Slitt Vein and a new sub-Hewitt

This blog post is entirely about having a walk up  Slitt Wood in Weardale to have a look at the Slitt Vein (nothing suicidal, its a mineral vein wot you can ackcherly see cos all the ground around it has been quarried away ) – and the bagging of Black Fell a 604 metre top designated as a sub-Hewitt in http://www.hillbagging.co.uk/, and which I’ve only just noticed…. pause for breath….and nothing at all to do with the launch of http://www.ukhillwalking.com/, in which there’s a small article about hillbagging from yours truly. In fact I won’t mention http://www.ukhillwalking.com/ ever again.

Appropriate, though, I suppose.

So, being completely unaware of the launch of http://www.ukhillwalking.com/, me and superdawg parked neatly by the phone box in Westgate and wandered up through the ever lovely Slitt Wood, just as far as the mines.

Now these mineworkings have just had a lorra lorra money being excavated and restored, to some extent. For interest, there’s the bargain steads – big containers for each mining team’s production, the excavated smithy with it’s  rock drill holes in the floor – presumably to prove they worked – a deep, deep shaft, fenced off, a wheel pit with a water supply from a dam up the hill and the footings for an Armstrong hydraulic engine, which replaced the wheel in the wheelpit – used for pumping water out of the mine. Plus some interesting and wet culverts.

if you walk up the hill on the newly created permissive path (like wot me and the dog did), you follow the edge of Slitt Vein and, at the top of the hill, there is the vein, stripped bare of it’s surround of ironstone, and with it’s galena mined out from the middle – but big and proud and strong, a damn great lump of quartzy rock. So that’s what a vein looks like…

After this, we wandered up the road (the beck being too lively to cross today) – and lunched in some forest in a warm and bright spell. The forest has lots of old pits and heaps in it – still being on the line of a lead vein, but this stuff is full of purple flourspar. I borrowed a couple of pieces. I’ll put them back if requested… 

And then we wandered over the moor alongside a wall that’s shown on the map as derelict, but which, according to an inscribed stone at Black Hill summit, was restored by the Golden family in 2001/2. They seem to have done a cracking job.

As the sun came out, we retreated to the Dale and followed the river downstream to the start. Bruno had a paddle and a bark in a deep salmon pool. We had no idea about http://www.ukhillwalking.com/, obviously and I’m not going to mention it.

10 miles and 1500 feet and one sub-Hewitt bagged.

Its not fair

More walkies coming soon...

In the meantime, here's a little something for all those readers who always arrive early and/or are obsessed by their own impotence

Blaze Fell and Eycott Hill(s)

Met Office forecasts have been unusually consistent this week in nominating Thursday as the day when it wouldn’t rain. And it didn’t. In fact, it was fairly warm, or at least, relatively warm, so me and superdawg shrugged off a spot of lassitude and navigated our way to the foot of Blaze Fell.

Blaze Fell is a HuMP (Hundred metre prominence), about ten miles North of Penrith and on the Lake District side of the River Eden. It has, to it’s credit, or , at least, somebody’s credit, a pair of permissive footpaths to the top. The local Nordview Stables are also encouraging walkers along the Northern slopes and, it would appear, that you can walk almost anywhere on the pastures on that side.

So we trundled off up the Eastern side through, what suddenly appeared to be a lambing field. This was evidenced by two very new lambs and their mother who was putting up a brave show in stamping and snorting at Bruno who was ignoring her. I wouldn’t normally take the dog through a lambing field with sheep in this advanced state of pregnancy, but it was too late and we plundered on as quietly as possible.

The top of Blaze Fell has a currently disused quarry of very attractive sparkly red sandstone and a trig point, plus cracking views of the Pennines and the Cumbrian fells.
We returned to lunch in the car by a roundabout route.

Next up was a pair of Eycott Hills – Little and , wel just Eycott Hill. These don’t appear as very promising walking country on the map, but the reality is different.
I parked fortunately beside an unmarked permissive path which leads through a sheep field to the open fell. A cracking walk along an occasionally rocky edge with superb views of Blencathra and Carrock Fell and more fells to the South. A couple of kilometres saw both Eycotts bagged.

And that was that.
I drove home at an appropriate speed (!)
We did about six miles altogether.
Can’t be arsed with maps…..

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.

The advantages resulting from eating fish

I am saying nothing about this, except to say that I am very fond of a kipper in the morning.