Ingleborough Archives - Page 4 of 11 - Scribble by the Ribble

Two falls and a submission in the Dales

The blog (+12 pics) title refers to a Dales walk I did on Monday. Many locals will know the 5-mile circuit from Langcliffe in Ribblesdale. Starting from the village head down to the mill and around the mill pond to cross the Ribble at Langcliffe Locks. Follow the river up to Stainforth Foss, over the packhorse bridge and up into Stainforth. Take the road by the church up to the stepping stones over the beck, then up the steep track to Catrigg Force (the submission part is where you wrestle with the path and have to stop several times for a large breather and take a photo). From the falls head up to Winskill then take the path down the Langcliffe side of Stainforth Scar back to the village, enjoying the fabulous views down Ribblesdale. Sadly, Langcliffe no longer has a pub to round off the walk properly but if you do the route on a summer Sunday there’s usually yummie tea and cakes available at the Village Institute (2-4pm). Above and below are a few pics along the journey.

Friends of the Dales is the new brand name of the Yorkshire Dales Society the only registered membership charity campaigning for, protecting and enjoying the Dales. I renewed my membership this week – why not help keep the Dales special and vibrant for years to come? Visit https://www.friendsofthedales.org.uk

On a brief respite from rain I took a short walk around the tiny settlement of Keasden, near Clapham. Quiet roads and barely visible paths across fields and through woods make it ideal for exploration. Centuries ago this would have been a busier place but now there are just a few farms and a church – St Matthew’s. Keasden’s name stems from old words for ‘cheese valley’ – I wonder if there is an old recipe for original Keasden cheese lurking around somewhere. There’s a thought for some local cheesemonger and marketing whizz to latch on to…

On Friday, not for the first time this year, the electric was off in the village, and it was chucking it down so I didn’t fancy another walk. I looked around the house for something to read – nothing new so off I set for Sedbergh and a mooch around the bookshops. Now I’m proud owner of a first edition (1956) copy of The Yorkshire Dales by Marie Hartley and Joan Ingilby. I already have some of their books and I just turned the first few pages when the power came back on. I like the pair’s fussiness and little personal asides which offer a glimpse of their upbringing and lives in the post-war Dales. Their observations of Dales life are always backed up with detailed research; they have an authoritative writing style which seems to proclaim ‘we are always right in what we say’! I also love Hartley’s sketches and woodcuts.

I travel by train as often as I can but it’s not always easy. Settle is my nearest station, so invariably I have to travel via Leeds (even if my destination is in the other direction, such as Manchester). Leeds is an hour away, trains are infrequent and the last one back to Settle leaves Leeds at 19.19 (17.41 on Sundays). I’ve been on Settle-Leeds trains when passengers have had to stand the whole journey, and often at Leeds station there is a rugby scrum of people trying to board the service. So it is with increasing dismay I see the predicted costs for the new HS2 spiralling out of control. The first phase alone (London to Brum) started at £32bn, then it went to £56bn while latest figures from DfT suggest the cost will double. There’s absolutely no justification in spending so much money when there are far greater priorities in this country. This folly will wreck so much countryside and ruin so many people’s home lives. Spending £100bn+ to knock half an hour off the journeys of those who will be able to afford a ticket is scandalous. HS2 symbolises a country run against the interests of the many and in the interests of the few. Far less could be spent on creating better local services, restoring old lines and adding to the current ‘low speed’ (apparently 125mph isn’t fast enough) rail network over the next decade. Maybe we should have a referendum on it … oh wait a minute, they don’t work do they. Or how about just letting politicians do whatever they want and have their rich friends pick up all the lucrative contracts, and sod the consequences?

Harking back to a bygone era – steam engines heading along Ribblesdale this week

I see that a video of the beck rising in Kingsdale has ‘gone viral’ this week (I also saw on tinternet that the Daily Bile (Mail) described the water’s steady progress as a ‘torrent’- apparently people actually buy this disgraceful excuse for a newspaper). The sudden rise of Dales streams isn’t uncommon. I remember seeing similar happening in neighbouring Chapel-le-Dale. You can witness the Skirfare suddenly appear in Littondale when rain soaks the surrounding hills. Also, near Cowgill at the top of Dentdale the dry bare rocks on the bed of the River Dee can instantly turn into cascades. Still a cracking video though – gotta love the Dales.

