Hartley fell and the Nine Standards

The forecast promised good weather on the Tuesday, so that was the day I decided on the long walk I was hoping to include in our holiday. From our accommodation we could just about make out the Nine Standards on the top of Hartley Fell silhouetted against the skyline.

The Nine Standards are a collection of massive cairns, several metres high (the largest is 3.5 metres tall) – nine in total, as the name indicates – standing a little to the north of the summit of the fell, making them visible from miles around. I first heard of them when visiting and then researching the Raisbeck Pinfold, part of   Andy Goldsworthy’s Cumbrian sheepfolds project. Inside the Raisbeck sheepfold Goldworthy included a conical stone structure and there are several other of these cone pinfolds at other sites around the Eden Valley. On the project website he explains how the shape of these structures was inspired by the Nine Standards.

The origins and purpose of the Standards is unknown and subject to a raft of theories. However one theory, that seems sensible to me given their location, is that they mark the boundary between Westmorland and Swaledale. Dick Capel devotes a chapter of his book to the Standards and he was responsible for a project to restore them (against some opposition) back in 2005.

Steve Allan, Cumbria’s premier dry stone wall builder, with two assistants and meticulous reference to the photographs, worked for eight days rebuilding the five cairns, which had been in a ruinous state and refurbished the other four. Their work won the North Pennines AONB Conservation Award 2005.

https://www.edenbenchmarks.org.uk/nine-standards.html

So a visit to see the structures close up for myself had to be made!

Hartley Fell and the nearby hills are relatively featureless moorland but I expected, and found, excellent views during the climb and from the top, and I’m very much at home on bleak moorland. Although I would gain about 1600 feet to the summit, it was a relatively gradual climb most of the way with the hardest pull up the road from Hartley. The first couple of miles were on tarmac, which wasn’t great (although the views looking back compensated) before I reached the open moorland. The going on the moors was good at first but the final section up hill to the standards was very boggy and not good walking. The Standards are on Wainwright’s Coast to Coast route which, despite seasonal variations, won’t have helped with the erosion. It’s difficult also to devise a good circular route so I had to return the same way I’d gone up. But visiting the Standards more than made up for any disadvantages and on the way up the best views are behind – they’re right in front on the way down.

It was bright and sunny as I set out mid morning, leaving J to spend a peaceful day on her own. I passed the statue of a youthful Lady Anne on the main street – she appeared to be striding of in the same direction.

I walked down to the Eden and crossed over Frank’s Bridge

and took the path along the river

and then turned off up the slope heading towards the small village of Hartley

View across the fields and over to Wild Boar Fell from the path to Hartley

There was a steep climb out of the village up the road but at he top of the slope, I turned round to be greeted by views of the Northern Pennines, where even Cross Fell was free of cloud

over the Eden Valley to the Lakeland Fells

and, in the other direction, over to the moors where I was heading.

I was still on tarmac

as I passed the massive quarry, which is still being worked. I tried to avoid looking at it, keeping my eyes on the moorland and pretending it wasn’t there.

I soon put it behind me, but still had a good distance to walk on the tarmac

before I finally passed through a gate and turned off the tarmac onto a dirt track – much better for the feet! I notice a car parked up by the gate – there was room for two or three. Later I passed a couple of women – a mother and daughter I think – who were on the way down as I climbed – it was their car. (They were the last people I saw until I got back down to the tarmac on the road down when I spotted one other person – a “twitcher”. I bet it gets a lot busier during the Coast to Coast season) .They’d cut out a good stretch of walking on tarmac and shortened the walk by 2 miles each way. But I still preferred to walk.

I think they’re the Howgills in the distance. I’m not used to seeing them from this direction!

Looking up across the moor I could just make out the Nine Stands on top of the hill.

Looking back to the Lakeland Fells

and to the North Pennines

On the way up, just off the path I spotted this circular structure which looked like it had been constructed fairly recently.

Carrying on those Standards don’t seem to be getting any closer!

I reached a fork in the road and took the path climbing up Faraday Gill

It wasn’t too bad at first

but then it got very wet and boggy underfoot

I was glad that I’d brought my gaiters with me and donned them at the end of the tarmac, but it was difficult finding a way to avoid becoming submerged in wet peat, mud and water as I continued on my way.

Eventually (!) I was getting closer to the Standards.

And then I was there.

The photographs don’t do them justice at all, you need someone standing by them to give a proper sense of scale and there was only me up there. This one is the largest – 3.5 metres tall and 3.7 metres in diameter at its base, tapering to the top with two intermediate ledges around its circumference.

They’re all different in size and shape

A cold wind had picked up and the air temperature was probably below freezing, but I was well wrapped up so didn’t feel too cold as I took in the views

Looking west

The Howgills

Over the Eden Valley towards the Lakeland Fells. I could see snow on Skiddaw (But none on Blencathra)

The Standards are not on the summit of the fell, that was a short distance away to the south and there’s a topograph part of the way there across the top of the fell. I reckoned that as I’d come this far I might as well go the whole hog to the summit, which was marked by a trig point.

The peat was very badly eroded and it would normally be a quagmire bog hopping over to the summit. However, the ground was frozen so I didn’t end up with my boots swallowed in the mire – but be warned if you go up there in warmer, wet weather.

