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
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.
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.
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
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.
Boxing Day promised to be a fine day – perfect for a winter walk. I was up earlyish – unlike the rest of the family I’m not one for lying in. After breakfast I made up some butties, packed my rucksac and leaving the house, walked the short distance to the start of the Cinder track – the former railway line to Scarborough which has now been converted into a footpath/ cycle track. It was a bright and sunny with a blue sky, which meant it was cold and frosty with some ice underfoot, but I was well wrapped up and as I walked I soon warmed up.
Scarborough was a bit far for my walk! but I’d planned a route walking on the track as far as the village of Hawkser where I’d cut across to the coastal path, along which I’d return to Whitby.
At the bottom of the steps I made my way through the busy streets of the old town, crossed over the bridge and made my way back to our holiday home for a well earned brew!
Since our walk in the Derbyshire Dales back in July, I’ve been trying to get out again with Graham, my friend and former colleague. We finally managed to find a mutually convenient day when neither of us had any pressing work to do so arranged to meet up for another walk in the Peak District.
Daylight hours are limited during December and I didn’t fancy fighting my way through the rush hour traffic on the M61 and M60 so took a chance and caught the train to Stockport. I was lucky – my trains weren’t cancelled (a later one was) and they ran more or less on time. Graham picked me up at the station and then we drove over to his mother in law’s house to pick up Toby – her dog – who we were taking with us. Then we drove over to Castleton where we’d decided to set off for a walk up Cave Dale. We’d then see how things went before deciding on the rest of the route while we were on the hoof.
A few miles from Castleton we were treated to the sight of a temperature inversion in the Hope Valley.
We parked up on the road just outside the village. Given the time of year and that it wasn’t the weekend we didn’t have any trouble finding a space. We booted up, got Toby into his harness and set off through the village heading towards Cave Dale.
Cave Dale is a narrow, dry gorge climbing (quite steeply at one point) between limestone cliffs. It was probably originally created by glacial meltwater, being deepened later due to the collapse of underground caverns.
I’d walked through the Dale before, a couple of times, but previously from the oppostie direction – coming down into Castleton.
Looking back as we climbed, Peveril Castle could be seen looming over and dominating the dale.
At the top of the Dale we turned off the Limestone Trail taking the path towards Mam Tor. We decided that we’d climb the “Mother Hill” and then carry on along the “Great Ridge” to Lose Hill.
The summit of Mam Tor was now covered in mist as the cloud base had lifted.
On the way up we started chatting with a couple of older men carrying large, heavy packs. They were paragliders and had decided conditions were improving and would be suitable for launching themselves off the summit. We found quite a bit about their hobby during the short walk to the summit.
Mam Tor means “Mother Mountain” and humans have lived around here for thousands of years. It’s the site of a prehistoric hill fort, and remnants of the fortifications – ditches and ramparts – are clearly visible running around the summit. also known as the Shivering Mountain due to it’s unstable nature which has resulted in a number of slow moving landslips caused by its geology – unstable lower layers of shale overlain by sandstone. There’s good view from the top, but not this time!
As the ridge is easily accessible from Manchester and Sheffield, it’s usually busy with walkers and despite it being a cold Friday afternoon in early December there were a number making their way towards Mam Tor, and a few others besides us heading towards Lose Hill . At the summit we stopped for a while chatting with a party of 5 – a family who were on an annual break in Edale celebrating the birthday of the pater familias!
As we descended off Mam Tor we came out of the cloud and had a good view along the rest of the ridge towards Black Tor and Lose Hill.
After a short steep climb we stopped at the top of Black Tor for a bite to eat.
After a short rest we set back off on towards the final summit of the day – Lose Hill. The hill is also known as “Ward’s Piece”, named in 1945 after W H B Ward, Socialist and founder of the Sheffield Ramblers in 1926 and, before that, in 1900, the Sheffield Clarion Ramblers.
We made our way back down towards Castleton via the path that ran down diagnolly down the side of the ridge
Reaching the bottom, looking up towards Mam Tor I could see a good number of paragliders in the sky. Our two aquatancies had been joined by other enthusiasts taking advantage of thermals that must have developed during the afternoon.
