ribble Archives - Page 4 of 5 - Scribble by the Ribble

Floods, pixies, rainbows and poor development

I was annoyed that I couldn’t get to Malham to capture the rare sight of water tumbling over the Cove last weekend. The road from home to Malham was blocked, and with floods all around Settle I didn’t want to risk a longer journey. Settle bypass was also closed and the alternative route through town and up Buckhaw Brow was under water in parts. I did walk up to Giggleswick Scar and snapped the water lying in the Ribble valley floodplain. The former Giggleswick Tarn (top pic) also made a rare appearance. In 1863 a chap called Joseph Taylor came across a medieval dug-out canoe while carrying out drainage works on the site of the former Giggleswick Tarn — just thought I’d tell you.

Also making a comeback was a stretch of water beneath Stainforth Scar near Langcliffe, and a waterfall down the scar — not quite as spectacular as the one at Malham Cove but a rarity all the same.

While I was scuttling about around the old tip beneath Stainforth Scar, trying to find a decent spot to take the waterfall photo, I spotted this tiny fungus growing on the tip of a fence post. Nature never ceases to amaze me. I swear I noticed a couple of tiny dancing pixies but I put that down to the previous night’s red wine.

You will have noticed that I’m slightly better at photographing things that stay still for long periods. For three days this week I visited the millpond at Langcliffe Locks trying to capture a spectacular kingfisher which I first glimpsed on Tuesday. There was another flash of blue, inches above the water, on Thursday but I was too slow to get a picture. Friday I loitered around again but didn’t see it. I was distracted briefly by a squirrel scampering across a wall but once more I was too slow focusing on the speedy little beggar. Later it popped up on fence just after I put the camera away. It was definitely smirking.

While in Stainforth I nipped down to the Foss which was in an excited mood; a thunderous, boiling cauldron in fact, as the Ribble swept through like a tidal wave first beneath the ancient arches of the packhorse bridge and then over the deep, rocky precipice.

The river was much calmer on Friday after its exertions of the previous few days. I often wonder why the Ribble rushes so much in these parts — you’d think it would saunter through Yorkshire and push on as quickly as possible through Lancashire.

Yesterday we were hit by snow and yet more rain. You’ll be starting to think this blog is just about the weather, but it really has dominated life recently in the dale and beyond. At least some rainbows around Ribblesdale helped briefly brighten the place up. The Christmas lights in Settle are also cheering — let’s hope the weather doesn’t totally ruin the year’s best week for local traders.

Floods

Like most people — at least those living north of the M62 — my thoughts have been with those affected by the storm and floods in the North West. Sometimes there’s not a lot we can do about taming Nature and we just have to cope with it — as the good folk of Cumbria seem to be doing: help if you can… http://www.cumbriafoundation.org

Understanding flood plains and leaving them well alone is, however, something people CAN control. Yet a recent report by Greenpeace states that almost half of those areas fast-tracked for new housing development by the government are on floodplains. On top of this, the number of staff in the floods and coastal erosion risk management section of the Environment Agency has been reduced dramatically in the past three years, along with the agency’s funding. Trying to solve one problem by creating another is very poor management of the country’s affairs.

Feedback

It seems that I am one of the few people in the world without a smart phone. I’m really old fashioned and still use a computer (one of those things that sit on a desk with a big screen – you remember them, don’t you?). It appears that the flipbook of Ingleton I produced for last week’s blog doesn’t work too well for those who prefer squinting at a tiny screen and swishing it around in circles to avoid reflections. So I’ve produced a more ‘mobile-friendly’ version here…

For anyone who has more money than sense and owns one of those watch-screen-thingies then… tough, get out more and go see Ingleton for yourself (smiley do-da wotsit here).

Signs of the past, dodgy wives and the Elf King

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.

Dales inspiration – whatever the weather

I spent a great deal of my working life looking at photographs, deciding which should appear in the publications I worked on. Often the decision was down to the story told by the photo rather than its artistic or technical merits. When all those points were satisfied in one shot the chances were I wouldn’t be able to afford to pay for it. Now I’m retired but I still enjoy looking at photos. The internet provides a wealth of photographic material for me to view (get your minds out of the gutter, please!) but I also love visiting photo exhibitions where the art of printing and presenting also comes into play. On a very wet Wednesday I went to Wensleydale to see a photo exhibition by Selside photographer Hilary Fenten at the Dales Countryside Museum in Hawes. She captures the essence of the Dales extremely well and obviously has a natural talent. Seeing such work helps inspire me with my own photography. The top picture showing Horton Scar Lane tells the story of Thursday – see later on in the blog.

