Walkers :- Paddy, Anthony, Danny, John W, Mick,
Jim C, Jim D, David, John R, Mike, Vic.
The day dawned dull, grey and drizzly but were we downhearted - yes a bit ! Nonetheless we set off on our way to park in Slaidburn. This ancient little village is often overlooked as people drive through on their way to other places.
We were hardly any better though as we quickly walked through the centre and away into the countryside.
As the road climbed out of the northern edge of the village we slipped down a narrow path which a sign told us was part of the route taken by the hapless Lancashire Witches on their way to trial in Lancaster.
Rather damp. We need a gamp.
(others managed to survive without brollies !!!!)
In spite of the above photo the weather gradually began to improve. Still rather blustery and chilly but not too wet. After quite a lengthy car ride coffee time arrived soon and a sheltering wall was sought for our break.
Through the gate seen in the photo the ground rose gently before us. As we reached the top of the field a sharp right turn took us briefly along a green lane which led us into a farmyard with the unusual title "Mytrons". We did not linger here but after noting the old stone cheese press we "pressed" on.
Spilling out of the farm yard and spreading out into the fields were perhaps as many as fifty pieces of farm equipment. Nearly all of them "Foragers". Much of it rusting away.
We could only suppose that many of the machines were "Scrappers" and belonged to a contractor who was using those that still worked.
Just beyond the farm we rejoined the tarmacked road taking us to the next farm. Here just a single piece of derelict equipment caught our eyes or..... perhaps we had come across the caravan that Vic has recently purchased . He said not !
From here the road led steadily, even relentlessly uphill towards the moors. Danny and John R, being VERY fit, ploughed on upwards leaving the rest of us in their wake. A mistake ! It was now lunchtime and a chill breeze had struck up again (it always does) . Once on the moor there would be no shelter from the wind. The trailing group were passing a deep, dry gully next to the road. "Come back you two. We're stopping here." and here we are. Stopped.
Lunch over we carried on up to the moors. Here, much to our pleasant surprise instead of a rough path we found a broad, well shod track to follow.
This track took us gently upwards into the wild almost desolate uplands of Croasdale (I almost added valley but "dale" means valley).
After perhaps a mile we left the BROAD and took to the NARROW...... and didn't we just !! Our journey so far had been comfortable. Not now ! A single, grassy track led gently then steeply down, past the ruined Croasdale House (Just a pile of rocks) towards the brook where the terrain got soggier and soggier.
All the while we were being closely watched by a rather serene herd of "Belted Galloway" beef cattle.
After much squelching and directional indecision we at last arrived on the banks of Croasdale Brook. Paddy at this point decided to risk crossing to the other side. This was met with consternation by the group as a crossing point was indicated on the map a little further down.
Crossings were being made safely but then glee and joy unconfined .... Our octogenarian member decided to take a different route - and fell in !!!
We were of course very concerned and relieved that he was unhurt (other than his dignity)
Having crossed the "Rubicon" our path did not improve. Thickly growing reeds and deep mud-filled gulleys made our progress even more laborious. It wasn't too hard a decision to take a break and finish our flasks.
"Over the fields and far away" lay our final destination. First, however, the BIG stile.
The ground now rose quite steeply. The walk was determined to extract the last ounce (gramme ?) of energy before it relaxed it's grip.
Through a fine stand of tall trees at the top of the rise and all that remained was a steep descent into Slaidburn and the cars.
An excellent but VERY tiring walk. I am sure dear readers that there was more to record from this incident packed walk but it is nearly midnight and your writer is tired . GOODNIGHT !
Good Morning, back again...
Further Photos :-
a few yards along the farm track a stile showed us the way we needed to go. We missed it ! Realising our mistake we turned back and went through the gate next to the stile and carried on. As we approached the next farm, "Lanshaw" we could scarcely believe what we could see.