We were back in the village by about 3 o’clock. I’d never seen it so quiet. We made our way back to the car and set off and drove back to Graham’s Mother in Law’s house to drop Toby off for a bath and to cadge a brew! Then it was back tot he station where I had a short wait for the train. It arrived on time but had to stop outside Stockport Station for 25 or 20 minutes as there was another train on the platform waiting for the crew to arrive1 I was worried I might miss my connection at Piccadily but made it with a few minutes to spare – luckily it was sitting at the adjacent platform when we arrived at the station. It was an express train and so I was back at Wigan North Western, the first stop, in 35 minutes.
Since returning from our break in Appleby we’ve had fairly typical Autumn weather – regular grey and rainy days – not very inviting for getting out for a decent walk. I’d been getting a little stir crazy, so when there was the chance of a let up in the rain and a little sunshine, I’ve been booting up and getting out for local walks from the house. A week ago I decided to go a little further afield, but only just! I took the Southport train and got off at Appley Bridge, only two stops down the line from Wallgate station, for a walk up to Ashurst Beacon, returning to the station via the canal towpath.
It had rained on and off all morning but the forecast was promising for the afternoon. The sun was shining when I left home and during the train journey but as I alighted from the train there were a few raindrops which soon turned into a heavy downpour. By the time I’d opened my rucksack and put on my Torrentshell it had stopped! And I didn’t see another drop for the rest of the afternoon!
After a short walk along the road I took the path in between the rows of houses and through a muddy field
I was soon on a drier track starting to head uphill – not very steep though
Looking back across the fields over Wigan towards Winter Hill
Winding my way along the paths through fields and woodland and quiet lanes, I eventually arrived at Ashurst’s Beacon, on top of the 570 foot high Ashurst’s Hill.
The tower and it’s surroundings was left to Wigan Corporation in 1962 “for the enjoyment of the people of Wigan“. although it’s now in West Lancashire District (although one of the people of Wigan was there to enjoy it!). The plaque commemorating this seems to have disappeared from the side of the tower – probably robbed and melted down for scrap.
There’s an orientation plate pointing out the landmarks and when I was last up here there were expansive views right over to Morecambe Bay and the Lakeland Fells, the West Pennine Moors and, Southport, Liverpool and North Wales.
Not this time though. Since my last visit, which I now realise must have been getting on for 20 years ago, trees have sprouted up completely obscuring the views. It’s perhaps good for the environment but that didn’t make me any less disappointed. 😞
Nevertheless, as I started to descend, leaving the woods behind, views opened up towards the moors
I carried on down the hill taking a different route than my ascent.
Until I reached the Leeds Liverpool canal
I then followed the tow path back to Appley Bridge
The trees on the opposite bank were wearing their autumn coats!
There was a narrow boat moored up
Looking back along the canal from the Bridge
It’s a decent little walk – a few hour’s saunter on an Autumn afternoon – not far from home. I hadn’t seen many people, just a few dog walkers and local residents working in their gardens. I was disappointed about the loss of the views from the Beacon, but overall, that didn’t spoil the walk too much!
Our holiday in Appleby wasn’t a walking break but I did manage to tick off a route I’d been wanting to walk for some time. J was quite happy for me to disappear for a day so she could have a little time on her own.
The Monday was pretty awful – wind and rain, but I woke on Tuesday to a fine day, if a little cold when I was loading up the car with my walking gear. It was a short drive of about 5 miles to Dufton, where I parked up in the village car park.
It’s a pleasant former mining village, close to the Pennine Hills with several options for walks. I had planned to walk up to High Cup Nick, the top of High Cup Gill, an almost perfect glacial valley in the north Pennines.
Wikipedia tells us
The Ordnance Survey name the valley as High Cup Gill but it is often referred to by the name High Cup Nick, a name which properly refers in a more limited sense to the point at its northeastern limit where the headwaters of Highcup Gill Beck pass from the relatively flat terrain of High Cup Plain over the lip of High Cup Scar into the valley. ‘Gill’ is a word of Norse origin meaning narrow valley or ravine………….as seen in the classic view southwest over the valley into the Vale of Eden from its head at High Cup Nick, it is considered one of the finest natural features in northern England.
