The dales donned winter clothes this week. Autumn hues hung around the route of the River Ribble while higher up, snow clung to the hillsides. The Three Peaks all dressed differently on the day I drove round the trio. Penyghent (above) caught a bit of sun and looked streaky and cold, yet inviting. Whernside looked settled and serene, the peak playing peek-a-boo through the clouds. Ingleborough seemed more angry about the whole affair, wrestling with the clouds. I felt an icy reception as I trampled around its foothills looking for a decent photo. We’re not really in winter yet but days like this remind walkers that the dales demand respect at all times.
Icy landscape looking up Chapel-le-DaleRainbow near Gearstones
Passport and phrase book in hand I left the Dales for the Lake District on Friday. As usual with my trips to the North West I head towards the blue sky over the distant South Lakeland Fells you can see from the A65 in Yorkshire – but which by the time I reach them they are covered in a grey fug. Still, after completing the job I had to do in Coniston I managed to grab a few worthwhile shots.
Sun halo over Coniston WaterLooking towards Coniston
I got to Coniston at 11am on the 11th of the 11th and pulled into the empty car park for two minutes of silence. That done I paid 20p for a toilet visit and had a quick nosey around the information centre. I then noticed that car parking cost £3 for a short stay then further arms and legs after that. The first 15 minutes are free and with the car clock now showing 11.17 I made a hasty exit. No wonder Coniston’s narrow streets are packed with cars and several businesses are for sale. I wait to see whether the number plate recognition system will take into consideration my two-minute stop to pay my respects. This is no place for tight Yorkshiremen.
Back in the Dales I tweeted a photo showing the war memorial at Horton-in-Ribblesdale with the line ‘Yet people still vote for those who promote hatred’, prompted by you-know-who’s election (clue: in Yorkshire slang his name aptly means ‘obnoxious smell emanating from ones posterior’). It truly astounds me that a country with 325m inhabitants could only come up with those two characters for their president.
Earlier in the week I was following the story of the sink hole in Ripon. I know it’s a very serious problem for those involved but I had to laugh at the BBC Look North’s tweet which included this quote from a resident: “I went outside and it was all dusty, my neighbour was out there in a dressing gown and it was a real mess.”
Never mind luv, my old dressing gown’s not that good either.
Regular followers will know I’ve taken many photos of Drybeck Farm here in Ribblesdale. I was pleased to receive this week a calendar produced by Agrii which features one such picture of mine. Proceeds from the calendar go to farming charities.
Rather than watch the Dales bus ride from Richmond to Ingleton on TV I travelled up Ribblesdale to see a sunset. It was well worth it for this week’s photo diary. The view of Moughton Scar and Wharfe hamlet when the late sun catches hillside there is always a fine sight. I sat in a lay-by on the back road from Helwith Bridge to Stainforth as the sun finally set. The colours and patterns were amazing behind the silhouettes of Norber and Robin Procter Scar. To my right, now in half-light, Ribblesdale and Penyghent looked like the red-grey dying embers of a bonfire. My thanks to the passing cyclist who helped make the top shot a much better picture.
Night falls on PenyghentWharfe hamlet beneath Moughton in some strong evening lightA different angle on the sunsetSilhouettes near AustwickMy car doesn’t usually star in my photos so here’s its moment of glory
I watched the bus ride programme in three chunks on iPlayer. (I’ve never been one for long bus rides – I was often the one throwing up on school trips). When I’m driving around the Dales I’m usually forever gawping at the scenery and almost crashing – but with the TV programme I found myself looking at the road and thinking ‘he’s going to crash into that wall’! I’d read somewhere that this was a ‘real time’ trip along the route … well it certainly wasn’t: it took just about five minutes to get from Hawes to Ribblehead in the iPlayer version I watched, so unless they switched from bus to jet fighter part-way it wasn’t ‘real time’. And the journey ended at Ribblehead, missing some of those great views and features along Chapel-le-Dale.
Three shots all taken at or near Ribblehead. The train one a reminder of this time last year when the steam specials were still heading along the Settle-Carlisle line.
Later in the week I parked up on the Kingsdale road for a wander around this peaceful dale. I also popped down to Thornton Force where lots of Dales holidaymakers were enjoying the waterfalls walk – I say ‘enjoying’ but looking at some of the tortured faces of those not expecting to climb hundreds of steps to join the green lane above the waterfalls, I’m not sure enjoyment was what they were experiencing. Certainly many looked as though this was their first, and probably last, exercise of the year.
The clear water of Kingsdale Beck.Rain heading in from the west. Kingsdale.Looking up Kingsdale towards Whernside.Ingleborough peeking out above Twisleton Scar, seen from Kingsdale.Thornton Falls on the Ingleton Falls walk.
