The Bowes Loop (Pennine Way)

We did the Bowes Loop/Bowes Alternative on the Pennine Way today. Two people turned up, plus two stewards, Ann and Martyn, so there were five of us. There’s many an Englishman now abed that would think themselves accursed they were not here. The weather behaved – it was quite nice, really..  Was there a tennis match on or something..?

This is a picture of today’s group. As you can see, there is a certain amount of grim determination about them, despite the fact that a time/space continuum accident  is starting to happen where the entire world slips several feet to the left. Either that or the camera slipped during the operation of the self-timer. Note the chairs. This is standard equipment on a Durham County Council Guided Walk. Walkers are encouraged to bring their own although most stewards carry a few spares. Cushions are not provided. We’re ‘ard oop North, so we are.

This is Russell, a Pennine Wayfarer on his ninth damp day on the PW. Russell works at the landrover factory near Birmingham. He was christened Russell because his mother was frightened by a bag of crisps.  Personally, I thought this explanation was far-fetched. Russell is walking up the Pennine Way and then back down the Northumbrian coast to do Hadrian’s Wall. Russell walked with us for a couple of miles. I noticed that the stewards failed to get any money out of him so he owes Durham County Council sixty pence. These walks aren’t free, y’know…

These are the dogs from Clove Lodge. The one stood up was noisy but turned out to be friendly. The other (submitting) was just friendly. The owner of Clove Lodge owes Durham County Council thirty pence for socialising fees for the dogs.

This is what you get on a nithering cold day in the North Pennines if your underwear is insufficient. Merino wool is the thing, boys…

This advice doesn’t apply to girls.

This is a picture of a rock buttress on Goldsborough. We had our afternoon break on the top of such a buttress. Probably not this one, though.

This is a pic of the safe end of Battle Hill firing ranges. They shoot proper guns in here. Don’t go in.

As you can see, another time/space continuum accident is starting. The picture is Levy Pool (or Laverpool). Its a bit lonely. It would be an excellent place to be a cat, I would have thought. The Bowes Loop passes the buildings which have been restored in a specially excellent way and some of the houses are thatched with ling and have very steep roofs. This is very typical of the older farmsteads in Weardale in particular, although these all have slated roofs nowadays. Alf Wainwright’s description of the place says that the windows were “sightless” and the place derelict. Its not derelict now, it’s rather beautiful.

And that was the walk. It was thirteen miles (oh, yes it was,….)  I quite enjoyed it. I’d do it again.

Fiddling Clough and Other Places Nostalgically

Every now and then me and the bro have a nostalgic ramble around the environs of Earby where we wander about remembering things. Today was the day to do it. The bro brought June with him. I went to Infants and Junior school with June…

We started by the cricket ground in Thornton-in-Craven. We sort of got permission from one of the cricketers. Anyway, Thornton’s cricket ground is right next to where the railway station used to be, The platforms are still there, although covered in grass and wild flowers. It seems that the old railway line is walkable, which is a Good Thing. I seem to remember my mum telling me about one of her friends and his girlfriend having a nasty and doubly-fatal accident at this spot with their motor-bike and sidecar and the train to Burnley, but I can;t find any information about this at all.

We walked up the hill into the village, remembering where the parties used to be and the unfortunate incident at the Youth Club with the village postmaster’s Christmas whisky supply shared between several teenage boys, one of whom ended up in hospital with a head injury. We got banned from the village hall for this and ended up building a new youth club in Dr Morrison’s stables… We Can Work It Out was a hit at the time, which must date this…

Onwards through the fields to Earby where we passed the site of the Empire flicks and the air-raid shelter, and the co-op and James’s Butchers to the library. This has not moved since echty-blob, except it used to be upstairs. Then a slightly odd incident. There was a little woman with a friendly dog, whom she was berating for “jumping up”. It made no difference to the dog, but we started chatting to her and it was during this conflab that she revealed that her name was “Amy”. I won;t reveal her full name but I will say that I had a very brief (probably a week, not more) teenage fling with either her or her best pal round about the time we  were getting banned from Thornton Village Hall. I seem to remember entering and leaving a terraced house by an open window, for reasons that are no longer clear.

Inside the library, we found that the Earby Historical Society had a display with pictures from our schools roundabout the time we were there. We were also reminded of the “Earby Firebug” who had destroyed our school and went on a bit of an arson rampage for a while and who, we  think, was never caught, despite the £50 reward.

