Christmas and New Year, 2024

 Sunday 29th December 2024

I feel  churlish not having posted a Christmas message until now, however, it's not too late to wish everybody good things for 2025.

Christmas was celebrated with daughter Jill and son William and W's sixteen year old feline Pancake. She developed an almost frantic addiction to cuts from our half leg of lamb. A couple of months ago, after a long period on Aldi cat food, Pancake rebelled and her regular is now the universally accepted Whiskas. That is welcomed by our friend Ian Bullough, who runs our two splendid convenience stores in the village, one of which is also our post office.The original shop is usually referred to as Bully's, snd the one nearer to my abode as The Top Shop.

We continued two traditions:

1.  Champagne and bacon butties on Christmas Day whilst opening presents, and champagne a little later on Boxing Day morning. The latter includes a remembrance of, and a toast,  to Ann, my wife who passed on Boxing Day 1997 after two and a half years struggle with MND. Ann's father had also  coincidentally died on a Boxing Day, and my mother died on a Christmas Eve.

2. At various intervals during Christmas dinner preparation we indulged in our traditional "Bombers," our version of dry Martini with the usual debate of correct ratios of gin to Noilly Prat.

Best wishes to you all.

C.

Jill and myself upholding tradition.

Not done yet with summits

 Tuesday 26th November 2024

After recent mud wallowing and floundering in farmer's fields I vowed to find something more akin to my lifelong enjoyment of higher ground.

The Yorkshire Dales, have many old tracks and bridleways, often with access from single track roads eliminating long climbs from the valley bottom.

This was a spur of the moment decision. I had nothing tempting enough in the cupboard to make a sandwich. I was off at 8:30 am and called st Crooklands Filling Station. I bought a sandwich and an ordinary pack of four almond slices. My main shopping for a number of years has been at Aldi and now every time I make an interim food purchase elsewhere I get a jolt - £6.09!

I recently changed my car and now have a Kia Sportage, but with manual contrasting with automatics which I had for years. I tried to count up my number of cars since 1959 -  approximately now forty three. The majority of that time was with manual gear changing and that of course is ingrained, but it has taken me a few miles to get back to the finer points, especially fishing around in the modern six gears box.

I drove steeply out of Settle to park at the emergence of the Pennine Bridleway. The OS map indicates what I would expect to be an unsurfaced road. I was surprised to find it climbing steadily on good quality tarmac for about two kilometers arriving at Stockdale Farm, From there a track to the farm in the valley below peels off and the Pennine Bridleway continues through a gate now as footpath.

My breathless affliction, which has been under medical investigation now for over two years was well tested by the non-stop gentle but relentless ascent. I had many stops to huff snd puff.

Looking down to Stockdale Farm it appeared to be exceptionally neat and tidy, and surprisingly large considering its isolated location. Here is a link to some interesting history and a long occupation by the Hargreaves family up to 1911. As far as I can find from limited time, searching on the Internet, the present occupants are Cowperthwaites?

https://d1biszitk051fy.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/Hargrave3.pdf

The well kept appearance of the farm was underlined by the gate fastening leading onto the PB footpath which had been copiously daubed with grease making opening and closing easier: a welcome touch which I have wondered from time to time why it is not more frequently done.

The Pennine Bridleway continues on classic Yorkshire Dales track alternating between cropped turf and limestone track.

At a gate south of Rye Loaf Hill ( SD 864 632) I was looking for a means of ascent. Its ascent was my target for the day but I had not been sure if I would have enough puff left to achieve that after many months of non-summiting. I went through the gate and turned north to arrive at a wall after a hundred yards. There was no way through. I turned left and walked on rough terrain following the wall looking for a gate until I arrived at the next gate back on the PB. I retraced back to the first gate snd went back through and went north again to climb over a wired up gate and follow the proper side of the wall all the way to the summit. I have been there before when I did all the trigs on OS Sheet 98. Today, although sun was shining there was a cold wind. I took in the extensive view and a quick photo for the record and retreated returning by the same route. The distance had been just short of six miles and had taken me four hours and fifty minutes. Apart from huff snd puff stops I took no proper rest all the way. The expensive snacks I had bought were devoured later at home in lieu of my normal proper evening meal. 

This return to summiting does not indicate any particular improvement in my breathless problem, it was demanding, but worthwhile, and just sheer bloody-mindedness for my need to get out into some proper walking country with a decent objective.