The rain was pouring down in Hawes, as can be seen in this shot of the beck through the town centre.

And back home in Ribblesdale, this shot was taken with a shutter speed of 0.3000s which tells you how quickly the Ribble was traveling over Langcliffe Weir.

While the river was raging like a good un just a few yards away, Langcliffe Mill pond looked serene. Stainforth Scar in the distance had a cloud for a hat almost all day…

Many folk had a fine sunset on Wednesday but a combination of low cloud and fog here created a strange light and the chance to take a direct photo of the sun.

The previous day had seen clear blue skies as I strolled into Settle from Langcliffe via the high path. Grazing on the steep hills is donkey work, but the animal is perfectly developed for such land with its long back legs and neck.

I always think Castleberg rock provides a dramatic welcome to the town centre…

The forecasters predicted the rain would cease on Thursday afternoon so I planned a stroll up Horton Scar Lane from Horton village to see the water pouring into Hull Pot. The main waterfall was a great sight and there were smaller falls seeping out through the sides, making it look like a leaking dam about to burst. However, there wasn’t much of a collection of water in the bottom of this great hole so there must have been plenty of room underground to take it away down the hillside to eventually join the Ribble. I’ve witnessed water up to about halfway up the hole while other people tell me they’ve seen it full. It’s an awesome place and deadly if you are unaware of its presence on a misty day. At 300ft long, 60ft wide and 60ft deep, Hull Pot is thought to be the largest (natural) hole in England – although personally I think that title belongs to London.

I watched the cloud clear to reveal Penyghent but I wasn’t tempted to head up to the top – my excuse being it may well have started to get dark on the way back (honest).

The small wood near Ribblebanks at Langcliffe always puts on its coat of many colours around this time of year and is best seen from the opposite hillside above the railway line. The view over the stoneworks isn’t so pleasant but then this part of Ribblesdale, with all its natural resources, has always been home to industry with quarries, limeworks and mills providing employment for centuries.

Hallowe’en passed by quietly apart from when I was preparing for bed. I looked in the bathroom mirror and saw a grotesque grey-haired old man looking back at me. Where did my youthful looks go?

Monoliths, aliens and a conflict of interests in the Dales

Standing on top of Great Stone of Fourstones, which marks the Yorkshire border with that other county whose name escapes me, you can enjoy one of the best ‘driveable’ views of the south-western dales. The Three Peaks, Gragareth, Howgills and the distant jagged teeth of the Lakeland Fells are laid out before you. The 16ft-tall glacial deposit is the only one of four large stone outcrops remaining on this spot on Tatham Fell, near High Bentham – the others probably having been broken up for buildings and tools. I wanted a view but not a trek on Wednesday and this monolith once again proved an ideal location. With a 200mm zoom lens I was able to make out the layered-cake effect of Ingleborough and capture Whernside looking particularly dominant above Twisleton Scar.

After writing last week’s blog on Sunday I wandered up Ribblesdale and on to Stainforth Foss where dozens of people were on salmon-leap-watch. I wondered whether there would be any conflict here today, as just a few yards down river from the falls were two anglers … salmon fishing? Poaching? I didn’t stop to find out, but headed further downstream to Langcliffe where the colours on the riverbank and millpond stood out starkly against a drab sky.

I reckoned this week would be one of the best for capturing the changing colours and I was right. On Monday I took a stroll around Malham Tarn – almost ignoring the tarn and concentrating on the surrounding bogland, shrubs and trees. The last time I’d been in this woodland I’d been startled by a deer but there was no sign this time.

The blue sky came out later and I got some good shots of the eastern side of Penyghent. I was also able to snatch some great scenes around home later that day in the evening sun.

St John the Evangelist in Langcliffe might not have the history or ancient architecture of older dales churches but it is certainly a pretty Victorian building within well-kept grounds and it looks a picture when caught in the evening sun.