Here’s a few shots looking back tot he Nine Standards and the topograph on the way back from the top

It was time to eat now before I set off back down. The cold wind seemed to be strengthening but I sheltered by sitting on the leeward side of the largest of the Standards, it’s shelf making a handy seat.

Then it was time to start making my return journey retracing my steps.

As I mentioned I only saw one more person until I reached Hartley, but both on the way up and down I could hear the distinctive call of one of my favourite birds, the curlew. Just before I reached the tarmac I stopped for a rest on a handy seat and three curlews flew by overhead. That was a treat.

It was still sunny when I got back to Kirkby Stephen. It was mid afternoon and I was ready for a brew.

It had been a cracking day, cold in the wind but warm in the sunshine, and wrapped up well was perfect walking weather. We were expecting another decent day but a change was in the air!

https://explore.osmaps.com/route/16198750/hartley-fell-and-he-nine-standards?lat=54.462973&lon=-2.322794&zoom=13.5527&style=Leisure&type=2d&overlays=&placesCategory=

Kirkby Stephen Poetry Path, Stenkrith Park and the Viaducts

Frank’s Bridge

Sunday was the first full day of our break in Kirkby Stephen and in the morning we took it easy. But by midday I was feeling restless and the weather looked reasonably promising so it was time to get our boots on a set off for a walk.

A couple of years ago I read a book about the Eden Valley – The Stream Invites us to Follow: Exploring the Eden from Source to Sea – by Dick Capel, who was Countryside Manager for the East Cumbria Countryside Project from 1992 to 2008. In the book he follows the course of the Eden and it was reading it that inspired me to visit and explore an area I’d largely neglected, resulting in our out of season breaks in Kirkby Stephen and, last October, in Appleby. (I was also influenced by reading the descriptions of Sharon’s “adventures” in Eden on her blog).

Dick Capel had been involved in three arts projects as part of his role – The Eden Benchmarks, Andy Goldsworthy’s Cumbria sheep fold project and also the Poetry Path in Kirkby Stephen. For the latter, twelve blocks of stone were installed at intervals along a route on both sides of the river Eden a mile or so to the south of where we were staying. On each of these stones lettering artist Pip Hall has carved a poem by Meg Peacocke together with a small decorative motifs which illustrate activities associated with the months of the hill farmer’s year. There are stones at 12 locations; one for each month of the year. Although the brief was to represent the farming year, this has been interpreted loosely with some of the poems describing nature and landscape.

As we’re both avid readers and interested in both poetry and sculpture I devised a route that would take us down to the Poetry Path, which we then followed, before returning to Kirkby Stephen via the small village of Hartley, along the disused track bed of the Stainmore Railway which crosses two restored viaducts.

We cut down the ginnel opposite our accommodation, and then through the town centre and down to the river, where we crossed over Frank’s Bridge. We then took the path that followed the right bank of the Eden

on through fields, passing this old barn

After a mile or so we reached the Poetry Path which starts with the January stone at ‘Swingy Bridge’. However due to the route we’d taken the first stone we came across was the one for March. So we carried on from there. We’d bought a small booklet from the Tourist Information Centre in Kirkby Stephen when we arrived. It only cost £2.00 and was a great help in locating the stones – some of them are installed in walls and others are easy to miss. It also provided background information and photographs of some of the stones from when they were installed back in 2004. Since then they have weathered and some overgrown with lichen, moss and other vegetation making them difficult to read. Luckily there’s a blog where you can see the text of all the poems in full and I’ve used this as a source for the poems reproduced in this post. Most of the motifs were impossible to make out.

The March stone was installed in a stream and had a good covering of vegetation making it impossible to read the full text.

March
“From field and fell run cols run small. I am the rain tear in the eye blood in the vein I am the sea.”

Jim Capel, in his book has an account of the fun had when installing the stone here!

The contractor used a low loader with a telescopic arm……. As we hesitated, mesmerised by the dangling stone, one of the straps snapped, and it plunged with a mighty splash into the beck. There it wedged itself in an upright position against the sandstone outcrop at the back of the pool.

Jim Capel, The Stream invites us to follow

The next stone was incorporated into a dry stone wall and easy to walk past

April – Lambing time
“Coltsfoot, celandine, earliest daisies. Twin lambs race to the mother, baby cries, Mam! Mam! Jolt out of them and now they jostle the ragged ewe, boosting each split hoof high off the bitten turf. Pinching jaws and hard curled coats are braced against these April suns and sleets.”

The May stone was also embedded in a wall, just before the bridge over the former railway line.

May
“Penned in a huddle, the great tups are clints of panting stone. The shepherd lifts a sideways glance from the labour of dagging tails. His hands are seamed with muck and sweat runs into his eyes. Above us, a silent plane has needled the clear blue. Paling behind it a crimped double strand of wool unravels.”

The countryside here was very pleasant and, surprisingly, it wasn’t too muddy underfoot

There were good views, too, over some of the fells – including the distinctive Wild Boar Fell

When we arrived at the June stone a family with two young boys and a baby were resting near and on the stones, with the mother using one of the stones as a support while feeding the baby. So we carried on past on to the former railway track and the next stone. We returned later for a proper look as we had to retrace part of the route to join the track on the return leg of our walk.

In this case there were two stones, gritstone blocks that had previously used in an indusrtial process according to the booklet. Both carved with text

June
“Light drops like honey from branch to branch. Elders balance their dishes of cream, while fledgelings try small quivery leaps, testing the buoyancy of the air.”

