THE GRAND OLD DUKE OF .......

HAMPSFELL 8 Miles (?)

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

The route

The height profile

With our numbers severely depleted by  the holiday season we drove up the M6 leaving at Junction 36 and passing through a busy Grange-Over-Sands to park in a little side street  at the far end of the promenade.

Almost immediately we were climbing up a hill albeit the road towards Grange.

We crossed the main coastal road and continued our upward progress along the road leading towards Cartmel.  Soon after topping this "FIRST" hill we turned off the road and wended our way through a neatly laid out caravan park.

The caravan park included some lanes with overgrown edges and here there was evidence of badgers with several large burrows and well used pathways through the undergrowth.

 Badger tracks ?

Through the caravans and out again onto another hilly road before climbing higher still. We had paused to admire the view when a young lady came out of her garden and offered to take a group photo for us. "Yes please. Thank You !"

 The sign towards which John W is pointing says 

"Slow - Children playing"  ---- Very apt !

It wasn't long before we left the road and followed the footpath across a field.

to skirt a rather delightful golf course. ("Did I really say that ?" said our decidedly non golf fan writer) but before then we stopped for a late coffee break.

The sun, as you can see, is shining and and continued to do so for most of the day. 
We followed the fence at the edge of the golf course but at one point the path left it's immediate proximity only to return some distance further on. This was precisely at the place where we should have crossed the fairways. We MISSED it ! We continued for some distance looking for the path only to be warned off by unfriendly stiles.

As well as saying "PRIVATE" the stiles told us "Only golfers allowed" and that we were being watched by CCTV cameras ... Nice !

As we walked the fells of the Lake District could be seen hazily filling the far horizon.

We eventually came to the end of the fairways and to a fence with a complete lack of stiles. We chatted to some golfers who said there was a right of way almost back where we had started and so we made our way back to eventually find the RIGHT stile.

Over which we climbed.

Once across the manicured lawns of the golf course it was simply a matter of following the road down into Cartmel. Did I say simple ?  Very little is simple on MEANDERTHAL walks. A large thick hedge and chained and barb-wired gates prevented us from reaching the road. Not a sign of a stile in spite of wandering back and forth for several minutes.  John R eventually found it.  A very narrow affair tucked away behind an overgrown piece of hedge..... and so down into Cartmel.
Here we found a couple of handy benches within the grounds of the Priory where we stopped for a now rather belated lunch.

On one of the other benches we found a "Smart" phone left by a previous visitor. We handed it in to the Priory staff.
Lunch over we visited (briefly) the other main attraction of this pretty village. The famous racecourse.

 Be honest ! Would YOU place a bet with any of this dodgy bunch ?

Off again to tackle Hamps Fell the objective of our days walk, passing as we went the famous "ENCLUME" restaurant which had that very  day been relegated to "Second" best restaurant in England. 

Didn't look much but as we had not visited Fort Knox recently we did not linger !

As we left the village a sign told us the way and was perhaps a little portentous.

By the time we reached the top of Hamps Fell at least one of our walkers felt the need of a hospice (me).

Crossing the fields before the steep climb up to 

Hamps Fell.

As we climbed we found evidence of others who had found this walk somewhat challenging !!!! We were actually quite surprised at how steep the climb up this relatively minor fell was and here we are taking a completely necessary "Breather".

From the top of the fell the views were quite breath taking ('ang on -  your breaths had already been taken hadn't they ?) The glittering wetness of Morecambe bay sparkled in the afternoon sunshine and the hills of the Lake District gave an almost poetically blue backdrop.

At last the steep fell side gave way to a broad flat stretch of moorland 

and a left turn took us much more gently up towards the Hospice itself.

The Hospice can just be seen to the right on the horizon. After a further brief wait to catch our breaths we arrived at the Hospice.

 

 Super fit John R immediately climbed the rather steep and slippery steps to the top.

In spite of the sunshine there was a chill, stiff breeze blowing and we took shelter inside the Hospice (It's declared purpose) to finish our flasks. Here Martin produced an information sheet he had brought from home and regaled us with information about the building of the Hospice, it's benefactor and other details of it's history.

Leaving the Hospice we soon crossed the flat moorland before beginning the long descent down to Grange. Down, down, down we went with knees painfully registering every step. 

As we dropped down we passed through a piece of land which was littered with ant hills

After a seemingly endless descent we arrived at the main street of Grange and then a short drop took us to the promenade. NO IT DIDN'T ! The level crossing taking us over the railway track was locked and chained and we had to divert to an underpass some distance back towards the town.  AT LAST we had arrived at sea level. Knees breathed a sigh of relief ! It was now impossible to go DOWN any further.  It was now just a steady, lengthy plod back to the cars. 