Why life’s just hell in the Dales (12 pics)

My old milk-bottle legs got an airing in the sunny Dales yesterday. Shorts were donned for a walk around Warrendale Knotts just up the hill from home in Langcliffe. From the top of any of the limestone knolls you can enjoy great views east and west. The mighty scars here are as impressive as any along the Craven Fault, and the limestone Dales landscape contrasts greatly from the neighbouring gritstone area where Black Hill and Rye Loaf Hill loom darkly. In the west, Ingleborough and Penyghent look down on Ribblesdale. Top photo shows Attermire Scar with Black Hill and Rye Loaf Hill in the background.

Off to Hell

Earlier in the week I drove through the Dales to the Mallerstang area, captured a steam train crossing Dandry Mire viaduct and took a trip to Hell. Well, Hellgill Force, to be precise. Sometimes this waterfall can be nobbut a trickle while other times it’s a truly spectacular sight when water cascades down from the steep fells. Hell Gill forms the boundary between Yorkshire and Westmorland and is where the water chooses which way to head to the coast – either west along the Lune and Eden route, or east and on to the North Sea via the Ure. This ‘Hell’ has nothing to do with that devil chap, in case you were wondering – the name stems from an Old Norse word ‘hella’, meaning flat stone.

Back in the Dales with a smile on my face

After only two days in London what a relief it is to be back in the Dales. Here in Ribblesdale the air is fresh, the views are mainly natural, and the people smile and say hello. I know all that sounds clichéd, but it really is true. However, it was an absolute delight to see first-hand at Wembley my beloved Huddersfield Town reach the Premier League, nerve-racking as the occasion was. Now my club will dine at the top table and enjoy what rich pickings they can – for at least a season. My allegiance to the Terriers came about because my dad – and his dad – supported them during the club’s heyday. My brother and I had no option but to follow suit, even though we both moved away from our Heavy Woollen birthplace when were were young.

Back on the moors

To watch Town’s home games I have a round trip of just under 100 miles, and often I’ll use the journey to visit one of my favourite parts of Yorkshire – the Pennine Moors above Holmfirth, Saddleworth Moor and parts of the Dark Peak. Here is some of the bleakest moorland in the country. I love the drama but I could never live in such isolation. Last week I walked a short section of the Pennine Way at Wessenden and shuddered at the thought of being stranded in one of the lonely farms or water board houses by the reservoirs during a dark night.

On another day I was again on the edge of the Yorkshire Dales, this time by the River Lune boundary at Kirkby Lonsdale. The contrast from Wessenden couldn’t have been greater. Lush farmed landscape, beautiful cottages, winding river … and lots of tourists. I took the usual shots of Ruskin’s View and river but also some of the buildings, especially around the church, also took my fancy …

Back in the dales

Looking for a flattish walk, I strolled down Chapel-le-Dale along the old Roman Road from St Leonard’s Church (pictured below) towards Ingleton. Along here you find angles of Ingleborough unseen from the main road (also shown in top pic in blog).

Back in Ribblesdale

And finally…

‘Having five minutes’ in the Yorkshire Dales

In the Yorkshire Dales there are lots of places where you can ‘have five minutes’. I used to get so frustrated as a youngster when my parents wanted to ‘have five minutes’. This usually meant stopping something interesting or exciting and doing nothing other than having a cuppa and sitting still. Boring. Nowadays in my ancient state I love ‘having five minutes’, sitting on some rocky outcrop and staring at the Dales landscape, watching the clouds pass by and listening to the birds. As in the past, the five minutes often become ten and more. Just a short walk from home, above Winskill Nature Reserve, is a favourite place of mine for ‘having five minutes’. From here you can see the Three Peaks and Fountains Fell, look up, down and across Ribblesdale. To the south west is Warrendale Knotts, Attermire Scar and the Bowland Fells. By your feet the limestone pavement shelters beautiful tiny plants and insects typical of the Yorkshire Dales … a big, wide world and another miniature one side by side. Top photo: a good spot for ‘having five minutes’ – at the head of Barbondale where the Howgills and Dentdale add to a spectacular view.

Mallerstang in May – and a lamb doing aerobics by Pendragon Castle.

