admin, Author at Scribble by the Ribble

A pain in the Dales

A while back I took the camera for a drive in the Dales from Settle over to Malham, looking for some long-distance shots. It’s surprising – or maybe it isn’t surprising for those in the know – how different the scenery is along either side of the Craven Fault. These two photos were taken from locations quite close to each other, one looking over the once densely wooded expanse towards Pendle Hill; the other in the opposite direction across the limestone of Malham. The contrast is clear to see.

Last week’s successful hosting of the finish to Day 1 of the Tour de Yorkshire in Settle is still being talked about in glowing terms. To use the sporting vernacular, the town done good. A suggestion has been put forward that the Hollywood-style lettering should be kept clinging on to Castleberg Rock. Not so sure myself; I think storing the letters and dusting them down for special occasions is preferable. How long before a T or an E start to dangle at some ungainly angle or worse still drop off and give someone a nasty headache?

There’s still lots going on in and around Settle – visit http://us2.campaign-archive1.com/?u=25c7087d7c4eab1177ab47d3b&id=3a53ca6a66&e=138a860936#Local%20History%20Month

Dales memories

Back problems and sciatica ended any thoughts of me getting out and about in the much improved weather around the dales this week. Even just sitting at the computer is proving excruciating. Lack of sleep and being dosed up on painkillers have not helped the old creative juices flow either. So my apologies for this week’s abbreviated and uninspiring blog – fingers crossed my situation will improve over the next week. My thanks to friends, family and neighbours who have all offered help.

Sitting in the car is also painful, and I’m missing the drive up Ribblesdale to see the Three Peaks. Here’s how they look in my memory…

Why Ribblesdale never sleeps

I heard a TV reporter, on probably her first visit to the area, describe Settle as ‘a sleepy little town in the Dales’. She was covering the Tour de Yorkshire on the day the media and cycling circuses (is that the plural?) descended on my part of Ribblesdale. ‘Sleepy’ Settle had woken up extremely early to the prospect of a media mosh pit in the market place and a lycra-clad army of warriors on wheels whooshing through the tiny main street, clearly breaking the 20mph speed limit while dozens of police just stood and watched. Over many weeks, various organisations, businesses, schools and individuals had been trimming the town for its 15 minutes of fame (and hopefully a much longer legacy) – and what a fantastic job they did. The Hollywood lettering on Castleberg Rock, the shop decorations and Giggleswick school’s brilliant landscape art being just a few of the worthy efforts. If you haven’t seen the Gigg art visit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QOjxiXcFzg&sns=fb

I trudged up Buckhaw Brow to watch the cyclists flash by. I initially thought it was cruel to start the sprint at the top of a 12 per cent climb, but hey, these guys are masochists anyway so they probably got some kind of perverted pleasure from the pain. Frenchman Anthony Turgis (Cofidis) – pictured – was first to the sprint start near the top of Buckhaw Brow but he ended the race in Settle in 29th position – serves him right for showing off up t’ hill.

Of all the colourful action and crowd photos I managed to capture, my favourite photo of the day was this shot of former Tour de France stage winner Brian Robinson. The 84-year-old from Mirfield stopped (in a car entourage, not on a bike) at the start of the sprint to sign autographs and say hello to the hardy souls enduring the cold at this exposed spot. His delight and that of an admiring young fan is clear to see.

Walking back to Langcliffe from Buckhaw Brow via Giggleswick Scar I could see clearly how much snow remained on the high hills and I wondered how that would affect those taking part in the annual Three Peaks race the following day (yeah, really sleepy this area intit?). As it happened, around 700 athletes completed the course with Marc Lauenstein finishing at Horton in Ribblesdale in 2hr 48min 58sec – just three minutes outside the course record despite the freezing conditions. Mad as a box of frogs, the lot of them.

