Ribblesdale Archives - Page 6 of 21 - Scribble by the Ribble

Reasons to love Ribblesdale

I’ve seen Ribblesdale in a different light over the last few days – 12 photos in this week’s blog. I have also been taken back to the 1940s in Ingleton but those snaps will have to wait until tomorrow.

Driving down the narrow road from Helwith Bridge to Giggleswick one evening while the sun was setting, I saw some fantastic light down Ribblesdale – on Penyghent, the fields and hillsides, barns, trees and limestone.

One afternoon between rain showers I walked around the Winskill area above Langcliffe. Although the clouds were dark and low the views down Ribblesdale were cracking in the changing light.

Samson’s Toe and Lower Winskill in Ribblesdale; below, Smearsett Scar from Winskill.

On another showery day I (very slowly) walked up the steep track from Stainforth to a moody Catrigg Force. The views from the track back down over the village and across to Smearsett Scar were well worth the effort.

At the top of Ribblesdale I’d hoped for a sunset shot at Ribblehead Viaduct but was thwarted by the clouds. However, the layers of clouds made an interesting shot, the lower ones clinging to the top of Whernside.

After a few hours yesterday at Ingleton, snapping at the 1940s Weekend, I was back in Settle where the cricket ground caught my attention. What a lovely setting – one day there’ll be a match on when a steam train is crossing that bridge and I’ll get my ideal shot.

Flowerpot creations are starting to pop up all around the town now. To coincide with Settle’s Flowerpot Festival I’ve written a walk for this month’s Dalesman magazine. It starts and finishes in the town centre so that people can include a tour of the amazing constructions.

You can also see my writing in July’s Countryman magazine in which I reminisce about knitted swimming trunks. And in this month’s Down Your Way magazine I write about the surname Horsfall.

Clouds, trains, signs and poems in the Dales

A mixed bag of Dales weather created photographic allsorts this week. I spent one morning admiring the changing cloud formations as they passed over Ribblesdale. I had a few goes at capturing the steam specials up and down the Settle-Carlisle line (pics at foot of post) – a bit disappointing really. Besides been very late on a couple of occasions, the engine wasn’t giving off much ‘oomph’ coming up the Long Drag from Settle. I tried to get a shot of it passing by the old limeworks at Langcliffe on the return journey from Carlisle but got so carried away taking photos of the Hoffmann kiln (pic below), the train whizzed by before I got to the track – early for a change.

One evening I had a drive over the minor road from Settle to Kirkby Malham, then on to Malham for a walk up to the Cove.

The evening light was strong and the area was sparsely populated apart from some climbers and a few more cheery walkers who prefer Malham after the bulk of tourists have departed this pretty part of the dales. Have you ever noticed just how many notices there are at the entrance to the National Trust fields? I’ve done a montage of just a few of them …

Dales legends

Several years ago I was chatting with Bill Mitchell in Settle town centre when we were interrupted by two elderly ladies – as often happened whenever and wherever you were with Bill. He introduced me to one of them, Edith Carr – well known in these parts. I’d previously read about Edith’s life in the Dales at Capon Hall on Malham Moor, and remembered a lovely story Bill had written in Dalesman about her life at the isolated farm, and the time it was cut off for weeks during a bad winter (1947 I think). Two coincidences this week got me thinking about our meeting in Settle (I wish I’d had a tape recorder that day as it was a cracking conversation between two great characters). I drove past Capon Hall on my way back from taking pictures of Malham Cove. The pleasant evening light was shining on the old building – modernised greatly since Edith’s day but you could still feel the isolation. The previous day I’d been to Langcliffe Church to have a browse through the second-hand books on sale there (always worth a look if you’re passing) and picked up a copy of Edith’s verse, called Cobblestones. She moved to Langcliffe later in her life, where in her words she could ‘still see limestone hills so dear to me’. That line is from one of her poems, The Riverfields. I have strong empathy with the second verse, reproduced here:

A sylvan stream our Ribble here, gliding and bubbling on his way,
O’er moss grown rocks, through banks so steep, where golden catkins
Dangle on the bough of hazel tree and willows tall.
The setting sun glows red o’er all.
A tawny owl begins to call, his sharp talons hold
On twisted branches, gnarled and old.
As watchful bird its vigil keep,
’Tis time for man to take his sleep.
Eventide, the busy day is o’er, shadows deep pass over all.
Peace at last.

I’ll treasure the little book both as a reminder of my brief meeting with her, and the fact it came at a good Yorkshire price of just 50p.

All aboard the Dales train

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.

