WALKERS :- John W, Dave, Paddy, Danny,
John R, Jim C, Vic, Mike.
With sickness notes descending like confetti our walkers were fewer in number than of late but those who came soon set off and were equally soon parked in the car park of All Saints church Higher Walton. Here the vicar, who's permission we had sought to use the car park, had thoughtfully opened the toilets. (Elderly gentlemen for the use of ???)
Leaving the cars we took a short cut through the churchyard and onto the highway before dropping down into the centre of Higher Walton village. Past the shops and over the Darwen bridge at the far side of which was the somewhat lacklustre (I'm being kind !) memorial to Kathleen Ferrier who was born in the village in 1912.
On the other side of the road was a slightly prettier tribute to one of Britain's greatest singers.. (I do mean the little garden not the fellow posing next to it !!)
Our route lay down this lane so after a brief stay we ambled onwards. The houses along the lane quickly gave way to fields on our left. Sadly the river bank and the hedges to our right were strewn with unsightly litter. Obviously the unpleasant practise of "Fly Tipping" had taken place on more than one occasion.
Eventually the lane became rather more bucolic though one sad little resident no longer needed to worry about it.
Having left the river we walked perhaps a couple of hundred yards before dog-legging back towards it. We were rather puzzled by the "barrier " tape on the next gate and the no entry sign.
However, just as we arrived back at the river, we discovered that winter storms had swept away a footbridge and council workers were busy building a replacement.
Fortunately our plan would not take us over the footbridge but rather have us turn to the left and follow the river upstream to the spectacular weir and waterfall at "Red Rocks" a local beauty/picnic spot.
Oh the disappointment ! Yet another cataract catastrophe. Powerful storms some years before had swept it all away. Nothing remained but a few broken walls and the red of the bedrock itself. Disillusioned and disconsolate we sought solace in drink. (Coffee !)
Here we are leaving the red rocks area with nothing but a rather tame looking river below us. The white patch (bottom right) is the map which John W is still scanning in the hope of finding some semblance of a waterfall. NO CHANCE !
We again left the immediate banks of the river and struck out across the next two fields which for the first time in months we found to be firm and "dry" underfoot. (dry is a comparative word. Not an exact description.)
The question has been asked "Why do photos of stiles feature so heavily in your reports ? " There is a twofold answer to this.
a. They are natural stopping points which gives the opportunity for photos to be taken.
b. They are rarely straightforward obstacles and can offer moments of drama and/or amusement which the photographer hopes to capture. This particular solid looking example was very wobbly hence a Meanderthal posted near to help in case of slips. You will notice that two ghoulish members having safely crossed turn to watch intently for "Accidents !"
Sometimes the inexplicable happens ........
Back to the river as a rather mud bestrewn farmyard had to be negotiated. Here we came across a "First" for our walkers. Bright Green MUD !
Leaving the cars we took a short cut through the churchyard and onto the highway before dropping down into the centre of Higher Walton village. Past the shops and over the Darwen bridge at the far side of which was the somewhat lacklustre (I'm being kind !) memorial to Kathleen Ferrier who was born in the village in 1912.
On the other side of the road was a slightly prettier tribute to one of Britain's greatest singers.. (I do mean the little garden not the fellow posing next to it !!)
Our route lay down this lane so after a brief stay we ambled onwards. The houses along the lane quickly gave way to fields on our left. Sadly the river bank and the hedges to our right were strewn with unsightly litter. Obviously the unpleasant practise of "Fly Tipping" had taken place on more than one occasion.
Eventually the lane became rather more bucolic though one sad little resident no longer needed to worry about it.
Having left the river we walked perhaps a couple of hundred yards before dog-legging back towards it. We were rather puzzled by the "barrier " tape on the next gate and the no entry sign.
However, just as we arrived back at the river, we discovered that winter storms had swept away a footbridge and council workers were busy building a replacement.
Fortunately our plan would not take us over the footbridge but rather have us turn to the left and follow the river upstream to the spectacular weir and waterfall at "Red Rocks" a local beauty/picnic spot.