Ribblesdale erosion

The already eroded course will have suffered greatly from yesterday’s pounding. I know the race organisers and others help a lot with path maintenance around Ribblesdale and the Three Peaks, and we all need to play our part. Some people could find irony in the fact that the Yorkshire Dales National Park Authority (YDNPA) is organising a walk to raise money for vital work needed to care for paths being eroded by hikers. I’m sure the walk will do more good than harm! The YDNP is teaming up with the Heart Foundation charity for ‘A Day in the Dales’ centred on the Three Peaks. A selection of sponsored walks are being arranged for June 18 with all money raised being split between the charity and the Three Peaks Project. For more information about the events and entry forms visit http://heartresearch.org.uk/3peaks

Weatherwise we’ve had all four seasons during the week in the Dales – although we could perhaps have done with some thunder and lightning to complete a full set. On Tuesday I was driving down Ribblesdale and got a shot of Drybeck Farm and Penyghent (first pic in blog). Then around 7.45pm I just had to stop and capture fabulous late sunlight on St Peter’s, Stainforth. This Gothic revival church, consecrated in 1842, might not have the ancient history of neighbouring churches but certainly has a presence.

The snowfall got me looking back through my photo archive to see what was happening around this time in previous years. Last year I was enjoying the sun in Littondale where trees were budding well.

In 2014, April 29, notice the blossom and greenery at Dent.

The previous year I walked in T-shirt and shorts beside the Ribble from Helwith Bridge to Horton.

Dent days

Mention of Dent reminds me that last week I had to leave out pictures of a steady stroll I had around Cowgill at the top end of Dentdale. The stream sometimes disappears out of sight here and you can walk up the river bed; at other times water rushes down from the surrounding hills to create a spectacular sight. The steep hillsides along with white-painted cottages give the area a Lake District feel. (Stupid auto correct keeps changing Dentdale to Dental and Cowgill to Cowgirl so apologies if I’ve missed any.)

Ribblesdale cowgill barn — Ripe for conversion in Dentdale?

Settle in gear, Rome, Wham & lamb

Seeing this new build on the edge of Settle while on a walk to Cleatop Park on Friday reminded me of an article I’d read about the housebuilding industry in this country. The government continually tells us that the country needs more housing yet Britain’s biggest developers are currently sitting on enough land to create more than 600k new homes. The top four companies – Berkeley, Barratt, Persimmon and Taylor Wimpey – own 450k of these plots, and are hoarding £947m cash set aside to build the houses. Last year those four dished out £1.5bn to their shareholders (Berkley’s chairman netted a cool £23m himself). Yet according to CPRE developers are still looking to gobble up more of our precious green belt land. We need to put a time limit on these vultures – build on the land within six months or hand it back for less than the price paid, oh, and keep your grubby hands off our countryside.

Sadly, Otley-born cycling champ Lizzie Armitstead won’t be in day one of the Tour de Yorkshire race letour.yorkshire.com which ends in Settle on Friday (her race is elsewhere on Saturday). It is very likely that Lizzie’s distant ancestors came from the settlement called Armitstead in the parish of Giggleswick. The surname (as well as the alternative spelling of Armistead) is still common in these parts. This old photo shows the former Armistead shop by which the cyclists will pass on Duke Street, Settle. Today we find it strange to see the sale of tobacco and sporting equipment in the same shop. (See also my surnames column link above.)

Settle ready

Settle is certainly gearing up for the visit of hundreds of cyclists and spectators. Huge Hollywood-style lettering on Castleberg Rock reminds everyone where they are, and local shops, organisations and individuals have made a real effort to make everyone feel welcome. I’m not sure whether there was enough money or material to spell out GIGGLESWICK across the scar. The sprint race passes through that fine parish and I’m looking forward to seeing the cyclists tackling Buckhaw Brow.

settle sunset — Stainforth Scar at sunset

I watched some very pleasant sunsets this week. Instead of focusing on the sun itself I thought I’d try to capture its late light on west-facing hillsides. Penyghent, Stainforth Scar, Moughton Scar and Crummackdale all took on a friendly fiery glow. Someone asked me the other day how the name Crummack originated. In 1190 it was recorded as Crumbok which stems from an ancient British word ‘crumbaco’ meaning crooked hill – so Crummackdale means ‘the valley of the crooked hill’.