Entrance to the Pennine Bridleway from the road. Good tarmac for two kms. to Stockdale Farm

Nom-stop ascent all the way to the summit of Rye Loaf Hill

Looking back at my ascent

Pano. of Attermire Scar and its various named "scar" associates. I'm not sure exactly where is the climbing. I have visited the trig but not been there for climbing as far as I can remember 

Farmer's problems. Not much fun working all that back to the wall on that steep slope

Track to Stockdale Farm off to the right. The PB goes through the gate with the well greased latch, see below

Perfect Yorkshire Dales walking

Rye Loaf Hill ahead - zoom

Getting nearer

Looking back

Rye Loaf summit. Ingleborough on skyline with a bit of cloud hovering

Blogger Dashboard has lost its temper. I have been nearly an hour trying to get the last photo and the maps in proper order including "remove formatting" etc. but to no avail. The last photo is looking back at my ascent route up the right hand valley side with Stockdale Farm nestling. Note the short there and back detour at the righthand end of the map route.

Bleasdale with BC

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  never passed through or ended up there. 'Tis  a source of humour between the two of us.

My car was booked to have a combined reversing camera and sat nav installed at Base Systems in Preston. They have been there for over 50 years and operate to a high standard fitting quality audio equipment to motor vehicles. They needed a whole day from 8:30 am so, as their location was not far from BC's residence, I asked him if he would like to meet me there and make a walking day of it.

I had left it to BC to devise a walk but as I got into his car I sensed that it was to be a mystery tour, but I think I put a bit of a damper on that. I I couldn't help asking "Are we going to Kemple End?" There was no reply, except for a hint of a grin from BC.

Our first destination was back to BC's house for a welcome coffee, and to give  Seth, BC's seventeen year old cat, the news that we would be coming back after  the rest of the walking that BC had planned. That was  to take Seth to the cattery for his sojourn of a few days while BC would go off next day on yet another multi day LDP walk.

We drove off into the network of attractive roads in the southern bowl of the Bowland Hills and parked at an isolated spot which I would have difficulty in finding again without the aid of a good map and the now gleaned name of the location. We took a  rough path alarmingly near the edge of a thirty foot drop into a now tree grown quarry below.  After a hundred yards or so BC indicated we needed to descend a steep banking of muddy tussocky grass, and steep enough to require us  to turn and face and descend with some difficulty. At the bottom a sweep of impressive rock from the old quarry ran off for around a hundred yards ending in an impressive knife edge arrete that was an obvious magnet for any hot blooded climber. This was Kempel End. BC had been one of the original developers of this excellent rock climbing venue many years ago and he was rightly "proud" to at last show it off to me.

Another car drive took us to start a walk around Bleasdale. That is the attractive vale enclosed by Parlick, Fair Snape Fell and other fells on the southern edge of the Bowland Hills. We had perfect blue sky walking weather, not quite cold enough to need gloves and all was peace and quiet.. BC is knowledgeable about this part of his domain and enlarged on many points of interest. We were also able to look again at part of the route we had walked on 28th November 2018 on our straight line walk between our respective houses. A memorable day involving a rhinoceros. 

Not far from the finish we had a final highlight visiting the Bronze Age Bleasdale Circle.

Back at BC's we picked up Seth and dropped him off at his temporary home - he seemed little fazed having been through this routine many times over the years. BC took me back to my car and off I went home trying to get the voice part of the new sat-nav working. That has been sorted now and all is well.

What a good day. Thanks BC

Tricky descent to get to see Kemple End.

The arete can be seen overexposed in the distance

The Arete. Several E grade routes with stories to tell

Looking back from the arete to the end where we gained access and exit

Seth is always friendly

Bleasdale church - the original goes back to Saxon times

Saxon window, (but not the lintel I was informed)

The stone from the original building has been used elsewhere in the area as required as per the carved lump in this wall

Unusual self catering units with fabric or similar roofing and walls. I didn't search too much on the Internet and couldn't track them down. Could be odd when the wind blows?

Old packhorse bridge on the route from the large Bleasdale Estate house to the school and the church

Fair Snape Fell and Parlick

Well preserved cobbled farmyard. We pondered on the source of these presumably river weathered stones

Bleasdale Circle. There is a notch in the skyline which it is thought aligns the sun with the circle at the solstice

I used tracking on my Memory Map on iPhone for the first time ever. When enlarged you can see the slight variation on our there and back routes to the Bleasdale Circle.

Bloody Gate (literal.) B. bog (swearing.)

 Wednesday 30th October 2024

Dank, dismal, dreary and sometimes dangerous. The contents of a less than satisfactory walk

I crossed the road to New Hutton church. There were a pair of dramatic greyhound gatekeepers on columns at the entrance. Ah! An almost certain snippet for this post. But no! Subsequent research revealed not much was known except they may have been brought there from a local farm.

