Wharfe Archives - Scribble by the Ribble

Dales in mad March and democracy (14 pics)

A Dales March can roar in like a lion and leave like a lamb, as the old saying (roughly) goes. This year March didn’t really know what it was supposed to be doing: pretty much like the government really. Sadly, the shutter broke on my overworked old camera so I’ve not been able to capture so much of this changeable weather’s effect on the Dales.

One day there’s snow on the Three Peaks, another day gale-force winds charge down Ribblesdale. The river almost burst its banks at one point and there were also some T-shirt days to boot. Top photo: not the best shot I’ve ever taken but I just liked the stark contrast in the dale around Horton-in-Ribblesdale on the day.

Whenever it snows during spring I think of the Dales hill farmers. Their job is tough enough at lambing time without having to cope with freezing conditions and difficulty getting around the fells.

In her book, Yorkshire Heritage, Marie Hartley writes about one of the isolated farms at Ravenseat. The place is better known nowadays thanks to the well-documented lives of that lovely couple Clive and Amanda Owen and their large flock of children. (See my post http://www.jacksoneditorial.co.uk/2017/01/). Marie Hartley talks about the place during the 1930s when one stormy night a family living there had to take a poorly child by sledge to the main road and then on to Kirkby Stephen. Sadly the young girl died shortly afterwards.

We take so much for granted today: phones, 4x4s, helicopters, Mountain Rescue, etc. The Dales can be a treacherous place to get stranded. One evening this week I was driving back from the top end of Ribblesdale in a snow/sleet storm. Windscreen wipers were in manic mode. Suddenly the road was completely white. I could see no tyre tracks in front of me and nothing in the gloom behind. It reminded me of how quickly conditions can change and how vulnerable you can feel here – even in ‘spring’.

dales horse — Again, not a brilliant photo but I liked seeing the pony with the sun on its back at Wharfe (below).

Take care, son

Before retiring I worked with Tony Husband – a brilliant cartoonist who is also involved with dementia care. This poem, which always makes me shed a tear on reading, is from his lovely and thoughtful little book Take Care, Son: The Story of My Dad and His Dementia. You can get it on Amazon https://www.amazon.co.uk/Take-Care-Son-Story-Dementia/dp/1472115562 or from book shops for under a fiver – and it is worth double that amount.

Democracy? What democracy?

There are a lot of people banging on about democracy at the moment. Many believe that because they shout the loudest they have some kind of democratic right to have things their own way. They then cry foul when those supposedly democratically elected don’t ‘represent’ them.

Because of our voting system, we don’t live in a ‘dictionary-defined’ democracy. That’s why MPs will never truly represent the majority of people. For example, in the last election the Greens got 512k votes but just 1 MP, whereas DUP received only 292k votes but 10 MPs. The Lib-Dems got nine times that number of votes but only 12 MPs.

In the ill-conceived EU referendum, leave got 17.4m votes, remain received 16.2m while 13m didn’t vote at all. So when people say ‘the majority of Brits wanted to leave’, that’s not strictly true is it?

The voting and political system in this country needs bringing into the 21st century; Westminster needs turning into a museum and some of its dusty inhabitants should be mothballed. Rant over.

Evening light on rushes at Helwith Bridge.

‘And he had trudged through Yorkshire dales,
Among the rocks and winding scars;
Where deep and low the hamlets lie
Beneath their little patch of sky
And little lot of stars:’
Wordsworth

It looks like the end of a warm day up on Winskill – but actually it was freezing.

A different light on the Dales

16 Dales photos here. Did you feel the season turning this week? Is the central heating back on? When September opens the door to let in autumn we all feel the draught. It did lead to some lovely evening light on Wednesday around my Langcliffe home in the Dales, and I was able to take the camera out for a stroll …

Back in the mid to late 1960s when I was a teenager I often visited Stainforth Foss at this time of year. We either stayed in The Hut or camped in the field where it is housed as we undertook the Duke of Edinburgh Award. ‘The Hut’ was the nickname WRCC’s Outdoor Education Centre set up in the early sixties which you can still see in a field above the Ribble. It looks a bit forlorn and underused nowadays but the Foss still draws in visitors. While I was there one evening this week a young family were staring at the falls waiting to see salmon leaping. Doing my best impression of that old country character from TV, Jack Hargreaves, I told them it was probably a little bit early for the fish to be jumping. Just then up popped a salmon. I skulked away embarrassed, still mumbling about it being early.

