The Meanderthals: BLUE SKY THINKING ?

WHALLEY - SABDEN 8 Miles

WALKERS :- Paddy, Anthony, John R,
Mick, Vic, Martin, John W.

Three of our group, Frank, Danny and Mike were once again lured north by the pull of Helvellyn. We await reports of their Lakeland adventure. Those of us with less ambition (less fit ?) chose a less strenuous day and 10.15 am saw us parking up in "Spring Wood" Nature Reserve close to Whalley. We were soon on our way across wide, green fields bathed in glorious sunshine.

With the sun pouring it's blessings down upon us this walk was to be one of the best of the year so far, The fields were dry and the beauty of the countryside revealed itself on all sides. At the foot of the first hill a strange well or spring held our attention before we climbed the stile to continue,

Initially flat, the fields then dropped steeply down to a minor road. Here an old milk churn stand invited us to take our first break and the flasks were soon pouring out each members chosen libation.

At this point a photo was taken that the photographer promised not to publish. (I wonder why ?)
Coffee (tea ?) downed and off again to the interested gaze of several lambs.

The road rose steeply up until we came to a sharp turn and the footpath left it to start across country.

Almost immediately we were confronted by the first of quite a number of exceptionally "Des. Res." homes. we were to pass during the day.

Beyond this lovely home the farm track continued for some distance before debouching into steeply sloping and in places marshy fields.

Passing through the overgrown hedgerow seen in the next picture was a little tricky though Vic could afford a "little" chuckle at the expense of his taller companions.

The path, to our dismay, was to littered with STILES ! Those of us with less than perfect limbs and joints were not amused. Here is possibly the 4th one in the first mile.

Sorry about the ghostly patch in the middle of the photo. Think it's caused by flare from the bright sunlight.

Our path continued to rise up the side of the valley . At this point we veered from the true and legal path, following the edge of a large old hedge as it approached an extensive group of farm buildings. As we arrived at the top of the slope, old gnarled limbs (sorry I've used that phrase before - one of my favourites) suggested a rest. So Paddy succumbed.

As we pondered the next direction a helpful gentleman walked towards us to tell us we were not on the footpath and showing us where it was. (We were not far off the right path !). Once back on track we had to skirt round the back of the buildings where a helpful gentleWOMAN. Showed us the continuation of the footpath. Unusually it went through a rather smart horse exercising paddock. (forgotten what it's properly called)

We turned back to thank the helpful lady who was now with horse. (Personally not fond of horses - large unpredictable beasts)

This horse was one of more than a dozen in a somewhat bare surfaced field. All very calm and well behaved giving the lie to the writers previous statement.

Our route continued "Uppards". Now quite steeply, heading towards one of several wind turbines scattered around the district.

Here we see Paddy admiring one of his favourite countryside devices (this is a lie !!)

This well maintained wall (with ANOTHER stile) was typical of the well cared for appearance of most of the land we passed through.

Stile number 6 (7?) took us back onto a tarmacked road where a fellow athlete (a fellow WHAT ?) stopped briefly to chat.

Off the road again and at last the track led downwards as our target for the day, Sabden, appeared in the distance.

Steadily down through the fields as the thought of a good spot for lunch cheered us on. We discovered a rather (depending on your taste ) pleasantly philosophical little message next to a seat with a lovely view towards Sabden.

Over another stile and so on into Sabden.

LUNCHTIME !! Decisions, decisions. A comfortable bench with a backrest or a delightfully sun warmed stone wall ?

An enjoyable and chuckle filled lunch break as a bunch of old f**** reminisced about their schooldays. HOW DID WE SURVIVE UN SCARRED.... OH DEAR, PERHAPS WE DIDN'T

Lunch over and off through the village were we sought out the start of the Witches Way (long distance footpath) at the pub "The Pendle Witch"

This street is forbidden to vehicular traffic unless it would seem, your vehicle is constructed of an Ash pole and Birch twigs or you are local. Mother Demdike and Dame Chattox it seems still have influence Properly equipped you can fly down it with impunity.

As we "lumbered" down the street we bumped into the local council leader who told us he had been a councillor for 24 years. In this agricultural and prosperous dormitory village we were hardly surprised he was a Conservative (Put your prejudices away Mr Writer) He was very charming of course (I have to say that.)

Uphill again but only for a short stretch before we turned left and began the "downhill" trek back to Spring Hill. The wind which had been a strong and chilly blast in our faces was now at our backs and we felt considerably warmer. The quintessentially English scenery at this time of year is is enhanced by the sounds around you. The calling of the birds for example but more particularly just now the bleating of the lambs and the anxious replies from their mothers.

And at our feet, in the small pools alongside the path, the wonder of nature's annual re-birth came in the form of wriggling tadpoles ensuring the survival of our amphibious friends.

Throughout the day the early summer sunshine had been filtered by the luminescent greens of the newly opening leaves on the trees to produce a delightful dappled effect along our way.

The views continued to enthral us. Lush green fields, majestic trees, blue, hazy views of distant hills and all around bowers and banks alight with a myriad of wild flowers. The land in front of us rose and fell in gracious curves and always promised more to wonder at over the next, near horizon.

Earlier I mentioned a photograph that I had promised not to publish. No promises were offered over this one.

There were of course still more stiles to negotiate. Here is Martin skillfully dealing with this rather awkward one.

We were now looking for a farm track that would lead us to a road and subsequently back to the cars. But you know by now dear reader that our walks hold fascination to the very end. Over yet another stile and we stopped by a small stream (tiny stream !) to finish our flasks. As we sat we stared at the crystal clear pool. Lo and behold wildlife fascinated us again. Freshwater shrimps, Pond Skaters and Caddis Fly larvae entertained us as we finished our flasks.

And we in turn entertained a group of nosey stirks (in between calves and heifers)

One more field to cross and we arrived at the road. We now had something of a tramp till we reached the car park. Being Meanderthals of course, we always like to extract as much amusement as we can as we pass by and we could hardly miss this opportunity. So... we shouldered our pilums (pilae ?) and posed.

And so to the cars. The day had been so enjoyable however that we found it hard to bring it to an end and so settled on a comfortable picnic table to leisurely enjoy Martins ever welcome shandies.