Squelchy, cow trodden farmer's fields were the main feature of the rest of the day with awful stiles competing with the field for degrees of censure.

OS shows the footpath crossing the wall in the exact corner of the second field of the day. There was no stile. But, thirty yards to the right the wall top was broken where folk had obviously crossed but it was all a loose jumble. I did managed to cross with much difficulty, fortunately without bringing down the whole lot, but it was like playing that game of Pick-a-stick where one false move creates disaster.

Part of the low rating for this day of dismal weather was my own fault with several egregious errors of navigation. At Millrigg farm I did a hundred yards of steep uphill on the wrong side of a fence and had to retreat having missed the footpath sign somewhat obscured by trees. (The slightest ascent is noticeable with my breathlessness.)

The next stile may have been ok in summer but the through stones were covered with green slippery slime and impossible to stand on. I had to climb the wall on the right instead, again with awkward contortion and exaggerated care to avoid breaking a leg or worse.

Approaching Hall Bank farm I could see a bullock feeding from a trough next to the field exit. With one eye on the animal I set about opening those huge double galvanised farm gates. They have a kind of heavy attachment that folds over and down each side of the gate to fasten. With part of my attention on a potential bullfight I let the thing slip and it bashed the back of my hand. A small vein was cut and quite extensive bleeding followed. I wrapped a handkerchief round that and later on a plaster from my rucksack. At the farm there was no indication of the marked footpath. There was an attached holiday cottage and I wondered round the back as there seemed to be nobody at the farm. I was taken aback to see a portly naked guy sitting in a huge outdoor hot-tub bubbling and steaming away. He had no knowledge  of footpaths and was quite curt and unpleasant in his manner which was perhaps understandable. I retreated and found an unmarked route through gates to get back onto the main track- Country walking eh!

A bit of relief followed from a stretch of downhill road taking me to Millholme Bridge and then an ancient sunken uphill bridleway with loose rocky stones underfoot covered by fallen leaves. 

At Ashes farm I thought the path went through the farmyard and I was accosted by a slightly irritated farmer who directed me onto the proper path down the side where again, mea culpa, I had missed the footpath sign.

You can see the rest of the route on the map below, but again I missed a path turning for Hall House and walked several hundred yards downhill in error having to return back uphill. By now with all the diversions and endless stopping to check the map I was starting to worry about it getting dark before I finished.

At Hawkrigg Farm my route coincided briefly with my outward path and perhaps because of tiredness  I made the huge error of turning the wrong way when I was only about a third of a mile from the car. I walked over half a mile in the wrong direction with no option but to return.

On the short common stretch with my outward journey I had crossed a very boggy area with difficulty to a stile. There was no way of avoiding it. As I now ventured back onto this stretch my feet became suctioned and I fell forwards into the mud, Both arms went in right up to my elbows, and I was wallowing in sloppy mud. With my two replacement knees I do have difficulty in getting back up from the ground. There was one thicker tussock I manage to crawl frontside onto then heave myself up pushing down, but my feet were sucked in. Eventually with supreme effort I managed to stand. I took one step forward and the rear foot didn't follow and I fell again and had to start all over. I was there for half an hour. It was now dark and I was completely covered, rucksack and Paramo jacket and trousers and all in wet mud.  I walked the couple of hundred yards to get onto the road. From there a footpath of about quarter of a mile lead back to my car but I didn't fancy that in the dark even though I did have a torch. I could see that I could use the road instead albeit a longer distance. Just then a farmer appeared from the farm on a quad bike and I waved him down and he kindly took me back to my car.

I think I have finished with farmer's fields, blocked footpaths and country walking. I yearn for higher ground but with my affliction that is not easy to attain. I must search out again some of the old Dales limestone lanes even if it means just doing a linear there and back.

In a lifetime's walking there will always be bad days as with any sport or pastime, and if nothing else I did manage to extricate myself without calling out the boys and there was some mild satisfaction in that.

New Hutton church with the unexplained greyhound gatekeepers

Here we go into the squelch

OS marked the footpath at the wall corner fifty yards to the left. There was no access over the wall there - just this precarious problem which I managed to cross without breaking my leg

I had walked up the wrong side of this fence and had to retreat, only then to see the footpath sign partly obscured by trees

Through stones covered in slime. I had to climb round the righthand side of the posts instead

Happy days!

This just shows the gloomy atmosphere that persisted all day contrary to a more optimistic weather forecast

The man in the hot-tub is just under the bush to the right of the house door. I did zoom in Photoshop but he is just concealed by the bush

Route goes clockwise from New Hutton. The odd red lines show where I went the wrong way