Thursday 8 September 2016

A GAME OF TWO HALVES

SCORTON 7.5 Miles

Walkers :- Paddy, Mick, John R, Martin, 
                  Anthony, Danny, John W.

By the time we parked in Scorton the forecast rain was beating steadily upon car roofs. Waterproofs were quickly donned and off we went. Uphill, past the church and over the motorway.

Parked up in Scorton.

Once over the motorway and out of the village the road bent to the left as it  headed towards wyresdale Park and the first of the numerous lakes we were to pass. We were tempted by the estates cafe ("The Apple" ?) but resisted and walked past. Shortly afterwards our decision was mocked by a store of super-sized "Black Puddings".


A little further on we arrived at very well appointed group of dwellings with some "magnificent"  wrought iron work. "Foxholes".  As we approached a well manicured and coiffed lady politely but firmly directed us down a "Concrete" alleyway which weaved its claustrophobic and high-walled way between the buildings ( it was also inches deep in muddy water. ) before spitting us out into open fields.

 Looking back to the house from the end of the alley.

Coffee time had arrived but the fields before us were wet and windswept and offered little shelter so we continued towards the woodland beyond.  Once inside the woods the path continued to be wet and unwelcoming. The small lake beside us was green and decidedly "unpretty". The search for a coffee spot continued.  Anthony had passed this way before and knew of a shelter next to a rather more attractive lake. The search continued. At last we found a spot. It was barely acceptable but caffeine levels were dangerously low. 


Not  exactly a "Lyons" coffee house as you can see and it did not improve.  This track, in the middle of nowhere, suddenly assumed the character of a busy highway and we had to leap to our feet and get out of the way as a succession of vehicles rumbled past us.  Mick and Danny ( below ) were comfortably seated OFF the track.


Coffee consumed we set off along the path only for Anthony to realise that we were not following John's planned route. Once again we had made the mistake of assuming the obvious route was the one we should take. No ! No ! No !  A friendly local emerged from the caravan park we were passing and told us that the right path left the track just BEFORE we had stopped for coffee. A short backtrack and there it was,  almost totally invisible through the bushes and trees. 

 
Once again our path through the woods was well defined but wet and muddy and caused our group to stretch away from each other as we walked onwards, 


Here are Martin and John are bringing up the rear as we emerge from the wood ( John ! the rear ? )

Once clear of the woods the weather also began to clear and the sun  broke through the clouds. All at once the lakes, which before had appeared damp and dismal, suddenly became magically attractive. 

A couple more fields and we arrived at the seated and sheltered spot that Anthony had promised us. 



 Not only a comfortable spot for lunch but also a spot with floral decoration in the form of both white and pink cyclamens hidden in the grassy banks.


As we finished our lunch and set off again we were once again beguiled by an obvious way forward which WASN'T.  For the second time we retraced our steps (only a short distance of course) and crossed a narrow bridge leading us out onto the highway.

 A scene from the "Great Escape". 

A short distance along the road and we arrived at a bridge over the River Wyre,

Over the bridge we found a promise of better weather ahead.


But yet another wet woodland path led us down the River Wyre which flowed between two separate lakes, 


till it eventually brought us to a large caravan site which we had to pass through. 


Out into the fields again, which though very attractive in the afternoon sunshine were STILL sodden and wet underfoot.

  
On the other side of this field was a large complex - "Guys",  an activity centre which belonged to the Girl Guide Association (are they still called that ? ) and welcomed us as we left. 


Ahead of us lay a quite spectacular footbridge over the motorway which roared below us as we crossed.












Once over the motorway  a pleasant (but still wet) field led us back to the banks of the river Wyre which we would follow back into Scorton.  First a short breather and a chance to finish off our flasks.
 


Before reaching Scorton, however, we did it again .... followed the OBVIOUS  rather than the TRUE path.  A short backtrack and a cut through the hedge at the side and we were back on course. 
And so back into Scorton. Above John's head a reminder that the "Penwortham Powerhouse" must control his speed.


 And so ended an unexpectedly wet walk but then perhaps the abundance of small lakes should  have warned us that the area was subject to inundation.
 
And of course the "Shandy Man" cometh thanks ! 

A few unused photos...




 "This is a stick up"    Oh dear ! groan groan.


 

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