of the Barnsley Canal, still in an urban setting. The Barnsley area had rich seams of coal and was home to many collieries; the mass closures in the Eighties must have devastated the local economy and morale. I don’t think the rest of us understood the gravity of the situation. Most of today’s walk is through that landscape made bare and taken over by nature, either naturally or by the creation of Nature Reserves.

There is little water in the canal, mostly it is reeds or has been filled in.

The way crosses the river down below and enters a larger park area, more like the countryside now.

The downloaded information sheets are not detailed enough to follow the route, and waymarks have been lacking. Hence, I’ve used my phone’s GPS far more than usual. But I do come across this lone wooden post in the park.

Some interpretation boards are less useful than others.

Crossing a road, I come across the Transpennine Cycle Trail for the first time. But what’s that building hiding behind the trees?

This is the site of Monk Bretton Priory and is worth a diversion.

Founded in about 1154, it was a daughter house of the rich Cluniac priory at Pontefract. But it wasn’t an easy partnership, and in 1281, Monk Bretton became a Benedictine house. The Priory owned properties in South Yorkshire had rights over five parish churches, and worked ironstone and coal. After the Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1538, the priory was swiftly plundered for building materials. The priory site changed hands several times before coming under state ownership in 1932. The ruins are now managed by English Heritage.

The arched entrance was up a side street, the Priory now surrounded by housing.

Most is in ruins, but the gatehouse is mainly intact, as is the separate administrative block. Little remains of the church, but the cloisters are evident with the monks’ refectory. Uniquely, much of the drainage system is preserved; running water from the Dearne flushed the latrines and kitchen area.

Gatehouse.

Administrative building.

Site of the Church.

Intact drains.

One advantage of keeping the mileage down is one is free to explore more, But I’m now back on track, literally, as I follow old rail tracks down the valley. I should look into the history of where these rails went and for what purpose. I assume, perhaps erroneously, that coal transport was involved. I leave one abandoned line to use another. This one is heading to a prominent arched viaduct across the valley.

Leaving the railway, the path becomes indistinct in rough fields alongside the Dearne; concrete barriers have been constructed to keep the quad bikes out. To my right in the trees is the line of the Barnsley Canal again. I’m sitting on one of the barriers having a snack when a couple appears, the first I’ve seen. This is their regular walk, but they are worried about the cattle in the next fields. They are a friendly pair with much knowledge of the area and its wildlife. We walk on together, there are no cows. The canal is mainly empty, but he, being a fisherman, is keen to show me an area where it is flooded and a frequent haunt of his. I would have walked past without knowing it was there. He fishes for carp here and often sees a kingfisher perched nearby. Today, he doesn’t have his rod but has brought some bait to scatter.

I loved their Yorkshire accents; the further east one goes, the longer the vowels become. The lady reminded me of Lucy Beaumont, the comedienne from Hull.

@comedystans

#lucybeaumont #taskmaster #jonrichardson #meettherichardsons #hull #northsouthdivide #northerncomic #standupcomedy #standup #netflixisajoke

♬ original sound – comedystans

I leave them to their peace and walk on to brave the cattle. The frisky bullocks were all down by the river, so I passed safely. Still on the abandoned railway, the river appears below and down there somewhere is an old packhorse bridge.

Time is passing, so when I reach Storrs Mill Lane, I follow it for about a mile rather than the wandering field paths. For the whole length of that mile, the verges were covered in litter. I have never seen so much on a country lane. Why here? Do people make a special journey to throw away their cans and takeaways? I leave the lane at Edderthorpe and walk across newly hoed fields to rejoin the river where it puts on a bit of a spurt to loop around Middlewood Hall.

A diversion up the hill into the village of Darfield, and then I am back down on the Dearne flood plain, managed along here as a nature reserve.

As the light is fading I emerge onto the Trans Pennine Trail, virtually on the doorstep of my Premier Inn for the night. Déjà vu.

Why is my room always at the far end of the corridor?

***

THE DEARNE WAY – TWO.

8 Replies

West Clayton to Barnsley. Artful dodging.

The Dearne Way website has this information for following the river through Bretton Country Park –

MARCH 2023:It has been reported that the gated entry point to Yorkshire Sculpture Park off Huddersfield Road (SE 295123), at the eastern end of Bretton Country Park, is now locked, with walkers asked to pay the ticket price of 9 pounds to make use of the previously permissive paths through the Park.

The YSP website says:
“You are free to walk along the public bridleway between West Bretton and High Hoyland. Exiting this path and entering YSP Grounds will require an admissions ticket. Ticket checks take place across the Parkland, including at Cascade Bridge, where the bridleway passes through YSP.”

Our GPX file for this LDP has been changed to make use of only the two Right of Way (the Public Bridleway and the Footpath from Haigh to Litherop Road) through the Park. (Should YSP change their policy, the original route may be reinstated.)

The OS map clearly still shows the Way staying close to the river on the permissive path to exit at the eastern gate. The situation hasn’t been resolved, and the up-to-date GPX follows a public footpath through the fields south of the river thus denying the walker a highlight of the valley. Whilst technically correct it seems churlish of YSP to penalise the infrequent Dearne Way walker.

An early breakfast at my luxurious hotel lets me catch the scheduled X1 bus to where I finished yesterday. This should mean I won’t be walking in the dark tonight. The day’s weather looks promising.

I cross the River Dearne by the packhorse bridge, as folks have been doing since the 1400s.

Nondescript lanes head away from the industrialised valley taking me towards the sewage farm, where I drop into conversation with a local man and his dog on subjects far and wide. Most of it is of no relevance to this post, you know how sometimes one strikes up an instant ‘friendship’ with a total stranger. What is of relevance is that he tells me of a scheme to create reedbeds alongside the Dearne for environmental and conservation measures. He proudly takes me to view the workings which stretch for acres. Diggers and other unidentifiable machines are busy preparing the ground. It all looks chaotic and a mess, but let’s return in a year or so when the reeds are established.

The footpath through the area is clearly signed and well-surfaced. This makes my mind up as to my onward strategy. I still hadn’t decided which route to take through Bretton Park, but now that I have passed the works, I am more or less committed to following the original way on the Bridleway into the YSP. I dispense with the GPX version for now. Didn’t you just know I would?

Waymarking hasn’t been consistent and disappears altogether in the neglected fields rising to the park.

The signage on the bridleway at the entrance is rather misleading. I ignore it and march toward the bridge; workmen appear surprised to see me, as the park probably hasn’t opened officially, but say nothing. Work is being carried out on the Cascade Bridge, but I don’t need to cross it.

I follow the course of the Dearne downstream. There are no other visitors, as it has just turned 10 am when the park opens. Another walker with a rucksack appears; he, like me, has entered on a PRoW, following a walk in a book by well-known outdoor author Paul Hannon. We compare experiences; he walked The Dearne Way several years ago using a now out-of-print booklet.

Strolling past the Caro installations and into the Henry Moore field. The sunshine highlights the curves and colours. Today I’m not rushing about trying to see everything, just absorbing the space’s ambience. Sculptures like these are so much better seen in a large natural arena.

On past the lower bridge, Damien Hurst dominates with his oversized figures. I’m not really a fan of his, but I do appreciate his interpretation of the girl who, for years, represented the Spastics Society ( now Scope) with her collection box ransacked. Society broken.

Do you remember this?

I’ve never been as far as the Weston at the eastern gate of the park. A light and airy building. It’s coffee time, so I visit their café or should I call it a restaurant. It has built up a reputation for fine dining, reflected by the clientele this morning. My small cup of coffee costs over £4, and it doesn’t even come with a token biscuit.

But a fantastic bonus, well worth the price of the coffee, the adjacent gallery is just opening with an exhibition of Elisabeth Frink’s paintings and statues. The space is so beautiful with a ‘slotted’ ceiling letting in a pale light complementing the natural colours of the walls.

Her work is well represented, with a group of her trademark heads centre stage. Beautiful animal prints, plaster dogs, weird bird bronzes, and more. Despite being in the middle of a long walk, I spend much time enjoying the exhibits. (on until February) It was only recently that I visited another Frink collection in Swindon. I could fill a full post on this gallery alone; maybe I will when I get home; here is a selection.

In contrast, the next half mile next to a busy dual carriageway and roundabouts to the motorway is mad. I am relieved to reach the fields alongside the Dearne. Easy walking with once again the Autumn colours taking my attention. A seat appears on cue for my lunch break.