A lot of my spare time over the last few weeks has involved fitting a kitchen into my tiny cottage. The building was obviously constructed before right-angles and straight lines were invented. Seemingly it was built by eye – unfortunately, the eyes must have been owned by the village drunk. Anyway, I’ve run out of money now so hopefully more time for photography and wandering around the Dales in the coming weeks.
Did anyone see a sheep without its bottom set this week?Late sun on a path above Langcliffe.
I’m lucky enough to remember lapping up weeks of sun in the Yorkshire Dales during the sweltering summer of 1976. Those days of my early 20s, when I was still enjoying life to the full, came to mind last Sunday.
Conditions during those long, dry summer days of 40 years ago couldn’t have been more different. In the greyness of the morning I photographed the flooded Ribble at Langcliffe. It cascaded over the weir where surrounding fields were soaking up unusually heavy August rain from further up Ribblesdale.
Thankfully, a brighter day followed and I was able to take my only walk of the week in the Dales. I parked at St Leonard’s in Chapel-le-Dale, pottering about around Hurtle Pot before heading up the rough track to Ellerbeck Farm and circling back.
I can’t for the life of me remember what the bright orange-red plant is – can anyone remind me?
The sun struggles to find a way through the tree canopy along this way, and Nature has created a strange little world here. The limestone outcrops are covered in a carpet of mosses and lichens; ferns and other shade-preferring plants thrive in the crevices.
A surprising statue jumps out of the shrubs – the plaque says: ‘For years a statue stood on this spot. It was vandalised on Saturday August 27th 1983 and subsequently found in 30 feet of water at the bottom of Hurtle Pot. An enthusiastic team of divers made the recovery and it has been erected again as found. It was the creation of the late Charles I’Anson the well known sculptor and artist. Time will tell if the spirit of the Boggard of Hurtle Pot is now enshrined in the statue.’
Not wishing to hang around to find out, I moved quickly on. The track opens out beneath the mass of Whernside into a landscape of wild boggy fell which had acted like a sponge during the previous day’s downpour. The limestone outcrops which break up the bogland provide some excellent foregrounds for photos (first pic in post).
Great views up and down the Dales appear as you gain height. Beyond Ribblehead Viaduct I could clearly see the old Roman Road heading up Cam. It’s creamy surface, laid to take wagons for wood clearance, creates an open scar on the hillside. Hopefully it will soon blend into the surroundings.
There’s a pleasant waterfall beneath my feet here where I stopped to take a short video of the view – see link below (yes, I am out of breath and incredibly unfit at the moment).
I could also pick out the path restoration work being carried out up Ingleborough. There were plenty of folk attempting the Three Peaks and I hope they all contribute to the route’s upkeep – http://www.yorkshiredales.org.uk
I think I’ve found a couple of extra carriages for Branson’s trains. Plenty of room here Jeremy.
The long days this week have created some great lighting for photography in the Dales. The best times have been in the evenings – which has was good for me as I’ve had a busy time during the day at my computer. Locally I’ve driven the short distances to Kingsdale, Chapel-le-Dale, Crummackdale, Silverdale and Littondale – and of course Ribblesdale. The Three Peaks proved once again to be perfect subjects as they caught the late sunshine. They seem to be dozing like three sleepy cats after a hard day’s play, keeping their distance from each other but still having a wary eye on what’s going on. Fantastic, too, to see people enjoying the extra daylight – I’ve encountered road cyclists, walkers, runners and on Thursday evening around the massive bulk of Ingleborough, mountain bikers and paragliders. (A strange aircraft with propellors flew low over the top end of Ribblesdale as I drove home on Thursday evening. Even I don’t take pics while driving – so did anyone else capture it?). The top shot I’m calling ‘playing with light’. It shows patchy late evening sunshine over Ribblesdale. Other evening shots are spread throughout the blog.
One of my favourite pastimes is watching other folk work while I laze about doing nowt. I was leaning on a wall one day this week near Austwick, admiring the Dales view; nearby, two chaps were putting up a timber fence around a small thicket. I couldn’t tell what wood was being used but it reminded me of an old country proverb I once included in Countryman magazine www.countrymanmagazine.co.uk when I was editor. It went something like: ‘If you build a fence of elm you can forget it for 20 years. If you build it with oak, you can forget it’. A timely reminder that what we do today affects what we’ll need to do in the future.
It’s been a week for contemplating life hasn’t it? While sitting on a small hill during a short spell of sunshine in the Dales on Friday evening I watched several sheep wandering aimlessly around a field. Which one was leading the gang was hard to fathom; maybe they all believed the one with the dodgy hairdo, or the one with the loudest baa as they intimated that the grass was greener through the open gate. The ewes didn’t question the leaders and led their young into the unknown, never thinking the leaders could be telling lies or just having their own interests at heart. They didn’t seem to have a plan as to what to do once through the gate – I do hope there wasn’t a cunning fox waiting for them all on the other side. I didn’t hang around to see.