Through the cemetary where we noted the names of the long-standing Earby families, including a few school friends who had found there way in there, and an auntie and uncle… and on, up through the fields to The Mount. Here, we located the exact position of a camping spot we’d used. The routine was this: Mick, who lived next door, seemed to have the skill of forming lumps of raw, cream-coloured cotton straight off the looms into perfectly serviceable tents. On hot sunny days (we used to have these during school holidays in what we used to call “The Summer”. Older readers may remember summers fondly…) – on hot sunny days we would beg sheets of cotton from the maintenance staff at Spring Mill, who would gather on the gantry for their morning tea break. They always gave us huge great sheets of newly woven cotton. Maybe it was faulty. Maybe it didn’t have much value. They also used to give us bobbins and ball bearings, all of which could be put to nefarious use of the type that would have people calling the police nowadays, but sometimes, instead, would result in a minor but painful assault on the lug-oils (ears) and a report to the parents where a further assault on the backside might well take place. This had little effect other than short-lived remorse, I have to say but maybe restricted anti-social behaviour to levels which could be managed in a society where people called you by your mother’s maiden name if you were in trouble, revealing that not only did they know who you were, but also who your mother’s family were and their history for several generations past, and, whether or not, you were from a “bad lot” or were just temporarily a bit mischievous. I don’t believe that police were ever involved.

The point I eventually arrive at is that, there is a little neck of land between two small streams , right bang next to the Pennine Way where these little tents were erected and, where we played hide and seek and Germans and English and Cowboys and Injuns, or whatever, along with the farmer’s son from the farm across the fields.

We progressed and, at a farm I’d never been to before, we were approached by the farmer since we’d gone a bit astray. The conversation revealed that the chap was a contemporary and that we all knew the farmers from the 1950’s and 60’s , most of whom were now dead, bit almost all of who’s families were still farming the same farms. There’s a remarkable bit of continuity going on here.

We passed Fiddling Clough, a large 17th century (at least) farmstead now derelict and about to fall down, but the top of the field was the site of family picnics and the site of a first “wild” camp. We had taken only cornflakes to eat….  But, in high summer and with no watches, we had no idea of time and went home to still sleeping households with locked doors.

Down to the Waterfalls aka the Burley Playing Fields. This is where wayward females would steal your trunks if you entered the wrong field. This is where early courting took place, the site of the scattering of ashes, the place where adventures happened. Its not changed much. The playground equipment is new and the cavalry-fort perimeter fence has gone; there are more trees and the hills and the beck are all smaller somehow. I managed a paddle in the paddling pool. It was just over knee-deep and with a fierce current at the top end.

On to Mill Lane and Green End and the Twirly Beck. Twirly Beck used to have sticklebacks We couldn’t find any today, but the underneath of stones was full of wriggly life.

We walked the length of Wentcliffe Drive, noting the names of 1960’s occupants and what had happened to some of them.

Somehow we were drawn into the bar of the White Lion. (well, you have to , for completeness) and back down Water Street where the shops used to be and back to Thornton Cricket Club along the railway line, accompanied by an energetic and very noisy and wet thunderstorm.

We did about 8 miles.

I’m not doing a map cos it would only really make sense to a Knipe or Penman, such was the apparent randomness of the thing.

Good fun, though. And Amy still has the same surname that she had in 1967 but appears to have shrunk, somehow… and the trouble she had with her new front denture seems to have resolved itself. Some Earbyites who knew her in the 1960’s will now know who she is. The rest of the world doesn’t really need to know.

Its remarkably green and beautiful around there, too. You don’t notice this when you live there, y’know.

 

Pennine Way Bowes Alternative Reccy

The Bowes Alternative – renamed later as The Bowes Loop takes Pennine Wayfarers from Tan Hill to Bowes and then to Baldersdale for Middleton in Teesdale as an alternative to sploshing straightforwardly Northwards over the trembling bogs of Stainmore and thus providing a slightly easier , less remote route whilst also providing business for  the campsite, B&Bs and the Unicorn Inn in Bowes and, shortly, I’m leading a Durham County Council guided walk to do the loop.

This guided walk is programmed for next Sunday and so, me and superdawg went off to do the reccy wot we’re supposed to do just before a guided walk. As it happens, according to an email from Maria at the Council, they’re having a bit of trouble getting stewards for this one. I’m not sure what happens if there’s no stewards, bearing in mind that some punters will ,probably turn up…   I expect we’ll find out on Sunday.