The July stone was a short distance along the railway path

July
“Silage. Tractor incises the first green furrow. Skillful geometrician, the driver judges an arc of weather.”

The August stone, a naturally curved rock, was a little further along. The text was carved on both sides

August
“Crabapples tart on the tongue, Hazelnuts milky, Rosehips cool in the hand, Thistledown silky.”

The September stone was the third and final one on the old railway track and referenced the former use of the location

September
“Revetted banks, a concrete post. Rabbits tunnel the cinder waste. Angle iron, link of a broken chain. Listen, and catch the hiss of steam again.”

A little further on we crossed over the river on the Millennium footbridge below the road bridge. We looked down on the river where we had a good view of “The Devil’s Grinding Mill” also known as “The Devil’s Mustard Mill” and the “Coopkarnel” (from a Danish word mean “cup shaped cavern”).

The river here passes through a narrow gorge and  the dramatic potholes have been carved in the Brockram rock (formed of fragments of Carboniferous limestone set in red siltstone and sandstone) by the force of the water and the abrasive action of small stones and rocks carried by the current.

“The Devil’s Mustard Mill” – upstream of the bridge

Looking downstream from the bridge

We now descended into Stenkrith Park, following the path along the river. Almost immediately we came across the next Poetry stone. In fact there were a pair of stones – one of limestone and one of sandstone – the two components of the Brockram.

October
“Sandstone. A desert wind, grain by grain, laid down these rocks. How did we trace a path through ancient dunes?
Limestone. A million million blanched and compacted shells. How did we swim through the drift and not perish?“

Looking back towards the bridges

Water swirling through wierdly eroded rocks on the riverbed

Carrying on along the path we reached the next pair of stones.

November
“Through hazels and alders, softly or in spate, Eden moves in the valley it has hallowed from Mallerstang to the shifting Solway sands.”

It was noticeable that these had been cleaned up, making it easier to read the text, and, for the first time, the motif was legible.

The other stones along this stretch of the trail seemed to have been cleaned up too – probably because this is the most frequented section of the trail being in the Stenkrith Park, which is a popular tourist attraction.

On the hillside, a short distance before the “Swingy Bridge” we found the December Stone. The poem here is a Haiku, carved across the three rocks

December
“There sails the heron drawing behind him a long wake of solitude”

There’s the Swingy Bridge ahead. The river here was very placid and calm compared to the turbulent waters upstream.

The “Swingy Bridge”. An unusual name that suggests there was once a swing bridge here

The January stone was located at the bottom of the lane, just before the bridge. The lane was designated a bridleway and the bridge was far too narrow to be crossed by horses but it looked like there was a ford below the bridge.

January
The sky’s harsh crystal, wind a blade, trees stripped, grass dull with cold. Life is a kernel hidden in the stone of winter.”

Again it looked like the stone had been cleaned up fairly recently.

For most people following the trail this would probably be the start of their walk following the Poetry path, but we still had another stone to see so we crossed the bridge and carried on along the path until me reached the large February Stone comprised of four rectanular blocks piled on top of each other across from a derelict barn.

February
“Snowlight peers at the byre door. Neither day nor night. Four months ago we fetched the cattle in, safe from reiving wind and rain, months of standing and shifting, burdened with patience. When will winter end?
Thin strakes of run on the byre door. Fork a load of silage out, straighten your back to watch them shove their muzzles in, and wonder if they crave the hazy nights when they can roam among tall summer grasses, sleek and sound and warm.”

The motif showing a farmer feeding his cattle with hay during the winter was just about legible.

Carving on the February stone depicting Cattle brought indoors for the winter being fed

We carried on along the track – it had once been the main route from Kirkby Stephen to Mallerstang apparently – passing the March, April and May stones and then the June stone which we were now able to look at properly. We then rejoined the railway track, turning right this time to head towards Hartley. It was easy walking now on the disused track of the Stainmore Railway, a single line between Barnard Castle and Tebay, opened in 1861, built to transport Durham coke to furnaces in Cumberland and iron ore back to Cleveland. It was also used to transport limestone from the quarry at Hartley.

Two of the platelayers huts on the line have been restored and contain information panels about the history of the line.

Like most tracks on former railways lines, sections passed through cuttings but there were a number of places where there were good views over to the north Pennines. 

The path passes over two viaducts. The first we crossed was the Podgill Viaduct,

The views from the viaduct were impressive.

The viaduct is a listed Grade II structure built of local limestone with 11 arches, each of 30 feet span, and a maximum height of 84 feet above the valley floor (information from here). We descended down some steps to a viewing point to get a proper look. It was a good time of year to do this as the view wasn’t obscured by the leaves on the plentiful trees.

Carrying on we crossed over the Merrygill viaduct which spans the narrow Hartley Beck valley

The viaducts are owned and maintained by the Northern Viaduct Trust, a small charity, established in 1989. The trust also look after the Smardale Gill Viaducts and Drygill Bridge on a branch line passing through the disused Kirkby Stephen East statio.n as well as the Millennium Bridge we crossed earlier during our walk, and the track bed between Stenkrith and Merrygill Viaduct.