Doggy do in the Dales
Now that it seems we officially exist in an intolerant society I feel happier about having a moan about certain dog owners. I’m sick of finding these bags of dog crap all over the Dales, at the sides of paths or jammed into drystone walls. I’m sure I’ve seen a lot more crap about since we voted to come out of Europe (that’s a lie, by the way, but it seems lying is acceptable nowadays, too).
This sign near Penyghent Farm on the wonderful Stainforth to Halton Gill road, says: ‘The Countryside Stewardship Scheme – Part funded by the European Communities’. I wonder if there’ll be a sign here in future saying ‘Left to rot after England turned its back on the European Communities and went bankrupt’?
At the moment I, along with many experts (whom I listen to and believe, Mr Gove), don’t feel very optimistic about what will happen to our countryside or local wildlife and heritage projects once the exit from Europe kicks in. During the referendum campaign leave leaders either lied through their back teeth or genuinely just guessed when asked about what would happen to the countryside after leaving. Currently I can’t see where money will come from given the predictions of economic gloom, yet I’ll bet that pet vanity projects like HS2, which revolve around London and which will rip up the countryside for no good reason, will somehow survive.
I have a habit of saying stuff that shows my age. This week I said to a youngster (someone under 30), ‘What’s the recipe today, Jim?’ – a phrase which anyone over 60 will probably recognise from radio of the past, but to which the person listening to me responded quizzically by saying that she was not called Jim.
I was very pleased to see the initial plans for The Folly in Settle on Monday. It’s vital that this unique building is kept in good order, is utilised by the community and helps attracts visitors to the Dales town. The Folly’s development will help boost the local economy and provide another welcome focal point. All they’ll need to make the plans come true is some funding … oh, wait a minute though.
I’m pleased to see that from tomorrow (27 June) train services on the Settle-Carlisle line are to be extended to run as far north as Armathwaite instead of the current terminus of Appleby. The existing train times between Leeds and Appleby will continue with revised timings for journeys between Appleby and Armathwaite. There will be a number of changes to the bus connections so passengers should check the updated timetable before travel. www.settle–carlisle.co.uk/ Remember, the original purpose of building the line was to access Scotland – this could be handy in the future if there’s an exodus from England to Scotland – let’s hope that repair work on the track north of Armathwaite is completed before the Scots shut the border.
(Don’t worry, friends and family who voted to leave – my bitterness will eventually subside. And I understand clearly that besides the racists and far right who want to take over the country as a dictatorship, there were other factions adding support to the leave campaign – such as disenchanted people wanting to teach Cameron & Osborne a lesson; those who think they are being told what to do by Jonny Foreigner and don’t like it; and people who think the EU is a useless bureaucratic mess and want out. Unfortunately, when all that support was added together, the combined vote was claimed as a victory by a bunch of hapless liars and bigots who don’t want to understand the bigger picture.)
I’m out and about in Ribblesdale again. Even though I’m not capable of any decent walking yet, I’ve been able to drive round my ‘patch’ a bit more this week. Monday proved to be a surprising day of great contrasts in the Ribblesdale area. Late afternoon I set off on the old road from Settle towards Bentham before turning up to the wild moors of Clapham Common. I wasn’t hopeful of many long-range landscape shots because of distant mist but the bright yellow gorse proved useful along the way.
There was a bit more clarity as I climbed up the Slaidburn road to the grouse-shooting butts near Bowland Knotts. The Three Peaks dominate the northern landscape as you look back across Wenningdale. I tried some hand-held zoom shots and achieved some surprisingly decent results. Note to self: go back here with tripod on a clearer day. The top shot in the blog is of Ribblesdale to Penyghent and one of my all-time favourite views.
Ingleborough and Whernside seen from Clapham Common
Later I took minor roads back to Ingleton and over to Ribblehead where the shadows were strong. Chapel-le-Dale was moody, with just the top of Ingleborough lit up and the viaduct looking shady. Always on the look-out for new ways to shoot the magnificent structure, I reckoned this one might make a change to the norm…
The evening drive back home down Ribblesdale brought some of the most intense light I’d seen all day. I just had to take some stock shots around Horton-in-Ribblesdale. Here’s just a couple.
The previous day I was annoyed at having to turn down an invitation to a book launch at York’s National Railway Museum, so I was determined to try get my sciatica-troubled left leg into shape. About a quarter of a mile up a local track, with no shots in the camera, the leg collapsed and I ended on my knees. Embarrassed and frustrated I turned round and hobbled home. A friend’s suggestion that I could borrow his mother-in-law’s zimmer wasn’t appreciated.