At this time of year I like to raise my eyes above the area’s wonderful landscape and take in the ever-changing autumn sky. It’s been a treat this week with a variety of clouds, shades, and sunsets. On Friday I sat above Winskill and watched an invasion of aliens beaming up all before them … I woke up Saturday morning with ‘REJECT: Beyond Best Before Date’ stamped across my forehead.

Yesterday, after strolling by the Ribble in some glorious changing light, I drove up to the old road between Settle and Feizor to watch the sunset. I also waited as long as I dare for an unsteady hand-held night shot, to capture an outline of Ingleborough.

Thistle threat, litter louts and dog poo – but all's well in the colourful dales

I have often thought that left without any interference from human and beast, thistles would eventually dominate the world. I’m sure this year I’ve seen more fields taken over by the plant than ever before. While everyone is worrying about militants and terrorists, thistles are sneaking up behind us. You read it here first. I saw these (below left) on a walk up to Stainforth Scar (above) which looked splendid in the morning light. The one on the right appears ready to take on weapons of mass destruction.

The last week has reminded me that to live in the Dales I must also accept their ever-changing moods. I enjoy watching light dancing across the moors and pastures like this little performance over Newhouses Tarn (below) which is on the road between Horton and Birkwith.

Not as pleasant but often just as dramatic are those times when rain clouds pass quickly overhead. One day last autumn my aim was to slog my way up Park Fell but it became too soggy so I followed the path across the limestone close to the ancient settlement and towards Ribblehead. This photo of Penyghent was taken on my way up the track to Colt Park. I liked the way the trees and sheep were forming an orderly queue up the hill.

When I remember, I will take a plastic bag on my walks so I can carry home any small bits of litter carelessly dropped by others. I’ve not got some kind of disorder or anything like that; primarily I just don’t like the thought of animals or birds choking on garbage selfishly discarded by humans who should know better. Locally there’s usually very little to pick up but at certain popular spots used by day trippers the problem can be horrendous. The culprits don’t seem to realise (or care) that no one is actually paid to tidy up after them in the open countryside. So imagine my horror this week on seeing litter being thrown out of the back of a very expensive car – by children – along the back road to Malham from Settle. Well done parents, that’s the way to engender respect for the countryside.
Shortly afterwards I came across bags of dog poo in a lane, and I almost went into full-blown Victor Meldrew mode. A local told me they thought the bags would probably be picked up by the dog walkers on their return journey to save them having to carry them around their walk, which placated me a little. But I have seen poo-bags hanging from branches and fences like Christmas gifts on a tree before now. Unbelievable.

Talking of dogs, I’ve often admired this construction on the path between Stackhouse and Settle. Part of it lifts up to allow pooches easy access. However, a warning to dog owners walking this stretch at the moment: a couple of fields nearer Settle there were several cows with calves when I walked through yesterday.

Nature’s colours have definitely changed this week and autumn has announced its imminent arrival in the dale. Early-leafing trees are now quickly shedding, and a couple of colder, clear nights have sped up the process. I like bright autumn days and look forward to capturing the colours once again. Here are three photos taken during the last week around my home. Above, a view from Stanforth Scar over the Ribble and Stackhouse; below, a leafy lane in Stackhouse; bottom, on the path between Winskill and Settle.

Carless in Settle, accommodating cows, synchronised sheep and the Simpsons

I think I’m developing RSI in my camera-clicking finger. The week has seen some amazing atmospheric conditions in Ribblesdale and, although I’ve been carless and stayed local, I’ve managed to capture a bucket-load of pictures. The thing about being a point-and-shoot, capture-quickly-what-you-see snapper like me is that you usually end up with a hard drive swamped with flotsam and jetsam and just a few pearls hidden in among. This week, however, it’s been difficult to narrow down a selection to use in the blog. The cows provided me with a perfect foreground for shots of Ingleborough (above) and Penyghent (below) taken from Winskill Stones.

Just a little further down the lane Samson’s Toe erratic helped with my view down Ribblesdale over Settle and Giggleswick.

There were some clear shots looking south-west this week, and I particularly liked this one with the dappled sunshine. In the distance you can see the natives of Lancashire burning witches in the borderlands.

I fair galloped out of the house one evening on seeing a large dark cloud passing overhead. It came and went quickly and happily deposited its contents elsewhere, but it was certainly a scene-changer in these parts. Here are a couple of many shots I grabbed. The four sheep, unconcerned about what’s happening above, seem to have established their own space with some accuracy.