The path ended just after the Merrygill viaduct and we descended down the steep road to the small village of Hartley where we took the path leading back down to Frank’s Bridge

The village cricket field is near to the bridge and on the other side of the field is a small hill – Kirkby Hill. We decided to climb it and take in the views of the fells

The Northern Pennines

Over towards Hartley Fell

Wild Boar Fell in the distance

Kirkby Stephen

Walking back to our accommodation we noticed that the La’l Nook was opened, so we popped in for a drink – a good way to end the walk.

Grisedale Pike

When I woke up on the Sunday morning of my recent short break in Braithwaite, looking out of my bedroom window I could that Skiddaw was cloud free. The forecast was promising too – a high probability of cloudless summits up Coledale (although a grey day on the cards) – so after breakfast I checked out and, leaving my car at the B and B, I set out to climb Grisedale Pike. It’s a shapely fell, described thus by the blessed Wainwright

a graceful peak piercing the western sky ……. conspicuously in view from Keswick, it is one of those fells that compels attention by reason of it’s shapeliness and height.

The North Western Fells

The profile of the mountain means that the ascent from Braithwaite, (the most popular route up), involves a steep initial climb followed by a long gradual ridge, then another steep section, a short easier ridge and a final steep pull involving a little scrambling.

First of all, taking the Whinlatter Pass road out of the village up a steep slope as far as a small car park (already full at 10 o’clock)

then up some steps for the start of the steep climb at the start of ascent

Stopping to look back is always a good excuse for a little rest and in this case it was justified by the view over to Scafell & Co.

an over to the Dodds in the east

The climb eased off and the summit, with a clearly defined path to the top, came into view

No cloud hiding the summits of the other fells of the Coledale valley today

Getting closer to the summit now, the hidden valley of Grisedale, from which the fell takes its name, was revealed. There’s another Grisedale, one with an eponymous tarn, at the foot of St Sunday Crag in the Eastern Fells, of course, plus Grizedale (with a z) forest between Windermere and Coniston Water. They origin of the name for all of them is “the valley where young pigs graze” and so these were all places where there once would have been wild boar.

I had to take a rest and refuel, though, as the steep climb had reduced my blood sugar and the low alarm from my sensor was beeping away. It took a little while to recover before I could continue.

Now for the start of the final pull

A little scrambling required. This stretch reminded me a little of the final section of the Watkin Path on Yr Wyddfa (formerly known as Snowdon)

Finally reaching the summit, the views were excellent in every direction and I could even see as far as Scotland and the profile of the Isle of Man on the Horizon

Time to carry on down an easier slope than on the ascent. Looking back –

As I descended I could see over to Hopegill Head. I had in mind climbing up there too but my blood sugar was dropping and I was running low on carbs so thought it best to leave that for another day. I didn’t want to hypo when there was still a way to go back to Braithwaite down Coledale. I hadn’t managed my carbs too well today – the climb had been tougher than I’d expected and I wasn’t fell fit. I had some sugary snacks in my pack but didn’t feel comfortable that they would see me through. I usually pack more food than I think I’d need for a walk, but this one had been tougher than I’d expected and it’s better to be safe than sorry and have to be carried back down by Mountain Rescue. (I did make it back down to the village before my sugar level had dropped to the point where an intake of carbs was needed, but I’d made the right decision).

So I carried on descending making my way to Coledale Hawse where I was greeted by this view down the valley

I started chatting with a couple of other walkers who were also admiring the view. I recognised the accent of one of them – he was from the town where I grew up.

The path descended steeply towards the bottom of the valley down a rocky path. The old mine soon became visible.

Force Crag Mine was the last working metal mine in the Lake District, finally closing in 1991. Initially mining lead from 1839 until 1865, and then zinc and barytes from 1867. The abandoned mine is now owned by the National Trust who host open days from time to time. The water running out of the mine workings is heavily polluted with toxic metals including zinc, cadmium and lead and the Coal Authority, the Environment Agency, National Trust and Newcastle University and have developed and implemented an innovative pilot scheme to reduce the levels of metal pollution.

Looking back from near the bottom of the valley

I crossed the river and then joined the old mine road. It was a long, relatively easy but not very exciting walk back to Braithwaite

In the morning I’d passed a sign for the Braithwaite Orthodox church. Curious, on returning to the village I went to take a look.

It was originally a Methodist Chapel but really is being used as an Orthodox place of worship.

I then made my way to the village shop where I was able to replenish my carbs and buy a take away coffee. It was a short walk back to the B&B and my car.

I’d had an enjoyable few days in the North Lakes but it was time to set off on the drive back home. I’ll be back up here again before too long. But I’ll make sure I’ve more than enough carbs with me next time!

Barrow and Outerside

My B & B in Braithwaite was very handy for exploring the North West fells with walks starting from the front door. There was a view over the valley to Skiddaw from my bedroom window and looking out before breakfast I could see cloud hanging over and obscuring the top of the fell. I reckoned conditions would probably be similar up Coledale, and a look at the mountain weather forecast websites seemed to confirm this. I was hoping to go up Grisedale Pike but decided to leave that high fell, hoping the weather would be better the next day (it was) and instead tackle a couple of lower fells. This turned out to be a good decision as the top Grisedale Pike was covered with cloud for most of the time I was out and a walker I’d spoken to later in the day who had been up told me it had been windy up top with no views.

My objectives for the day, then were Barrow and Outerside, to lower fells which were below the cloud base and which did offer some views over Newlands Valley, Coledale and the higher fells. I had to endure some rain and wind, but nothing that presented any difficulties.