The book I mention is for children and is the third in a series about The Cones, written by Chris Madeley. Her husband Keith, the indomitable ‘Mr Yorkshire’ www.mryorkshire.com provided this photo. Keith tells me he is busy (amongst 1001 other things) being filmed for a ‘Mr Yorkshire’ TV documentary. See more details of the book on my reviews page
Welcome addition to the Dales park
A while back I was a little disappointed that the lovely town of Kirkby Lonsdale wasn’t corralled into the revised Yorkshire Dales National Park. Mustn’t be greedy I suppose. However, most of the landscape seen from the town’s famous ‘Ruskin’s View’ (above), features the Dales side of the river Lune which will lie within the new border. Kirkby’s St Mary’s church – originally Norman but altered and extended greatly down the centuries – and its grounds, which contain a wildlife haven, are a must-see. Other interesting buildings and alleyways abound and there are some lovely shops, pubs and hotels. I’m starting to sound like a tourist guide, sorry, but I do recommend a visit even though it is just beyond the Yorkshire border – no passports required. Conditions weren’t brilliant when I visited this week.
Seeing photos of bluebells and wild garlic on tinterweb over the last few days has made me long even more to get out and wander around the local woods in Ribblesdale. This time last year I was walking from Malham to Gordale and witnessing this glorious sight beside Malham Beck near Janet’s Foss. Wait for me, please!
The car’s air conditioning was useful for all the driving I’ve done this week. But it’s not a modern luxury, as I discovered near Clapham…
Many years ago I had the pleasure of a brief meeting with Yorkshire woman Hannah Hauxwell, just long enough to realise what a genuinely lovely, down-to-earth lady she is. I also remember having tea and biscuits with former Dalesman Bill Mitchell and his wife Freda at their home in Giggleswick while they chatted enthusiastically about their trips to Baldersdale to visit Hannah at her home, Low Birk Hatt Farm.
I see this week that the farm, bought from Hannah in 1988, is now up for sale again. In Hannah’s day the house was cold and damp with no running water. Her comfortless existence had millions of viewers engrossed through a series of Yorkshire TV documentaries.
While editing Dalesman I wrote a piece about the Durham Wildlife Trust creating Hannah’s Meadow nature reserve (http://www.durhamwt.com/reserves/dwt-reserves-list/hannahs-meadow-nature-reserve/) on part of the land she farmed. I visited the meadow and walked around Baldersdale – and yes, it is in Yorkshire, just on our side of the Tees. In reality, Hannah wasn’t as isolated as the documentaries made out – but hey, we’re talking TV here – with a few scattered farms just a short walk from her house, but I can still imagine how lonely and desolate it must have felt during harsh winters. At the top of the page is a photo I took at the time, looking over the reservoir – Hannah’s smallholding – which will cost £590k if you’re interested – is on the left. www.robinjessop.co.uk
One for the family album – I saw this couple on my short walk on Monday. I’ve not got out much this week due to a back problem. Goodness knows how I strained it – vacuuming is about the most strenuous thing I do nowadays (so, obviously, I’ve stopped doing that particular chore for the moment and even the cat is complaining about all the pet hairs).
Handy foreground – Whernside on the left, Ribblehead Viaduct to the right of the tree
There are some very nice blog-readers and other people who follow my facebook and twitter posts who say how much they enjoy my photos and suggest I should put them in a calendar. Having spent more years than I care to remember during my working life sifting through thousands of photos and producing calendars I can say with certainty this is not something I will be rushing into. There is very little, if any, financial reward in producing or contributing to calendars. And considering the time photographers have to spend waiting for the right conditions, traveling to the best spots after buying very expensive equipment, most of them will barely meet ‘living wage’ standards.
I’ve heard about several companies and organisations who ask the public to send in their photos for inclusion in calendars, some of which are intended to raise money for charity – and good luck to them. Most amateur photographers won’t worry about there not being any payment, and will be happy just to see their snaps and name in print. However, I do urge folk to look at the small print before submitting anything. You may well find that you are agreeing to the use of your work by these organisations (and any parent companies) whenever, wherever and for as long as they want without it costing them a penny. You may happy for your local church or a charity you care about to do this, but will you feel the same if a large corporation takes advantage of your precious work to further their own profit-making enterprises? If that also doesn’t bother you, then think about all those professional photographers struggling to earn a living because companies are getting all those photos for nowt!
Moody Ingleborough seen from the ancient settlement
Countless times I’ve seen on maps and driven by – and even walked close to – an ancient Yorkshire settlement which once existed on a limestone plateau on the eastern side of Chapel-le-Dale between Ribblehead Viaduct and Ingleborough. So this week I veered off the main path to take a look. You can’t see much of the settlement itself, and the interesting bits are fenced off and overgrown, the evidence of ancients lying tantalisingly under the soil. But you can certainly get a feel for the place. It’s protected by Nature to the east and has the advantage of good views in all other directions so that any invaders could be quickly detected. All kinds of trees have sprung up in unlikely places amongst the limestone, and oddly-shaped boulders add to the sense ofother-wordlyness – and provide some great foregrounds for photos of Whernside, Ingleborough, Twisleton and Ribblehead.