So, the start of the walk was in Bowes again, and heads West on the PW for a bit before turning off to God’s Bridge. We came to the attention of a couple of suckler herds on this part, and as they were starting to show a bit of interest in Bruno, we had to “disappear” a bit into the lie of the land so the grumpy beggars couldn’t see us, thus avoiding being trampled or otherwise killed or crushed.

We turned our attention to the main Pennine Way route which heads North over Stainmore, crossing the A66 via a subway. I tried turning on the lights in the subway but they didn’t work. If anybody has the idea that this tunnel would make a nice, cheap overnight bivi, forget it, it’s wet and full of litter, and it’s pretty noisy. You’d have to be mad.

The Stainmore Gap is a beautiful wilderness of wild bog which divides the Yorkshire Dales from the North Pennines and the Pennine Way is a bit timid about it, just skirting the Eastern edge, but, it would seem that there’s much more fun to be had further East. I’m determined to have a long walk up here quite soon – in my mind there’s a warm, possibly hot day in high summer with the larks in the sky and only the distant swish and rumble of the A66….

Anyway, we soon caught up with a proper Pennine Wayfarer who was intent on camping at the pub at Holwick this very night. This sounded like a splendid idea although, maybe, a bit far from Tan Hill to Holwick.. We passed him and he passed us again at lunchtime.

After the cheese teacake and banana and coffee, I bagged the trig at West Hare Crag and wandered along the fenceline quite a way eastwards, just to see what it was like. When I do the walk on the hot summer’s day (see above), I think I’ll follow this fence. It goes to Great Knipe. Worraplod..!

Back to business, though and from Race Yate we dropped down to Clove Lodge and into the fabulously flowery meadows of Baldersdale.

A second lunch was taken on the crags of Goldsborough and we splodged back over the moors (everywhere is all very wet at the moment, but it’ll be drier when I do that walk on the hot summer day quite soon…) to Levy Pool where three moo cows tried to mug us, but failed due to a necessarily assertive approach from me and the dawg – and back through the chemical warfare depot where the shepherds were gathering sheep (are sheep supposed to glow like that..?) and back to Bowes.

I couldn’t help noticing the lines of heavily laden young lads plodding sweatily in the opposite direction. None of them, though, it would seem, noticed me, even when I said “hello” Just one of them spoke to me and enquired as to which path I’d taken and how wet it was. The rest stared intently forwards. This is something I’ve noticed a lot recently. I’m not sure who these children were, or where they were going, except to say that they all had huge packs with tents and karrimat – type mats and they were all looking quite fragged. But I have to say that it’s usual when you meet somebody on the hills, in such a wild and lonely spot, to say “hello”, or, at least, to acknowledge a person’s existence.  Dhuhhh..

Anyway, we did fifteen miles. The County Durham guided walk on Sunday is thirteen and starts at 10:00 a.m. from Bowes village hall car park. be there or be square. Anybody want to be a steward..?

Hi Ho Silver Haway (bonnie lad)

Me and the dawg just did our bi-annual walk around the footpaths to the immediate North of Pie Towers – up to Roddymoor, skirting the disputed Kitty’s Wood and up on to the hill above Crook and around the back kind of thing. Avid readers may remember that many of the stiles had been repaired when we did this walk back in January, and one stile had been wired up with barbed wire, reported to the Council, and cleared. So, this time, I didn’t expect much in the way of footpath issues and, I was chuffed not to find any. Bruno enjoyed the trundle and the bounce around the field with no stock in it.

And its been that time of year when Maria at the council asks for plans for the winter guided walks programme, so I put a dozen walks in for that. Some are repeats and some are new. I’ll have to reccy the new ones fairly soon, and each gets a reccy a week before the walk takes place – so some get walked three times altogether.

This is what I’ve submitted: (No dates at the present cos they’re not confirmed)

October: Burble Well Baldersdale (this is new – cracking name for a place, though, eh?)