Spilling out of the farm yard and spreading out into the fields were perhaps as many as fifty pieces of farm equipment. Nearly all of them "Foragers". Much of it rusting away.
We could only suppose that many of the machines were "Scrappers" and belonged to a contractor who was using those that still worked.
Just beyond the farm we rejoined the tarmacked road taking us to the next farm. Here just a single piece of derelict equipment caught our eyes or..... perhaps we had come across the caravan that Vic has recently purchased . He said not !
From here the road led steadily, even relentlessly uphill towards the moors. Danny and John R, being VERY fit, ploughed on upwards leaving the rest of us in their wake. A mistake ! It was now lunchtime and a chill breeze had struck up again (it always does) . Once on the moor there would be no shelter from the wind. The trailing group were passing a deep, dry gully next to the road. "Come back you two. We're stopping here." and here we are. Stopped.
Lunch over we carried on up to the moors. Here, much to our pleasant surprise instead of a rough path we found a broad, well shod track to follow.
This track took us gently upwards into the wild almost desolate uplands of Croasdale (I almost added valley but "dale" means valley).
After perhaps a mile we left the BROAD and took to the NARROW...... and didn't we just !! Our journey so far had been comfortable. Not now ! A single, grassy track led gently then steeply down, past the ruined Croasdale House (Just a pile of rocks) towards the brook where the terrain got soggier and soggier.
All the while we were being closely watched by a rather serene herd of "Belted Galloway" beef cattle.
After much squelching and directional indecision we at last arrived on the banks of Croasdale Brook. Paddy at this point decided to risk crossing to the other side. This was met with consternation by the group as a crossing point was indicated on the map a little further down.
Paddy takes a precarious path.
In the end it appeared that Paddy's decision to cross early was rather good as the "Official" crossing was worse. Not particularly deep but very slippery. The photographer (writer) offers no excuse for taking so many photos. He had the rather sadistic hope that someone would fall in and provide a dramatic photo opportunity
Crossings were being made safely but then glee and joy unconfined .... Our octogenarian member decided to take a different route - and fell in !!!
We were of course very concerned and relieved that he was unhurt (other than his dignity)
Having crossed the "Rubicon" our path did not improve. Thickly growing reeds and deep mud-filled gulleys made our progress even more laborious. It wasn't too hard a decision to take a break and finish our flasks.
A tired and steamy paddy rests and tries to cool off.
Off again and our path continued to be difficult but also offered moments of uplifting views.
The bridge in the distance marked the end of the difficult terrain. It also appeared to show us that a different, "better", path had been on offer on the other side of the brook. Too late ! We later discovered that the difficult path we had taken (clearly shown on the map) had for some time been superceded by a better one.
After the bridge a steep slope took us up and away from the river and onto a path leading to the new Croasdale House Farm. Half way up the slope Jim C found a horn. (Eb or Bb ?)
"Gimps and shepherds come our way" .
Beyond Croasdale House we again briefly followed an excellent farm track before leaving it to cross a number of fields before we arrived at Shay House farm. Here two delightful ladies chatted to us and told us how to continue our walk and warned us about a BIG stile. Here, also, a bridge offered the opportunity for a different Bridge photo.
"Over the fields and far away" lay our final destination. First, however, the BIG stile.
The ground now rose quite steeply. The walk was determined to extract the last ounce (gramme ?) of energy before it relaxed it's grip.
On the distant horizon can be seen Croasdale Moor (sunlight NOW) from which we had just descended. In the middle distance are the "rearguard" hauling themselves up this large field.
An excellent but VERY tiring walk. I am sure dear readers that there was more to record from this incident packed walk but it is nearly midnight and your writer is tired . GOODNIGHT !
Good Morning, back again...
Further Photos :-
"What are these ?" Wood anemones Danny told us.
Fortunately this was NOT a busy road.
Another one safely across.
Jim C and ......? (it's Paddy)
A final puzzle as we approach Slaidurn. What lies behind this little door set in the hillside ?
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