After parking up, I had a quick mooch around the village. Looking at that blue sky and it was hard to believe how awful the weather had been the previous day – but that’s the north of England for you! From the village green I could see that Cross fell and Great Dunn fell were capped with cloud – which isn’t so unusual, but the lower Dufton Pike was cloud free.
But that wasn’t were I was going. I was heading along the Pennine Way in the other direction and had my fingers crossed that the day would stay fine and that I’d get some good views.
It was a bit of a trudge at first up a fairly long stretch of tarmac, although as I climbed steadily views began to open up and the weather looked promising. It was misleadingly warm in the sunshine and I rapidly started peeling off layers – other walkers I met during the morning had also prepared for colder weather and had rucksacks full of fleeces and jackets that weren’t needed!
The road came to an end after a mile or so, turning into a rough track. I later met a couple of walkers who’d parked up at the end of the tarmac road, which cut out the walk on the tarmac.
Looking back there was a great view over to the Lakeland fells spread out on the horizon. Visibility was good and I could see for miles
I then passed through a gate onto the fell proper.
I passed an old lime kiln
It was a gradual climb up the side of the hillside, but, initially, the valley wasn’t visible being obstructed by the undulating landscape. But then, suddenly, it’s there before you.
Looking back down the valley.
The geology of the valley is particularly interesting, although much of the rock is limestone,
its rim (is) topped by enormous columns of volcanic rock. This rock, known as dolerite, was created during the Carboniferous period when the movement of tectonic plates forced magma to be squeezed sideways between beds of existing rock. As it then slowly cooled, the magma crystallised and shrank, forming the hexagonal columns that can be seen at High Cup today. (This same layer of dolerite, known as the Great Whin Sill, also forms the ridge along which the Romans built much of Hadrian’s Wall.)
I soon reached the head of the valley – the High Cup Nick. This was the view – the picture doesn’t do the view justice. I’d been concerned that it wouldn’t live up to it’s reputation and be something of a let down, but it definitely was not, particularly on a fine autumn day with views right across the Eden valley to the Lake District fells.
Looking in the other direction was a more or less featureless moor, wet and boggy.
I stopped for a while enjoying the view and to have a bite to eat and a coffee from my flask. There were a few other people who’d made their way up. I’d walked the last stretch up to the nick with a couple from Darlington, a young couple appeared who’d come over the bogs from Cow Green reservoir over in the East, another solo walker had come up from Murton via Murton Pike, and another person appeared climbing up from the bottom of the valley. I expect it gets very busy up here in the summer and at weekends, but on a fine autumn day mid week before the autumn half term it was fairly quiet and peaceful.
Time to start heading back! I’d decided on a circular route so started to make my way along the south ridge. There were a few options – I could have climbed a bit higher and followed the route over to Murton Pike, but that would have been a longer walk than I’d intended.
The path along the ridge gave good views down into the Gill.
Looking back to the Nick
Crossing the Middle Tongue it got a bit boggy !
but, hey, who cares with views like this
Starting to descend from the Middle Tongue I was back on drier ground amongst the limestone.
Murton Pike was over to my left. It was tempting!
Nearing the bottom of the descent I diverted and turned back following the lower level path that led into the bottom of the Gill. I wanted to get a shot up the valley. The light was good and with the sunlight filtering through cloud in the sky created patterns of light and shade.
I turned back and continued my descent towards the farm at Harbour Flat.
Looking back towards the hills and the Gill
I reached the quiet lane that runs between Dufton and Murton. Some more walking on tarmac for a while
before I turned off along a path through the fields and then joined the route of A Pennine Journey heading towards Dufton
Nearing the village I took the path through the very pleasant woodland that lines Dufton Gill
Then a final climb out of the gill into the village. I had a mooch around the village green taking in the views of the high Pennine hills
The village, “the farmstead where the doves were kept”, goes back to at least the 12th Century and grew during the 17th and 18th centuries when lead mines were opened up on Dufton Fell. Most of the houses around the green are from this period
there are extensive mining remains on Dufton Fell. The early mining leases were granted by the Lords of the Manor of Dufton throughout the 17th and 18th centuries. From about 1820 the mines were taken over by the London Lead Company (the “Quaker Company”). Lead mining ceased on Dufton Fell in 1897; however barytes have been extracted from the spoil heaps on two occasions in the 20th century.
in the 19th century there were many, including grocer’s, butcher’s (with abbatoir), bakery, general dealer’s and draper’s. The present cafe was the village post office and shop into the 21st century.