I do enjoy being a photographer-on-the-hoof, but occasionally I wish I’d been a bit more professional and taken with me more equipment (and had more technical know-how – and patience!). A tripod and remote clicker would have improved my shots at Catrigg Force and the Hoffmann Kiln (below).

Walking up to Stainforth Foss I spotted this heron. Every time I got within 50 yards of it it flew on a little further up the Ribble. We played this enjoyable little cat and mouse game for about ten minutes. This is a poor shot (below) I know, but it shows that I did at least try to be a bit more Ray Mears.

The foss and bridge looked splendid and I was the only person around. This, and strolling up to Stainforth to have a grand pint of Wainwright’s in the Craven Heifer, reminded me of how lucky I am to be retired and to live in such a lovely place.

Walkers heading up Goat Scar Lane from Stainforth to Catrigg may often have their head down wishing the steep climb would soon end. But stopping and taking a look back across towards Smearsett Scar and Ingleborough is well worth it.

The clouds on that photo and also on the next one showing Penyghent, remind me of the start of the Simpsons cartoon on TV. No manipulation on my part – the sky is exactly as I took it at the time.

Looking up at the magnificent Stainforth Scar (below) during the week I pondered why this wasn’t more of a Mecca for climbers. Some crag rats will probably tell me the rock isn’t stable enough, but even for a definite non-climber like me I can see the obvious attraction here.

Finally this week – who needs the Yorkshire Sculpture Park (a wonderful place by the way) when we have our own version in Ribblesdale. Every time I visit Lower Winskill there seems to be another welcome addition to the landscape. Some talented folk up there.

A Bo Peep moment, celebrity sheep and cracking the flags

On a regular walk by the Ribble earlier this week I wondered what was different. I had a Bo Peep moment and realised that the sheep had gone – carted off to the abattoir no doubt. Just a few lucky ones remained in a distant field. I’ll miss them. Looking back at some of my photos of the lambs in those same fields earlier in the year, and thinking about their short lives, leaves me quite saddened. I’d be a useless farmer.

From when I edited The Countryman magazine I recalled an article on the different styles of gates to be found around the British countryside – there are dozens of styles, many with their own names and peculiar to their region. I’ve made a note to search through my collection of photos looking for the various styles that I’ve captured while wandering through the Dales… it’s certainly a job for the long winter nights, but for starters I took this shot of an old gate on the back road between Langcliffe and Settle this week. Is there a term for ‘gate collectors’?

I’ve given up my car for a few weeks and left it, probably unwisely, in the hands of my son. It’ll be interesting to see how I go on without wheels. On Saturday I caught the train to Horton and called in at the village show. I’m sure this is the sheep that features on the Yorkshire Dales National Park signs.

Back in Settle it was cracking the flags… the Flag Crackers of Craven were performing along with other traditional folk dancers (although one little girl wasn’t too keen on the loud drumming). With a free folk festival also on over the weekend this little town sure is a vibrant place to live.

Here the 4th emergency service arrives in the nick of time to replenish stocks at the Lion.

Before I handed over the car keys I took a trip over to the enigmatic town of Holmfirth to visit artist Ashley Jackson and his lovely family. We’re not related – at least I don’t think so, although Granddad Jackson did have a bike. I’ve long admired Ashley’s work, even before I signed him up to produce a series of pieces for Dalesman magazine. He’s currently celebrating 60 years as an artist and also his 75th birthday, and is putting on an exhibition of his work called Passing Storms and Spiritual Skies at his Holmfirth gallery. You may have viewed his work on screens or in magazines but to see his original works full size, close-up, is a totally different and enlightening experience. No one captures Yorkshire’s moorland moods and atmosphere so intimately. The exhibition closes Sep 12 – for gallery opening times visit www.ashley-jackson.co.uk

On Thursday, despite the grey cloud cover I had a very pleasant walk with friends, taking in the Hoffman Kiln at Langcliffe, up to Catrigg Force, Winskill and Victoria Cave above Settle. I’ve yet to get a cracking photo of these spectacular falls but I always enjoy my visits – and there was plenty of water in the beck to make this trip worthwhile. I also got this nice shot of farm buildings with Ingleborough in the background, which I felt would look good in black and white.