Horsing around outside the Dales

A stunning journey up the Dales on the Settle-Carlisle line took me for the first time to the Appleby Horse Fair. Friday had the best weather forecast, and the views down Ribblesdale, Dentdale, Mallerstang and the Eden Valley along the railway route were brilliant. Appleby was full of colour and character; travellers and gypsies greeted each other in a great range of accents, and at times I felt like I was intruding on a private party – not that it wasn’t a welcoming atmosphere. I’m sure that when all us tourists departed the real party began. I’ll go again next year and be more adventurous with my photography.

To help with loading today’s post, I’ve put the Appleby photos on a separate page here remember to come back for the rest of this week’s blog!

On Monday The Dalesman train chugged through the Dales in heavy rain. At a soggy Selside where Penyghent and much of the dale was hidden behind cloud, I managed one shot which looks better in black and white.

The following day I thought the rain would have strengthened Stainforth Force and I wasn’t disappointed. I timed the visit so that another steam excursion (above) was passing by.

I couldn’t get to Stainforth on Saturday evening when the river was even higher. I did manage to see the Ribble in Settle however …

I had a little bumble around Rathmell too this week (top pic in blog is one of the views). There are many underused paths here, small woods, streams … and llamas.

Has anyone else noticed that Settle is being overrun by rabbits? While walking by the river near Bridge End the other evening I was amazed at the number of rabbits in the school grounds, around the swimming pool and football pitch. In great numbers they can do a lot of damage here in the Dales to farmland and stock, and they also spread diseases; before I’m inundated by comments from animal rights activists, I’m not advocating their total elimination but don’t they need to be humanely controlled so that a proper balance is maintained?

New book review here

New surname here

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…

Dales for the soul, Crackpot ideas and the Malham Monster

A sea of buttercups forming lazy waves caught my attention. Young trees were showing off new clothes, and birds flitted busily and noisily along the hedges and walls. Standing there in this mini paradise I wondered whether the young man who callously murdered and maimed in Manchester had ever witnessed the delights laid out in front of me. Would he have nurtured the same hatred inside him if he’d been given the chance to see and feel first hand the beauty of Nature here in this countryside? Had he grown up with a vision of this different world in his head would he have taken on such evil advice? None of us knows the answer. What I do know is we continue to fill young people’s heads with violence and depravity via TV and internet; we play out futile and barbaric scenarios and conflicts on gadgets. Many of the younger generation are now learning about ‘life’ through manufactured media – and a distorted, corrupt and perverted media at that – or on soulless city streets. Government continues to drive children away from the countryside by closing village schools and local amenities; cutting funds for outdoor activities. Youngsters are corralled into urban ghettoes. I’m not claiming that places like the Dales hold all the answers to our problems, of course not. The peaceful world I’m so fond of won’t stop human bigotry or greed, or the acts of lunatics, but it can help to teach fresh perspectives and open the mind. I held my own silent moment for those unfortunate, innocent victims who have now been deprived of the kind of days in the Dales I’ve enjoyed this week.

Knowing I was heading off for a couple of days in London – yes, you heard correctly; me, deserting Yorkshire for more than a few hours (but don’t worry, I’ll be there with 40k other Tykes supporting Huddersfield Town at Wembley) – I’ve been gorging myself on the Dales all this week. So much so in fact I’ve too much to show in this blog so I’ll save some for next week.

I had a crackpot idea on Thursday, the hottest day in the Dales since records began (fake news that). I decided to walk beside the Swale – still very low at the time but no doubt swollen since Saturday’s storms – then up the hill to Crackpot. I probably walked less than 4 miles but was still exhausted because of the heat. The views up and down this part of Swaledale were superb and I took far more photos than would be considered normal.

The Malham Monster

Mystery dales bird

‘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.

Nakedness, monks and dry Dales days

13 photos. The cackle of a stream over water-worn pebbles; hidden birds striking out perfect notes. The sight and smell of wild garlic; bluebells gently swaying in dappled sunlight. A Dales wood is a delight on such a day. The few people I meet are cheerful; happy to be out and about in this peaceful haven, forgetting the world’s troubles and its greedy fools.

At the start of the week I was contemplating changing the name of my blog to Scribble by the Pebbles, such was the lack of water in the Ribble and elsewhere in the Dales. Many stretches of the riverbed near my home could easily be walked across which is very unusual as this is an area where water has traditionally been collected for meadows and powering mills.

One day I popped over to Wensleydale to see how low Semerwater was looking. The two large boulders by the car park (top pic) were totally exposed. I took photos of the naked rocks for posterity. In fact, I got a bit carried away with camera clicking this week and had a job whittling down the choice for the blog so I’ll let the pics do most of the talking.

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.

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.

Tag: Ribblesdale

Reasons to love Ribblesdale

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