WALKERS :- Jim D, Mike, John W, Harry, Paddy.
With several of the group otherwise engaged just five of us set off to Whitewell under threatening skies. Less than a mile from Whitewell our way was blocked by a landslip on the road and we were diverted through Cow Ark . We eventually arrived at the "Inn at Whitwell" where we parked up and clambered into waterproofs.
From the cars we crossed the road and began the stiff climb up the road leaving it after only about 50 yards where a set of stone steps took us into the fields. The steepness of the route did not diminish as we clambered the short distance to the first farmhouse. As we passed the farm we were intrigued by an unusual pathway leading to a gated tunnel.
J
John W. walked to the tunnel and found a large pipeline emerging from the tunnel floor. We were later told it was a water pipe taking water from Stocks Reservoir to Liverpool (?)
Onwards and very definitely upwards. Our path continued to climb steeply upwards leading to observations that such an immediately steep ascent meant we hadn't had any warm up time. Tough !!
Sorry about the white object. Have you noticed Mike seems to have lost his feet ?
The next field levelled out briefly and as we crossed it John W. (him again ?) pointed out the entrance to Whitewell Pot" which he and friends had descended and explored many years previously. The tight entrance had been blocked off, some years ago, by the look of it.
Just before our route crossed the Cow Ark road Mike detoured to look at one of the districts Lime Kilns.
Guess what came next dear reader? Well done ! you're right of course...... Coffee time. But where ? The field across the road was rough pasture indeed and not far into it was "Ravenscar Wood" and hidden at the base of the "Scar" (cliff) was Whitewell cave. As we approached this along a deeply rutted tractor track, we found scattered around, "Clay pigeons" some of which had not been hit (Shotguns) and remained intact.
Mike kept one and used it as a saucer for the rest of the walk. Not for him the balancing of his flask cup on a dodgy bit of turf. Coffee was taken overlooking the cave which was difficult to photograph through the screen of tree branches.
The land continued it's upward progress but now compounded by rough, uneven and pathless terrain. As we climbed ever higher we briefly stopped to peer into a small copse which contained yet another cave/pothole ominously called "Hell Hole" again it was difficult to see. Paddy climbed the fence and took a closer look.
We eventually arrived breathless at the top of the sloping field and climbed a very large ladder stile and entered a small but thick wood.
As we passed through the farmyard a delightful young farmer came out with a cheery greeting and showed us the way to go next. He even went back into the house to get the 'phone number of the gamekeeper whose permission we must gain if we ever want to visit "Fairy Holes " the cave we had considered visiting on a previous walk. What a nice man.
The wood had obviously suffered considerable storm damage in the recent past and the way through had been cleared, seemingly with chainsaws.
fallen trees littered the floor of the wood making progress difficult.
As well as the fallen trees the swamp like conditions underfoot made walking through the wood "interesting".
Once clear of the wood we at last got some relief from the continuous climb. For a while at least our way led us downhill. HURRAY ! As we descended to the next road we came across some broken pheasant eggs on the ground. albumen smeared around seemed to indicate that the eggs had been predated rather than hatched. Several dead pheasants encountered throughout our walk also pointed to predators (foxes...raptors ?) as they had been torn apart and partly eaten.
Our relief was not to last as more upward slopes lay before us. We skirted a large farmhouse and soon afterwards arrived at a narrow public highway. On the other side of the road our route took us back into dense woodland.
With knees in need of a rest and beginning to feel peckish once in the wood we found a comfortable spot and settled down for lunch. As we did so it started to hail.
The legend of "Bigfoot" is not diminished by such photos as this.
Lunchtime over we unfortunately had to make our way UP through the wood. This was at first delightfully soft, dry and cushioned by the deep layer of pine needles. As we approached the top of the wood, however, our path was frequently barred by nasty swampy ground which looked polluted and almost "evil". It looked like some kind of pollution but there was no obvious cause.
As we reached the top of the wood a stile climbed out into a field which was rougher than anything we had encountered so far. Deeply rutted by the passage of many cloven feet it was going to be difficult to traverse. Before leaving the wood we waited for a hail storm to pass by.
The storm over we clambered over the stile and plodded of in the direction of the "Spire". An extremely rough, pathless stretch still climbing steadily..... and then
SNOW !!! a real blizzard swept over us and all of us felt the bitter cold.... APRIL ???
The snow begins to fall on this ROUGH terrain.
Jim D (and the rest of us) takes a well earned rest as the snow continues to fall.
Just a few more yards and another stile and we arrived at the "Spire" a strange wall with no apparent purpose.
From here our walk once again led us downwards, this time over "reasonable" terrain, until we eventually arrived at another public highway. Here was the site of "Browsholme Hall" which was some distance from the road and hidden by trees. Only the gatehouse was evident.
Now we had to follow the highway past Cow Ark until a right turn would take us back into the fields. As we arrived at Cow Ark yet another lime kiln held our attention.
"Oh No ! not upwards again ?" " 'fraid so. " We were on the last lap as we toiled upwards a large and magnificent farmhouse on the horizon. Called the rather grand name of "Radholme Laund" it had once been the property of Matthew Brown a local brewing magnate.
Here he comes with the telephone number,
Another twenty minutes in what was now fairly relentless rain and we had finished our seemingly endless ascents and now a knee-wreckingly steep descent and we were back at the cars. Phew !
This was a challenging walk but the length of this report shows how much of interest it contained.
A few more Photos :-
Paddy at lunch time. The way ahead lies through the wood behind him
The phrase " As old as the hills" springs to mind.
I know a bank whereon the Wild Thyme blows
Where Oxlips and the Nodding Violets grow.
"Shakespeare"
Violets. but not "nodding" just keeping their heads down in the rain
"Those blue remembered hills"
"A.E.Houseman"
Another unusual stile.
Final stop to finish flasks
No comments:
Post a Comment