MILES of STILES 5.5 Miles
STILE-ISTICS :- Anthony, Paddy, Vic, Mike
John W, Danny, Martin.
Our ageing band are becoming increasingly convinced that stiles are getting higher and more wobbly with every year that passes.
For once every arrived at our meeting point (Brock Mill Picnic Spot) on time. Off we went on what proved to a short , excellent but at times quite a challenging walk .
A stiff climb out of the Brock valley as we followed White Lee Lane towards Beacon Fell. A right turn as we arrived at Bleasdale Lane and then had to climb the day's first stile .
Vic needs a little "Back Up" to get over the first of several awkward stiles. Once over, the first field was relatively horizontal .
Once over the second stile ( actually a bridge ) we were faced with quite a steep slope rising up through a patch of woodland.
Look closely. Here is Paddy emerging from a dark stretch of woodland
Just as last week, over our heads, a buzzard soared and hovered calling out with it's unmistakable cry.
I feel I must point out that whilst "Beacon Fell" may be little more than a pimple In Lancashire's panoply of hill's and fells anything more than a humpbacked bridge over a canal presents a challenge to our ageing crew. (Desperate Dan being an exception)
To continue.........
Nearing the top of the slope is a memorial stone to Beacon Fells first appointed Warden.
At last our happy (now) bunch arrive at horizontal ground.
This looks like a promo shot from the film "Reservoir Dogs".
...... and then the rewards for our efforts........ a CAFE !
And even better Martin joins us for brew time 😀
Beacon fell was relatively quiet except for an exuberant bunch of kids from a school in Blackpool. ( this is what "Proper" education should be about)
Through the woods other sculptures add interest to the walk.
There is always an owl, They seem to be a favourite subject for woodland sculptors.
When we arrived at the trig. point a friendly couple passing by offered to take a group photo. Offer accepted !
From here several paths led down towards the Brock Valley and Waddecar Scout Camp where several of us had spent happy hours as young "Brussel Sprouts" On our way down we passed another sculpture (of an iguana ?) This one was entirely embedded with coins hammered in by passing ramblers.
Dropping down the side of the fell the larger range of Bowland fells filled the horizon. Not that we could see them in their entirety. Mist shrouded their tops. Parlick being a prime example.
As we walked on towards Waddecar we passed a rather swish residence...
With a duckpond in the front garden.
and chatted briefly with a bunch of friendly young cows.
Our way down to Waddecar was often heavily wooded with some small but deeply incised valleys.
When we arrived at Waddecar campsite we were greeted by another "Mountain". 100 steep steps 😢
LUNCH TIME !
How many "Old F---s" can you fit in a red telephone box. Again you have to be of a certain age to remember that "Craze" Sorry any youngsters who are actually reading this.
Leaving Waddecar we now headed back to the river Brock to walk back to our cars.
"This darksome burn a horseback brown
His roll rock highroad roaring down"
The opening lines from "INVERSNAID" by Gerard Manley Hopkins
As we arrived at Brock mill the lady who lived at the old mill happily chatted to us about it and the new parts such as the rather smart balcony cum Gallery.
Notice they still have the old Mill Wheels.
Then as we finally arrived at the car park we were greeted by rather a charming scene,
THE END
JW
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