Another day I wandered around Settle and saw this yellow ‘beck’. Sad old fool that I am, I still remember a pop song by Christie from 1970 called Yellow River, and I ended up singing the darn thing all the way round the rest of the walk. Finally, I came across these ducks on a pipe, looking as though they were about to start a proper duck race. A couple have not quite got the idea and are facing the wrong way. Quackers.

The Charms of Ribblesdale (with barns and bunnies)

By Ribble’s stream I’ll pass my days,
If wishes aught avail;
For all that mortals want or praise
Is found in Ribblesdale.

So goes the first verse of Novello’s madrigal, The Charms of Ribblesdale. (I’d love to hear it sung so if anyone knows of a recording please let me know.) The poem’s sentimentality may be a tad OTT but I did feel the need to sing the dale’s praises myself on Monday. Wandering alone – give or take a few dozen sheep – around the deserted settlement of Thorns I wondered why anyone would ever want to leave such an idyllic spot. After just a short ascent from the crumbling buildings glorious views of the dale open up – without the effort and toil of struggling up one of the peaks. I continued a little further along the Ribble Way which heads from Thorns towards High Birkwith. Within half a mile of Thorns is another derelict building, Back Hools Barn (note to self: find out about that name!).

One sheep on lookout duty at the door alerted a gang of other sheepish looking characters obviously up to no good inside. They scarpered as I took a nosey at the rotting wooden partitions and beams. The stone doorways and window lintels were nicely carved and a mason’s mark showed he was proud of his work.
Barns and walls are the furniture of the dales and, despite being man-made, without them the whole area would be less appealing. Back in 2006 the National Park did a sample survey which showed that 58 per cent of all traditional farm buildings were in a state considered unfavourable. Of 310 such sites surveyed in Ribblesdale 32 per cent were classified as poor or worse (ruinous or demolished) while 37 per cent were classified as good or excellent. Of the rest, 17 per cent had been converted to residential use and 14 per cent were classed as fair. I’d be interested to know what the figures now show.

On a wet day this week I looked back through some of last year’s photos and posted on Twitter and Facebook this sunset on Ingleborough. It caused quite a stir and brought me more’ likes’, ‘favourites’ and ‘retweets’ than I’d ever got before. Funnily enough, I think my previous ‘best’ was of a similar light on Penyghent. I would go for a hat-trick with a shot on Whernside but its position at sunset is not as favourable – perhaps a sunrise would suffice if I can be bothered to crawl out from under the duvet early enough.

On Thursday I set off on a gentle circular walk from Helwith Bridge beside the river to Horton, intending to return below the quarries to Foredale. However, a sign informed me that part of the return route was closed for the rest of the year – which seemed a bit draconian just for a couple of hundreds yards of path. Curiosity didn’t get the better of me this time but I might do some discrete investigation at a later date. The little bunny on the other side of this dramatic ‘no entry’ sign either can’t read or is a bit of a rebel.

Foredale’s row of cottage with unforgiving background always reminds me of a Welsh mining scene or a landslip disaster waiting to happen. It’s not like that at all really and if you haven’t seen the film Lad: A Yorkshire Story which is shot in this area, I recommend you do so immediately.

The railway line was busy during my walk – goods going up and steam coming down.

The river certainly livened up as the week wore on, and after last night’s storms today the sun is out once again. And so am I.

Border crossing, Yorkshireness and Mickey Mouse

Every now and then I’ll do something very unYorkshire-like by stepping outside the county boundary. There’s some method in this madness … you see, I have a Senior Railcard and it is my duty as a Yorkshireman to make sure I get my moneysworth out of it. The nice man at Settle station worked out the cheapest way to get me to Scotland’s north-east coast town of Stonehaven and back – just £64 which is cheaper than it would have cost to buy petrol for the car journey. Despite being only 15 miles from the bustling city of Aberdeen Stonehaven is peaceful and picturesque and within walking distance of the impressive Dunnottar Castle. If you’re interested in my snapshots of the area click here.

From whichever way you reenter Yorkshire there’s always some landmark that confirms you’re back on home soil. From the north west by train it’s the highest point of the Settle-Carlisle line at Ais Gill for me. The Scottish coastline has some terrific scenery but I still adore traveling down Mallerstangdale, crossing into Dentdale and then emerging from Blea Moor tunnel into the land of the Three Peaks.
The picture above is looking across to the Yorkshire side of Mallerstangdale beneath Great Shunner Fell.