 On the way we found our second lost object . A rather good cycling helmet had been left on a bench. We put it in a more prominent place in the hope that it's owner would return.

Back at the cars the ever ready shandies (Thanks Martin) were even more welcome than usual. It had been quite a challenging walk .The planned 6.5 miles had become more close to 9 + . A tough walk but one filled with interest.

Unused Photos :-

Think this is a Large Tortoise Shell  

(or one of a million similar butterfies - I exaggerate !)

 Harebells were scattered all round the grasslands.

 

Mysterious little buildings at least three of which were scattered round the golf course

Inside Cartmel Priory

The "Fit Squad" patiently wait for t'others.

Looking out from the Hospice.

 Looking into the Hospice.

It's all greek to me !

Down ! Down ! Down !

 More sheep spotting. Could be.....
A Lleyn or a Cheviot.

LOST AGAIN

SORRY ! NO WALK THIS WEEK

.....but we wouldn't like you, dear reader, to log on for nothing so here's a little tale.

 LOST AGAIN !

He'd climbed the stile and now he stood

Ankle deep in thick, brown mud.

"C'mon fellas. Follow me.

The path goes on , just past that tree"

"He's lost  again." someone said 

But followed on where he had led.

The path indeed went past the tree

But after that - a mystery.

The grass was tall. The bushes wild

With broken branches thickly piled.

"We'll need an axe to get through there."

"I've got my penknife. Don't despair."

"He's lost again." was on all lips.

As our bold leader, hands on hips

Stood thoughtful,  then removed his cap

T'was there he kept his folded map. 

"Aha !" he said, ! I see it now

"We've gone t'wrong way. I don't know how."

"We do." came mutters from the back

"I think it's time he got the sack."

"C'mon fellas follow me
The right way forward I can see

The hill in front is not that steep
The water here can't be so deep"

predictions  - both proved very wrong
the way they went was hard and long
The hill was like a mountainside
The water ?  - two feet deep and six feet wide

Wet and weary on they pressed
until they reached the "Mountain" crest
"HE's lost again" the murmurs grew 
No sign there was of promised "view"

"I see 'em now." the leader cried
"The cars are there.  Just down that side."
So down the slope with knees complaining.
Across two fields . Both needing draining.

Through a wood onto a road
Round the bend the doubts had growed (ouch !)
"He's lost again."  now spoken loud.
Leader silent. Head down bowed.

At last the cars hove into sight
But hang on now. That's not quite right.
A Merc. A Jag, A Porsche as well.
The leader whispered - "B***** H*** !"

Toyota, Citroen, Ford there should
Be waiting there. This don't look good.
"I think we've come down hill's wrong side. "
Said leader thinking "Gotta hide !"

Too late ! the group had gathered round.
The map and compass hit the ground 
I'll draw a curtain round the rest.
Just simply say "He did his best. "

He's lost again ! Ne'er to be found
Unless you search some broken ground.
Close by a pretty little wood
Where once expensive cars had stood.

THE END  .... of...... ?

"Fields of Gold"

HOOLE MOSS 7 Miles

WALKERS :- Dave, John R, Vic, Mick, Danny
                       Paddy, John W, Anthony, James 

After picking up Dave and John R as we drove out of Preston and through Penwortham, we sped along Longton by-pass soon arriving at Drumacre Lane. Here we parked almost immediately after leaving the dual-carriageway and were soon crossing the first of several wet fields.

As sometimes ( Sometimes ?? ) happens on walks led by J.W. the footpaths were seemingly unused and consequently  overgrown and punctuated by ill-kept and dangerous stiles. We clambered over a treacherously slimy stile only to be confronted by a narrow footpath completely filled with Nettles, Brambles and Himalayan Balsam. We battled our way along it before being cheerfully greeted by the owner of a rather swish stable complex. 
"What are you daft xxxxxxs doing. Climb over the fence into our field. It's much easier. " 
So we did.

Vic poised precariously centimetres over barbed wire.

Some of us retraced our steps to an easier point in the fence before joining the others at the stables gate. Here the helpful horse lady told us a tale.

 Large, helpful horse lady on the left. 
Below is what she told us.

The last time anyone had walked along that footpath was in the year 2000 when a group calling themselves the "59ers" came along. The 59ers were ex-soldiers who had to be 59 or over and be at least 5' 9'' tall. They came from Longridge.


No wonder the path was overgrown after 17 years. The lady led us through what could only be described as a "sumptuous" stable yard. Immaculately maintained with a large Bentley and other cars in the garage.   Before seeing us on our way she asked if we would like a group photograph taking. "Yes please." we said.