November: Cow Green – Langdon Beck – Cauldron Snout ( another new one – this is a classic Upper Teesdale one that appears in lots of guidebooks)

November: Bolts law from Blanchland - (New – cracking view, Grommit)

December: Advent walk around Crook – (Mince pies and coffee at St Cath’s afterwards)

December: Tunstall/Fawnlees (Seemed very poplier last time…)

January: Cowshill to Northumberland border. (repeated – high level, so it should be cold brrrrrrr)

January: Upper Weardale: Westgate – Bollihope (new , low-level winter walk)

February: Elephant Trees – Bollihope (repeat – this is not the same Bollihope as above. Several Bollihopes are available)

February: Hudeshope (repeat – hoping that the mud is frozen)

March: Westgate – Rookhope (repeat through Slitt Wood etc)

March: Bentley Beetham vs Hannah Hauxwell (repeat walk in Baldersdale)

March: Rookhope Burn (repeat.)

Phew. This should keep me busy, I would have thought….

By the way – the post title refers to The Lone Ranger, for those not of a certain age. It’s a joke, see?

 

Stony Band Shunner Fell and Great Sleddale

 

Yesterday, I had planned to go to Cumbria to bag a Birkett or two, but it was on the TV that over in Cumbria, they were still cleaning up from this month’s flooding, and there was the issue about the stupidly high parking fees over there, so, instead, I went to Thwaite in Swaledale with a loose plan to bag a light blue triangle (if it’s light blue it’s unbagged!) that’s appeared on www.hill-bagging.co.uk – a Sub-Dewey (no, really, there is such a thing…) right next to the Pennine Way on Great Shunner Fell and then to get back to the start with an exploration of Great Sleddale, a place I like to visit once every 38 years – it was 38 years ago when I last wandered down this little dale.

I told the dog. He was happy about the plan, so, armed with a fresh cheese butty and a new banana we pointed the knipemobile in the appropriate direction and set off.

Not too long later, we were huffing and dripping sweatily up the Pennine Way towards Derbyshire. It was a dark and humid kind of day. But, on the moor, the larks and pipits were singing way up in the grey and the D of E kids were heaving their packs Northwards. I said “hello” to the first four in the group – none of them replied. I told number five that I wasn’t going to speak to him. They’re not supposed to talk to strange men, y’know.. they have strict warnings from their mums and D of E organisers.

We quickly bagged Stony Band and then, a bit less quickly, blundered off to the top of Shunner Fell where there’s a cross shelter and some old banana skins.

A couple at the summit of Shunner fell were chatty, though and their little dog, one Monty, a double of Peewiglet’s Piglet if ever I saw one, was very friendly and was enthusiastic about meeting Bruno. I think they said they were going to go back down to Thwaite the way they’d come up – by the Pennine Way.

We lunched briefly. A Pennine way walker stopped for a chat (they’re allowed to communicate with others too). I told him the weather forecast (warm and wet) and he suspected thunder and lightening. Always look on the bright side…

After lunch, me and superdawg lead off down the steep slope into the upper parts of Great Sleddale, following a nice little limestone gorge for a bit and then tracks by the beck to the abandoned farm and fields lower down. This hasn’t changed much at all in 38 years, if my memory serves me..er… thingy..

A plodge through a deep ford provided wet socks for additional excitement, followed by a nice riverside ramble and a second sweaty, dripping huffanpuff over a moor, during which I met the same DofE group again. the first one said hello. The next three looked into space when I said “hello”. I told the last one that I wasn’t going to speak to him.

The forecast had said rain, starting in the early afternoon, but it didn’t start till I was within yards of the shelter of the car. It had, though, been a very warm and humid sort of day suitable for baselayers only with rolled-up sleeves and something to keep the stinging salty stuff out of your eyes.

It was ten of your Earth miles. I enjoyed it. Bruno enjoyed it. Monty seemed to be enjoying it. The Pennine wayfarer enjoyed the feeling of doom.  I don’t think the DofE kids enjoyed it. I think they’re just after the line in the CV. At some point, though, they’re going to have to start talking to other people. They should put something about this in the training, really, otherwise there’ll be little point in having a CV entry with “Duke of Edinburgh Gold Award” in it if they can’t speak to an interviewer. Or anybody.

Here’s a map for anybody intent on visiting Sleddale- which I would recommend for it’s remote feel. You can’t take dogs there, though cos it’s a grouse moor (koff). I only found out about the dog thing at the foot of Sleddale, which was too late by then. No ground-nesting birds or sheep were harmed, though.

Swaledale’s very nice at the moment, too. The meadows are blooming. It’s a good time to go. And parking near the junction with the Buttertubs road is free, leaving funds available for a cuppa at the tea room at Thwaite.