16 new Dales photos to view

Every now and then I do something daring – like stepping outside of the Dales and dipping a toe into Lancashire. Hidden deep in the family’s ancestry I found someone called Dilworth, and I wondered where the surname came from. The earliest bearers of the surname sprang from a tiny place called Dilworth just over the Lancashire border near Longridge. The branch I am interested in was recorded during the 1700s at Slaidburn’s St Andrew’s church (pictured below), which is on the correct side of the border (this part of Yorkshire was lent to Lancashire in 1974 for administrative purposes). It’s a grand old church in a lovely spot – a fine resting place for some of the family’s forebears to keep an eye on the Lancastrians. I’ve been tracing our family history on and off for decades now and recently I had one of those Ancestry.com DNA tests done. My basic DNA breakdown shows I’m 62 per cent British, 28 per cent western European and 10 per cent other ethnicity. My British community group is Northern English. Nothing very surprising there then.

That wasn’t the only time I skipped over the border this week. I needed the passport again while doing a little errand for someone near Brough, in Westmorland. I couldn’t resist a visit to the castle (it’s free, so why not?) for a couple of photos…

I returned through the Dales via Tan Hill pub which looked forlorn on the bleak expansive moorland. There were three large military vehicles parked at the pub which made me wonder if they were expecting some further border raids. tanhillinn.com

The clouds were dark above Tan Hill unlike in Ribblesdale. Although clear blue skies brighten up the Dales they don’t always help create interesting photos. I took pictures of the Three Peaks one day and was surprised at the different hue on each one. The wind was biting but without clouds I think the photos lack movement and thus interest. Here are Penyghent, Ingleborough and Whernside on the day.

I also took plenty of shots in and around Langcliffe this week, including the top photo in the blog… and dozens more, a few here…

Bluebells have appeared in Cleatop Park Wood on the outskirts of Settle… and the trees are budding… but the rivers around the Dales are low and some fields looked parched.

More reasons to love the Yorkshire Dales

18 new Dales photos. There are many reasons why I love the Yorkshire Dales – not just the scenery or way of life, or the architecture of the landscape, its people or history. Nature, too … the Dales weather, the animals, flora and fauna. It’s too easy to rush through life with just a passing acknowledgment to what’s around us. Since retiring I’ve seen the world through fresh eyes, slowing down to a gentler pace so I can properly cherish what Nature has to offer. Early one morning this week I set off in bright sunshine for a walk up to Wharfe and Oxenber Woods, above Austwick. I set off from the Helwith Bridge side so I could capture Penyghent and Ingleborough, Moughton Scar and Norber’s boulder fields. I’d envisaged a glorious carpet of bluebells in the woods but they could only be found in small patches. Instead, I was greeted by primroses, cowslips, early purple orchids and a host of other pretty wild flowers whose names I can never remember. How I wish I had a macro lens to capture their delicate detail. Caught up in the beauty at my feet and birdsong from the trees and bushes, I hadn’t realised the Dales sky had turned from blue to very grey and I had to beat a hasty retreat.

All hail the Dales

I avoided rain that day, unlike during a visit earlier in the week to see the limestone pavement and ancient settlements beneath Ingleborough in Chapel-le-Dale. After taking some shots of the pavement, Ribblehead viaduct and a moody-looking Whernside it dawned on me that the big hill was looking a bit grim because it was about to suffer a heavy hailstorm – and the wretched weather was heading my way… quickly. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s not a good idea to sprint (not that I can sprint nowadays anyway) over tufty moorland with camera equipment, so my pace wasn’t sharp enough to avoid the hail stones which pinged my face and other exposed skin all the way back to the car.

Does anyone know how long a Christmas cactus lives? The photo shows a plant I took from my mum’s house when she died 24 years ago – I’m not sure how long she’d looked after it, but it was certainly hanging round her home for a very long time. This one tends to flower around Easter rather than Christmas and seems to thrive on neglect.

Ribblesdale blossoms again

17 photos of Ribblesdale: snowdrops are fading from memory, daffodils are drooping, but blossom is bursting out all over the place. The swallows have returned, their energy lifting my spirits and livening the neighbourhood. Last year they nested under the eaves directly above my door, which meant daily removal of splatterings from the doorstep. The postman needed to be quick. I’m told there’s a possibility of snow next week, but it’s not unusual – snow fell briefly last April too.