Yorkshire gold
On a short drive one day, the Yorkshire Dales National Park sign caught my eye near Austwick – pure gold, you could say. Further down the Lawkland road I thought this ivy-clad tree would make an interesting black-and-white shot.
Settle is currently being trimmed up in preparation for the big Tour de Yorkshire bike event which comes to town on the 29th (http://www.visitsettle.co.uk). Even some of our roads have been resurfaced – is that just a coincidence?
One grey day this week I motored up Ribblesdale and stopped off at St Leonard’s in Chapel-le-Dale. I’d made a mental note to return to see the snowdrops in the churchyard and on neighbouring land. Snowdrops here are usually a little behind those elsewhere but my timing was perfect. The beck had totally disappeared underground, and the moss-covered limestone and walls hereabouts created an other-worldly feel.
The little chapel’s entrance faces mighty Ingleborough as if in defiance. Its graveyard spills over into nearby land having had to cope with the deaths of more 200 souls who worked on Ribblehead Viaduct between 1869-76. The building mostly dates to the late 17th century although some parts are older. A chapel of ease (built for the local community who found it difficult to travel the eight miles or so to Bentham) is recorded as being here from the late 16th century. There are 18th century alterations and it was restored in 1869. The chapel wasn’t know as St Leonard’s until the 1940s.
I took the narrow former Roman road down into Ingleton. You hope not to meet anything large coming the other way. Alas… living in the Dales you get used to reversing a quarter of a mile. There are very few places to stop and admire the scenery and interesting topography but I recommend a walk along this part of the dale and on nearby footpaths which run alongside Twisleton Scar. Ingleborough always looks impressive from this angle. Good to see the tea van back at at Ribblehead. I only live a few minutes down Ribblesdale but always enjoy a cuppa while staring at the Three Peaks.
Ribblesdale lambs
On Sunday I was still celebrating Huddersfield Town’s 4-1 mauling of Leeds United the previous day. All I captured on a short walk on a grey day were some lambs. The internet is a funny old world. Some people say it reflects the real world – I don’t, but that’s a discussion for a late night when too much booze has been drunk. Sometimes I post what I consider to be a stunning landscape photo on Twitter or a Facebook group and it creates a ripple of appreciation. This week I offered a simple, quickly snapped photo of a lamb with its mother and it prompted a tsunami of responses. Hundreds of internetters leapt for their like buttons and emojis and exclamation marks. They wrote gooey sentiments or humorous lines about mint sauce. I had to turn off the pinging alert on the computer. When I edited magazines I learned that the number one rule is to give the readers what they want – not what you, the editor, wants. If you don’t supply the right material then your regular readers will not continue to buy the magazine. I don’t have to satisfy accountants or directors now, however. I can post whatever I want (if the internet masters deem it appropriate) and if viewers don’t like what I post they can just move on. Not everyone feels able to move on quietly; some have an urge to voice their opinion no matter how crass, petty or vindictive it makes them sound. So, in the hope of satisfying my readers, here is a brief collection of lamb pictures. Coo away…
I was in Harrogate on Monday for the funeral of my sister’s husband Frank who was a lovely man and will be sorely missed by all the family. Everything went well apart from dreadful traffic all around the town. Will Harrogate’s road problem ever be sorted I wonder. Billions is to be wasted on shaving a few minutes off train journeys to London through High Speed rail, when for far less money local rail services could be improved easily to entice more people off the roads. I heard later in the week that the X75 bus service between Skipton and Harrogate has been halted because accountants say it is no longer viable, mainly due to government subsidy cuts. Once again the elderly, the young and the lower paid will be the ones to suffer most of all, while motorists continue to pollute and clog up the roads. Harrogate came out tops in the north-east section Sunday Times Best Places To Live guide (call me cynical if you like, but maybe it came out tops because more people read the Sunday Times in Harrogate than, say, Cleckheaton?). Anyhow, road congestion apart, it is a lovely place (so is Cleckheaton) – the flower displays were fabulous and weeks ahead of those in my part of the world in the Dales.
The cat and I both felt a little down about not being able to get outside due to some miserable midweek weather in Ribblesdale.
The weather picked up eventually and I got away from the Good Friday crowds with a morning stroll around the Eldroth area. The name Eldroth conjours up a sense of the Gothic – but it actually means ‘alder hill’ from Norse words elri + hofuth. It was recorded as Ellerhowyth in 1383. Here, west of the Craven fault line the millstone grit takes over from limestone. Rolling drumlins hide dozens of farms from view. Ancient paths and tracks join them all together like veins, criss-crossing the landscape in all directions. Farmstead names tell their own stories… Rigghead, Black Bank, Ravenshaw, Butterfield Gap, Howith and Accerhill Hall are just a few. I pass through King’s Gate to a hidden trig point at a height of just 207m.