settle crummack — Crummackdale in the late sunshine

When in Rome…

On Wednesday I went to Rome and saw Wham. Before you put me down as some kind of jet-setter with a dodgy taste in 80s music, I should clarify that Rome, Farther Rome and Upper and Lower Wham are tiny settlements on left of those zooming up Settle bypass towards the Lakes.

settle horse rome — ‘I didn’t do it’ – horse at damaged buildings, Rome

The lanes and paths in the area between Giggleswick and Gisburn Forest are a great place to explore. Good map reading skills are needed in some places as old signposts stating ‘Footpath’ (but no destination) often point across vast fields bearing no obvious sign of a path.

settle penyghent — View of Penyghent from near Wham

There were hazy views of Penyghent and Ingleborough to remind me that I was in the western Dales, but you can easily imagine being in the undulating Yorkshire Wolds. Unfortunately, the walk was spoiled for me when the line ‘wake me up before you go-go’ got into my head around Wham and stuck with me for the rest of the journey.

settle farmer — Farming near Yorkshire’s Rome

Just a gentle stroll in Thursday’s sun around Thorns Gill. The water was low and inviting; the pools the colour of Wainwright’s Gold beer.

Whernside, Ingleborough and Park Fell stood out against the blue sky, not yet in their green summer coats – the nights are still very cold here. There are signs, however, that some bushes and trees are starting to bud.

OK, just one more cute lamb shot and that’s yer lot this spring.

settle panorama — Settle panorama seen from Cleatop Park

I started the blog telling you about Cleatop Park didn’t I? Well that was Friday. I love the views on this walk – the Ribblesdale panorama includes all three peaks (it’s the 62nd Annual 3 Peaks Race is next Saturday, by the way) – but my aim was really to try capture bluebells in the wood at Cleatop. Alas, too early; just a few brave souls peaking through here. I’ll be back to see them and the wild garlic.

I also had a delightful drive around Dentdale this week but I’ve already prattled on too much so I’ll save that for another blog.

A tourist went into a Yorkshire department store and asked where he could find towels. They gave him directions to the bird sanctuary.

settle church corner — A sunny corner of St John’s church, Langcliffe, Ribblesdale, earlier in the week

A Yorkshire gem and Yorkshire gold

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).

Yorkshire Whernside — 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!

Yorkshire Ingleborough — 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?

Dales sunrise or sunset? You choose

This isn’t the crispest shot I’ve ever taken – a hand-held zoom in poor light – but a beautiful reminder of exactly what I saw as I drove along the Settle to Malham road in the Dales before people began to fill up the day. The photo was taken at 5.45am on Friday near the brow of the pass between Ribblesdale and Malhamdale. The temperature gauge in the car read -1 deg. Facing me, a glorious blood-orange horizon with a tiny strip of the tarn sparkling out of the gloom. I motored on and stopped at the tarn to watch the sunrise.

Gradually the colour of the surrounding hills began to redden. Although the tarn remained shaded from the rising sun for a while, the water weakly reflected the hue of the transforming hillsides; the lake was still and cold. The peaty ground crunched gently as I walked around the tarn’s edge. The previous day’s puddles wore a thin veil of ice.
A curlew called and a pair of peewits were up, whirring about above my head. Four geese in an unruly line barked like dogs, their conversation echoing round the natural bowl as if in an empty swimming pool. There was a faint rustling then a flash of colour as a grouse scuttled off just two yards from my feet. A nervous lone rabbit scanned the scene before hopping it. In the adjoining field a group of sheep remained seated on their warm patches of moor, chewing and wondering whether it was time to get up. Black silhouettes of cattle stood on a dark distant hill like a hastily arranged background for a school play.

Suddenly, the bright new sun popped up from behind a thicket on the horizon. I couldn’t look at it without damaging my eyes but I pointed the camera in the general direction and hoped for the best. Once again the Sun had successfully made its way up Mastiles Lane from Wharfedale and was about to head over the hill to Ribblesdale.

I left the dreamy scene and drove slowly back towards Langcliffe, watching the dales country waking up as the sun followed me home, first lighting up the eastern side of Penyghent and Plover Hill.