As Darton comes closer, the dog walkers appear from everywhere, all have a friendly Yorkshire disposition. For a small place, Darton seems full of cafes, restaurants and takeaways. I settle on the friendly gluten-free cafe, where my coffee costs only £2 this time, and I catch up on all the local gossip.

I still have a fair way to go.

Suburbian streets dominate for a while until I reach an abandoned railway heading east through former colliery sites. Crossing the Dearne once more, I share fields for some time with lots of ponies. Are they descendants of the pit ponies?

I become disorientated and quarter the compass before finding my way out of the fields and onto what was once the towpath of the Barnsley Canal, built to transport coal from the area.

As I approach the town, the tarmac takes over, with all its detritus.

I wonder why the route doesn’t visit the Fleets, a large lake. So I divert to see a large fishing lake.

Asda superstore has to be circumnavigated; even though I need to pick up food for later I can’t face the scramble in there. I catch a bus up into town. I must say I am impressed with Barnsley town centre. The bus and rail station are integrated, and when you exit you are into the main pedestrianised shopping plaza. A permanent memorial to those who have died with Covid-19 and the unsung workers of the pandemic has been unveiled in Barnsley.

My bed for the night is in the Premier Inn, which happens to be at the highest point of the town. The only entrance I find is through a multistorey carpark. A friendly welcome. My room is on a higher floor with good views over the town.

***

THE DEARNE WAY – ONE.

14 Replies

Birdsedge to Clayton West. “Nobbut a trickle”

The day doesn’t start well. I have planned a short day’s walking as I have first to cross the Pennines. The usual bus to Preston, then trains to Huddersfield, followed by another bus journey to the walk’s start. It’s all a little complicated, but I had figured on the 8.50 train to Huddersfield, changing at Wigan and Manchester Victoria. This would have me on a bus to the start at lunchtime. While having my coffee at home, an email informs me that the train has been cancelled. Any later, I would struggle to connect with the bus, leaving me short of time in the afternoon; it’s getting dark by four. I need to catch an earlier train, but time is passing. I skip breakfast, run for a bus, and arrive at Preston station with two minutes to spare. The rest of the journey goes more or less to plan despite Northern Rail at Victoria verging on the chaotic.

A familiar figure outside Huddersfield Station.

When we arrive at Birdsedge, I’m the only one left on the bus, a few houses and an old spinning mill.
There is a faded but encouraging waymark for The Dearne Way on the FP sign from the road. The path wanders through the trees, skirting the mill’s lodge. The infant Dearne River, feeding the dam, is barely a trickle, and yet, in the past, it spawned all the industries down its course.
I’m on my way, and the weather is perfect, sun and blue sky, as promised. A few higher fields and walled lanes before I drop back down to the valley, here a woodland nature reserve. The autumn colours and the chirping birds are a joy. The path is hidden by the fallen leaves, and I swoosh through them like a young child. The water of the Dearne is barely visible. The way is proving more up and down than expected, but aren’t they all nowadays?

As I drop into Denby Dale, the many arched viaduct dominates the valley, header photo. The village came to prominence in the Industrial Revolution with mills and collieries. The railway arrived at the end of the C19th.

I join the village Pie Trail on cobbled paths. They have a strange history of giant pie-making here.

I’m content with a pot of tea in a friendly, high-street cafe. I learn how to pronounce Dearne – it’s Durn.

The route climbs out of the valley and traverses fields and woods with views over to the landmark Argiva transmission tower on Emley Moor. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emley_Moor_transmitting_station
Somewhere up here, I walk into the grounds of Bagden Hall; I am staying in the hotel here tonight, but I see the opportunity of walking a little farther, thus reducing tomorrow’s mileage. I am trusting that I will be able to catch a bus back.

Down below is the village of Scissett, which, like everywhere around here, was previously dominated by worsted mills. I arrive at the main road by Spring Grove mill, which has survived, minus its chimney, manufacturing mats and carpets.

Spring Grove Mill Early C20th.

Paths lead through new housing estates and a long railway tunnel to meet with the Dearne again – time for a photo.

I broke my camera last week, so I am making do with my phone this trip; there will be no zooming. What with using it for navigation and pictures the battery is getting low, but sufficient to seek out a bus stop in Clayton West just in time for the X1 to arrive and take me back past Scissett to Nortonthorpe Mill. I find a sneaky, unofficial way into the grounds of Bagden Hall.

The hotel looks impressive with its extensive gardens, now a ‘Wedding Venue’ like many country hotels trying to survive. The price is reasonable and they give me a free upgrade. Bagden Hall was originally built in the 1860s for Charles Norton, a wealthy mill owner who made his fortune running Nortonthorpe’s weaving mills in the valley, which supplied quality yarn to weavers for ‘fancy waistcoat goods’.

It was quite a busy day in one way and another.

***

THE DEARNE WAY.

9 Replies

A 32-mile route following the River Dearne from its source in the Pennines to its confluence with the River Don.

No, I hadn’t heard of it either.

We seem to be in a settled period of weather so my mind starts wandering and thinking of a few days away walking. I prefer a place-to-place walk over a one-centered one. I hesitate to call them long-distance walks as I have recently chosen a medium distance of 50 miles or so, giving me an average of about 10 miles per day. Cicerone Press is a good source of likely routes with new titles coming out every month; it’s worth subscribing to their newsletters.

This month, I noticed a new guide to a Pilgrim Route in Fife from Edinburgh to St. Andrews. It seemed to fit the bill perfectly. A little research showed no transport or accommodation problems. My medical appointments are hopefully now dwindling and I was free until past the middle of the month. I started to book it when a nagging doubt came into my brain. Something is happening on the 12th, of course, a standing arrangement with a friend, which I was looking forward to and wouldn’t want to change. I wonder why I didn’t write it on the calendar in the first place. Phew. (That day went well and Sir Hugh has written it up, I have reblogged it with his permission)

My window of opportunity has now narrowed, but undaunted, I look for a possible shorter alternative. Fife can wait till later. The website of the LDWA has a search facility. I type in Yorkshire 25 – 35 miles. Hey, presto, The Duerne Way appears. There are links to downloadable maps, directions and background information, all sounding interesting. It is marked on OS mapping and I believe it has been waymarked at some stage, depicting a miner’s lamp. Start thinking coal, mills, canals, and rail.

Booking.com comes into action for the first night, but I must revert to Premier Inns for the next two. Seth is booked into his favourite cattery and a train ticket purchased to Huddersfield. Getting to the start of the walk from Huddersfield may be challenging, but I’ve planned a short afternoon for that day.

Here is where I’m heading. Time to get the flat cap out.

Bleasdale with BC

2 Replies

Tuesday 12th November 2024 Kemple End has been a fantasy location for a number of years with its quirky name tickling my imagination. Bowland Climber has mentioned it many times during our years of walking together but it has remained a kind of mystery for me, even to my questioning its actual existence, and somehow we…

Click to view
Bleasdale with BC

I didn’t have time to write this one, so I’m grateful for Sir Hugh’s version.

I have one photo to add. Sir Hugh on the slippery slope. It is more straightforward to climb back up than descend.

GOOD DAY SUNSHINE.

9 Replies

As a counterpoint to Mike’s recent post, Seven Rooms of Gloom, which was published only a day ago, https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/147350/posts/5450048239 this will raise your spirits. The gloom has gone.

My spirits are raised this morning as the sun appears for the first time in a fortnight. I have a few jobs to complete before I go away later in the week, but soon after lunch I’m up on the fell. I park up at Crowshaw Quarry, the scene of Probes’ brilliant new boulder problem last week. There is a good view of Pendle from up here, one for another time.

I take the small track, leaving the road just down from the parking. Years ago, this was the start of one of my regular fell runs. In fact, so many years ago, that the mature plantations hereabouts were cut down, and a new one planted, which is itself coming slowly to maturity. Forestry coming full cycle.

I haven’t been up this way for a few months, and I notice the increased erosion caused by mountain bikes with fatter wheels and, in many cases, electric assistance. I commented about this recently, so will let it drop today – after all the sun is shining.