For sale
There’s an old quarry near Eldroth where an abandoned vehicle of some kind is parked far from the nearest road. FOR SALE: one careful owner. Genuine mileage. Needs some minor attention.
Blimey, a quarter of the year’s gone already. Ribblesdale, and especially Settle, is gearing up (pardon the pun, given the impending cycle race) for a very busy season. http://www.visitsettle.co.uk/whats-on.html has details, as do several other sites.
Funny how we take everyday things for granted. Postboxes for example. On my regular Ribblesdale stroll this week I noticed snowdrops growing by a postbox — and have to admit that until I’d seen both snowdrops and postbox together I’d not taken much notice of that bright red metal thing. It got me thinking about other postboxes around the Dales. I hunted through my photo archive for some more examples … and found these in Chapel-le-dale, Langstrothdale (above) and Mallerstang.
If you know of any postboxes in picturesque Dales locations let me know – I might do a bit of ‘collecting’ myself. Apparently there is such a thing as the Letter Box Study Group www.lbsg.org with a website and more than 600 members. I shan’t be joining, but surely taking photos of postboxes is more acceptable than searching the country to capture gas holders? I read this week about one chap who has this as a hobby. His pastime came to the notice of the newspapers when it was decided that the famous gas holder beside the Oval cricket ground in London (yes, non-cricket fans, it really is famous) is to be saved from demolition because it is seen as some kind of icon. Historic England adds: ‘…but our other beautiful gas holders are going’ [to be demolished]. Beautiful? Come on! Seems it is acceptable to churn up hundreds of miles of priceless countryside for the pointless HS2 railway, and to allow our green and pleasant land to be fracked up to kingdom come, but not to knock down a rusting, useless gas holder? It’s a mad, mad world.
Ribblesdale sunsets
Took my first sunset shots of the year last Sunday up on Winskill Stones in Ribblesdale. The late evening sunshine lit up the limestone and also the distant western side of Penyghent. The last few minutes before the sun disappeared over Lancashire provided some startlingly vivid colours.
The following time-lapse shots are a bit arty-farty for me, I know, but I display them only to show the speed of the water at Stainforth Foss on Tuesday following heavy overnight and morning rain in Ribblesdale. The shutter speed is set at just one-fifth of a second which tells you much about the volume and speed of the water passing in front of my camera lens. If you’d like to join me for a couple of minutes at the popular spot you can see a video here https://youtu.be/Agba6D6Txvg Excuse the quality — it’s taken on my normal camera not a video camera, and I was being buffeted by a strong wind.
After the rain came Wednesday’s snow. The village (Langcliffe) took on a different persona — cosier, somehow. The photo of St John’s church (above) looks like a black-and-white, but it isn’t. And despite seeing them a thousand times before, I just had to take a trip further up Ribblesdale to see how the Three Peaks were looking in the snow – and they didn’t disappoint.
This week I’ve had to endure one of life’s greatest hardships. It’s not been easy for me, especially living on my own. Having no kids or partner around to help out has been a total nightmare. Yes, the TV remote broke. Getting up to manually change channels or just to turn the damn thing on and off has left me exhausted and frustrated. Must be the batteries (the remote’s, not mine) I thought, so off I trotted in the snow in search of power. Alas, new batteries didn’t solve the problem. So, another trip to town for a replacement zapper — no one had anything suitable for my TV. Amazon it was then. Three days delivery they said. Aargh! Just how did folk manage before remote controllers?
Regular readers will know of my fondness for the deserted Ribblesdale hamlet of Thorns (pictured above), just a mile or so from Ribblehead Viaduct. Thorns was an important location on a former packhorse route. Records of the settlement I often visit for quiet contemplation, date back to 1190, when it belonged to Furness Abbey. Wills, parish records and censuses indicate that there were five tenements in 1538, three households in 1841, and one uninhabited dwelling in 1891. Those stats are courtesy of the charity Yorkshire Dales Millennium Trust (YDMT) which this week announced it was looking for budding archaeologists to take part in an archaeological survey of Thorns. Visit the website www.ydmt.org for more information.
Yesterday was my birthday. It’s the 63rd time this as occurred so I’m used to birthdays and I don’t take much notice of them now. However, I must admit I was a bit taken aback when I read that a birthday flypast tribute by the Red Arrows had been arranged. How pleasing too that my big day was also the 80th birthday of the Spitfire and I could share my special display with that great invention.
Ribble Rant
The village school closed back in 2007. It was sold six years later for £230,000 and remains unoccupied, the new owners’ plans being refused permission by the National Park. I’ve often wondered who pocketed the money and what was done with it. What I do know for certain is that some accountant somewhere declared that the school as an education establishment was ‘economically unviable’ and shut it down. Its closure certainly wouldn’t have been decided by locals or teaching staff. Village schools help keep dales communities together – but that’s not something an accountant working on behalf of government can quantify in monetary terms so it is ignored.