It seems like the Quakers were decent employers, building cottages for their workers as well as a school, and a library. They also provided a water supply installing five fountains in the village including this one on the village green, built in 1858.
It was very quiet. There were a few other walkers returning to their cars but other than that not a sole to be seen. There was a cafe in the old Post office, but it was closed – it doesn’t reopen until Easter – and the village pub, the Stag, didn’t look as if it was open. So no chance of a brew!
I returned to my car and changed out of my boots. After chatting with an older couple who’d been walking with their young adult granddaughter, I set off back to Appleby. It was only a 20 minute drive back tot he cottage where a welcome brew was waiting for me.
The day after my walk from Staveley to Bowness I was out again. This time I decided to avoid the trains and a long drive on the motorway and headed off to the Forest of Bowland. I travelled via Clitheroe and a fine drive over Waddington Fell on to Slaidburn where I parked up in the car park at the end of the village near the bridge over the Hodder. I’d planned a walk up on to the Salter Road. Also known as the Hornby Road, it’s an ancient route that links the Lune Valley with the old West Riding of Yorkshire, running between Slaidburn and Hornby. It’s an old packhorse trail and about 3 miles of it travel over part of a Roman Road that linked Ribchester and Carlisle. At one time is was probably a busy route but during my walk I didn’t see another walker – although a couple of small groups of motorcyclists riding trail bikes passed me coming from the opposite direction. Alfred Wainwright as one of the finest moorland walks in the country. I’d love to walk the full route but that would need some organising as it’s too far for a there and back walk. So my walk would be just a taster.
I had an idea on where I’d go but left my options open to see exactly which route I’d follow. It was a fine day, with a stiff breeze and an autumnal nip in the air.
Slaidburn is on the Lancashire Witches Walk and next to the car park is one of the ten tercet waymarkers, this one commemorating Alice Nutter. (A tercet is form of poem comprising a three-line stanza). My plan was to visit another waymarker up on the moors.
The Daylight Gate is the title of a novel by Jeanette Winterson published during the 300 anniversary year of the Pendle Witches trial. It’s very characteristic of Winterson’s “Magic Realism” style centering on “Alice Nutter”, although she’s not much like the real historical character.
I set off through the village
passing the war memorial
and then turning down the road by the village shop
As well as the humbler former workers’ cottages, there’s a number of larger houses in the village.
A short distance along the road I turned off onto a path along the river, initially through woodland.
I was following the route of the Lancashire Witches Walk.
I was soon out of the woods and walking through fields, the grass wet with dew, with a view of the fells ahead.
After crossing fields I joined the Salter road eventually reaching the gate beyond which the route isn’t passable by motorised vehicles (although, no doubt, you’ll get off roaders driving over here and disturbing the peace and quiet)
But there was nothing to stop a walker carrying on.
A short distance along from the gate I came to “intersection” where the path to Dunsop head leaves the Salter road. The memorial stone commemorates the crew of four aircraft who were killed when their planes crashed on the nearby moors during WWII
A close up of the memorial
I carried on along the road that started to snake across the quiet moor land
I spotted a shepherds hut and sheepfold down in the bottom of the valley
I eventually reached the second Lancashire Witches waymarker of the day, by the side of the road near to Croasdale quarry
This one commemorated Elizabeth Device, who was, apparently, known locally as Squinting Lizzie due to a facial deformity. She was the daughter of Old Demdike, the 80 odd year old matriarch of one of the two “clans” that formed the core of the women who were executed. Her Nine-year-old Jennet Device was one of the main witnesses for the prosecution in the trial at Lancaster. (Ironically, twenty years after the trial Jennet was accused of witchcraft herself. However, she escaped the fate of her mother, brother James and sister Alison)
Having reached the waymarker I now had to decide how to proceed. I could see in the distance a building just off the road which raised my curiosity. I was tempted to head up White Hill, the second highest point in Bowland, over to the east, but decided against the climb up over a pathless moor. There was a shooter’s track heading up teh fell to the west and I wondered whether I might find a way over the moor to Dunsop Head.