I was back in time to celebrate Yorkshire Day in Ribblesdale where in Langcliffe we had a Jacob’s Join and sang the full version of Ilkla Mooar Baht ‘at. As I’m completely tone deaf I just drank beer.

The start of the week was dismal with little chance of photography due to the weather. I managed to spot a short-lived spell of light among the grey of Stainforth Scar (above), and noted that the weir on the Ribble (below) was a bit livelier than of late.

Yesterday afternoon the mill pond looked grand as it caught the sun. Shortly after taking the photo I was spotted by about 30 ducks that all started paddling frantically towards me. I made a hasty retreat as the hungry birds seemed determined to find something to nibble.

The brilliant flowerpot festival in Settle has attracted much interest this week but I wonder how many visitors lift their eyes to see this little chap (below). He has a cartoon pal nearby too, and they’re both on permanent display. I’m not telling you where they are, you’ll just have to come and find them.

The ups and downs of a Dales summer

People were rushing for their sunglasses in Ribblesdale this week – not to shade their eyes from the welcome sun but to prevent glare from my milk-white legs which I exposed to an unwary public for the first time in a couple of years.
Last Sunday there was some lovely evening light which I was lucky enough to witness at Lower Winskill. The peaks of Smearsett Scar and a distant Ingleborough looked cool.

On Monday I popped back down to Langcliffe Mill pond to see if the tiny chicks were still around and was relieved to see there were still nine despite the presence of a huge heron.

A goods train from Carlisle passed beneath me as I trundled over the footbridge and I thought what a better way this was to transport stone from the quarries than via the hundreds of noisy trucks which pass on the nearby B6479 road.

I felt sorry for the sheep on a humid Tuesday as they struggled with heavy woollen coats but found some shade beside this cute little barn next to the Ribble. Close by are these lovely allotments – a credit to those who tend them.

An earlier comment I read on Facebook had reminded me of a Grade ii* listed building in Ribblesdale called Lodge Hall, sometimes known as Ingman’s Lodge. Many walkers doing the Three Peaks will have passed by the 17th-century building which, along with several outbuildings, doesn’t look in the best of condition. I’m in no way having a go at the owner but I would have thought English Heritage or similar would want to ensure this architectural treasure is maintained for future generations to admire. The dog here didn’t seem too pleased with my interference.

The same day, I drove down the top end of Dentdale and happened upon this steam train leaving Dent Station, and I also managed to capture it as it crossed Dent Head Viaduct. A great sight and tribute to those who worked hard to keep the Settle-Carlisle Railway open. (Can I assure friends here that I DO NOT need an intervention regarding any perceived obsession with trains.)

I got up early for a stroll by the Ribble from Langcliffe to Stainforth on Friday. But I was left downbeat by the sad state of the area around Stainforth Foss. It looked like there’d been a mini-Glastonbury Festival there … cans, bottles and other garbage strewn everywhere, even in the river. Goodness knows what it was like over the weekend – the place means a lot to me and I dare not go look just yet. Come on, Park Rangers and police – this behaviour is not just a disgrace but also illegal – do something about it.

On my way back home, as I was chuntering to myself about how I’d make the morons pick up the litter with their teeth, I popped my head into the Hoffmann Kiln. The light reflected from the bright, sun-lit greenery produced a stunning effect inside this man-made cavern. My first thought was what a tremendous art gallery this could become.

The weather? It’s been a week of sun, rain, hailstones the size of golf balls, high winds, gentle summer breezes and soaring temperatures, not to mention the thunder and lightning which played havoc with my electricity and computer. The ups and downs of summer in the Dales.

Tag: ribble

Floods, pixies, rainbows and poor development

Floods

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Signs of the past, dodgy wives and the Elf King

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Dales inspiration – whatever the weather

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Monoliths, aliens and a conflict of interests in the Dales

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Thistle threat, litter louts and dog poo – but all's well in the colourful dales

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Carless in Settle, accommodating cows, synchronised sheep and the Simpsons

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A Bo Peep moment, celebrity sheep and cracking the flags

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The Charms of Ribblesdale (with barns and bunnies)

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Border crossing, Yorkshireness and Mickey Mouse

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The ups and downs of a Dales summer

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Floods

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