Oh the disappointment ! Yet another cataract catastrophe. Powerful storms some years before had swept it all away. Nothing remained but a few broken walls and the red of the bedrock itself. Disillusioned and disconsolate we sought solace in drink. (Coffee !)
Here we are leaving the red rocks area with nothing but a rather tame looking river below us. The white patch (bottom right) is the map which John W is still scanning in the hope of finding some semblance of a waterfall. NO CHANCE !
We again left the immediate banks of the river and struck out across the next two fields which for the first time in months we found to be firm and "dry" underfoot. (dry is a comparative word. Not an exact description.)
The question has been asked "Why do photos of stiles feature so heavily in your reports ? " There is a twofold answer to this.
a. They are natural stopping points which gives the opportunity for photos to be taken.
b. They are rarely straightforward obstacles and can offer moments of drama and/or amusement which the photographer hopes to capture. This particular solid looking example was very wobbly hence a Meanderthal posted near to help in case of slips. You will notice that two ghoulish members having safely crossed turn to watch intently for "Accidents !"
Sometimes the inexplicable happens ........
Mike ! Could there be a better (easier) way ?
Back to the river as a rather mud bestrewn farmyard had to be negotiated. Here we came across a "First" for our walkers. Bright Green MUD !
Two more fields and we arrived at the tiny hamlet built around the former paper mill at Roach Bridge. At last we could see a proper waterfall or to be more exact a weir.
It is easy to see history with rose coloured spectacles and imbue such places with a possibly undeserved romanticism. Danny told us of a less than pleasant part of this mills history. It was originally a cotton mill and orphans from London were transported here to work in it. The cotton mill down Factory Lane in Penwortham was similarly populated. Sadly it seems, human trafficking is not just a modern phenomena. Hopefully it's future will be better as it is rumoured that the weir will be used to supply "green" energy to the newly built settlement.
At the edge of the last of Roach Bridge's buildings a rough track, claggy with clay, climbed steeply away from the road. Vic was rather taken by the size of the hoofprints in the clay. A medieval knight's "Charger" at least !
The writer was wont to wonder if the underlying topography had changed as our previously dry cross field progress now began to be decidedly wet and muddy. Our next gateway shows what I mean.
At this point the footpath turned back on itself and angled back towards the road we had left at Roach Bridge. As we followed the edge of a wood we came across an area littered with fallen Crab Apples.
The writer can personally testify that they were edible (?) but very bitter.
Out onto the road again but not for long and a right turn took us, once more, into open fields.Though the day had been mostly sunny and pleasant the exposed fields yielded a rather chill breeze and we sought shelter for our lunch break. This came in the form of a water filled depression in the lee of a wood.
Paddy admires the reflection of the blue skies in the small pond.
"Yes Dear, Fine dining at it's best Dear. I'll have to hang up the they're just serving the sweet course."
Surely that's not Danny on the "Naughty" branch ?
From here the footpath led over into the next field but there was no proper stile as John W was to find to his cost.
Crossing this fence was not easy. No stile meant that boots had to be placed on a loose piece of wire which swung backwards just as John was about to clamber over thus tipping him head over heels into the next field.
Much sympathy was expressed once the laughing had finally stopped.
Before we left the vicinity of the wood we were intrigued by this little plant which we at first thought was a solitary specimen but we then discovered lots of them. John W surmised that they belonged to the "Horse Tail (Mare's Tail) tribe.
"GIANT HORSETAIL" (Collins Handguide to Wildflowers)
Onward and upwards.... or rather downwards into a deep woodland valley
As the reader can see we were blessed with sunshine throughout the day. Even here as our walk nears it's end.. This pair turn around and immediately follow the path as it slips steeply down to a final bridge ................
............. before crossing one more field and arriving at Coupe Green and the longish road trek back to the cars.
............. before crossing one more field and arriving at Coupe Green and the longish road trek back to the cars.
A rather Alpine view of "snowcapped peaks" !!!
back at the church car park muddy boots were levered off tired feet and Danny was declared walker of the week for his quiet but ever present support to anyone needing it. Thoroughly deserved !
Further Photos....
Any thoughts ?
Vic losing his head. Again !
A familiar pose ??
Now you see them....now...........
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