Dolphinholme

 

There was quite a good turnout for todays walk. In the aftermath of the recent heat wave, todays weather was a comfortable high teens and cloudy.

                    Setting off, we passed the Methodist Chapel with it's squat tower.

The village is split into two communities. The more modern and more populated one is set on high ground. To get to the other part (Lower Dolphinholme) a right turn at a small roundabout leads to a steep hill, down into the River Wyre valley.

Half way down the hill, is the aptly named Brow Cottage, the appearance of which, suggests that it was originally a hand loom weavers cottage, with the top floor having been the workshop.

                   The old mill beside the river has been converted into apartments.

Before it's closure in 1867 the mill provided work for 2000 workers. It's waterwheel was said to be the tallest in the country. The old mill workers cottages huddle together around the bridge.

Leaving the village behind, (on account of not being able to take it with us)😀. we climbed up out of the valley and turned left along a farm track where some hens were ranging freely. John found an egg alongside the track, but decided against taking it home, as he's not keen on scrambled egg.

This is the spot we decided to have our morning brew. As we were sat there, the peace of the morning was broken by the roar of a 4x4 farm buggy as it came round the corner at speed, heading towards us. I being the closest and therefore at risk of being the first to meet my maker before my time, began to panic, but the young driver without slowing down veered off the track, giving us a cheeky grin as he passed us😈.

This scarecrow was standing guard over a small container.

Anthony had been doing his homework, and had arranged for us to have dinner at this farm where there is a picnic table for us to sit round. However when we got here the picnic table was no more, so we each had to find an alternative seat.

As we sat there, the farmers daughter and her very excitable but friendly dog came to see us. Anthony asked her about the picnic table😞. It turned out the picnic table got broken so it was chucked away.

Some of us were quite happy to have our dinner alongside the pigs. Someone said were not fit to eat with pigs, but Mike stuck up for us, he said " Oh yes they are".😁

The farmer turned up and was also happy to stop for a chat. He was around the same age as us and had lived here for over 20 years.

The buddleia were in full bloom.

As we were having our afternoon brew, two fellow walkers appeared crossing a stile in a hedge near to us. As they came towards us. one of them recognised me. His name is George Kirby and he's a distant cousin of mine. It turned out John W knew the other chap.

Before they left us, they took a group photo of us.

This bridge is in need of repair. Vic carefully edges his way across.

Anthony decides not to risk it and by-passes it.

As we were passing a gate, two friendly horses came over to see us. John gave them his blessing.

A herd of horses in our field, not wanting to be left out, also came to see us.

This is Wyreside Hall. I would have liked to have got a closer look at it, but our path led us away from it.

This sad looking tree, all alone and bare in the middle of a large field, was looking like it was in need of some love and affection. Enter John and Mike.

                                        Arriving back at Lower Dolphinholme.

                Instead of taking the road we climbed a steep footpath back to the cars.

When we got back to the cars, Anthony surprised us with cakes all round to celebrate his birthday in two days time. Thanks Ant and thanks for taking us on a good walk.

                                                                              DK

DOLPHINHOLME

 I SEE NO DOLPHINS   6 Miles

Fishy Folk :-  Anthony, Mike, John R, Paddy, 

                        Vic,  Mike,  Jim C,  John W.

Dolphinholme .... Nothing to do with sea creatures , it would seem,  but possibly a corruption of an ancient Viking name. Somewhat speculative.

Parking , as often, was difficult. We eventually joined the queue of cars waiting outside the village Primary School.                                                   

Dave Eastham was to join us but although we waited for quite some time and phoned both his mobile and his home 'phone several times we could not contact him. Sadly, he was there.  We just didn't find him.

So we set off and once again passed obstructions caused by "New Home" building. 

After about a quarter of a mile the road dropped steeply down to a bridge over the river Wyre and the mill (1798) and houses of the older part of Dolphinhome.

Whilst others look down on the Wyre,  Anthony checks the map for the next part of our walk. 

A steep hill down to the bridge so inevitably a steep hill up from the bridge and out into quiet country lanes.

Not long before we left the public highway and took to a farm track which took us past the local livestock.

A group of assorted "Tups"  (rams) came to greet us.

and a cheeky chicken came to check us out but looked the other way when it saw what a motley bunch we were.

Here's evidence of another cheeky chicken which had left it's mark on a concrete part of the farm track.