I know a lot of teachers – or more precisely ex-teachers (many of them jumping ship as soon as their pensions would allow them to do so) – and I’m probably more sympathetic to the plight of teachers and how the education system is being run than a lot of the general public. I attended teacher training college before finding an opening in journalism and I was married to a teacher for many years. So I’ve kept an eye on education matters – as we all should, really … after all, this is the country’s and our children’s/grandchildren’s future we’re talking about.
The problems and solutions are far too numerous and complex for me to go into in depth here. But I will say that I wish politicians would just leave alone something about which they know and understand very little. Many of them attended expensive private schools which bear no co-relation with the education of the masses. Most have no idea about the everyday life of teaching a class or running a school, yet ministers (and accountants) decide the rules and regulations by which our children are educated. I have the feeling that government would prefer if teachers just brainwashed children so that they don’t have any individual thoughts, or think creatively or question their elders.
One of my singer/songwriter heroes is Tom Paxton, and this week I listened again to one of his songs from the 1960s, called ‘What did you learn in school today, dear little boy of mine?’. The verses, although based on the USA at the time, could well ring true today in this country and elsewhere. Here are some of the words which his little boy said in response to the question:
…
I learned that Washington never told a lie.
I learned that soldiers seldom die.
I learned that everybody’s free.
And that’s what the teacher said to me.
…
I learned that policemen are my friends.
I learned that justice never ends.
I learned that murderers die for their crimes.
Even if we make a mistake sometimes.
…
I learned our government must be strong.
It’s always right and never wrong.
Our leaders are the finest men.
And we elect them again and again.
…
I learned that war is not so bad.
I learned of the great ones we have had.
We fought in Germany and in France.
And some day I might get my chance.
Ribblesdale calls me… having been tied up with other matters, and also due to yet more poor weather, I’ve not been able to take the camera for a walk much this week. But on Tuesday I wrapped up well for a trip to the head of the dale. The Three Peaks were all hidden under their cloud-caps, but the sun did make a brief appearance to light up Chapel-le-Dale. Ribblehead viaduct looked majestic against the backcloth of an ever-changing, moody sky. It would have made the perfect setting for a TV drama … (I didn’t see it – some folk tell me I didn’t miss much).
Hidden Whernside
Doing the Boot-Boots Hop
While I was parked at Ribblehead, scoffing the chocolates I’d stuffed in my pocket from a seemingly endless bag received at Christmas, I laughed to myself as I watched a couple who had parked next to me doing the Boot-Boots Hop. That’s the name I give to that silly little dance attempted by walkers who open the boot of their car and try to don their walking boots. We’ve all done it: hopping, balancing, gripping on to our walking partner or to some section of car so as not to get wet feet or pick up grit under your socks (which becomes a constant nightmare as you walk – do you, like me, shake your foot about like someone with a nervous tick to try shift that tiny annoying piece of grit until finally, half an hour later, give in and take off your boot to eject the blithering thing?). Worse still, the Boot-Boots Hopper slips down the slope because when they backed into the parking spot they ended up too close to a ditch. I hope the couple didn’t see me smirking.
Bridge over the Thames
You might, like me, not be too interested in what Boris and his cronies are up to in London. Well, while we in the north are struggling to get round the place because of damaged and collapsing bridges due to flooding, in the capital they’re well on with planning the ‘London Garden Bridge’. This will be a pleasant not-so-little bridge spanning the Thames, dressed up like something from Chelsea Flower Show. The website https://www.gardenbridge.london states it will cost £175m to deliver the project. Around 65% of the capital costs to build the bridge will be fundraised from the private sector. More than £145 million has been pledged already and there is a business plan to cover the £2 million annual maintenance and operations costs. Transport for London and the Government have together contributed £60 million in total. It’s unbelievable that more than £200m can be whipped up for such a vanity project.
This is a Yorkshire bridge over the Thames in Giggleswick – before anyone writes in and says this is the Tems, not the Thames, I direct you to early Ordnance Survey maps which clearly states the latter spelling. Perhaps someone in London later thought Giggleswick was getting a bit too big for its boots and ordered a spelling change.
I bought a small pamphlet/book about Giggleswick from those doyens of Ribblesdale history, Phil and Rita Hudson of Settle – a very interesting guide to the ancient township. It contains a walk around the village and details of some fascinating architectural features. On Wednesday I did the walk and added an extra mile or so. On this view of Settle’s situation in Ribblesdale you can see the rooftops of the houses sitting snugly beneath the massive limestone scars, with Castleberg Rock in the middle right. The school chapel, which took four years to build and was opened in 1901, dominates Giggleswick’s skyline from many a different angle.