The eastern slopes of Ribblesdale, where my village of Langcliffe sits, averages a gradient of about 1 in 7 (my own calculations so don’t quote me – it could be false news) from the River Ribble to the limestone outcrops some 750ft above. This means there aren’t too many flat strolls from home. My heart and lungs were working overtime one day this week as I struggled straight up the hill to the crags above the village. So, plenty of opportunities to stop and look back to admire the views. All Three Peaks can be seen from the crags, as are many of the small settlements scattered along the dale. Up here are several hidden little valleys, small plantations, limestone pavements and signs of ancient farming activity.

Lower down, in a field where lambs were playing in the sunshine, some lazy dog-walker had deposited a plastic bag of dog-poo. I’d only just read about horses being killed by choking on these bags and I wasn’t having any lambs suffering the same fate. The offending article is in my dustbin should anyone wish to claim it. Further up Ribblesdale at Helwith Bridge I watched a coot hen and its chicks venturing in and out of the reeds in the old quarry, while a pair of noisy tewits cavorted overhead. I love Nature at this time of year.

Ribblesdale lambs

One cold, grey day I headed for the top end of Ribblesdale for a quick stroll around part of the Ingleborough Nature Reserve. All Three Peaks didn’t look particularly welcoming, but with politics dominating the TV back home, I’d still rather be struggling up those hills.

More Langcliffe

My war plans for Yorkshire unveiled

When I’m president of the People’s Undemocratic Republic of Yorkshire, and when Lancashire has been converted into my private golf course, I’ll be ordering southerners to build a wall from the Humber to the Mersey. The annexing of the Lake District will have been completed by then. The Geordie Camps, set up along the Tees for north easterners to be taught how to speak properly before being allowed across the border, will be producing a steady flow of workers for the Yorkshire Parkin mines. Yorkshire will not only be a buffer zone between the warring factions of Scotland and London but will also provide sanctuary for poor immigrants from Lincolnshire and East Anglia who have no hills. Should any cocky Cockney pilot try to enter Yorkshire airspace I will launch T’ Mam of all Bombs from the Alan Bennett International Airport, aiming to destroy the set of Eastenders. I aim to allocate more than half a dozen boats from Whitby to patrol the Thames Estuary, a show of force that will act as a deterrent and send a message that Yorkshire’s not to be messed abhat wi’.

As you can see, war has been on my mind. Around the world, scum has been rising to the top of the melting pot. Unhinged despots have been allowed to take charge of countries; selfish, trigger-happy tyrants flexing their muscles without a care for the consequences of their pathetic bravado.

I spent a day at the Yorkshire Air Museum at Elvington near York this week where I was reminded in graphic detail what happened the last time a maniac tried to rule the world. We would all do well to remember that what our eldest generation witnessed here in our country 60+ years ago is actually happening now elsewhere in the world. Will we ever learn?

Yorkshire at its best: top picture and the two here show Giggleswick Scar and Settle on a bright and breezy Saturday evening.

Above, Stainforth Scar and lovely Langcliffe in Ribblesdale this week.

Ingleborough from near Buckhaw Brow as the light fades.

At the other end of the day: Smearsett Scar from Winskill in Ribblesdale just after sunrise.

BREAKING NEWS – Leeds United Airlines statement regarding the man being dragged kicking and screaming from the 8.30am flight from Birmingham Jasper Carrot Airport to the Alan Bennett International Airport: We would like to apologise to all passengers for any disruption caused by the removal by security staff of this man. Contrary to Press reports, the flight was not overbooked – we just didn’t like his accent.

See life and death beside the river

I usually head north for my regular ramble by the Ribble (click link for 11 new Dales photos) but in a week when I’ve been pushed for time I headed for a short walk in the opposite direction. The sun sparkled across the river as I walked beside it from the waterfall at Kings Mill in Settle to the bypass. The Ribble is wide and shallow here but the ‘high tide’ marks are clearly visible well into the fields showing just how swollen the river can get at times.

I left the Ribble Way, saving the walk to Rathmell for another day, and turned up by the former Runley Watermill, continuing on up Lodge Road. Then it was back along Brockhole Lane to Settle. ‘Brock’ is the old name for a badger which is a bit of a coincidence as I’d just seen a dead badger near the Ribble. It had a dead bird on its back. How they met their fates I don’t know. It’s not pleasant coming across death on your walk – I apologise if the photo upsets some people. I’m not being sensationalist – similar scenes appear all over the countryside and you have to get used to them, even on public footpaths.