The size of the prints suggested "Goose" but geese have webbed feet ! The legs in the photo did NOT make the trail.

Now what is Jim doing here. Perhaps guarding the path... because.....

Part of the group had decided to park ON THE TRACK for coffee time. 

Don't know what Mike has said but he appears to be on the "naughty step".

Jim's guarding duties did not work   for in a brief moment of panic a young man on a quad bike came roaring through the gate heading straight for the seated imbibers.  Panic over, as with a cheeky grin and a wave, he swerved onto the grass to pass by them with his agricultural load.

Brews finished we walked upwards until the hard surfaced track turned right . We continued straight on to cross several large fields sweeping down to the river. We stuck to the top of the fields.

In spite of the heatwave the grass was wet from recent showers and no walkers can avoid contact with MUD.

As we walked we passed an almost artistic pile of logs.

A very neat "Woodpile" ?

A horse jump for "Eventing" practice ?

A very skilful "Beaver" ? someone even suggested ( I think he was joking 😅)

Horse jump was later confirmed (by quadbike rider !)

The numbers of sheep in the fields led us to decide that this was definitely sheep country. When we arrived at this farm our thoughts were confirmed.

A yard full of sheep waiting for a "Haircut"

On the other side of the farm however we encountered Pigs

Lunchtime !

Several members had brought seats and were rather disdainful of the seatless. The Rotters !

The seated "superiors"...... ahem !

The seatless "Peasants".......   even bigger   ahem !

John W had distanced his seatless self from this contentious bunch as he wanted to look at an unusual construction. 

The farmer who turned up as we were finishing lunch told us it was the remains of a tree house built for his children many years before.

One man and his dog !  And a very charming man and a very friendly dog they were. He chatted for quite a while about his over forty years farming this land after helping on the family farm in Wales as a schoolboy. He told us that as an English boy in a Welsh school he was obliged to speak  welsh so his dad took him to the cattle markets as an interpreter when he was bargaining for stock.

His daughter, Helen, also very charming, ran an out door centre for youngsters.  I think with problem children.

In the barn behind us was a huge log which the farmer's son, a Woodland worker, intended carving into benches for passing walkers such as ourselves.

As we left they told us there were lots of good walks around the farm and as long as we rang before coming we were welcome to park in their yard. What a delightful encounter.

This is what "Helen" does.

As we left the farm and walked down the lane Blackpool Tower could be seen as well as stretches of Morecambe Bay.

Oh dear . Pied wagtail ? Fairly sure but - Perhaps the tail is not quite as long and is rather broader.

The next part of our walk was through a fabulously wild section but  it was plagued by TALL styles. Those of us with long legs OK, but those with "Ernie Wise" legs found it somewhat uncomfortable at times.

Oi  ! Stop guys !   Has anybody left a hand on that last stile ?

The path through this wilderness was not easy to follow.

. The reward was some very pretty wild flowers by the side.

Next stile please .

and a slippery little bridge.

"Oy 'tink oi'll take a rest here"  says Paddy. as we reached the end of "Tinkers Lane". 

At this point Anthony turned into "The Grand Old Duke of York" He marched us up to the top of the hill and he marched us down again.

Here we are going back down again. This is not an uncommon experience whoever is leading the walk. Easily done amidst the chattering and laughing that is a constant.

Final "Flask finishing" break were we met two fellow walkers who were known to Danny and John R

They happily agreed to take a photo of the whole group which is not always possible (or maybe even desirable 😈)

Thank you friends ....... then off again across a dodgy bridge and tricky stile.

After a slight confusion with the footpath which was not where it should have been.......... 'onest ! we crossed two or three fields and then stopped to admire three handsome ponies.  

Unnervingly their larger cousins came trotting over to "admire" us.

They particularly admired Danny.

Which group is the more curios ........ in either sense of the word.

Just a short distance now to the end of our walk.

Past a dead tree ??

and some live ones

Final tricky stile

Back into Dolphinholme where instead of walking up the steep road hill back to the cars we chose to go up an even more steep but far more interesting footpath, (It was VERY steep)

John W and Jim C stopped to admire a deep gully (Take a breather ???)

Then a final treat "Happy Birthday Anthony" cake.

So to home after a very varied and interesting walk. Well done Anthony.

THE END

JW.