The higher slopes of the distant Ingleborough were next to be illuminated, then the western slopes of Ribblesdale: Little Stainforth, Smearsett Scar. Giggleswick Scar swapped a miserable grey coat for a nice creamy number.

I’ve taken many shots of the setting sun from Winskill Stones but this young light is very different – harsher. Now, in spring, each day the sun shines here the scene becomes greener and fresher.
Is the sunrise better than the sunset in the dales? From a photographic point of view I have no preference – they’re just different. Philosophically, is the birth of a new day with its promises and hopes preferable to the death of the day which may have brought us joy and good memories, or perhaps stress and sadness? Sunrise every time for me this time. What do you think? Below is a sunset photo of Ribblesdale taken last week.

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Since semi-retirement I’ve changed my sleeping habits by going to bed and also rising later than I used to. On work days I would regularly roll out of my pit at 6am – I think it stems back to early teenage years …Dad got up at 5am to go to t’ mill, and he would wake me so I could do my morning paper round before school. Perhaps we should all wake up at dawn, shake hands with the Sun and say ‘thanks for providing another day’.

Folly exhibitions

I visited one of my favourite buildings, The Folly in Settle this week to see the two latest exhibitions. Many locals were there talking to each other about how the town used to be. The ‘Back in Settle’ exhibition is a collection of old photos from the area inspired by a Facebook group set up by Mick Harrison https://www.facebook.com/groups/backinsettle/

‘1916: Chronicles of Courage’ is the third in The Folly’s series of World War One exhibitions and highlights the part local dales people played in the war. Not long ago I researched the part my own family played in the war. This large bronze medallion – a Dead Man’s Penny, as they were known – was given in honour of one of my granddad’s brothers (he didn’t have a wife or any children) and it is now in my possession. There were more than 1,355,000 plaques issued – a sobering thought.
For more details of the exhibitions visit http://www.ncbpt.org.uk/folly/

Dales weather

Yesterday morning I was admiring the pink blossom sprouting on a neighbour’s tree under a warm blue sky; in the evening I witnessed some very sad daffodils, their heads hanging low under the weight of heavy snow. That’s dales weather for you.

Yorkshire walls of fame

Looking through the Yorkshire photos in my archive I shouldn’t have been surprised over how many shots feature walls and barns. Foregrounds, backgrounds or the main focus of attention, the skill of the stonemason is often on show. Perhaps there’s something in my genetic make-up – for in among my family history of weavers and farmers is also a long line of stonemasons. But I reckon the reason so many pictures include walls and barns is not down to genes or the volume in the area. It’s down to the fact that they look good: photogenic works of art. A perfect subject for that book I’m going to write or that exhibition I’m going to put on but both of which I’ll never get round to.

As mentioned in previous blogs, over my years of tramping the Yorkshire Dales I’ve seen an increasing number of barns being left to decay. I’ve noticed a lot more recently that are missing their stone-slate roofs. The slates are probably the most vital part of the barn – both from a protection point of view and that of value. Traditional slates are sold for large sums. Barns are being robbed of the slates by thieves, or sold by the buildings’ owners, or deliberately removed by farmers and stored elsewhere. I’m surprised it’s being allowed to happen, especially in the Yorkshire Dales National Park, as these crumbling buildings make the place look unloved and uncared for.

The Yorkshire weather’s been playing good cop/bad cop this week. Pea-sized hailstones clattered the car (pic below), and a wild lightning fork struck a nearby field as I drove down the Slaidburn road towards Clapham on Sunday. I’d been up to Bowland Knotts where I witnessed shafts of sunlight shining over Stocks Reservoir and blue sky over the distant South Pennines. The grouse moors all around changed colour like a kaleidescope, while snow remained visible in the crevices of Ingleborough and Penyghent.

Gorse is a feature in this neck of the woods and the bright yellow provided a lovely foreground for the view from a minor road towards both Ingleborough and Penyghent.

Thursday was one of the ‘good-cop’ days. Ribblehead was packed with sightseers and walkers. I headed further up to capture the view around Arten Gill – there’s never a train around when you want one to bring some action into a shot. Plenty of roofless barns to be seen, however, in these parts (see also third pic in blog).