After breakfast I booted up and set off walking through the village and then took one of the paths up towards the fells.

Looking back over Braithwaite towards Skiddaw and Blencathra

Barrow to the left – Causey Pike ahead the summit peeking through the cloud.

I realised I hadn’t taken the most direct route towards, Barrow, my first objective. But consulting the map I decided that rather than retrace my steps I could take a path a little further up the valley and cut across to the fell.

Causey Pike, the minor summit of Stile End and Outerside

The path cutting across towards Barrow

After crossing the beck, rather than take the steep full on path up to the summit, I turned left and along a path running diagonally across the fell, joining the main ridge route to the top. As I climbed the rain started to blow in.

Looking back over the valley towards the Skiddaw group with low cloud obscuring the summits of the fells

The view over towards Derwent Water part way up Barrow

Looking across the Newlands Valley – the rain was coming across

Looking over to Causey Pike, Sail, Crag Hill and Outerside from the summit of Barrow

Looking back towards Skiddaw from the summit of Barrow

Making my way down from Barrow towards Outerside

Making my way down Barrow

Reaching the hause I started to climb a path that I thought would take me towards Outerside. After a short while I found myself on the summit, not of my intended hill, but the subsidiary summit of Stile End. My second error of the day. I stopped to take a short breaking taking in the views over the fells as the rough weather continued to come in along the valley from the direction of Buttermere

Some rough weather blowing in from the west – covering the summit and higher slopes of Grisedale Pike

The weather coming in over Grisdedale Pike

Sunshine on the lower northern slopes of Grisdale Pike

A rainbow over Braithwaite

Time to get moving again. I dropped down from the summit, made my way back to the hause and set off on the path above Stoneycroft Gill before cutting across on to the path that would take me up Outerside. There was a short steep climb requiring a little scrambling – care needed on the wet, slatey rock, but it didn’t take too long to reach the summit.

The view over Stile End and Barrow towards Derwent Water

Sail and Crag Hill in the cloud

Can’t see much of Grisedale Pike

As I made my way down Outerside, the cloud was beginning to clear. Reaching the Stoneycroft Gill path on a better day when I was feeling more “fell fit” I’d have been tempted to climb up to the ridge and tackle Causey Pike and possibly Sail and Crag Hill, but I decided it was time to make my way back down to Braithwaite. I followed the path towards Barrow

then cut across back towards the top of Stile End to take in the views again as the cloud was clearing. It was boggy underfoot. When I reached the summit of the smaller hill the cloud ha completely cleared from Grisedale Pike

Grisedale Pike from Stile End

Looking over towards Coledale Hause

Towards Outerside

Causey Pike

It was a steep and slippery slope to descend down off Stile End

Following the path back down to Braithwaite with the Skiddaw massive dead ahead

Passing a mass of snowdrops as I approached the outskirts of Braithwaite

View over Braithwaite

Reaching the village I popped into the small village store and picked up a few goodies to take home (locally made fudge)

Before making my way back along the road to my B & B and a welcome brew supplied by Helen, one of the owners!

https://explore.osmaps.com/route/15841206/barrow-and-outerside-2013-02?lat=54.592535&lon=-3.223567&zoom=13.3418&style=Leisure&type=2d&overlays=&placesCategory=

A weekend break in the Lakes

It’s been a surprisingly busy start to the year and I felt like I could do with a break. Wife and daughter had already taken themselves for a weekend in Venice in January (leaving me and son behind). I thought I could do one better ( 😁, well maybe not! ) and headed up to the Lakes last weekend.

The weather forecast wasn’t so great, but I’d booked my B & B and a bit of rain wasn’t going to put me off. I rescheduled a couple of commitments and set off late morning. On the M6 I ran into rain near Preston and it continued to get heavier as I drove north. It eased off as I approached Penrith but it continued to rain on and off along the A66 to Keswick. I drove down Borrowdale and parked up in the Great Wood car park and weighed up my options. It looked fairly miserable up on the fells so decided I’d just take a walk along the lake to Keswick.

First stop was Calf Close Bay, only a short distance from the car park, and the Hundred Year Stone, the monument carved by by Peter Randall-Page, marking the centenary of the National Trust which owns much of the land around the Lake.

I’ve been here in all sorts of weather – it’s almost a traditional stop during a visit to the north Lakes – and photographed these stones many times, sometimes with them partially covered with water when the lake level was high.

It continued to rain on and as I carried on walking along the lake

approaching Keswick

It was quiet when I reached the small town, just a few bedraggled visitors (including me, of course!) wandering the streets. I had a mooch around the walking gear shops and then went for a sit down with a coffee in Java, a favourite cafe on Main Street.

reenergised by a strong coffee I set off back along the lake. The rain had eased off and the fells were becoming visible

I’d dried off by the time I reached Great Wood. I debooted (is that a real word?) and drove back into Keswick, stopping off at Booths to pick up a few supplies, and then on to Braithwaite and the B & B where I would be spending the next two nights. I was looking forward to some walking up on some fells I’d never explored before.

The Last Clarion House

One of my objectives during my wander around Pendle was to visit the Clarion House on Jinny Lane, between Newchurch and Roughlee. It’s only open on a Sunday between 10.30 am and 4.00 pm., and as I’d never been over this way on that day before, I was determined not to miss my opportunity, so planned the route so I could visit.