Onwards through the trees towards the infant Brownslow Brook, where I brought my children and then my grandchildren to learn the art of dam building. As I said, I haven’t been this way for a while, and there ahead of me is another recently harvested area of forest, it does look unsightly. As you climb the hill away from the bridge, the track everybody uses goes through mature beech and pine trees. But now, one of those metal gates has appeared, suggesting the path goes up to the right of the fence towards Green Thorn farm. Looking at the map, the original PRofW does go that way. Let’s see what the ‘path’ is like. For a start, the gate, which must only have been up a few weeks, isn’t shutting correctly because one of the uprights isn’t vertical and is wobbling in the soft ground. The contractors have strimmed a corridor through the reeds, but the ground is boggy and will deteriorate quickly with much footfall. I suspect most regulars will use the well-worn path through the trees. The PRofW, which was long abandoned, went up to the farmhouse, but now another metal gate brings one out of their land, bypassing the farm, back onto the forest path. What a waste of money. Red dots on this map show the gates and the alternative paths. Time will tell.

I soon reach one of the main forestry roads but continue straight across and up on a smaller path through a felled area. Strange birds fly overhead. Yesterday, I managed to mangle my camera’s zoom lens, which I suspect is beyond repair, so now relying on my phone.

I have thoughts of continuing to the trig point but can’t face the struggle through the fallen trees and all the mud. I’m content to stroll back along the forest road; just look at that blue sky.
Confusion creeps in at another recent area of felling. It is surprising how different things look when the trees I’ve walked past for countless years are gone. But Pendle is always there…

…as is my favourite beech.

***

I can’t believe it, but people are coming out of Sainsbury’s with Christmas Trees.

COUNTING STEPS,

14 Replies

Rivington under anticyclonic gloom

My phone counts steps for me every day, god knows what other information it collects. Those steps don’t mean much to me. I’m still recording miles walked and feet ascended, I know I should have gone metric by now. Today was a day of steps which were too numerous to count.

I find myself in Chorley for a hospital appointment. Once it is over I take the opportunity to visit B&Q and Halfords in town. A quick lunch is bought from the nearby Asda and it is decision time, what to do with the rest of the day? A recent post from Michael at https://michaelgraeme.wordpress.com/2024/10/28/out-and-about-around-rivington-and-anglezarke-again/ was at the back of my mind. I haven’t visited Rivington Terraced Gardens for years and in the meantime, a great deal of restoration work has been carried out unearthing many paths and ruins. Time to go and have a look with the added promise of the autumn colours highlighted in Michael’s post.

I park on one of the many lanes, I don’t have a map of the site so just set off on a likely path.

Soon I find one of the regular explanatory boards and take a poor picture of their rather indistinct plan, which may give me a general idea of my whereabouts. I would suggest that anyone visiting get a copy of a map and certainly, if you are interested in the surprisingly short history of the estate, (started in 1900, abandoned in 1925) read this excellent Lancashire Past article. I wish I had before visiting.

A History of Lever Park and Rivington Terrace Gardens, near Horwich

To start with the sun is trying to shine and the woods are resplendent. I find myself walking through some sort of remembrance garden planted with foreign-looking conifers. It is half term and there are lots of family groups out enjoying the day.

Coming to the steeper part I see a bridge over a beck tumbling down from the now misty heights and there alongside it a series of stepped paths. I set off up the steep and slippery steps built improbably into the hillside. They have been cleverly constructed of cantilevered gritstone slabs. Upwards I go, not knowing whether the steps will lead me anywhere. Should I even be here, there is certainly nobody else about all of a sudden. Up ahead a pallisaded bridge crosses the ravine and I pause to look back down. Eschewing the traversing trail I tackle more exposed steps winding up alongside the ravine, there is another bridge ahead and here I find a a board explaining the history and construction of The Ravine.

There doesn’t seem to be a way ahead until I spot more steps sloping across the steep hillside which eventually bring me onto a terrace with artificial caves. I had just read that these were the ‘Bear Caves’ constructed to house exotic ferns. There was abundant greenery everywhere, all this had been lost under heavy vegetation until the recent clearings in the last decade. No wonder I have never been here before.

Even more steps, until I suddenly come to a rocky embattlement and escape through an archway into the Japanese Garden with its romantic lake. Thomas Mawson who designed these terraced gardens between 1905-1922 for soap magnate Lord Leverhulme was heavily influenced by Italian and Japanese garden landscaping. I feel I’m exploring the remains of a lost civilisation.

The lakeside is a popular picnic area and I’m afraid that the ever-present problem of litter is evident here, and in other areas of the gardens.

Above the lake the stables and enclosed Kitchen Gardens are reached, all rescued from the undergrowth.Everything was done on a grand scale in Lord Leverhulme’s era.

I cross a wide track past one of the original entrances to the gardens and then a long flight of more steps and through an arch into The Lawns. At one time there were six ‘summer houses’, two have survived and been restored. They gave shelter and views out over the lawns and tennis courts. From the balcony atop one of the summer houses you can see how land had been escavated to create the level lawns.

I’m almost at the top of the gardens by now but, you guessed it, more steps take me up to a levelled site where once stood Roynton Cottage and then The Bungalow, one of Lord Leverhulme’s many residences. Read about the chequered history on that Lancashire Past post. All that remains now and recently uncovered is its footprint.

From here it was a short hop to The Pigeon Tower, Lady Leverhulme’s hideaway. Finally, I recognised somewhere I had visited before, usually on the way up to Rivington Pike and Winter Hill. I won’t be going up the Pike today as we are in thick mist now. Dovecotes are seen in the wall in the first photo.

I work my way carefully down more slippery steps until I’m on top of a small loggia looking out over The Italian Lake. The water level is low due to seepage and it’s not looking its best. The mist is creeping down the terraces.

The steps continue, I’m now looking for the Seven-Arched Bridge which I remember was hereabouts. I find it by unwittingly walking over it. The lane below is one of the many roads crisscrossing the estate.

Scrambling down the last bit of hillside I come to the South Lodge remains. Originally there were four lodges on the roads into the estate.

A wide track descends to the Great House Barn, which I remember as a basic cafe under a cruck roof. Now it looks more like a wedding venue, I don’t have the nerve to cross their threshold in my muddy boots.

All I have to do now is find my car, it’s down one of these roads.

My phone says I have stepped 5000 times, it felt like that. I probably walked no more than two miles. The sun disappeared early on so I never saw the best of the autumn colours, but I discovered a whole new world with a fascinating history, and the mellow mists added to the atmosphere. I wonder how many workers Sir Levehulme employed to construct his vision and how many to maintain it? Now we are mainly left with volunteers to keep the gardens accessible.

If you have two or three hours to spare come and get yourself lost in this lost world.

CHANGING CLOCKS. CHANGING PATHS. CHANGING TIMES.

9 Replies

I didn’t know where I was heading for as I drove up onto the fell. Somehow the extra hour has thrown me today and it is lunchtime before I stir. I wondered about some bouldering at CraigY but a cold wind dissuaded me. I drove farther up, it looked like half of Preston had parked along the road to access the forest tracks. Too many people and dogs, so I continue to quieter Kemple End and squeeze into a parking spot. One of my favourite walks over the years was a small permissive path avoiding the forest roads, starting through a gateway, SD 689405, just down the hill and then snaking up through the trees eventually arriving at Sam’s Best View, if you remember it.

Things have changed. A few years ago a large area of forest on the Northern scarp was harvested and then we had the storms causing more damage to the remaining plantation. I tried to find a suitable way up this end of the fell in the heatwave of June 2023. here.

It will be interesting to have another look. That is how my walk for today evolved.

Through the gateway on a path of fallen leaves, I start the climb. The path here is quite broad and obviously used by mountain bikes. As it narrows they, the mountain bikers, have been trimming back the branches, filling potholes and creating jumps over obstacles.

Out of interest, a PRoW, marked on the map, crossing my track at SD678410 has to all extent disappeared. Blocked on the left by fallen trees and lost on the right from lack of use. Higher up some steep downhill tracks lead off right, specifically created by the mountain bikers. They look suicidal.

I become diverted by a prominent group of fungi often seen in coniferous forests. ?Hebeloma mesophaeum – Veiled Poisonpie.Moving on I recognise the dogleg in the path and follow it into the denser forest. Again branches have recently been cut back. This little used, at the time, path went right along the ridge but now after less than a quarter of a mile comes out into the area felled a few years ago.

An area of devastation which last June I couldn’t penetrate but now a path winds its way through the stumps and newly planted trees. The mountain bikers are to be thanked for this, they have carved out a track which can now be followed by walkers without having to trudge up the forest road.