We thanked the lady and then crossed a road and slipped down a narrow footpath leading on to more open fields again.

We are constantly surprised during our walks at the number of houses we encounter which exude "Money". There is quite probably an element of jealousy here but even in these days of austerity some folks have multiple thousands to play with.  

 Here we see Paddy emerging from behind the garden wall (for keeping the peasants out) of one such establishment.

A couple more fields and we arrived at what appeared to be an "uninhabited" farmyard where a machinery store lent itself to our coffee break needs. 

As we finished our coffees and prepared to carry on we noticed what we presumed must be the home of some species of "Funnel Web Spider".

Leaving the farm we crossed another "wet" field before arriving at the next farm which was not uninhabited but looked as if it were. A friendly, if rather nervous pony, greeted us as we slithered through it's muddy enclosure.

We squeezed our way past derelict sheds and broken gates and came out onto a hard surfaced farm road.

we followed this until, upon crossing a bridge, we found ourselves in another upmarket  "Horsey" establishment. 

 
We stopped briefly to chat to a particularly friendly "Equine".

"What's that ? Speak up. All I can hear is a hoarse whisper."

 "Moss Farm" we passed next .... but which one ?

As we walked along we came to the opinion that delivery men must get very frustrated in this area as every other farm was called "MOSS FARM". We passed at least four. 

The next field we had to go through was narrow but VERY L - o - n - g . It almost seem to disappear into the horizon. 

...and we're only half way down it !

At the end of this seemingly endless field a kissing gate led through a patch of Rosebay Willowherb to where the next few fields held crops. 

 There was some discussion . Was it Wheat or Barley ?  After checking we opted for barley though we later came across wheat as well.

 Barley

 Wheat

"Among the fields of Barley" 
Where's Sting when you need him ?

With a stiff breeze blowing and the flat terrain offering little shelter we eventually opted to have lunch in a rather scruffy pull-in alongside a minor road.

As we ate "Mystical Mick" explained how to "see" your AURA !

We promised him we would seek help for his condition.

Butties bitten and flasks having flowed we set off to follow what at times was a rather dodgy road. Cars zoomed past and at times we had to squeeze ourselves into the hedge on blind corners. John R went ahead as a "scout" to shout back warnings. We all promised to "chip in" for a wreath !!

Leaving the road we came to the railway were a warning was promptly taken on board by our willingly silly crew.

STOP !  LOOK !  LISTEN !

 Anthony continues the "Silliness" offering to stop the train as we cross.

A Train !  Where's Anthony !

Once across the lines we continued towards the famous "Midge Hall". 

 (If, dear reader,  you Google "Midge Hall you will find that there is a station, a pub, a farm but NO HALL and apparently there never has been - unless you know better ?)

There is , however, a Midge Hall Farm and here it is with Dave posing in front of it.

 Bit of a nostalgia trip this as Dave worked here during his teenage years. -  a LONG time ago.

One of the gentlemen working around the farm told us that local "Legend" has it that the name "Hall" was a corruption of "Hole" as the farm had a well, one of only a few in the area. Not entirely convinced myself but a well there certainly was. Now being "Tarted" up.

 Out of the farmyard and back onto the road for a rather tedious trek along a narrow footpath.

By the time we left the road we were ready to finish whatever drink we had with us and we settled in the corner of a field much to the surprise of a landrover driver who, shortly after, turned into the field to find nine elderly gentlemen sitting cups in hand. He drove on across the field laughing as he went.

I haven't a clue what is happening here. Perhaps one of the gentlemen surrounding our "Praying" Danny can enlighten me on our next trip.

Flasks packed away and off on the last stretch of our journey. We almost missed the rusted kissing gate leading out of the field. (some of our more eager walkers did !) where a very green stretch took us through a very modern and very large poultry farm.

Our walk was nearly over. It was to end as it had started with us struggling to make progress along overgrown footpaths. Here we see "Jungle"  Jim emerging from the OVER-growth.

From here a final stretch along the public highway and we arrived back at the cars. In Martin's absence, Anthony had thoughtfully provided the shandies. and as usual they were downed with great enjoyment. Thanks Anthony.

One further comment. NO RAIN ! in spite of that mornings dire warnings on the TV weather forecasts.

N.B.   There will be NO walk next week 



UNUSED PHOTOS :-

 Danny looking far too comfortable

Water lurked just beneath the surface of the mosses.....

..........but a farm with a lifebelt ?????

 

I'm not sure Mick's claim to be a "Tyke" (Yorkie)  is entirely  backed up by the evidence. (...and he does "Pilates !")

The darkened glasses are evidence of "Some" sunshine 

Where's the footpath ?