The Meanderthals: June 2016

"Whelpstone Crag" 7 miles

Walkers :- Anthony, John R, Danny, Martin,
Mike, John W, Harry, Frank.

A neat and well constructed car park welcomed us to the tiny but delightful hamlet of Tosside. The car park was free but donations were welcomed.

With no rain threatened till late afternoon we set off at our usual leisurely pace from the Lancashire side of the divided hamlet.

A well made if somewhat rough farm track led northwards in a direct line towards our target "Whelpstone Crag". First, however, it was to lead us through a rather "interesting" part of Gisburn Forest which is itself part of "Bowland Forest.

It soon became obvious that the footpath we had traced on the Ordnance Survey map was by no means a well trodden one. At the first junction our path led off to the right but the way was barred by a locked gate and there was no indication that a right of way existed. John R's search quickly revealed a rather obscure stile.

A few hundred yards further on and we arrived at "Heath" farm which seemed to be security conscious having alarms and cameras in place. There was evidence of stables but not of horses and no people to be seen. In a rather run down yard we came across a large vehicle which your writer at first took to be a super horse box. One of the group was able to explain it's true purpose.

PHOTO OMITTED

After a longer than usual drive. caffeine levels were low and so a break was called for.

The footpath now led away from the farm and the map showed it following the edge of the wood. It immediately became apparent that few if any feet had passed that way in recent times. There was no indication of any path and the ground was sodden and very rough. We battled through this looking forward to the needle filled dryness of the pine forest which lay before us. We were deeply disappointed. Walking through the trees was even worse. Progress was only possible by stepping from tussock to rough tussock desparately avoiding the deep, chestnut brown, waterfilled gullies in between.

The only dry areas appeared to be along overgrown banks, possibly tumbled walls, and even then every step threatened to twist ankles and knees. ( The walk's leader felt compelled to apologise to his companions for these unexpected physical trials. ) When it wasn't wet our path was often strewn with equally annoying foot-catching dead branches.

The wetness was, though, being enjoyed by the numerous small frogs which, amazingly, failed to come to the attention of some of the walkers.

Passing through this short stretch of wood had become quite a battle and we were greatly relieved when we could at last declare "We're out of the woods". There in front of us was our first view of "Whelpstone Crag". Unbelievably ( you'd better believe it ! ) the ground underfoot remained as soggy as ever. It wasn't until we started to scramble up to the crag itself that it became dry underfoot.

At this point three of the group went missing. After several minutes we decided to go back and investigate. This part of the group had decided to take the more obvious path which swerved around the base of the crag before climbing easily up a gated path. The plan had fallen apart when they were led up a short cut which proved to be very steep and rocky. We would hesitate to mention Danny's name at this point. Hesitation over --It was Danny ! Clambouring up this difficult patch left Anthony with a painful twisted ankle.

Safely back together we simply had to ascend the last few feet to arrive at the summit and the triangulation point.

Yes..... up there Frank !

Once up on the summit the panoramic views were reward enough for all the efforts. The Three Sisters of the Dales were clearly to be seen with Ingleborough dominating the trio. Here we are are catching our breaths after the final scramble to the top.

The crag itself was something of an escarpment and stretched away to the East in a very Hadrianesque manner.

The chill wind at the top encouraged us to drop down a little into the shelter of the crag where we stopped for lunch.

Lunch over we retraced our steps a short way and then followed the curve of the crag as it led away from the direction in which we had come. Still we were dogged by the incessant wetness of the land. The occasional bursts of warm sunshine had now ceased and though still dry the skies were now solidly grey.

After about half a mile following the contours we came to a gate in the wall and passing through it we now began a steady if shallow descent towards Tosside and the cars.

The path had been turned into a stream in which some rather delightful little flowers poked their heads above the surface.

Water Crowfoot (Dorling Kindersley)

Our walk was now considerably easier as the land became much drier and we were moving downhill. Further evidence of the footpaths lack of use came in the form of gates that were fastened tightly with knotted bailer twine. Knots which were obviously not intended to be undone in a hurry. A sharp knife solved the problem. (We retied the gates - this time using slip knots). By now the tough terrain had taken it's toll and limbs were becoming decidedly "Fatigued" indeed an early bath was recommended by some.

A final stop for the last of our coffee. Here some chose to use the feeding station (for sheep I might add) whilst others sat beside a picturesque litte stream.

The stream was rather naughty though and made the negotiating of the next gate/stile rather difficult by completely swamping it and then allowing a profuse growth of tall grasses to completely obscure the path,

I think it says footpath here - Where is it ?

Emerging "African Queenlike" from the "Footpath" ???

This last short stretch proved to be the final obstacle on our path and once past it we quickly reached the road and plodded slowly up hill back to Tosside.

After walking much of the day in Yorkshire (Old West Riding) we at last returned to Lancashire.

Before leaving the village we paid a visit to the church of St George to look at the ancient pew we had heard of.

Then back to the cars for Martin's welcome refreshments and then the tortuous drive home.

A tiring walk with many challenges on the way.

Info:- "What's the fox about ?" The name TOSSIDE is apparantly of Anglo-Norse origin. It began as "Todsaetr" Tod being Norse for Fox and Saetr meaning "High summer pasture." This developed into Todsett and eventually Tosside.