There are good views back to Pendle Hill, down into the Hodder Valley and way over the Bowland Fells to Pen Y Ghent and Ingleborough.

I walk on and eventually come out at what was Sam’s Best View before the trees obscured it. I’m pleased that the path connects up again with the main ridge path and given time and use as the forest regrows will become a pleasant route sought out by the discerning walker. I suspect that the bikers will be more instrumental than walkers in keeping it open.

And there lies a problem. When I started ‘mountain biking’ 40 years ago we kept mainly to bridleways and there weren’t many of us. Most of the uphills we walked, or at least I did. Our tyres weren’t much fatter than road tyres but even then we were aware of the erosion caused by bikes on fragile ground. Fast forward four decades and there are mountain bikers everywhere, not necessarily strictly legally. The bikes have changed with full suspension, dropping seat posts and wider tyres. More importantly in recent years, electric mountain bikes have appeared. They are heavier and if used aggressively tear up the ground in an accelerating time. No more walking uphill. We are usually only aware of environmental damage when it is almost too late.

It’s great to see youngsters enjoying the trails on Longridge Fell and elsewhere but if used irresponsibly on footpaths may bring them into conflict with other users. Places like Gisburn Forest and Llandegla have been specifically ‘designed’ for mountain biking with trails for all abilities separated from other users. There is so much scope on Longridge Fell for mountain biking, as witnessed by the self-made innovative trails appearing everywhere. I wonder whether some input should be with the landowners, Tilhill Forestry, into developing a mountain biking environment. I’m well aware that could stifle and regulate the whole process. Pros and cons.

Let’s leave that debate to another time, there are far worse things happening in the world.

I wander back down the forest road, the clocks have changed and it will be dark a lot sooner today.

That only leaves me with the obligatory Autumn Leaf image. Pardon the pun.

PRIME TIME.

11 Replies

I don’t on principle use Amazon, there is always a more direct online buying option. In any case, I try to buy local and support the shops in the village. So, you’ve guessed it I don’t have a Prime account. There will be a fair number of people in the Ribble Valley today cursing their Prime membership, their eagerly awaited parcels are stuck in the back of a van that is stuck on a bridleway not far from here.

I came out for a little exercise, to admire the autumn colours and do some fungal exploring. It’s that time of year, Prime Time.

The leaves are turning golden and falling fast at the same time. They are falling all around me like snow every time the wind blows. The stream is more lively than usual after some heavy rain in recent days. Excited children are playing poo sticks from the bridge, it is half-term for many. You may recognise where I am.

Most of the fungi I find are on dead wood, there are so many trees down from those frequent storms we are experiencing. A good find is a clump of ‘Jelly Ears’, its previous name now not acceptable, growing on a fallen beech. Auricularia auricula-judae has a soft, jelly-like texture. Though edible, it is not held in high culinary regard. It has been likened to “eating an Indian rubber” Though I read that it can be dried to give added flavour to stews. I leave it where I found it.

Wandering back along that bridleway I hear raised voices ahead, not the children I saw before. No there is some loud cursing going on. There, stuck half on and half off the narrowing track is a delivery van. Once alongside, I see that it is an Amazon Van, the blue type with ‘Prime’ blazoned down the side. It is a mystery as to how he progressed this far. Sat nav surely can’t be fully blamed, a hint of human error becomes apparent when the driver asks me “Can I get out if I drive on?” A resounding NO.

Another van appears at the end of the lane, no doubt sent Prime delivery from Amazon. The circus begins after some damming words between the colleagues. A tow line is set up and van number two starts pulling, only for the stricken van to slide further off the narrow track into the vegetation. More cursing ensues. The next try, I’m not sure that the two protagonists are on the same wavelength, only results in the ‘Prime’ van taking a decided lean to the port side. Now it is balanced on two wheels and in imminent danger of rolling down the hillside. My suggestion that they should remove the parcels before it is too late doesn’t go down too well. There is urgent talk on mobiles to the head office of tractors, cranes and winches.

Time to retire, it will be dark in an hour.

My curiosity is such that I am considering another nature walk along here tomorrow morning, purely for fungal research interests.

SANDSIDE DISCOVERIES.

16 Replies

When is a short walk getting longer? When you combine Sir Hugh with BC.

It needed several phone calls to arrange this short walk, we seem to have developed busy diaries these days. It shouldn’t be like that for happily retired carefree outdoor folk.

I’ve been helping to keep Cicerone Press in business recently, ending up buying two copies of their new Sarsen Way guide and my latest acquisition is 15 Short Walks In Arnside and Silverdale. How can I even suggest to Arnside resident and aficionado, Sir Hugh, a walk on his territory?

Walk 4. Sandside, Dallam Tower and Haverbrack in the new book looks good and covers some new ground for me. My local guide suggests we don’t park on the roadside at Sandside, the tide often floods this area. I’m happy to take his advice and park higher on the outskirts of Storth. Take note, Cicerone.

Historical photo.

Fishermen are just getting set up on the promenade for the incoming tide of Dabs.

We escape onto a footpath that follows the old railway. This looks interesting.

And it was. An impressive railway* cutting through the limestone of some length. I was distracted by some enticing lines up the rock faces. Sir Hugh tells me there is a geocache up there somewhere.

Under two bridges and out of the cutting we hit the minor road past old warehouses, Sandside was from Elizabethan times a major port, Milnthorpe Port, when ships moored up with the high tide to staves in the estuary. Coal and goods were unloaded and lime, gunpowder, and wool were exported. The old customs house has survived and a warehouse has been upgraded to office space. The warehouse and limekilns are alongside the track. A on my map. When the Arnside viaduct was built in 1857 this trade was cut off. A business park has sprung up along the road and we passed RocknRun where I spent a small fortune in the past,

My first suggested diversion was to seek out Hollins Well. We were able to follow a RofW across fields until we came face to face with a local shoot. They don’t know of the well but Sir Hugh has vague memories of visiting it, so we trespass a little to find it. It wasn’t really much to look at – a small stone trough draining under a wall to a concrete one. B on my map.

Here is a video of Sir Hugh escaping down the trenches…

Backtracking we crossed the road to follow the old railway* embankment. The path information board has dire warnings.

The embankment didn’t go far before we were down on the marsh alongside the River Bela. The viaduct of the railway was taken down in 1963, its remains may be seen either side of the Bela.

Historic Bela Viaduct, Wikipedia.

And its red sandstone blocks scattered around the area.

* Arnside to Hincaster Railway was built in 1876 and closed in 1963. It was built primarily for use by mineral trains carrying coke and iron ore from County Durham to various ironworks in and around Barrow-in-Furness.

From the marsh, we have those wide views across the sands to the limestone escarpment of Whitbarrow Scar, laid down some 350 million years ago, It is difficult to get your head around that timescale and why is it standing proud when all around is eroded? The noise from the Greyag Geese is deafening from a quarter of a mile away.
Now alongside the Bela River, we approach a fast-flowing weir and in the distance the shapely early C19th turnpike Milnthorpe Bridge. All very photogenic.
We don’t cross the bridge but enter the grounds of Dallam Tower and follow the river upstream to the C18th footbridge, built as the crossing on the old lane from Milnthorpe to Storth. Lunch is taken on the parapets despite the fact we don’t seem to have walked far.

All around are the signs of autumn in the grand oak, beech and chestnut trees.The English knew how to create a country park.
Within the deer park, a pele tower was built on the site in about 1375 but demolished when the present house was built in 1720–23. But history suggests that there was a Saxon tower or motte on the hill above. On the OS map marked as Earthworks. C. This has been excavated to reveal stone ramparts. It is prominent on the hilltop but we skirt around just below it. Stopping to look at the views, getting one’s breath. There is the bridge over the Bela and there is nearby Milnthorpe, with St. Anthony’s Tower above it..

At the top of the field, we pass through a stylish stile into private lanes with private houses, with private views over to Farleton Fell.
Time for another deviation. On the map close by is The Dog Hole, D. which I can’t pass by. Sir Hugh tells me of the occasion when he found it in 2015 with the help of a local lady. Read his report for more information. https://conradwalks.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-dog-hole-sd-482-802.html

Off we go deep into the forest, there are paths everywhere, whether human or animal we aren’t sure. Limestone craglets cry out for a bit of bouldering. Sir Hugh sniffs the vicinity and strides out ahead to come straight to the site, An old rusting metal winch and the hole itself fenced in next to it.