Earlier, these sheep at Helwith Bridge mistook me for the farmer and headed towards me expecting to be fed. Yet another derelict barn here.

I stopped off for an hour’s wander around Selside and down to the river. There are some terrific old buildings in the settlement as well as great views up and down Ribblesdale and of the Three Peaks. Grade II listed Top Farm has a dated door lintel stating 1725 but parts of the building are even earlier. The postbox on the old shop bearing the former Settle-Carlisle railway station sign is an early Victorian-style box.

Around 60,000 walkers tackle the Yorkshire Three Peaks every year whether it be to raise funds for charity or just to say they’ve done the trail. The footfall has taken a toll on the iconic dales mountains, especially on the Swine Tail, the final climb before reaching the summit of Ingleborough from the north. Attempts have been made to fix the path but increased use and wetter winters mean that the best way of solving the problem is to lay stone slabs. It’s a costly business so the Mend Our Mountains campaign has started a crowd-funding appeal. Please help if you can – more details here: http://www.crowdfunder.co.uk/campaign/mend-our-mountains

Twilight added a yellow glow to my stroll around Winskill. Picture shows the outlines of Smearsett Scar and Ingleborough – oh, and a wall.

Vibrant heart of the Yorkshire Dales

Settle is one of the most vibrant places in the Dales. The brilliant Settle Stories Festival has been on this weekend and later this month the cycling tour of Yorkshire heads this way. There’s much more happening throughout the summer so if you are a visitor or resident please take a look at the 2016 guide to the area – out now with a downloadable or screen version available free from here:
https://issuu.com/2015welcometosettleguide/docs/vibrant_settle_2016_completed.compr?e=15917722/34455846

Ribblesdale, Lambs, Goths & Romans

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.

Light fantastic in Yorkshire

This week’s Yorkshire Dales photo diary is jam-packed — with pictures rather than comment. The Yorkshire light can be particularly good at this time of year and even though I’ve been busy with other things, I’ve managed to get out for the odd hour or so to capture some superb conditions.

The sun and the cat got me up early Monday so a quick stroll around the village beckoned. The frontages of three-storey cottages on Langcliffe’s green glowed in the early morning light – it was chilly but bright. On the mill pond two ducks danced in the sun and an abandoned boat conjured up a Famous Five adventure.

In the afternoon I took a short journey into my past. In my early 20s I’d tried some caving and potholing – I wasn’t particularly taken by the sport… views are more thing. Anyway, I walked up to Alum Pot and Long Churn caves near Selside to jog my memory of some of those early underground exploits.

I’d not remembered the stunning views to be had from this spot. The sound of water echoing inside the black holes out on the lonely moors does nothing to entice me into taking up the sport again.

Anyone else think that the dead tree looks like one of those things from a Pepperoni advert trying to escape over the wall surrounding Alum Pot?

The evening promised a good sunset so I visited Winskill. I wasn’t disappointed. There are good silhouettes of the folding hills to be seen here, and the trees growing out of the limestone offer some special foregrounds.

The Yorkshire twilight on Wednesday was gorgeous, too. These trees – on the old road between Clapham and Ingleton – caught my eye as they glowed vividly in the low red sun.

As the sun began to set Moughton took on a red tinge, then it disappeared somewhere over Lancashire behind Robin Procter’s Scar.

Yorkshire drive

I needed an hour away from the computer on Thursday so I headed up to Newby Head for a quick walk up the Pennine Bridleway which follows one of the former drovers route to Coal Road, with branches off to Arten Gill and Widdale.

Looking from here it’s tempting to assume that the name Widdale stems from it being a ‘wide dale’ but that would be wrong. The name means ‘wood dale’ for it was once covered with trees. The trees were gradually stripped out for grazing. Many will remember the dale being replanted with conifers but most of these have gone, too, apart from a few pockets which help with the spread of red squirrels across the area. New native trees are being planted now and future generations will be able to see Widdale nearer to how it was hundreds of years ago.