I decided to take this track. At first the going was good but as I climber higher up the moor it deteriorated and by the time I reached the shooting butts I was starting to wade through the wet peat. It was clear that a walk across the moor to Dunsop head would be a pathless rough traverse over the grass and heather and peat bogs. An option for a dry spell in the summer, but not one to savour that day.
So I retraced my steps back down towards the road, initially losing the path having to make my way through the grass and heather before regaining the track confirmed that I was wise not to try and tackle the long bog trot over to Dunsop Head. On the way down I spotted Pen-y-ghent peeking over the top of the hill to the east.
And this was the view south / south-east with Pendle Hill clearly visible.
Reaching the road I decided to carry on to take a look at the building I could see. It was a shooter’s hut. It was locked and boarded up to keep out riff raff like me, but I stopped for a while for a hot coffee and a bite to eat.
I then retraced my steps along the road – this section being part of the former Roman road.
I passed the waymarker again.
Carrying on heading south
Reaching an intersection I decided to take the path down Croasdale. and then head back across the fields to Slaidburn.
Looking back over the lonely moors after I’d passed through a gate
The going was good at first. I was on a track that leading to the ruin of the House of Croasdale, probably a former shepherd’s hut or shieling rather than a farm house.
The path then veered of f through long grass with stretches of bog down the side of the valley towards the river, yellow topped wooden posts showing the way – just!
It wasn’t easy going but I managed to keep my feet out of the worst of the gluey wet peat – there were wooden walkways laid over the worst of the bog.
I had to cross over the river, just about keeping my feet dry by balancing precariously on rocks in the rushing water. The path was difficult to follow in a few places but I eventally found the track that took me down towards Croasdale House
Looking back to the farm house after I’d passed by .
I carried on down the concrete track. I missed the turnoff onto a path across the field hat would have been a short cut and easier underfoot.
At he end of the track I turned right towards Shay House (another farm) and bjust before the farmhouse climber over a stile and began a walk over a series of fields that took me back towards Slaidburn.
From the lower lying land there were good views over to the high fells.
Reaching Slaidburn I called into the Bowland Chocolate Company shop and made a few purchases to earn a few brownie points when I got back home,
and then stopped at the cafe next to the car park where I stopped for a while to enjoy a brew and a slice of blueberry cake (needed to boost my blood sugar!).
The cafe is a favourite of motorcyclists and there were a few groups on nearby tables. Earwigging I could overhear anecdotes being swapped by a group of older “bikers” on the next table. One was relating a story of a friend who when stopped by a police officer was asked why he was riding at 92 mph – his answer, apparently was “because the bike won’t do 100 mph”.
Sitting outside the cafe I’d noticed a number of Morgan’s driving past – there must have been a rally on and they were taking a scenic drive through Bowland. Two cars had pulled into the car park so their occupants could refresh themselves in the cafe. I snapped them as they were driving out of the car park.
Due to difficulties generating the full route using the OS maps app I had to do it in two parts – out and back again (the app doesn’t like it if you retrace your steps). So, this is my outward route
A couple of weeks ago, Friday was the Autumn Equinox, the second day of equal daytime and night-time and the start of Autumn. The sun was shining and I decided to make the most of it. After my experience the previous Saturday when I was held up for 6 hours when they shut the southbound M6 around Lancaster I decided I’d let the train take the strain and caught the direct service from North Western station to Windermere. I disembarked at Staveley ready to repeat a walk I did earlier in the year, more or less on the last leg of the Dales way, but diverting off the route to take in three smaller fells.
There was a real autumnal feel to the day but the sun was bright and it was pleasant and warm. A good day for a walk, especially as the air was clear and, not being too hot, visibility was excellent.
Turning right on leaving the station there was a stretch of walking along a minor road before turning off onto paths across the fields.