(That’s not all true – we used GPS on our phones to track it down and escape afterwards) Otherwise, we might still have been in there)

Dropping down out of the woods Sir Hugh remembered an ancient oak in the middle of a field, that same local lady had pointed it out to him. You couldn’t miss it. Without getting up close it looked to be getting on for a thousand years old. E.

A stroll down the village street, good to see they still have a PO/shop. That view across the sands imprinted on my mind.

It had been a warm day and I don’t think I drank enough leading to mild dehydration which unfortunately put me off the rails for the next day.

Check out Sir Hugh’s view of the day – https://conradwalks.blogspot.com/2024/10/bowland-climber-explores-my-stamping.html

THE SARSEN WAY 7. Amesbury to Salisbury.

5 Replies

Switchbacks to Sarum.

It’s a crisp, sunny autumn morning. Leaving town I cross the Avon by an old bridge and shortly afterwards cross it again. I must check the map to see what’s happening.

Up and down the downs again, why did I think it would be all flat today?

The first village, Great Dunford, was only a few houses and a church.

As usual, I make my way to the church, dating from the C10th with very little mdern ‘improvements’

But I am distressed to see dog s*** in the church aisle. Can you believe it? I had nothing to clear it up with and nobody was about in the village to report it to. Disgusting.

I again cross the Avon to arrive at the Bridge Inn just in time for a morning coffee.

Back on the east bank, past Little Durnford’s one house and then into the woods for some more undulations. The bridleway I am following is probably an ancient route across these downs. Ahead on the horizon the distinctive spire of Salisbury Cathedral made an appearance and was there for the rest of the day. At 404ft the tallest church spire in England. (Preston’s St.Walburge’s is the third tallest after Salisbury and Norwich)

Coming out of the hills I pass this delightful cottage, aren’t they all?

And there in front of me is the earthworks of Old Sarum.

I didn’t realise it was so large. I have progressed from Barbury Castle to Avebury, and now the grandest of them all, Old Sarum. Despite often visiting Salisbury and Stonehenge*, whilst I worked down in Bournemouth, I was unaware of the existence of this ancient Iron Age fort with its Medieval Castle and Cathedral.

The Iron Age hillfort was established here about 400 BC. It was then occupied after the Roman conquest of Britain when it became known as Sorviodunum.

William the Conqueror recognised Old Sarum’s potential shortly after the Conquest in the C11th A motte was constructed in the centre of the hillfort, and then an inner set of timber fortifications created an ideal army base.

The inner castle was established and a section of the bailey was selected as the site for a new cathedral in 1075. Old Sarum’s importance as an administrative base grew and the new cathedral became a religious and learned centre.

In 1226 the cathedral was moved to nearby Salisbury, although the castle remained an administrative centre into the 14th century and then all was mostly abandoned.

(Stonehenge was accessible on foot from Amesbury but I had heard awful stories of overcommercialisation so I gave it a miss. There were so many other sites to be visited instead.)

I first walk around the outer ramparts, sometimes on the ridge and others in the ditch, a mile circuit with the castle mound central to it all.

Some lovely beech trees have established themselves along the ramparts.

There is a short section of the wall that once guarded the outer ramparts.

I then examine the footprint of the old cathedral.

I reluctantly pay English Heritage to look around the inner castle, reached by a bridge where the old draw bridge had existed.You need an aerial image to realise the full extent of Old Sarum.

It is all well documented, and I enjoy the experience, but is it worth £6.50?

Back on track, the cathedral spire is coming closer. Chatting with dog walkers, I receive lots of advice as to the best way into town but I stick to the Sarsen Way and PAT signs to the end and enjoy a rural route, avoiding roads.

That is until I get involved with new flood defence and parkland improvements.

But by six o’clock, I was in the centre of town, only a few blocks away from the cathedral.

It certainly hits you in the eye when getting close up. As you have seen the original cathedral was located at Old Sarum, two miles away until it was decided to move it to Salisbury. Foundation stones for the new building were laid in 1220. By 1258 the nave, transepts and choir were complete. The cloisters were added in 1240, and the tower and spire were constructed by 1330.

I am too late to go inside but enjoy the surroundings in the late afternoon sunshine. There are many American and Japanese voices around.

: Salisbury Cathedral.

: Salisbury Cathedral.

In the grounds was a statue by Elizabeth Frink set me off on a search which would lead me to the Swindon Art Gallery. I have admired her work at the Hepworth and YSP in the past.

‘This figure symbolises … human dignity and creativity over militarism and totalitarian disregard for human dignity and rights.’ Stephen Gardiner. Her tense but powerful presence exists beside the tourists and the worshipers.

I wanted to hold her hand at the end of my walk.

***

A convivial night was enjoyed at the Merchants House Hotel.

THE SARSEN WAY 6. Netheravon to Amesbury.

4 Replies

I can’t resist thatched cottages.

A series of small villages and churches along the Avon linked together by byways. My loss of the guidebook possibly means I walk on lanes more than necessary, but I make it to Amesbury, having enjoyed a shorter day.

I say my goodbyes to Swindon’s Travel Lodge and, carrying my worldly goods, walk up to the bus station for the last time. I need to choose a memorable mural for this last occasion.

She just wins over him…

In a more relaxed mood, I can take a later bus to Netheravon, where I finished yesterday. This morning, the little café/florist is open, so I can fuel up on coffee before departing. Whilst there, I witness an autumn floral display being created.

The River Avon is running high, but I am told by a resident that recent works to create bends and oxbows upstream have reduced the risk of flooding. The resident lives in this C16th cottage, the first of many I admire today.

Haxton, Figheldean, Ablington, Brigmerston, Milston, and Bulford all have their charms, with beautiful cottages and Saxchurches. The walking in between, often next to the Avon, is nice and flat for a change, not a down in sight.

Church of St. Michael and All Angels. Figheldean

The owner of this house in Figheldean tells me he needs to have the ridge repaired every 10 years and the whole thatched roof every 20. Finding the skilled people to undertake this and sourcing the materials is becoming more and more difficult.

Moving on….… the whole area is surrounded by MOD land. I never realised that the War Department was acquiring land way back in 1897 by compulsory purchase. At least it is back into community ownership now.

These puffballs were the largest I’ve ever seen, mobile alongside for scale.

Church of St. Mary. Milston.

The Avon is just over there.

St. Leonard’s Church. Bulford.

My arrival into town is still green but noisy from the busy bypass. It must be difficult for route planners to navigate relatively traffic-free ways through urban landscapes. I have no prior knowledge of Amesbury, but I read it may have the oldest continuous occupation in the country. Also in the news at the moment is the investigation into the Salisbury Novichok poisonings from 2018. The intended victims, The Skripals in Salisbury, just escaped with their lives. But Ms Sturgess living at the time in Amesbury wasn’t so lucky with the ‘perfume’ she used.

Lord’s Walk.

Strange.

My hotel is in the middle of town opposite the Abbey Church St. Mary and St. Melor. I have a look around it. Probably on this site since C9th, connected later to the town’s Abbey. The latter disappeared in the reformation, but the church survived for the local population. It remains an impressive building, Cathedral like.

My cosy hotel has a Thai restaurant which I enjoy in the evening. I’ve done well for food this week.

***

***

THE SARSEN WAY 5. Manningford to Netheravon.

6 Replies

High plains drifter.

The trudge to the bus station is a little damp this morning. This is how I feel –

But the rain stops before I alight from the bus at Manningford Bonhue. I know the start from yesterday and don’t miss the path leaving Wick Lane this time. It is a strange start through an industrial site, part of the Manningford estate. The way is diverted well away from the manor house itself. I seem to be sharing my route with PAT – the Pewsey and Avon Trail, their waymarks come in handy.

Soon I am beside the River Avon, just a stream at this stage. It will be my companion for much of the way from now on. This Avon has nothing to do with Shakespeare or Bristol, I never realised this one eventually enters the sea at Bournemouth, despite having worked down there for some time.

A trout farm diverting the waters.

St. James church, dating back to the C13th, has a large yew growing alongside it. Farther on this is the most amazing hedge I’ve ever seen –

After the inn, I follow the river downstream, but most of the time it is hidden away in the vegetation.