Of course I didn’t catch it on camera. I also struggled to snap one of the many rainbows created by the combination of water and evening sunshine. There was a dead lamb floating in the Ribble by the old packhorse bridge, perhaps caught out by the heavy rain we’d had earlier in the day – the river rises quickly here.

Train of thought

I was waiting for this steam train to arrive at Ribblehead. It was raining and the west wind was blowing strongly in this exposed part of the Dales. The tops of Whernside and Ingleborough were covered in cloud and there were few people about given the time of year. Even the hardy train buffs were absent. Bill Mitchell once described this area as having a ‘frontier feel’. In his book, Summat and Nowt, Bill tells of the time in the 1950s when ‘the station had a harmonium in the waiting room and a wind-vane on the roof – the station combined its railway role with that of a church and weather station’. In 1954, 109 inches of rain were recorded here.

There’s an easy pleasant walk of only a couple of miles I do which takes in the pretty little waterfall, above, of Wharfe Gill Sike (off the road between Austwick and Helwith Bridge). From there I follow the path through Wharfe. The hamlet has some lovely old Dales buildings and residents like this horse, which insisted on showing me its ‘best side’.

Dales tree petition

Campaigners trying to save the 150-year-old beech tree at North Ribblesdale RUFC in Settle are ramping up their objections against the tree’s planned execution. They have started a petition on the website 38 Degrees – join the campaign here http://you.38degrees.org.uk/petitions/think-again?bucket=email-blast-15_9_2017_settletree_cby_blast

Dales art whether you like it or not

Sometimes I’ll post on social media a Dales photo which I’m particularly pleased with only to find there’s but a trickle of interest in it. Other times I’ll pop up a quick snap which I feel is quite ordinary that causes a torrent of interest and admiration. The reasoning behind these reactions I’ll leave for the social media gurus and psychologists to fathom. I hate to use the phrase, but here goes anyway … ‘whatever floats your boat’. This week I dabbled a bit with Photoshop on a couple of shots (at this point half the audience throw their hands up in horror, their faces showing utter disdain). But I don’t care what people think of my resulting ‘artwork’. For me, Photoshop, and any other picture manipulation method, is just a medium, or a paintbrush. There’s satisfaction about creating something unique – which you personally enjoy. And anyway, the forming of the ‘watercolour’ of the area near Wharfe, Crummackdale, (above) helped pass away an otherwise miserable day in the Dales.

Close to where I took the original for my ‘artwork’ is this small dales waterfall along Wharfe Gill Sike. It looks serene here but after heavy rain it can be dramatic.

You’ll need to view this panorama large on a computer screen to appreciate the detail – clouds are still hanging in the dale to the north of Gearstones, seen from the limestone pavement above the former Ribblehead Quarry.

Similarly, this one showing the outline of Penyghent, taken from near Colt Park, will be nobbut a black blob if you view on a little phone screen. There’s some subtle light in the foreground and I was pleased with the redness of the cloud tops.

I wasn’t lucky enough to see the aurora this week but did manage a couple of stunning sunsets from up on Winskill Stones, above Langcliffe.

On a walk between Wharfe and Austwick the autumn sky cleared briefly to light up this lovely scene.

More dales views

A few more shots from my stroll around the former Ribblehead Quarry… the first three showing the Three Peaks of Whernside, Ingleborough and a distant Penyghent.

dales quarry — The top of the stone bench mirrors the background shapes of Park Fell, Simon Fell and Ingleborough. The stone make-up of the bench also replicates the geological strata of the hills.

dales wallerjigsaw — I bet the waller was a dab hand at jigsaws

I popped into the impressive Village Store at Clapham for an open night this week. Besides sampling some impressive dales produce I bought Dalesman’s latest book, Bill Mitchell’s Yorkshire. Bill’s son David and daughter Janet were both there and it was a delight to see them both again. David compiled the book – you can see my thoughts about it on the Reviews page.

Missing the Dales bus for sunny delight

Rather than watch the Dales bus ride from Richmond to Ingleton on TV I travelled up Ribblesdale to see a sunset. It was well worth it for this week’s photo diary. The view of Moughton Scar and Wharfe hamlet when the late sun catches hillside there is always a fine sight. I sat in a lay-by on the back road from Helwith Bridge to Stainforth as the sun finally set. The colours and patterns were amazing behind the silhouettes of Norber and Robin Procter Scar. To my right, now in half-light, Ribblesdale and Penyghent looked like the red-grey dying embers of a bonfire. My thanks to the passing cyclist who helped make the top shot a much better picture.

Dales pyglatelight — Night falls on Penyghent

Dales wharfe — Wharfe hamlet beneath Moughton in some strong evening light

Dales sunsetslip — A different angle on the sunset

Dales sunsil — Silhouettes near Austwick

Dales carsun — My car doesn’t usually star in my photos so here’s its moment of glory

I watched the bus ride programme in three chunks on iPlayer. (I’ve never been one for long bus rides – I was often the one throwing up on school trips). When I’m driving around the Dales I’m usually forever gawping at the scenery and almost crashing – but with the TV programme I found myself looking at the road and thinking ‘he’s going to crash into that wall’! I’d read somewhere that this was a ‘real time’ trip along the route … well it certainly wasn’t: it took just about five minutes to get from Hawes to Ribblehead in the iPlayer version I watched, so unless they switched from bus to jet fighter part-way it wasn’t ‘real time’. And the journey ended at Ribblehead, missing some of those great views and features along Chapel-le-Dale.

Dales fromthorns — Three shots all taken at or near Ribblehead. The train one a reminder of this time last year when the steam specials were still heading along the Settle-Carlisle line.

Later in the week I parked up on the Kingsdale road for a wander around this peaceful dale. I also popped down to Thornton Force where lots of Dales holidaymakers were enjoying the waterfalls walk – I say ‘enjoying’ but looking at some of the tortured faces of those not expecting to climb hundreds of steps to join the green lane above the waterfalls, I’m not sure enjoyment was what they were experiencing. Certainly many looked as though this was their first, and probably last, exercise of the year.

Dales kingsdale — The clear water of Kingsdale Beck.

Dales bridge — Rain heading in from the west. Kingsdale.

Dales kingsdale2 — Looking up Kingsdale towards Whernside.

Dales ingleking — Ingleborough peeking out above Twisleton Scar, seen from Kingsdale.

Dales thornton — Thornton Falls on the Ingleton Falls walk.

A lot of my spare time over the last few weeks has involved fitting a kitchen into my tiny cottage. The building was obviously constructed before right-angles and straight lines were invented. Seemingly it was built by eye – unfortunately, the eyes must have been owned by the village drunk. Anyway, I’ve run out of money now so hopefully more time for photography and wandering around the Dales in the coming weeks.

Dales teeth — Did anyone see a sheep without its bottom set this week?

Dales gatesun — Late sun on a path above Langcliffe.

Hidden Dales, a racist & a rail rant

I don’t just take landscape photos around the Dales, although they are my favourite kind of shots. Sometimes I like to capture people working in the countryside, such as this farmer at the hamlet of Wharfe in Crummackdale (below).

Also, I like to photograph hidden places and old or unusual subjects. This old gate up a narrow overgrown path near Wharfe intrigued me – it made me want to enter and find out what mysteries lay behind (I resisted).

In my own village of Langcliffe there are many views slightly off the beaten track, such as these atmospheric places.

The late evening sun is a good time for a wander with the camera round Langcliffe…

A walk taking in Ilkley Moor and the Cow & Calf rocks on Wednesday was spoiled for me by racist in the car park. Had I been more quick-witted I would have responded more cuttingly to the elderly man’s disrespectful remark about a group of fellow visitors. Maybe he thought he was being amusing, saying something that might have been acceptable in a 1970s’ sitcom – or perhaps I was just being oversensitive. The people were out of earshot – I doubt the coward would have said anything otherwise – but he obviously thought I was of a similar mind to him. Nothing could be further from the truth. The visitors looked very smart and happy, obviously enjoying their important Eid festival day out. I much prefer to share the Yorkshire countryside with them than with small-minded halfwits. Intolerance of other people’s ways of life certainly seems to be on the increase. A general feeling of injustice, unfairness and inequality in society, created by greed and corruption and a quest for power by the few, seems to be manifesting in racism all around the world.

Anyway, mustn’t spiral into despondency and depression over the actions of others, there’s still a lot to enjoy in life and much beauty to be experienced on the planet, especially here in the Dales. Ilkley Moor – with or without a hat – was moody but enjoyable, despite the fact that I fell down a rabbit hole… well, not all of me, that would have had to be some giant Roger Rabbit hole, but one leg up to my knee disappeared. Going in at any angle other than straight down I could have been another Fell Rescue Association statistic. It did, however, create some merriment for my walking companions (friends, eh?).

On track in the Dales

Dodging showers has been the story of the week really. I managed to grab a couple of local photos as the darker clouds sped by. The flowers on this elder have recently blossomed (not sure if this is a little later than normal – perhaps some expert will let me know) and make a handy foreground on this typical Dales track near my home. The mackerel sky stood out strongly against the hillside trees above Langcliffe to create a nice backdrop.

A short spell of sunshine on Friday evening tempted me out for a quick drive around the local dales. Moughton Scar looked fine from the bridge over the beck in Austwick (below), and Penyghent briefly caught the sun – seen from above the fishery at Helwith Bridge in the first photo in blog.

I’m hoping for a good day during the coming week so I can amble around Settle to see all the creations in the Flowerpot Festival. There’s a good selection of photos here… https://www.facebook.com/settleflowerpotfestival/

Earlier this week I saw, and added my name in support of, a post on tinterweb concerning trains – or rather a lack of them between Skipton and Settle. Like many other people I find it really frustrating that there is no train after 8pm from Skipton back up Ribblesdale. This isn’t just because it prevents me from having a drink with friends in Skipton, but also because of the problems of linking trains for longer journeys. Having a last train to this part of Yorkshire from Leeds at 19.19 is ridiculous. I look at the obscene money being spent on – and the disruption being caused by – the silly HS2 scheme and wonder how can such a folly be justified when the current rail infrastructure is so inadequate? https://www.facebook.com/search/top/?q=train%20skipton%20to%20settle

Flood lessons, forgotten lanes, fireworks and Ribblesdale photos

The former newsman in me said I ought to go find some dramatic flood shots last week, but then I thought that would only be adding to the misery of the situation. Flooded fields, gushing rivers and waterfalls are often witnessed here in Ribblesdale but further down the valleys, as all that water looks for a way back to the sea, many homes, businesses and lives can be ruined as a consequence.

In Nature, every action causes a reaction. When us humans mess with Nature, be it through greed or naivety, we generally cause mayhem somewhere down the line. Hopefully, a lesson is being learned about what causes flooding besides awful weather: the value of flood plains and why they shouldn’t be built upon; the erroneous river-banking to increase landownership; the cutting down of trees which absorb water; the bad management of moorland; the slashing of funds needed for proper river dredging, etc. Our obsession with cars doesn’t help – we build roads without adequate consideration for natural water flow, create enormous car parks; remove gardens so cars can be parked… the list goes on.

In 2012 I wrote a Diary piece in Dalesman following some more dreadful flooding in Hebden Bridge – here’s an extract:
“ … many residents are partly blaming the management of the nearby Walshaw Moor where it is claimed that excessive burning of the blanket bog has been taking place. The estate owners, [headed by Boundary Mills businessman Richard Bannister] have also created new tracks through the 6,000ha estate which has increased the flow of water down the hillside. Sphagnum moss, Nature’s ‘sponge’ which slows the water coming off the moor, is rapidly disappearing as the estate owners try to create a habitat for red grouse which are then shot.
“The management of this estate has caused Natural England to raise serious concerns in recent years. However, in March, without a clear explanation, Natural England reached an agreement with the landowners over the estate management and dropped legal proceedings, including a prosecution on 43 grounds of alleged damage.
“Residents have set up a Ban the Burn campaign and are asking for support. They say: “We are aware that this is not just a local issue and it is not just about flooding. Sphagnum mosses are the main peat forming species providing vital carbon sequestration and carbon storage, but damaged UK peatlands currently release almost 3.7 million tonnes of CO2, equivalent per year of more than all the households in Edinburgh, Cardiff and Leeds combined.”

Three years on the battle to see sense continues, and the unfortunate residents of Calderdale are still suffering. This isn’t just me having a go at rich folk again. We could all do more… by protesting against stupidity and greed and offering practical help: simple things like helping rid your local beck of rubbish, keeping drains clear of leaves and other debris, making sure your garden has grass, trees and plants and not just covered with impervious Tarmac or decking. Rant over.

The promise of blue sky tempted me out on Tuesday. Mist hung around the tops of the Three Peaks (Penyghent below) as I drove through Ribblesdale to Dentdale. The simple old road bridge over the beck is dwarfed by the viaduct on the Settle-Carlisle line at Cowgill. I turned up the steep, Third-World-road between Dent and Garsdale railway stations where the views in all directions are wonderful. I couldn’t imagine making a living on these wild, boggy moors – it seems some have tried and failed. Returning home via Appersett, which had been cut off by flooding the previous day, a patch of blue sky briefly lit up Stags Fell as though nothing untoward had happened over recent times.

A couple of centuries ago, the main road from Settle to the west went through Giggleswick, Lawkland and on towards Austwick and Clapham. These places are now all bypassed by bigger, faster roads. The old lanes and off-shoots provide a pleasant drive or walk in lovely countryside completely missed by the majority of motorists to this part of the Dales. Those who travelled the ancient route by horse and cart centuries ago would have probably stood mouth agape at the sight of the mainly Elizabethan Lawkland Hall (a private residence with a fascinating history). Visit www.hha.org.uk/Property/568/Lawkland-Hall

My route was only just clear of water problems as I carried on through Austwick (pictured), and on to the hamlet of Wharfe (first photo in blog). The road back to Ribblesdale via Helwith Bridge was impassable the previous day because of flooding.

The following day I ascended – on foot – the steep slope from my house to Winskill Stones. It’s only a mile, but after eating and drinking excessively since my last trip up that hill I needed several ‘photo halts’. The light in the north-west was weird, probably something to do with incoming storm, while above and behind me was a bright blue sky.

A classic Winskill shot beckoned as that gallant tree, seemingly sprouting impossibly from the limestone, and Lower Farm standing out like a beacon set the scene.

Descending back down the side of Stainforth Scar looking towards Settle I saw that the mysterious vanishing tarn was back again. Geological features, ancient field patterns, the rolling Ribble and distant Langcliffe Mill show the development of this area.

Impressive as they were, I felt a tad miffed watching London’s extravagant fireworks on New Year’s Eve. Knocking on £2m spent on 11 minutes, during which time half of London’s population stood with camera phones pointing towards the sky, taking blurry pictures that will end up looking like the remnants of a three-year-old’s birthday party spread. £2m can be raised for the capital’s hedonistic event but ask for brass for London’s homeless or the North’s flood victims and people look the other way. Call me a party-pooper if you want, but I’m sure we used to enjoy NYE just as much before all this excess.

Ribblesdale photos

For my final photo round-up of the year I’ve chosen from pictures taken between September and November inclusive. I’ve not included December as most can be viewed in recent posts. Have a happy new year and thanks for dropping by.