Photos of the Yorkshire Dales Paul Jackson Ribblesdale
I managed to capture one of those magical Dales skies this evening. There seemed to be so much happening – shadow and light dancing along the ground and layer upon layer of clouds and muted colours above. A razor-edged shaft of light came in from the left just for a few seconds to give the scene even more interest. The distant cloud is just brushing the top of Ingleborough. Many a time I’ve watched the sun go down from here at Winskill, up above Langcliffe in Ribblesdale.
At the weekend I took this photo of a run-down farm high on the hills between Slaidburn and Bentham because the scene reminded me a little of an Ashley Jackson painting. It’s missing a dramatic glowering sky but contains several other elements of his enigmatic work… even down to the poles and power/telephone lines. The moors here are rough and windswept; the buildings show the scars from endless battles against the elements. This area above Stocks Reservoir has more of a feel of Ashley’s South Pennines than the limestone Dales further north, a bridge between the two distinct areas. If you swivel left of this view you can usually see Ingleborough peeking between the hills which guard the infant river Hodder in its steep sided valley. A minor road snakes through this dale like some mini Alpine pass. On clear days, to the west you can pick out the beginnings of the industrial areas of Lancashire… so the less said about that the better. Ashley describes Yorkshire’s moors as his mistress… hope he doesn’t mind me flirting with her a little here.
PS I can recommend a visit to Ashley Jackson’s Gallery in Holmfirth – see www.ashley-jackson.co.uk (and no, we’re not related. Although, come to think of it, we’re both short with grey hair… and my dad did have a bike…)
(I played around with the picture in Photoshop to create more of a watercolour effect.)
If you get the chance, drive along the road between Stainforth and Halton Gill. This Silverdale which joins Ribblesdale with Littondale around the east side of Penyghent – there are some fabulous views. Went there late afternoon when I spotted some blue sky. By gum it were fair windy but at least the cobwebs were blown away after I’d had four hours of dealing with Countryman emails. Here are some pics from the first half of the journey – the sheep mistook me for the farmer and they got a bit miffed when I didn’t feed them.
Thought I’d stretch the little old legs with a walk out of Chapel le Dale despite the grey, misty weather. I took a look around the tiny church where the navvies who died while building Ribblehead Viaduct are buried. Plenty of snowdrops in the churchyard but the daffs haven’t made an appearance yet. Took a slight diversion to gawp down Hurtle Pot . It felt a little eerie, dark and dank standing in this great gully with the only sound being the echo of a screeching raven high above. There was very little water and the River Doe was running completely underground. I mooched around the dry river bed a while in a pointless search for Weathercote Cave before heading up the hill towards the limestone scars. The landscape beside the track is weird here. Limestone rocks are scattered everywhere and are coated in thick moss and fungi about which I know nothing. Large trees grow from the crevices despite there seemingly being little to sustain them. Half way up the track is a rusting old statue created by a famous (so it says on t’ internet) sculptor called Charles I’Anson – hard to tell whether the creation is supposed to be an archer or an alien. There’s a plaque which says that the statue was vandalised in 1983 and subsequently found by cave divers in 30ft of water down Hurtle Pot. ‘Time will tell if the spirit of the boggard of Hurtle Pot is now enshrined in the statue’ states the plaque. Strange coincidence maybe, but I’anson died in 1983. A bit further up the track a sheep’s skull lay in the path looking towards Whernside. I took this as a hint that I shouldn’t venture that way. The opposite way didn’t bring me any photographic joy though, as a still snow-laden Ingleborough only reluctantly and briefly appeared in the distant mist. Perhaps the omens were against me today but in some perverse way I enjoyed the walk.
Two of my prized dandelions made an appearance this weekend – spring must be on its way. Nurtured through years of neglect and apathy my dandelions looked a treat but there remains a 3ft snowdrift up against the field wall across the road. Local farmers are still putting out extra feed for the sheep and lambs as there are not yet enough nutrients in the fields. But at least the animals are all outside now and not in sheds. It was amusing watching the lambs at one of the feeders. Half of them didn’t know what was happening and just watched on in amazement; the other half climbed inside the iron feeder or got stuck halfway in. The episode made me realise that sheep make terrible mums. They either abandoned or almost trampled over their off-springs in the rush to meet the farmer bringing the feed, then barged the youngsters out of the way if it seemed they might be beaten to a slot at the feeder.
I suppose you have to admire the brass-neck mentality of Lancastrians. Over recent months they’ve banged in several of their ugly signs on roadsides staking claims on Yorkshire territory. Where once there might have been apologetic little notices showing those parts of Yorkshire which in 1974 were handed over to alternative local authorities for governmental administration purposes only, there now stand large erroneous statements telling travellers they are entering (or, preferably, leaving) Lancashire. There are some particularly annoying signs – like the one (above) on the road between Wigglesworth and Sawley Abbey – which is actually around 8 miles away from the county border. There’s an even worse one on the A682 between Long Preston and Gisburn which is so big and red it makes me grind my teeth every time I drive by the wretched monstrosity (it’s too dangerous to stop and take a picture of it). The other photo below shows the sign at Tosside, Yorkshire… ‘Thieves Beware’ indeed! When these heathens were granted permission to look after our land I didn’t expect them to misinform and defile our beloved county.
It’s that time of year when I make my first sighting of the greater-spotted caravaner (tardus progressio) along the A65 near home. On Bank Holidays I tend to dip into my repertoire of back roads in order to find a quiet drive, a short walk and a nice pint. Good Friday was far from good on the main Dales roads so I ventured off the main route to the Lakes, down to Bentham and followed the narrow road over the moors to Slaidburn. I took in the scene over the Three Peaks and Gragareth from that enormous and weird Great Stone of Fourstones (pictured) before tackling the winding way over the tops. In places, roadside snowdrifts hung precariously over the car roof, while on the bleak moors the fierce wind had created crazy snow patterns amongst the tufts and the walls. A sharpish walk beside the river in Slaidburn helped ease the guilt of spending most of the day on my backside then it was off to Tosside for a welcome pint.
Did the Three Peaks today… by car, of course, I’m not a total fruitcake. The ground temperature here in Ribblesdale was around zero and the biting wind made holding still the camera nigh on impossible. There were several tiny lambs on this farm below Penyghent near Horton, and they must have wondered why on earth they’d been forced out into such a freezing world. Whernside looked spectacular against a vivid blue sky while just across the Doe Valley, looking east, Ingleborough was grey and particularly uninviting.
Up to retiring from my job as editor of the Yorkshire Dalesman magazine in November 2012 I wrote a weekly blog about my travels around the great county of Yorkshire. I always took with me my trusty Canon 300D to make a photographic record of my trips and tried to include some shots – good and poor – in the blog. Readers got in touch from all over the world to thank me for showing them what Yorkshire is like or for reminding them ‘of the old place’. I’m hoping, if we ever get any decent photographic weather, to continue with the ‘service’ from this blog so please keep coming back to see where I’ve been… and get in touch if you’d like to see somewhere specific from God’s Own Country.
(I’m also freelance editor of The Countryman – a national magazine for lovers of the countryside – visit my blog via www.countrymanmagazine.co.uk . The new editor of Dalesman also publishes a fine blog via www.dalesman.co.uk )