The Clarion, was a socialist weekly, established by Robert Blatchford in Manchester in 1890. It quickly built a loyal readership selling around 30,000 copies a week. A movement started to crystallise around the paper, with Clarion Vans, initiated by Julia Dawson, touring towns and villages throughout England and Scotland between1896 and1929 to spread the Socialist message.

Perhaps influenced by Continental Socialist movements such as the German Social Democratic Party (at that time a Marxist organisation), readers groups formed clubs dedicated to leisure and educational pursuits. Today we’re used to having the weekend off plus Bank Holidays and several weeks annual leave, and there are plenty of things to keep us occupied when we have leisure time. But it wasn’t the same back then. Workers had struggled to gain Sundays and Saturday afternoons off work and activities such as walking and cycling gained in popularity, particularly as workers wanted to escape the smoke and grime of the industrial towns and cities. So, not surprisingly there were rambling and cycling societies affiliated to the Clarion Movement. Clarion Houses were set up in rural areas, initially manly by the Clarion Cycling Club, to provide refreshments, and often accommodation, for cyclists and others enjoying the countryside. Socialist organisations such as the Social Democratic Federation (SDF) and Independent Labour Party (ILP) started to follow their example. These also became known as “Clarion Houses“.

The Clarion House on Jinny Lane was founded by the Nelson ILP in 1912, funded by a loan of £350 from the Nelson Weavers Association. They’d originally rented a house on Barley New Road, a short distance away, in 1899 (I passed it later in my walk on the way back to Barley) but it became so popular that larger premises were needed.

The first Clarion House in Pendle

My arrival was well timed as there were a few hours before it was due to close

On the outside of the building was plaque commemorating ILP and Clarion Cycling Club member who had fought for the Republicans during the Spanish Civil War. This chimed with me as a relative (a Great Uncle), who was a miner and member of the Communist Party in South Wales, was involved in the recruitment of men to fight for the International Brigades.

Inside the walls were decorated with banners, posters and photographs relating to the Socialist and Clarion movements and above the coal fire there was a stained glass window from the former ILP building in Nelson

I bought myself a pint of tea for the very reasonable price of 70 pence, and chatted with the volunteers manning the counter. I sat down on one of the long benches to drink my brew and at my sandwiches, and soon started a conversation with an elderly couple sitting opposite who had walked down from a nearby town and were regular visitors. There were plenty of others in the building enjoying refreshments and a good chat, including groups of Clarion Cyclists (the club is still in existence, but, sadly, severed its historic link to socialism in 2021.

The House sits in it’s own grounds where it organises activities and where, on a fine day, visitors can enjoy sitting in the fresh air looking over very pleasant countryside

There’s a website devoted to the Clarion House with downloadable resources including a book.

Documentary about the Last Clarion House, Pendle, Lancashire. DOP Nick Gordon-Smith Editor Cliff West Music by Vini Reilly, Durutti Column Director Charlotte Bill Clapham Film Unit and Clarion House Funded by the Heritage Lottery Fund

This is the very last of the Clarion Houses, cared for and maintained by volunteers. In some ways it’s a relic of other, more innocent times. For me, it represents a reminder of a sadly forgotten past but also, perhaps, a small beacon of hope and inspiration for the future.

Pendle Hill

There’s a good Lancashire word – slutch. The online Collins dictionary defines it as “a fine-grained soft wet deposit that occurs on the ground after rain” and that’s a decent enough description. Last Sunday, during a walk around Pendle Hill after a few days of rainy weather, I encountered plenty of it!

Sunday promised to be a fine day so I fancied a walk. I didn’t feel like a long drive so decided to head over to Pendle as I hadn’t been there for a while. It was a sunny morning when I got up, but the car was covered in ice. It took a little while to defrost but then I loaded up the boot with my gear and set off on the drive to the small village of Barley, which sits at the foot of Pendle Hill. The roads had been quiet but when I arrived in Barley it was already very busy. There were cars parked all along the narrow roads but I decided to use the village car park. £3 for all day is reasonable enough and contributes to the upkeep. I booted up and set off, passing the Cabin cafe which had just opened. Not many customers, but it was a different story by the time I got back in the afternoon!

I walked through the attractive village

and then took the Pendle Way path along the river, heading towards the hill

And there it is

The summit is 557 metres (1,827 ft) above mean sea level. So it doesn’t qualify as a mountain, but it’s a stiff climb up the steep main path from Barley. The hill doesn’t have a distinct summit. Its a long ridge. There’s a trig point at the highest point which is known as the “Big End”.

“Pendle Hill” actually means “hill hill hill”. The following explanation is from Wikipedia

In the 13th century it was called Pennul or Penhul, apparently from the Cumbric pen and Old English hyll, both meaning “hill”. The modern English “hill” was appended later,

I followed the path, avoiding the muddy stretches as best I could and reaching the foot of the hill started to climb up the steep path. A lot of work had been done since my last visit to minimise erosion caused by the boots of a large number of people who make their way up this way. Stone steps had been laid down. There were quite a few other people making their way up. I have to admit that not being fully “fell fit” a few breathers were need. But it’s not a race!

Eventually I made it to the top of the slope and followed the much gentler path towards the summit – the “Big End”.

I wasn’t the only one there when I reached it.

