Weets and Witchy Places

This trundle with the bro has been on the cards for a while. I lived in Earby till I was 16 and, very close to this hill for the next echty blob years, but I never climbed it. I don’t know if i had some superstitious beliefs about Barnoldswick or something (can’t have – I remember at least half of a specially fine New years Eve party there).

Anyway, at roughly n minutes past ten , me and John met in the lovely car park of the delicious Letcliffe Park which probably overlooks Barlick when its not misty and snowing so much.

Yes, readers, it was snowing in great white fluffy lumps, and sticking too. I expect its due to the winter or something.

We found the bridleway that goes up Weets Hill and lost it again, fortuitously, as it happens, because otherwise we wouldn’t have met the garden statue shown in the intro picture. I expect there’s a tale about the statue, and the other one next to it that I didn’t snap.Eventually, through the fog and incipient blizzard, we found the trig point with it’s sad and frozen flower.

We wandered a bit and then decided to stravaig for a while.

We stravaiged to the Moorcock Inn, which was firmly closed.

Then we rambled along the Pendle Way and up the snowy hill opposite The Weets. And down again.

For speed, we used country lanes to make progress towards Blacko with it’s tower wot you can’t visit cos there’s no right of way (dhuhh), then along pleasant paths through various people’s gardens to Malkin Tower. Malkin Tower appears in the story of the Demdikes – the Pendle witches, who had a dirty hovel here. Its a holiday cottage now, so you can stay, if you dare. Ashley, it doesn’t look very scary. The Demdikes and their coven were transported to Lancaster, tried and hung. Its Ok, its not recent. We have medical care for geriatrics nowadays.

We progressed up the old Gisburn road, which, of course, goes to Old Gisburn  - and back along a lane to the start.

At some point, Bruno picked some litter – a plastic soft drinks bottle, and carried it for a mile or so, occasionally dropping it to be kicked along so he could catch it. At some other point, he seems to have lost it.

It snowed all day.

We did 12 miles and 2000 feet of up, which was a bit more than planned, but that’s rambling for you, I expect.  You can overplan sometimes.

Pendle Hill revisited

I used to live within sight of Pendle Hill, and, one or two of my immediate female relatives had some rather unusual religious habits, and, some might say, powers...(oooer) - so, after several failed attempts at arranging a meeting due, I finally met up with a Manchester van driver called John in the car park in Barley, at the very foot of Pendle Hill.

John goes by the "user-name" of "Yomper" on http://www.walkingforum.co.uk/ and , following my recent policy of enjoying walks with as many different people as possible, it was through this forum that we managed to arrange this little trundle. And worra pleasant little walk it was.

I had last climbed Pendle on halloween 1975, at midnight. This seemed like a good idea at the time, but turned out to be a really bad idea as it happened. The place was a madhouse of Burnley vs Man Utd fans beating crap out of each other, druggies and drunks laying around the summit and fireworks going off in any direction other than upwards.

I also learned to ski at Pendle ski club and had the unusual experience of having a lesson cancelled due to snow...

Anyway - me and John and superdawg climbed up the slanted path that goes up to the top of Pendle, had a little brew near the top, and came down a slanted stepped path back to the foot.

The views from the top are remarkable.

Afterwards, we repaired top the Pendle Inn for a Pendle Bitter and then I Pendled off to Bleara moor for a bit of a poke around old haunts. It was a bit drizzly by then, so I didn't explore too far - I'll be back here with my brother in a while anyway.

A good day, though - I think we probably walked around 4 miles and climbed about 1100 feet altogether.

Bruno seemed to get on well with Yomper - some people do dogs, and some people don't -and some people would like to but can't get the hang... thats just the way of things with doggies....

It may have been the doggy bix he'd brought. The way to Bruno's heart has always been gastro...

One last thing - when I was about nine years old, my uncle from California visited us in Earby, and brought with him, by ship to Liverpool, an enormous American car. This proved to be disastrous because, one day he took his brothers and sisters (my aunts and uncles) and a partner or two on a drinking day in Skipton, and on the way back he crashed the car into a tree and an "uncle" was killed.

Shortly afterwards, the bend where they'd come adrift was straightened out, but, having seen the wreck of the car in the local garage, complete with family blood and hair, the bend where the crash happened and what had happened to the aunties had haunted me for a long time, possibly years.

And today, I visited the place by taking the old A56. And the tree is still damaged. Remarkable.

Thats more than fifty years. Thats a ghost laid to rest, finally.