When I cross it again into the little village of Upavon, it seems to have doubled in size.

Thatched cottages start appearing more often. One in the village is having its ridge repaired.

The shop provides me with a morning coffee whilst I watch the village squirrel picking up morsels and then darting across the overhead wires. The day disappears quickly and I have only walked a couple of miles. Before I leave the village I spot yet another Sarsen Stone – this one commemorating some jubilee or other.

The route goes up onto Salisbury Plain, and I have in my mind only to follow it if the tops are clear. it doesn’t look that interesting. The tops are visible so I have to start the climb, which is all on the tarmac. Workers are digging a pit for pipelines, and all is white chalk. Photo opportunity missed there.

Higher, I’m looking down into a valley where a driven partridge shoot is taking place. Guns are becoming part of this holiday. I chat to a farmer who normally beats for the shoots hereabouts but is having a year off recovering from a shoulder operation. Thousands of partridges are bred each year. The customers today are scrap metal merchants, of all people, from the Thames Valley. They pay about £40 for each bird shot. My man is joining them for lunch and some heavy whisky drinking. Not my idea of a day’s fun. He excuses the slaughter by saying the victims are not native birds but red-legged ones from France. Time to move on.

I reach the edge of the military’s training ground. The red flag is flying, but my way skirts the danger zone.
The road cuts through the ancient Casterley Camp, an Iron Age fort.

The views are extensive but mainly featureless, Salisbury Plain stretches a long way.

I don’t feel easy up here. usually revelling in wide open spaces, and I’m glad to descend away from the range. Is it the background shooting disturbing me?

A bonus on the way down is a clear view of a nearby tumulus. Man has been coming this way for centuries.

Confusion comes into play at Compton, no idea what is going on here and I can’t find my way.

Thankfully I am now back in the Avon Valley at Enford with its picturesque cottages to save the day.

The last mile is through fields to suddenly emerge into Netheravon 5 minutes after a bus has departed. I’m left with over an hour until the next. The little café is closed despite saying it is open and there are no free samples at the brewery.

I have time to walk to the church whose origins go back to Saxon times. The tower is the oldest part and is the most prominent feature. The massive arched doorway is closed, but I gain entry around the corner. Inside the church is plainly featured with the tall arches of the tower dominant.

The next bus arrives, and I doze my way back to Swindon. The mural that catches my eye is one by Martin Travers of the South American native environmentalist Nemonte Nenquimo.

***

THE SARSEN WAY 4. Avebury to Manningford.

17 Replies

A long rambling route with a few surprises along the way.

I’m exploring alone deep inside the W Kennett Longbarrow, the tomb of some ancient dignitary or religious leader when I sense the rhythm of drums. Is this some strange mysterious happening? The area is full of legends and fanciful spiritual occurrences, try coming here at the Solcises. The sound of drums is growing louder by the second. Is there a hidden tape recording I’ve activated? All I can see at the deepest point, 30ft in, is a candle burning in a jar. I decide to get out, and once outside, discover the source of the mystic drumming – a merry group of modern pagans is heading up the hill with a drummer leading the way. My peaceful visit comes to an end, and I leave the barrow free for their ‘worshipping’.

Approach to the barrow.

Large sarsen stone.

Entrance.

Going in.

Deeper.

Farthest chamber.

The drummer approaches.

“The West Kennet Long Barrow was built sometime around 3650 BC. Over a period of between 10 – 30 years, the bones of at least 36 individuals were carefully placed in the five stone chambers before they were closed. It probably continued to be an important place for many generations after that. It is part of a cluster of around thirty centred on Avebury”

***

Let’s tell it as it is, I’m doing this stage backwards. Manningford to Avebury.

As you realise by now, I’m based in Swindon, at the functional Travel Lodge, and using buses to get me to and from the stages. This inevitably causes some anxiety

Is the timetable up to date? Do they run every day? Where is the bus stop? There is also some pressure on the day’s walking to avoid missing the last bus. I have had to endure, for me, some very early breakfasts in order to catch a suitably timed bus.

So it comes to today. Avebury is no problem but Manningford, or rather the Manningfords, there are three of them, all part of an ancient manor. They seem to be in the middle of nowhere. The main road bypasses them, but there are bus halts along the way. It will be safer to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere than to try to find those stops at the end of the day. Avebury will have plenty of buses into the evening.

On top of ‘bus anxiety’, I’ve now added ‘phone-map battery anxiety’. Somewhere last evening, probably on the bus, I lost my precious Sarsen Way guidebook. I’m now relying solely on my phone for mapping, which I’m never completely happy about. I miss the chatty information from the guide as much as the detailed route instructions and OS mapping. I scribble a rough version of the map as a backup, let’s see how I get on. ***

I choose a railway theme for this morning’s murals. Swindon was once the centre for building Great Western engines and rolling stock.

LukeGray depicts Brunel, one of the great railway engineers.

Another rail-themed mural takes my eye as I head for the bus station. This one was painted by Manchester artist Gavin Renshaw depicting a Castle Class locomotivefrom Swidon workshops.***

The X5, Swindon to Salisbury, goes my way. Alighting at a little bus shelter near Manningford Bohune. Someone has placed two chairs inside, I wouldn’t think many use this stop, it is as I said, in the middle of nowhere.

Thatched cottages start to appear as I walk up Wick Lane. I feel ‘down south’ at last. The walls have a lovely mix of flints and old bricks.

Still half asleep, I walk on too far and have to retrace my steps to find the almost hidden path over a wooden footbridge.

I’m the first to tread these fields this morning. I’m heading to the little St. Peter’s Church of Manningford Bruce. Built on a Roman site with evidence from the C12th. It was restored in 1882 when most of the painted interior was added. The reredos screen from that era is particularly fine.

I slip out of the back of the churchyard and along a wall, guarding the Manor House.

There is some primaeval swamp to be crossed in the next half hour, all alongside the infant Avon. Difficult to navigate without the guidebook.

From time to time I hit a minor lane with those exquisite thatched properties.

A railway appears out of nowhere. Could it be the main SW line?

A little farther on I come across a standing Sarsen stone, marking Swanborough Trump where in 871, Alfred the Great (of the burnt cakes fame) met his brother, Ethelred, on the way to fight the invading Danes,

I next find myself on the peaceful towpath of the Kennet and Avon Canal. In a mile or so I only see one boat moving. High above on the Pewsey Downs, I spot another ‘White Horse’.

Coming off the canal onto a road, I notice a sign for a farm cafe, Honeystreet. A small cluster of outlets in an old sawmill. As well as the café there is an antiques unit and a crop ring centre! I just opt for a coffee and lemon drizzle cake. An unexpected treat.

The Saxon church of St. Mary down the road in Alton Barnes has a plain interior with the remains of some lime paintings.

Across the stream, by unusual wooden turnstiles, and connected by a Sarsen paved path, constructed in 1830 for the rector serving both parishes to keep his cassocks clean, is All Saint’s Church in Alton Priory.

The perpendicular tower dominates the surrounding fields. The barn-like interior has big rustic roof trusses and open timbering. The chancel arch is all that remains of the church’s Norman past. The church still contains Jacobean pews. There are two trap doors, which I fail to open, above ancient, ?pagan, Sarsen stones.

Trapdoor.

The yew tree in the grounds is 1700 years old. So the tree predates Christianity. can you imagine that?

I notice on the outer walls of the tower what look like musket shitholes. Has somebody in the past been having target practice?

Here is a video with more information about those trapdoors.

The two churches have survived but most of the medieval villages they served have disappeared.

Leaving Alton Priors I notice this sarsen stone embellished with a white horse.

An old sunken bridleway, an extension of the Ridgeway, known as ‘The Hollow’, starts the climb onto the downs. It doesn’t receive much footfall. Small but distinct animal tracks cross it regularly, I try to imagine the little creatures on their nighttime wanderings. Fallen crab apples crunch under my boots with a heady cider aroma.

Now, onto the open down, I make my own way to the top of Walkers Hill, at 262m possibly the highest point of the Sarsen Way. I miss the obvious path. All around are earthworks and dykes, but I fail to find ‘Adam’s Grave’, a long barrow. The views over the vast array of downs are possibly the best I have had, but I know so little of them. They do look good for striding out on. There is a car park down below, so I meet walkers for the first time today.

Walkers Hill, with the White Horse out left.

The summit views eastwards.