There have been some great variations in light this week. The top photo in this post was taken yesterday evening from Winskill, looking towards Ingleborough across Ribblesdale. It’s a bit grainy and the light is fading but I liked the shades of colour as late sunlight was filtered through thin mist. Penyghent also caught my eye again on another clear evening…

With all this talk of death I thought I should be a little more cheerful and include a couple of new-life shots… all together now, aawww…

Three Peaks rules and a girly Scotsman

There’s barely a day goes by when the Three Peaks or the Settle-Carlisle Railway don’t crop up in conversation around this part of Ribblesdale. In the last seven days we’ve seen a massive influx of folk from all over the country head our way to watch Flying Scotsman – which apparently is a ‘she’, not a ‘he’ (I blame the confusion on kilts) – travel up the line to celebrate the reopening of the stretch between Appleby and Carlisle.

The old ‘girl’ certainly has pulling power, not only in the physical sense … just how many people lined the whole route from Oxenhope, where it started the journey on the Keighley & Worth Valley line, to Carlisle I can’t imagine. I got a photo as it passed Langcliffe in the morning, then I joined hundreds of people at Ribblehead Viaduct for the evening return beneath Whernside.

Earlier in the week I took a quieter (and less expensive) train for a day in Appleby. There are some pleasant easy walks around the town beside the River Eden, lovely churches and buildings, but it was a shame the castle gardens were not open on such a lovely day.

On the train I ear-wigged a conversation between three young walkers (young to me being under 40) who were chatting about the Three Peaks walk which they were now thinking of taking on after seeing the view through the windows. They were talking about Three Peaks ‘rules’ – which I thought was a shame really … ‘You’ve got to do the ‘official’ route, log in and out, complete within the time allowed etc.’ they said. What tosh – just go out there and enjoy the walk and scenery, I thought. There is no ‘official’ route – it can be between just over 23 and just under 26 miles depending on which way you go. The walk takes as long as you want it to, or are capable of.
Author and writer Alfred Wainwright was a miserable old fart like me, and he wrote about the Three Peaks: ‘Some participants have chosen to regard the walk as a race, and this is to be greatly regretted, walking is a pleasure to be enjoyed in comfort …,’ he grumbled.
According to that ever-reliable (!) source of all knowledge, Wikipedia, the first recorded ascent of the three hills was in July 1887 by J R Wynne-Edwards and D R Smith in a time of 10 hours.
Amongst my collection of old books (which I refer to as Jackopedia) I uncovered this paragraph from Victorian artist and rambler G T Lowe, written in 1892: “Looking round from the viaduct at Ribblehead, one can appreciate the feat which of late has occupied the attention of a few of our Leeds pedestrians: the ascent of Ingleborough, Whernside and Penyghent in under ten hours. Starting from the Flying Horse Shoe at Clapham, the whole journey over the three summits to Horton-in-Ribblesdale is over twenty-five miles as the crow flies, and affords a grand variety of views of mountains and moorland. Being in good training, we found it a comparatively fair day’s work.”
A love the Victorian understatement – and the fact they used the railways for their day out: Leeds to Clapham – walk the peaks – return Horton to Leeds. I wonder if that version of the Three Peaks can still be done using today’s timetable? Over to you train buffs.

Tag: Ingleborough

Two falls and a submission in the Dales

Like this:

Why life’s just hell in the Dales (12 pics)

Off to Hell

Like this:

Back in the Dales with a smile on my face

Back on the moors

Back in the dales

Back in Ribblesdale

And finally…

Like this:

‘Having five minutes’ in the Yorkshire Dales

Like this:

16 new Dales photos to view

Like this:

More reasons to love the Yorkshire Dales

All hail the Dales

Like this:

Ribblesdale blossoms again

Ribblesdale lambs

More Langcliffe

Like this:

My war plans for Yorkshire unveiled

Like this:

See life and death beside the river

Like this:

Three Peaks rules and a girly Scotsman

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Off to Hell

Share this:

Like this:

Back on the moors

Back in the dales

Back in Ribblesdale

And finally…

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

All hail the Dales

Share this:

Like this:

Ribblesdale lambs

More Langcliffe

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: