BLEASDALE and the CIRCLE

Wood Henge, Packhorse Bridge and a 
Unique Saint  - 5 to 6 miles

Walkers :- Paddy, Martin, James, Anthony, Harry,
                  John W,  John R and Danny !

With the three amigos having returned from their Iberian interval a hastily arranged walk was on the cards. Not too hard a walk as they were still under the influence of Sun, Sea and Sangria (or similar) as was our latest recruit "Danny".

We met at Anthony's and after shuffling the cars we left for Bleasdale. By now the traffic was light and we soon left the A6 and it wasn't long before we skirted the edges of Beacon fell and dropped down into Higher Brock Mill and it's post office. "No Parking" signs forced us to leave the public highway and drive "No Cars Allowed" up the estate road to Bleasdale C.E. school where we parked and sought permission to visit the circle which was on "Private" land.  "Yes we could" visit the circle "No. we couldn't park -- but go on.  We'll let you." Thanks.

Just a short stride from the cars and we came to the isolated church of St Eadmers. This is the only church in England named after this obscure saint who reputedly chose the final resting place of St Cuthbert. Family connections to a "noble" family in the North East led to a local family funding the church and dedicating it to the said saint. A brief visit to the church was welcomed as a biting easterly wind was slicing through whatever garments we were wearing. The wind continued to torment us as we left the churchyard and followed the road upwards to our next destination. "Bleasdale Circle" a Wood henge nearly 4000 years old. Concrete blocks now show where the wooden circle once stood and a surrounding ditch has been excavating. Little else is to be seen. 

 From here our path climbed gently but steadily upwards into the magnificent bowl of the river  Brock's gathering grounds. The wind still howled around us but we were soon to turn our backs on it.  A blessed relief. 

11.20am ...... and yes, you've guessed it dear reader,  rumblings of discontent were to be heard emanating from somewhere over the valiant leader's shoulder.  COFFEE BREAK WAS LATE !  A sheltered spot had to be, and soon was, found.

 

"Brewtime"

 

Is Danny dreaming of building  an Ark? ........
...........Wait and see.

By now our short walk was well advanced and sheltering woods welcomed us out of the wind. The woodland floor was hazed by the gentle blueness of English bluebells not yet brushed aside by their more vigorous invasive Spanish relatives . Where is Francis Drake when we need him. Gemima Puddleduck is hardly in the same league and even our good friend Vic is, like our naval hero,  away playing bowls.......... Curses !    Scattered amongst the bluebells were clusters of the timidly delicate wild violets. A delightful addition to the charms of the day.

We now needed to avoid rebellion from the "coffee break plotters"  A suitable luncheon venue had to be sought. Just to our left a large farmyard marked the site of an ancient packhorse bridge as it took the original ancient track, now superseded by the tarmacked road, across the nascent river Brock. The farmer and his wife told us that the bridge was inaccessible as it was in a private garden and the owner was not inclined to allow access, - Humph !! They kindly invited us to use a sheltered spot by the river to partake of lunch. An ivitation we accepted.

Tucked comfortably against a drystone wall we ate our butties and drained our flask whilst being regaled with ditties by John (Highly dubious) and Danny, who  led us through the tale of Noah and the "Bird's Eye Maple" ( I personally find this a little chewy and much prefer "Bird's Eye Fishfingers") Danny's memorable and well remembered tale , one of Edgar Marriott's"  had us fascinated and amused. 
Before leaving we endeavoured to get some shots of the wonderful little packhorse bridge. A real local historic gem, tucked away and prohibited to the public. SAD !

 Our next stop was rather a surprise as we came across a field of mysterious buildings we could not readily identify. Tent ? Hut ? what ? On returning home Anthony quickly solved the mystery, discovering that they were in fact structures for "Glamping"  the latest fashionably holiday "craze"

  We were almost back at the car park but our leader gave the walk one final twist as he led us away from the cars and across fields only to rejoin the road and eventually come back on track and arrive at the transport. Our summertime treat was then dispensed by our regular "Camarero" Martin.

A moderate, unexciting walk but still containing moments of delight and interest - "Hasta la proxima" (Oh for heaven's sake stop showing off John)