Is this Adam’s Grave or was it the summit itself?

Once down near the road, I’m soon going back up again for a long stretch over another down. Somewhere I cross the, probably Saxon, Wansdyke but fail to spot it, there are so many grooves, ditches and depressions around here. My virtual drone isn’t working. In the woods descending, I have a close encounter with a princely Buzzard before it weaves away through the trees. Then on across Lurkeley Hill and through the folds of the downs to East Kennett.

Recognise this/

By the time I’m through the tidy hamlet of East Kennett, more thatched cottages, I’ve walked about 10 miles, but I want to complete the day by visiting the West Kennett Longbarrow farther to the west. I missed it when in Avebury yesterday.

So back up the down I go, hoping to have the place to myself – I almost do.

***

Backtracking I hit the busy A4 through West Kennett. The bus halt, by an abandoned telephone box, doesn’t look used and I wonder about walking on to Avebury but a bus appears on schedule to take me back to Swindon via a change in bustling Marlborough.

***

This evening’s mural, unknitting the past?

It’s been a long day, so I just get a quick Indian meal in the friendly Chaat café, on the way to my hotel.

THE SARSEN WAY 2. Chiseldon to Hackpen Hill. (Broad Hinton)

13 Replies

Up and down the downs.

This morning’s mural on the way to the bus station, a lively fox.

It is an early start at the bus station, which becomes very familiar to me over the next few days.

I’m not looking forward to walking the old railway track out of Chiseldon alongside the noisy main road. But it turns out to be quite pleasant, much more pleasant than the middle of the day above the shooting range on Burderop Down, which left me reeling. How to ruin a good walk.

Halfway along is the site of Chiseldon Army training camp, established in WWI with its own rail station and hospital, at one time it boasted a cycle brigade. All has completely disappeared, demolished in the 60’s.

A mile or so of the old railway, heading to Marlborough, the NCR482, perfect for cyclists, then I start climbing onto the downs. A narrow track where I become distracted by red berries in the hedgerow. Autumn is definitely here, it was only 4 degrees this morning. There is already loud distant banging. A young couple pass me bound for Avebury in the day, I think back to those days when all was possible. I’m happy to stroll along at 10 miles a day now and have time to spot this bee on a cornflower.

Ahead is Burderop Down, a small section of the Marlborough Downs which stretch across Wiltshire.

A well-defined tumulus is best photographed from above.

But by now, the noise which I’d heard since early on becomes deafening. My ears are taking a battering. Seriously, I wish I had earplugs with me. Marked on the map as a ‘Shooting School’ I feel under attack, they seem so close. This isn’t just the sound of clay pigeon targets. There are some very loud, high-velocity weapons being used. Why do we need to teach people to fire weapons of war, isn’t Hungerford near here? It’s not the army down there. Here is a short video to give you some idea. The noise stayed with me for the rest of the day.

What do local people think of this? Apparently, they shoot every day. Walkers I meet are equally distressed by it, one couple fearing for their safety.

Moving on, but not away from the continuous noise, which stays with me the rest of the day, I climb to the top of the Down where the views become outstanding. I am attracted to a standing Sarsen stone. This one isn’t ancient but a memorial to two local poets, Alfred Williams and Richard Jefferies.

“Still to find and still to follow,

joy in every hill and hollow.

Company in solitude” Alfred Williams.

“It is eternity now.

I am in the midst of it.

It is about me in the sunshine” Richard Jefferies.

I sit on a bench in the car park for Barbury Castle to ponder the above quotes and eat my lunch, looking out northwards over Swindon and much more. There is a toposcope, but I don’t know the geography from up here.

A gate leads into the country park and a short walk to the earthworks of Banbury Castle. They are massive. An outer ditch and an inner rampart enclosing an area of several football pitches. I estimate 400 metres across. The trail goes through the middle, but I take to the ramparts for a scenic circular navigation. I wonder at the labour that went into its construction nearly 3000 years ago. These earthworks are all better appreciated from the air.

Dropping down, we now join The Ridgeway, possibly Europe’s oldest road. This is classified as a Byway, and hence used by motorbikes, all today driving slowly and considerately. It heads south along the ridge with ever opening views of the chalk downs.

Looking down at one’s feet, the track is made up of chalk and flinty rocks, I can’t resist picking a nice piece to take home.

Several beech copses stand out by the ridge. There are lots of dog walkers out from the high carparks. Dumping of litter is a problem because of the ease of access.

At the road, I notice a sign to the Hackpen White Horse down below and a board telling of the White Horse Trail, a ninety mile route linking – you’ve guessed it – white horses, eight of them. Now there’s an idea, I even have a whitish horse pose for me.

I walk down the steep lane to the main road at Broad Hinton, to catch the number 49 bus back to Swindon. Using buses sometimes means short divergences from the trail, but I have no choice in view of the lack of accommodation. I will have to walk back up here tomorrow morning.

Swindon is my home for the next few days. I need to find a supermarket to top up on supplies it’s not easy in the centre where major building work is in progress. Today is Saturday, and I think I’ll give the busy restaurants a miss for a night in.

The weather has been perfect and hopefully will last.

Tonight’s bus station mural.

THE SARSEN WAY 1. Swindon to Chiseldon.

5 Replies

The first step.

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Lao Tzu. Thankfully I’m not doing a thousand miles, the Sarsen Way is only around 50 miles.

On my train journey down I am pleased I’m not returning to Telford. All trains from Wolverhampton to there are cancelled due to flooding. On the other hand my train to Bristol makes good time, but I notice all the water lying in the fields. I then receive a text telling me that my train to Swindon has been cancelled.

I look at other means of transport between Bristol and Swindon, i.e., the bus. There is one in a couple of hours, I’m tempted to book it as a safety net. Let’s see what happens in Bristol first. Yes, my train is cancelled, but the express to London is going even if delayed. I jump on, and we make very slow progress through the actual flood waters. Announcements talk of claiming for delays on the internet, I will leave that until I’m home, What do the people without internet do?

I am pleased I postponed this trip down south for a week, I would have been caught in all the downpours over the last few days.

I’m in Swindon to start my walk, the Sarsen Way, down to Salisbury. I’m hoping to do a few miles this afternoon to Chiseldon. I arrive with time to spare, so catch a bus to the start at Coate Water Country Park.

There is no big send off, only a small waymark on a post. The high diving platform juts out into the lake, swans and pigeons are being fed. Walking around the lake is very pleasant, with lots of mature trees. Everyone else is dog walking, the nation must be getting fitter with all these dogs.

A straight, tarmacked, broad path leads to the pedestrian bridge over the motorway. The bridge must have cost a fortune with its spiralling concrete.

The noise of the traffic slowly subsides as I wander across lowland downs. A few waymarks are spotted, but l mainly just follow the trodden path on the ground.

In parts the summer growth hides the way, not a lot of traffic.

The rest of the afternoon is alongside a lively little chalky stream which was at one time dammed for the village to wash their sheep. There is nobody about.

I climb up into the village of Chiseldon, where there used to be a railway station. I pass my first Sarsen stone, forgetting to take a photo of it, and the first thatched cottage of the trip.

The first test of my logistics comes at the lonely bus stop, but the number 80 appears and I’m back in Swindon in no time. The centre of Swindon is a mess at present with major road and infrastructure changes taking place. My walk to my hotel is hemmed in by metal fencing which is relieved by artworks painted by local artists on the boarding. Some are commissioned and accredited, others are more graffiti-style.

Once settled in the Travel Lodge, my home for 5 days, I wander up the road to Regent Circus where it is all happening. There are restaurants and cafes toe to toe. Seeking peace and quiet I search out Chennai Dosa, a chain of southern Indian restaurants. For a franchise their cafes offer really good food at reasonable prices. Rasam Vadai and Masala Dosa.

Meanwhile the girls are arriving at the Meca for a Friday night out, modesty prevents any photographs.

It is always good to get a few miles done after all that travelling and more to the point it will make tomorrow shorter.

FUNGAL ABUNDANCE?

4 Replies

Am I pleased I didn’t set forth on the Sarsen Way down in Wiltshire last week? They have had more than their fair share of rain. Pottered around at home, took delivery of a new cycle (more of that later), done a bit of easy bouldering in the quarries, and had a few walks up the fell on the better days.

My eldest grandson came to stay for a couple of days and we ventured onto the now, once again, boggy fell. It will only get worse as the year progresses.