On a clear day the views all round were pretty good. There’s Ingleborough and Pen-y-gent in the distance

and over to Bowland with the Lake District fells peeking over the top of the hills.

There was a microlight craft in the distance making it’s way, noisily, towards the summit

Reaching it, the pilot swooped down over our heads and then over the hill, starting to show off performing acrobatics.

This was the view back down to Barley.

I could have made my way back down to there but instead took a longer route, setting off across the peat bog towards Ogden Clough. A lot of work has been done to preserve the peat with a flagged path across the bog which meant I was able to keep my boots dry.

The top of the hill is a long, flat plateau but eventually I descended down the path into Ogden Clough crossing the river which wends its way through the valley towards Barley.

There were no paving slabs along this path so I had to navigate plenty of stretches of smud – but this was not the worst of the slutch by any means!

At a fork in the path, where one branch heads over to the Nick of Pendle, I continued to follow the river, after a while descending steeply down a slippery slope, and crossing over the river. A couple of fell runners overtook me and I watched one of the slip and fall on his backside into the water. I took extra care!

I continued along the path down the valley eventually reaching the first of two small reservoirs built to provide water for the people of Burnley.

I was now walking on a stretch of tarmac towards the Lower reservoir, but soon left the road just before the reaching it, following the Pendle Way and the Lancashire Witches’ Walk,

and passing one of the tercets waymarkers which have been installed along the latter route.

A tercet is form of poem comprising a three-line stanza, and this one , dedicated to Katherine Hewitt reads

Witch: female, cunning, manless, old,
daughter of such, of evil faith;
in the murk of Pendle Hill, a crone.

The path took me up some steep steps through a pine wood

before emerging into the daylight to cross some fields up the hill and then towards the small village of Newchurch in Pendle.

A cracking view across to Pendle Hill

The going looks good but this was the muckiest stretch of the walk with deep mud in places. At one point my boots were completely submerged in the slutch. I was glad that I’d decided to wear my gaiters.

Descending down into Newchurch

and passing the well known gift shop that sells items of witchery and other bits and bobs

I decided to have a look at the church which gives the village its name (it was new in 1740!).

I walked across the graveyard and then too a path through fields (more slutch!) to Jinny Road.

I could have followed some paths through the fields, but I was getting a little fed up of trying, and failing, to avoid the mud! After about a mile I reached my next objective.

Clarion House is the last remaining example of establishments founded in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries by the Clarion Movement and other Socialist organisations, to provide refreshments, and often accommodation, for walkers, cyclists and others who wanted to escape the smoke and grime of the industrial towns and cities.

I think this deserves it’s own post so for now I’ll just mention that I enjoyed a pint of tea, costing 70 pence, the opportunity to eat the butties I’d brought with me and chats with the staff and a nice elderly couple who lived locally and were regular visitors.

Refreshed I set of back through the field, initially sticking to the road (to avoid the mud sticking to me)

I saw some unusual sheep. I’m sure someone can tell me what breed this is

and Anabel had sent the coos down to harass me again (I was sure they’d followed me from Ambleside!)

After Roughlee village and a short climb I joined a bridleway that would take me back to Barley.

Reaching the village I visited the river and submerged my booted feet to wash off as much as the mud as I could before returning tot eh car park. The Cabin was busy with all the tables outside taken and a queue of customers purchasing drinks at the hatch.

Time to change out of my boots and gaiters (the latter had kept my trousers remarkably clean!) and set off back home.

Red Screes and Scandale in the Clag

Last weekend I headed up to the Lakes – my first visit for 2023. Other than my walk on 2 January weather, work and personal commitments meant I’d been restricted to local walks around the Plantations, canal and nearby countryside and I was feeling the need to get away and stretch my legs and christen my new boots.

I’d decided to drive up to Ambleside and head up Red Screes going up the long haul from the village and then back down Scandale – the opposite way from when I’d been up here before – the last time 12 months previously. Rain wasn’t forecast but the high fells wee in the cloud. I was hoping that it would clear during my walk but I wasn’t so lucky. Nevertheless, it was good to get back up on the fells even though it soon became clear that I wasn’t “fell fit”.

The first stretch of the walk was on tarmac, the steep road known as “the Struggle” (for good reason!)

After about a mile, I reached the stile that took me on to the footpath that climbs the fell.

It’s a fairly easy route in that it’s a clear path all the way up to the summit (at least, for most of the way) but it’s not particularly exciting terrain and a bit of a trudge. But I was still enjoying the walk even if I was huffing and puffing.

Good views initially down to Ambleside and Windermere as I was under the cloud base

but as I climbed I started to get into, and above the cloud. This was the view looking down into tve valley

and ahead

There’d been snow up here the week before, but there wasn’t much trace of it now, but as I started to approach the summit, and the temperature dropped, there was some ice that still hadn’t thawed.

The tarn at the summit was frozen, and I was in the clag- no views over to the Far Eastern fells this time.

I thought about taking in Middle Dodd, but decided to save that for another, clearer, day, so after a drink of coffee from my flask to warm me up and a bite to eat I set off down the path beside the wall descending to the Scandale pass.

As I came out of the cloud there was a good view down to Brothers’ Water and Patterdale, lit up by the sun peeking through the cloud.

Approaching Scandale, the eastern leg of the Fairfield horseshoe was obscured by the cloud

I carried on down the valley, passing several other walkers making there way up in the opposite direction.