On Friday, snow hit Ribblesdale from Selside northwards and on higher ground. Penyghent was shrouded in cloud for most of the day but I just grabbed this shot from Winskill Stones in the late afternoon as it briefly emerged:
Ribblesdale immigration issues
A few years ago, for an article I was writing about family history, I had my DNA tested. Turns out I’m descended from an immigrant, probably from somewhere in Scandinavia. I have a ‘mutation’ (I know, you already thought that) in my genes which developed thousands of years ago and is found mainly in people from Denmark and in Sweden at frequencies above 30% of the population in those countries. In England this mutation is found in 15% of the population and is most prevalent in northerners. It is possible that my lot hired a longboat about 1600 years ago, and on seeing Yorkshire thought ‘that’ll do’ and decided to set up home here. I drift down this line of thought after being challenged by a Wensleydale chap last week who on hearing me speak said, “Tha’s net fro’ rahnd ’ere, es ta?”
I told him I was born in the Heavy Woollen district of Yorkshire but had lived most of my life around the Craven and Ribblesdale areas. “Thowt so,” he said dismissively. I felt a bit miffed – is Yorkshire such a big place, I thought, that I’m considered a foreigner in my own back yard? I now wonder whether had I told him my male line in Yorkshire goes back to at least 400AD, and perhaps earlier, that he would have been more accepting? Anyway, I bet he was descended from some marauding Scot.
Footnote: when I scribbled a couple of weeks ago about the poor quality of country and wildlife TV programmes, I most certainly wasn’t including anything by David Attenborough. Watching in wonder and listening to the 89-year-old talk with such authority in his Great Barrier Reef series this week reminded me of how spoilt people of my age are to have grown up with such a wonderful ‘teacher’ and presenter.
After last week’s regular Sunday stroll by the Ribble under Stainforth Scar I stayed out a bit later than normal to watch the sun go down. Golden light settled briefly on the Scar, while Penyghent looked cooler in the distance with snow still lying in the shade. The late sun shining through the trees above Langcliffe stopped me in my tracks. No filters or Photoshop shenanigans on these shots, just the ‘sunset’ setting on my camera.
Around 40 years ago I posed for this photo at Ribblehead (taken by my friend Graham Hobson). The signpost was replaced with a bland version many years ago – probably due to idiots climbing up the old one. The photo serves to remind me just how long I’ve been visiting this enigmatic area. I’m always finding something different or interesting here – long may it continue. I was there again on Wednesday, taking a boggy trek around the Limestone Walk on Ingleborough Nature Reserve in Chapel-le-Dale. There were still some icy patches along the path where the sun hadn’t reached, and flecks of snow were still visible on Whernside.
Along this route you can hear water rushing into and through the limestone caverns beneath your feet. There’s a great network of caves and pot holes around here, and the path, going clockwise, passes Great Douk Cave then later, joining the main path up to Ingleborough, goes by the amazing sinkhole of Braithwaite Wife Hole – partly pictured below. It’s around 80ft deep and knocking on 200ft wide. I’d be interested to know how it got the name – there are a few sink holes named after wives in the Dales. Legend has it that the ladies were chucked down the giant pits after some misdemeanour. But if that were the case you’d think there’d be even more of them named after men.
It’s sad to see old farm buildings in a dilapidated state – like this one at Southerscales in Chapel-le-Dale. But I suppose it is all part of the evolution of the Dales. Less than a mile away on one of the limestone ridges between Ingleborough and Ribblehead are the remains of an ancient settlement, dating back thousands of years. In this part of the Dales humans have come and gone since prehistoric times and evidence of ancient walls can be found all around…
Making a living on this boggy land has always been extremely difficult. Shaded by Ingleborough, Simon Fell and Park Fell, there is little direct sunlight during winter. Hardy farmers still try to eke out a living here…
I took some fine photos of Chapel-le-Dale along the route, which I’ve already posted on Facebook and Twitter this week, showing Twisleton Scar, Whernside and Ribblehead Viaduct. Here’s a different one, looking down on the small settlement around the Chapel Inn.
As Black Friday turned into Grey Saturday there were few photographic bargains to be had in the dales for me, but one of my neighbours, Mark Corner, emailed me this photo taken on Giggleswick Scar. Myths and legends surround these ‘fairy circles’, and here Mark’s lovely dog Oscar looks like a worthy king of the elves.
The dales donned winter clothes this week. Autumn hues hung around the route of the River Ribble while higher up, snow clung to the hillsides. The Three Peaks all dressed differently on the day I drove round the trio. Penyghent (above) caught a bit of sun and looked streaky and cold, yet inviting. Whernside looked settled and serene, the peak playing peek-a-boo through the clouds. Ingleborough seemed more angry about the whole affair, wrestling with the clouds. I felt an icy reception as I trampled around its foothills looking for a decent photo. We’re not really in winter yet but days like this remind walkers that the dales demand respect at all times.
Regular followers will know I’ve taken many photos of Drybeck Farm here in Ribblesdale. I was pleased to receive this week a calendar produced by Agrii which features one such picture of mine. Proceeds from the calendar go to farming charities.