What struck me was the amount of fungi already springing up amongst the trees. Using the phone’s aps we tried our best to identify most of them. We have been short of insects this year so let’s hope for an abundant fungal autumn.

I have made it my intention this autumn to become more proficient at fungal identification, did I say that last year? There are plenty of trees down in the woods for them to grow on. Must remember to take my camera next time.

SEARCHING SARSEN STONES.

13 Replies

THE SARSEN WAY, Swindon to Salisbury.

First the scientific bit from a Gerald Lucy, (GeoEssex).

The story of how sarsens were formed starts in the Palaeocene epoch, about 55 million years ago, just after the extinction of the dinosaurs. At this time a thick layer of sand and gravel, known as the Reading Beds was laid down over much of southern England on top of the Chalk, and after it was deposited it was raised above sea level. This was around the end of the Palaeocene and the beginning of the Eocene epochs, which was a time of great warmth on planet Earth. During this time ground water containing dissolved silica (quartz) cemented patches of the sand into a tough layer of sandstone called a ‘silcrete’. This layer was extremely resistant to erosion but it eventually broke up into boulders. As the sands were washed away the silcrete boulders remained on the surface of the ground and these are known as sarsens.

I receive regular newsletters from Cicerone Press, that wonderful guide book publisher. What popped up this week was a new guide to The Sarsen Way between Swindon and Salisbury in Wiltshire. Part of the The Great Chalk Way which runs from Lyme Regis, Dorset, to the Wash in Norfolk. The new guide traces a route through the Downs south of Swindon, visiting many of the pre-historic sites. Neolithic henges and Stone Circles, Bronze Age barrows, Iron Age forts as well as many village churches and I hope cosy pubs. I’m always looking for something new and not too challenging.

The route has been developed by The Friends of The Ridgeway who have long campaigned for the preservation of the ancient Ridgeway paths. It has made an appearance on the latest OS maps and is apparently waymarked on the ground, in some places sharing with other LDWs.

Apart from the larger towns, accommodation is thin on the ground. The ends of many stages have no suitable one night lodging. The fashion now is apartments or houses booked for a week, which are of no use to the backpacker. Several of the village pubs have the ridiculous two night minimum stay even mid week, and don’t have many vacancies. Its a popular area with the likes of Avebury, Stonehenge and Salisbury to visit. So as I did in the Lakes, the other week, I’m going to town base and hopefully make use of the buses to move me around the county. Three nights in Swindon, three in Amesbury and the last in Salisbury.

The guide book also includes a shorter continuation walk to Shaftesbury, the Cranborne Droves Way, taking two to three days, with even more accommodation problems and convoluted transport logistics. Originally I planned to return from Salisbury to be home for my next cataract operation but that has been delayed so if the weather is good and I’m feeling fresh I may try and include the Droves Way.

As I write this the TV has just given a weather warning for the south west. Thunder, lightning and heavy rain for a few days. I think I’ll postpone my trip for a little while.

PS. Thunderstorms and heavy rain have hit many parts of England and Wales since Friday, causing some disruption. Throughout Saturday and into Sunday morning, there were 13,000 lightning strikes recorded.

MORE BOLTON-BY-BOWLAND HISTORY.

13 Replies

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.

***

PENRITH ANTIQUITIES.

15 Replies

One of the books I bought from Verey’s excellent shop in Pooley Bridge was a guide to stone circles in the Lakes. It transpires there are two circular early bronze age structures right next to the motorway as it passes Penrith. Though not technically stone circles they must be worth looking at. With a bit more delving I find a walk encompassing them as well as Brougham Castle and Hall.

I think I mentioned the base of a medieval cross on land next to where I catch my bus each day. It turns out to be grade II* listed and described as possibly used as a plague stone in the C14th.

The Dog Beck, Wetherspoons, where I supped a pint most nights last week also turns out to be an early C19th Grade II listed building. Was it originally an inn? I’m now able to say my drinking was for historical research purposes.

I have already looked around the remains of Penrith Castle but sadly not explored the old market town more thoroughly. One can’t do everything. But on my last morning I catch the 9 o’clock bus for the last time this trip. I only go a few stops to Eamont Bridge, here I pick up the trail.

King Arthur’s Round Table is marked on the map but the Henge circle is thousands of years older than him. A gateway gives access to the circle in a rough field right next to the road. In fact the road has cut across the northern side of the circle. I wander around trying to take photos that show up the banking.

Across the way is a slip road signed to Mayburgh Henge, I had passed it daily on the bus and noticed a large Millennium Stone on a verge.

From the visit Cumbria site –

“This fifty tonne block of granite was transported from Shap quarry, erected here and dedicated on July 2nd 2000 by the Bishop of Penrith at the culmination of the Eden Millennium Festival.

The site was chosen because of its association with neighbouring Mayburgh Henge. The granite is 330 million years old, and the Monument is intended to last thousands of years.

In a trench round the base are buried about 2,000 small stones decorated mostly by primary school children of Eden and placed there at the dedication service as birthday presents for Jesus’ 2000th birthday.

The carved symbols on three sides of the Monument are an Alpha, a Cross with the number 2000, and an Omega. The Alpha and the Omega are the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet and represent the beginning and the end, the past and the future, God the Creator and God the Holy Spirit. The Cross and the 2000 represent the present, 2,000 years of Christianity, and Jesus Christ our Lord alive with us today”

On the side road right next to the motorway was the gate giving access to Mayburgh Henge.

This is a much larger banked circular Henge . The banking is up to 20ft high and is composed of millions of pebbles from the nearby River Lowther.One only sees the large central standing stone once on the banking or from the eastern entrance.

Looking at older documents there were four standing stones in place in the C18th. It is thought that these henges, there was a smaller one close by, were possibly meeting places or Neolithic ceremonial centres. It is difficult to appreciate their size and shape on the ground, aerial photos are needed.

Visit Cumbria’s image.

I cross the River Eamont not on the grade1 listed late medieval structure, but by the utilitarian metal foot bridge alongside.

A pleasant interlude of walking alongside the river follows. At one point I spot the abutments of a footbridge across the Eamont, has it been washed away in recent times?

Up ahead I catch the first glimpses of Brougham Castle. bruam is the local pronunciation. The castle was founded in the early 13th century. The site, near the confluence of the rivers Eamont and Lowther, had been previously chosen by the Romans for a fort called Brocavum. It has a long and convoluted history. Lady Anne Clifford who inherited it, along with a string of other castles in the area that she had refurbished, died at Brougham Castle in 1676. I only gaze at the remains across the river as I don’t have time for a lengthy visit. It shows off the local red sandstone.

I almost forget to look for the Roman Fort on the same site and my photographs are not that convincing of its foundations.

Not far along the lane is the entrance to Brougham Hall, a fortified home from the early C14th. Again one can read the history here. Privately owned, its restoration work is slow but some areas have been made habitable. Space is rented off to various artists and potters. One can wander over most of the site and hence get a feel for past living in such spaces. There is an honesty café so I’m able to get my late morning caffeine fix.

Back across the Eamont and I can catch a bus directly to Penrith Station for the train home.

I’ve enjoyed this mini break, reacquainting myself with the Northern Lake District, delving into a bit of history along the way. The weather has been kind to me and my B and B, The Blue Swallow to give them a shout, in Penrith was perfect.

bowlandclimber

Walks and climbs

Tag Archives: Walking.

THE DEARNE WAY – THREE.

THE DEARNE WAY – TWO.

THE DEARNE WAY – ONE.

THE DEARNE WAY.

Bleasdale with BC

GOOD DAY SUNSHINE.

COUNTING STEPS,

CHANGING CLOCKS. CHANGING PATHS. CHANGING TIMES.

PRIME TIME.

SANDSIDE DISCOVERIES.

THE SARSEN WAY 7. Amesbury to Salisbury.

THE SARSEN WAY 6. Netheravon to Amesbury.

THE SARSEN WAY 5. Manningford to Netheravon.

THE SARSEN WAY 4. Avebury to Manningford.

THE SARSEN WAY 2. Chiseldon to Hackpen Hill. (Broad Hinton)

THE SARSEN WAY 1. Swindon to Chiseldon.

FUNGAL ABUNDANCE?

SEARCHING SARSEN STONES.

MORE BOLTON-BY-BOWLAND HISTORY.

PENRITH ANTIQUITIES.