The route then followed another minor road with views starting to open up of the fells
over to my right
Then back on a track through the fields
I caught up with a retired couple who’d been walking the Dales Way from Ilkley. We started to chat and then walked together for a while before I strayed off the Dales Way to climb the first small fell – Grandsire.
A young female fellow walker was sitting on the summit – eyes closed. I didn’t disturb her but found my own rock to sit in a drank the views of the fells while drinking a coffee from my flask
The distinctive Whaleback of Red Screes clearly noticeable
Time to carry on. I took the path along the top of the hill, gradually descending down to the tarn at the foot of School Knott
and then climbed my second small fell of the day
I descended, retracing my steps down to the tarn and then took the path which re-joined the Dales Way which I followed until, getting close to Bowness, I diverted up the final hill of the day – Brant Fell
There were a few other people on the summit, but it wasn’t very busy. More brews to soak up with a coffee and a bite to eat. From here I could see almost the full length of Windermere
I spent about half an hour soaking up the views before making my way back down the hill and on towards Bowness.
I had about 20 minutes to wait for the bus back to Windermere. The bus stop was by the church so I popped into the churchyard to take a look at the war memorial which was designed by W G Collingwood
It was only a short ride up to the interchange by the train station. I had time for a brew in Booths supermarket cafe and then feeling good after a grand walk made my way to the platform to catch the 4 o’clock train direct to Windermere. No hassle like the week before when. Well, not quite. The signs on the platform said the train was cancelled. A few minutes after I arrived one of the staff told us the train was going to be arriving on time but was only going as far as Oxenholme. There had been a fatality on the West Coast main line between Oxenholme and Lancaster which was affecting all the services travelling up and down that section. As promised the train pulled in on time and everyone boarded, but we all had to disembark at Oxenholme. The station was hectic and there was an Avanti train standing on the south bound line. I boarded and somehow managed to find a seat on the packed train. I found that it had been stuck there for two hours. After another hour it finally set off and I sat back and relaxed knowing that it would get me back to Wigan in about an hour. Well, it would have done except as it approached Preston it was announced that they were terminating the service there. A packed train of passengers, many going down to London had to disembark. It was chaos on Preston station with very little information available. Eventually I managed to board another packed train – standing room only but it was only a 20 minute journey back to Wigan so I coped!
Well, after my last two visits, the lesson here is that you’re ever travelling south from the Lake District, by any form of transport, you’d be advised to make sure I wasn’t on my home using the same means of transport. I’m clearly jinxed.
On a more serious note, it had been a nuisance being delayed but there was no point being annoyed. It wasn’t the fault of the train operators and it has to be said the effect on travellers was a minor inconvenience compared that on the family of the person who was killed and the driver who had to face the though that his train had killed someone.
The Saturday after my trip to Coniston, summer was coming to an end and while the weather looked promising I decided to get out for a walk. After my experience on the M6 the previous week I wasn’t in the mood for a long drive, so decided to head off to Rivington and get up on the moors. It looked like it would be a fine day – a little chilly and, as I found out, fairly windy high up, but conditions were otherwise good.
When I arrived at Rivington around 10 am I was surprised how busy it was. All the parking spaces along the drive up to the Hall were taken. I subsequently discovered that there were a couple of outdoor events taking place – a run and also a schools or youth event. However, there were spaces on the car park near the Hall Barn so I parked up, booted up and set off for my walk. I’d decided to start by climbing the Pike and then see how it went.
I took the less frequented route through the woods along the bottom of the Pike, climbing up to the top of the Ornamental gardens via “the Ravine”.
It’s well known that weather in the Lake District is highly variable. It changes from one day to the next and often during a given day. But it also variable across the National Park. Each valley seems to have its own micoclimate; it can be sunny in one while pouring down in the next one, and I certainly experienced just that during my recent short stay in Coniston. It had generally been wet in the Lakes while I was there but the South East area, including Coniston, seemed to have fared better than most of the region. That had certainly been the case on the Friday (despite a downpour for part of the day while I was coming off Swirl How). The forecast for Saturday for Coniston was also looking promising, so I was looking forward to a walk on my last day before I set off home.