Looking back up the valley

I spotted a few locals

Getting closer to Ambleside, I stopped to take a snap of the picturesque High Sweden Bridge

The rough path turned into a track, and I suddenly found my way almost blocked by a gang of locals making their way up the valley

Those horns look dangerous, but the although the black one came close to take a look at me they were very docile

and carried on their way

I was getting closer to Ambleside now with a good view of Wansfell (where the cloud had cleared) and a glimpse of Windermere

As I neared the village, I passed this curious tower which I’d never noticed on previous walks in the opposite direction

I couldn’t find out anything about it after my walk. Can anyone elucidate me?

Back in Ambleside now

I had a little time left on my car parking ticket so had a little mooch in some of the walking shops, but managed to resist temptation. Fortunately Fred’s bookshop was closed for rewiring as my bank balance would probably have been affected 😂

I returned to my car and got out of my boots just as the weather changed and the rain started. The rain got worse the further south I drove down the M6, so driving wasn’t fun, especially as it started to get dark. I’d had a good day walking but was glad to get home for a brew.

Link to route here

Back on the cliffs at Whitburn

The week after we’d been to the galleries in Manchester I was up in the North East with work, so I took the opportunity to visit some family in Whitburn. After a tiring drive along the M61, M62, A1 and A19 I parked up near the Souter lighthouse for a short walk on the cliffs to clear my head during the last hour of sunlight on a cold January day.

With the light fading and cloud coming in, I returned to the car and drove the short distance to my relatives house for a welcome cup of tea.

First walk of 2023

I’ve taken my time writing this up. When I retired from my main job at the end of February last year I was looking forward to a life of leisure, but it hasn’t quite worked out that way. I’m really only part retired and I’ve found that I’m working more than I intended and it’s certainly got into the way of keeping up to date with WordPress. Still, better late than never.

So, the second day of the year was a Bank Holiday, with New Year’s Day being on a Sunday. With a promising weather forecast it was time to get the boots on for the first walk of the year. I suspected the roads would be busy so decided on a local walk up on the West Pennine moors. It seems that a good proportion of the local population had a similar idea.

I was a little later than normal setting out and when I arrived at Rivington the ample free parking was ram jam full with some cars parked rather foolishly and dangerously near the two barns. Reading social media posts that evening it was clear that other popular areas like the Lake District were also heaving with reports of bad traffic and difficulties in parking.

I turned round and set off back towards Horwich and parked up on the road between the town and Rivington High School. I don’t usually park along here and, as a consequence, I ended up taking a new route up to the top of the Pike. I wasn’t originally going to take in the top of the hill but given where I’d parked I changed my plan, deciding to take in the top of the hill before heading further north to Anglezarke.

I booted up and set off down the track by the side of the school and began to climb up the side of the Pike on a path I’d never taken before.

Reaching the Terraced Gardens I started to climb up to the summit via the Japanese Gardens

The picture is deceptive – it was quite busy by the lake

It was very busy on the way up to the summit, mainly families out on a fine Bank Holiday Monday

Although it was sunny, the air temperature was low and there was a cold wind blowing from the west. I was glad I was wearing my down jacket.

There was quite a lot of cloud and some rain falling to the south west over towards Cheshire and North wales

But it was finer to the north and east

I could see a couple of walkers on the path over the moors towards Noon Hill. I considered following them but the ground was soft after the recent thaw and I expected it would be somethig of a quagmire so deided against and instead headed back down fromt he summit and on to the Pigeon Tower

I descended down through the Gardens

crossing over the Seven Arch Bridge and then took the track that descended gradually down to the Belmont Road car park (also full) and then made my way down the road, past Moses Cocker’s

and then, having left the crowds behind, onto Anglezardke Moor

making my way to Old Rachel’s and then on to HIgher Hempshaws.

Passing Old Rachel’s. The path was muddy in places, but it wasn’t as bad as I expected.

Lower Hemshaws

I carried on heading north on the farmer’s track. I’d intended to carry on towards Lead Mine Valley and then make my way past Yarrow Reservor and then along Rivington lower Reservoir back to the car. But the light was good and I fancied staying up on the wild moor for a little longer, so ended up turning up the track towards Redmond Edge, braving the bog, and then followed the ridge to Horden Stoops.

As climbed, views opened up to the Lake District mountains, the Bowland Fells, the Yorkshire Dales and Pendle Hill. Long range visibility was very good.

The view towards Winter Hill as I walked along the ridge to Horden Stoops

Reaching the Belmont Road there was a short stretch of tarmac to walk before I turned off down the rough track of the old Belmont Road back towards the Pike

The view back over to the Anglezarke moors

Reaching the Pigeon Tower the light was beginning to fade. The sun would be setting soon

I descended down through the gardens to the bottom of the hill via a circuitous rout. There’s a myriad of routes but I’ve been walking round here since I was a teenager so am unlikely to get lost! So I made my way back to the car. There were quite a few people making their way up the hill. I assumed that they were going up to watch the sunset. I was tempted to follow them, but I’d had a long walk. Tile to head back home for a brew.

https://explore.osmaps.com/route/15586331/new-year-2023-rivington-and-anglezarke?lat=53.633629&lon=-2.562213&zoom=12.5733&style=Leisure&type=2d&overlays=&placesCategory=