One hour turned into two as I stopped to admire the views in all directions… towards Dent, across Widdale to Dodd Fell and down to Wensleydale, and also to Penyghent and Ingleborough. Fine Yorkshire Dales all round me. That distant purple mist never really burnt off to leave a clear blue sky – but that can also be magical (see first pic in blog).

Peewits flying overhead, trying to guide me away from their nests, were making the only noise I heard.
Sadly, that’s all I had time for this week but mustn’t grumble – I could be stuck in the middle of London.

Owt good on telly tonight, Dickie?

Ingleborough: peak viewing

Ingleborough is once again the focus of my blog this week although it didn’t set out that way… A bit like the myths surrounding Giggleswick’s Ebbing & Flowing Well (mentioned in my blog of 06/03/16) the legend of Robin Hood’s Mill, just a couple of miles away, arose because of the area’s geology. Just off the Stackhouse road from Little Stainforth to Giggleswick, near the parish boundary, there is a hollow which according to local folklore was the site of Robin Hood’s Mill. The tale goes that Robin was a miller who worked all hours and even on Sundays. As a penance for working on the Sabbath, the weight of his clanking machinery sank further and further into the ground until it completely disappeared from sight. It was said that if you put your ear to the ground, you could still hear the millstones grinding deep below. Before the last war, cavers explored the hole and also heard the rumbling sound. Afterwards, the noise seemed to stop; it is likely that the noise was gurgling water and that the cavers’ excavations merely created more of a sound barrier.

These photos were taken close to the ‘mill’ last Sabbath while I was out working on photographing my patch – I wonder what fate awaits me.

The snow was still laying deep on the higher hills as I walked into Settle on Monday from Langcliffe. White-topped Ingleborough contrasted starkly against the greener lower dale.

The donkeys in a field above Settle are becoming local celebrities with many walkers heading up the steep gradient from Constitution Hill on the Malham trail using the sight of the animals as an excuse to stop and draw breath. They were sunning themselves against the wall. My comments on twitter and Facebook brought in hundreds of likes and retweets:
‘You see, young un, this is why we have front legs shorter than those at the back,’ says the top donkey.
‘But Mum, when I want to warm t’other side I fall over,’ replies the youngster.

On a clear day…

Later in the day I drove to Tatham Fells and then on to Kingsdale (first pic in blog) to view the majestic Ingleborough from other angles. The panorama from the Great Stone of Fourstones, just above Bentham, was the clearest I can recall seeing. The Three Peaks and Gragareth looked splendid but such was the clarity that the Lakeland Fells seemed within touching distance.

Back down in Ribblesdale I couldn’t stop myself taking yet another photo or two around St Oswald’s in Horton.

More dramatic

After a couple of days stuck mainly indoors I headed up to Ribblehead Quarry to stroll around part of the Ingleborough National Nature Reserve. Yet another angle on Ingleborough showed some melting of the snow had taken place but you certainly wouldn’t describe it as spring-like! Whernside and Penyghent weren’t to be ignored, of course; the limestone pavement and quarry rocks provided interesting foregrounds.

New life

The deaths this week of a former work colleague, followed by a cherished family member, has left me somewhat deflated. I was cheered a little by the sight of new life though in the local fields where lambs gambolled without a care in the world. So many new things to discover and adventures to be had. Oh to have that innocence of youth again. The lamb on the right reminds me of my own childhood – my mum was always having to sew knee patches on my trouser legs, too!

Seeing red (and black-and-white) in Ribblesdale

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.

That’s what I learned in school today.

Author: admin

A pain in the Dales

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Owt good on telly tonight, Dickie?

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Seeing red (and black-and-white) in Ribblesdale

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Dales memories

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Ribblesdale erosion

Dent days

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Settle ready

When in Rome…

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Yorkshire gold

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Folly exhibitions

Dales weather

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Vibrant heart of the Yorkshire Dales

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Ribblesdale lambs

For sale

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Yorkshire drive

Owt good on telly tonight, Dickie?

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On a clear day…

More dramatic

New life

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Ribblesdale sunsets

Ribble Rant

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