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Sunday, 27 November 2011

Addlebrough On A Fairly Windy Day.


A small but select contingent of Clan Knipe (me, the nephew and the nephew’s wife) gathered in Bainbridge where it was chucking it down, despite soothing noises from the Met Office about blue skies and it being a “breezy old day” There was no mention of the multiple rainbows.  We set off, damply. The River Bain was on the point of going a bit mad. The little hydro-electric screw thingy was turning at a fair rate and, presumably, producing electricity. 

river bain with hydro screw

The sun came out and the clouds went wherever clouds go when they die – heaven, probably. Where else would the angels sit?

We walked along a limestone shelf in a strip of ash and blackthorn and then on the road to Thornton Rust where there was more traffic than there should have been. Then we sploshed the draughty bridleway that sneaks around the back of Addlebrough in a nithering headwind.

stone trough of indeterminate age

Addlebrough, I should explain, for those not in the know and who just can’t be bothered with Google just now, is a flat-topped, neat little hill of carboniferous limestone and a bit of gritstone overlooking Wensleydale. It is blessed with some ancient cairns and some cup and ring marked rocks (none of which we saw) and some “settlements” which could be iron age. The outlines of these are fairly obvious from above and remains of walls and enclosures can be picked out. There’s also several legends concerning giants, buried gold, fairies and advice on not swearing or using any bad language should a fairy indicate the location of a chest of gold.

So, it’s a rich landscape.

look into the eyes, not around the eyes

We lunched in the only bit of shelter behind a wall. Bruno noticed my egg butty. I have a picture of him trying to hypnotise it…. A couple of lads appeared and explained how they’d been blown off Addlebrough by severe and dangerous hurricanes of such ferocity that in trying to light his pipe, the sparks from the over-oxygenated tobacco blew back and ignited the lad’s woolly hat - And that the ladder stile at the top was a windy nightmare with a wind chill that would make a polar bear shiver and that the g-forces involved in fighting against this maelstrom had ripped the very eyebrows off a fellow rambler and that they were off to the Black Bull to calm down and warm up a bit…..  This smacked of exaggeration to me.


A permissive path leads across the moor and then steeply up to Addlebrough’s flat top. It was windy. I took a picture, but the vibrations of the breeze on the arms holding the camera have blurred the image.

bev surmounts that stile

We approached the notorious ladder stile with some trepidation. It wasn’t all that windy, really and we got over safely and with a full complement of eyebrows (I counted, discreetly at the next gate)

By this time,we were starting to lose the light a bit, so we abandoned tentative plans for a hike around the local green lanes and a ramble by Semer Water for a quick and easy plod down the road back to Bainbridge.

8 miles is what we did.

Nice to see the rellies again…..

addlebrough 010

And… rest…..



Alan R said...

Good post Mike and you did well with the photo’s cos we wuv up top too yesterday and could hardly stand up in some locations. And thats not exaggeration.

Louise said...

Ah, Bainbridge. Many happy memories. Including a party for a royal event in the pub. (Might have been Charlie and Di's wedding?)

Mike Knipe said...

It was quite windy coming out of the King's Head the other night, Alan.....
I seem to remember you have a nostalgic connection with Bainbridge, Louise. I orta go in that pub but its always shut when I'm in the village (about twice a year...)

Jules said...

Enjoyed reading that, Mike.

The weather - the winds at least - were quite something, Sunday especially! Whinnie The Pooh & The Blustery Day, eat your heart out!

Alan Sloman said...

Sunday was a grand day out in the Dales. I was a little further south nearer Ingleborough, having my eyebrows ripped off too.

Mike Knipe said...

It was actually a Topsy and Tim breezy day, Jules.
I read about your windy adventures around Ingleborough, Alan. Shame about the cafe being closed. I expect the eyebrows will grow back given settled weather....