After a long walk on the high fells the previous day I’d decided on a low level route starting at Tarn Hows, heading over to Black Crag and then on to Holme Fell. Climbing only two modest fells, the walk wasn’t difficult but passed through pleasant countryside and I was treated to outstanding views throughout. It’s now definitely on my list of favourite routes.
I parked up at the small National Trust car park near Yew Tree Tarn, booted up and set off up the path that climbs up to Tarn Hows through Tom Heights Plantation
and emerging towards the southern end of the Tarn
I’m going to let the photos I took along the route speak for themselves.
Outstanding views from the trig point
I called into Yewdale farm as I wanted to buy some of their most excellent Beltie and Herdie burgers. The Beltie (Belted Galloway beef) burgers are the best we’ve ever tasted. I normally order online but calling in personally I avoided the delivery charge! It was then a short walk back to the car park.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable walk. I’ll definitely repeat it when I’m staying around here in the future. It’s a good walk to finish a holiday before setting back home – not too long or strenuous but with outstanding views.
I set of for home before 3 pm and although I called in at Booths in Windermere to pick up some supplies, I expected to be home before 6pm. Unfortunately that didn’t happen. I hadn’t realised that, in their wisdom, the National Roads Agency had decided to shut the south bound carriageway (all 3 lanes!) just before the Lancaster services for the weekend. They claim they had publicised this but I hadn’t seen anything. The first I knew of it was when approaching Lancaster when I saw a matrix sign informing me of a 2 hour delay due to the south bound M6 being shut. It was too late to turn off and take an alternative route (I could have done this if they’d had a sign up before, or even at, the junction I joined the motorway near Kendal). Oh well, I thought, I can live with a 2 hour delay. I arrived home after 10 pm after 5 hours crawling between the 2 junctions north and south of Lancaster on the M6. It could have been worse, some people joining the queue after me were stuck even longer. Goodness knows why anyone thought shutting one side of the M6 for the weekend was a good idea.
Oh well, I wasn’t going to let that spoil a good short break!
The week after our family holiday in the Midlands I was off again for a few days for a short solo break in Coniston where I’d booked into the Youth Hostel for a couple of nights. The weather forecast was mixed, especially the first day and at one point I contemplated cancelling. But, with summer coming to an end, I decided against it and take my chances.
The weather forecast for the first day proved to be correct when I arrived in a wet Coniston on the Thursday afternoon. There weren’t that many people around in the streets but the main car park was full and all the street parking spaces were taken. I eventually managed to park up but it was raining steadily so I decided to pay a visit to the Ruskin Museum and see how it looked later in the afternoon.
I spent a good hour mooching around.
The museum was founded as a memorial to John Ruskin, who spent the last years of his life at Brantwood on the east shore of Coniston Water and who died on 20 January 1900, by his secretary and friend, W G Collingwood. Many of the original exhibits were from Ruskin’s own collection of geological samples.
The exhibits cover the history of Coniston, it’s geology, industry and well known individuals, including Ruskin and Arthur Ransome. One wing is devoted to Donald Campbell and his attempts at the water speed record on Coniston Water in the 1960’s. He was tragically killed on 4 January 1967 when attempting to break the record Bluebird hit a wave at over 300 mph, flipped over and crashed upside down on the water and sank. I remember vividly watching the film of the crash on the TV news as a boy.
It was still raining as I left the museum so I decided to make my way down to the lake and have a brew in the Bluebird cafe on the lake shore.
I stopped for a while watching the Gondola leaving the jetty
before retreating to the cafe.
The rain had eased off so I decided I’d set off for a walk along the lakeside. I had thought about catching the launch, disembarking down past Torver and walking back, but I was between sailings, so decided to do a “there and back walk” past Coniston Hall and see how far I got.
I’d walked a couple of miles when the rain started agin so I turned round and retraced my steps back towards the cafe
Time for a warming brew.
Afterwards I made my way back to the car, drove the short distance to the hostel and checked in.
The rain cleared during the evening so I set off for a short walk down to the lake, along tot he jetty and then back through the village and along the path at the bottom of Yewdale.