The day after Martin Simpson, which was our wedding anniversary. UF had somewhere else to be. He seems busier now than he ever did when he was working! Anyway, TBH and I decided to have a day out together, starting with a visit to Stott Park Bobbin Mill.
A boiler?
I don’t think TBH had ever been to the Mill before, but I came here with other trainees when I was doing my teaching qualification, so….1989, I think.
Random leftover bits.
They still do superb guided tours and demonstrate the machinery.
An engine.
But that tour was given by an ex-employee from when the mill still functioned as a going concern (it closed in 1971).
Bobbin making machinery – lots of moving parts!
He had a marvellous cumbrian accent and a store of gruesome stories about the horrific injuries which the machines and all of those moving bands could cause.
Anyway, the mill is fascinating, well worth a visit. The detail which stuck in my head this time was the amount of sawdust generated – I’m sure that we were told that the staff would be waist deep in the stuff, which seems like a fire hazard! Years ago, TBH and I did a tour of one of the world’s first cotton mills (in Belper, Derbyshire). Apparently, with all of the cotton dust in the air, early cotton mills were real powder kegs.
Bobbins.
On a side note, the word bobbins will always remind me of ‘The Robins Aren’t Bobbins’ a song about Altrincham FC by Chris Sievey in the guise of his alter-ego Frank Sidebottom. Like anyone who went to a lot of gigs in Manchester in the eighties, I saw Frank Sidebottom perform several times. I could never really make my mind up about him. Still can’t. I was trying to explain the act to ‘Little’ S, but I think I lost him when I mentioned Little Frank – a ventriloquist act by a man wearing a papier mache head – does it get any weirder than that?
Still, ‘Is this the real world, or is this just Timperley?’ Immortal.
A couple more days from last October’s half-term. On the first of those days I was out for a couple of local walks. In the morning, a short walk in Eaves Wood.
Sunshine!
As you can see, the weather was magnificent.
Starling on one of our feeders.
Later, I had a longer walk, to Leighton Moss and then back via Jenny Brown’s Point.
Paraglider apparently struggling to get airborne.
I watched this paraglider attempting to take-off from the field behind our garden, but I gave up watching in the end because he didn’t seem to be having any success.
The weather had changed considerably, although there were still patches of blue sky out over the bay. Quicksand Pool was looking mean and moody.
Quicksand pool.
The following morning, I was back in Eaves Wood…
Silverdale from Castle Barrow.
Inman’s road, the path along the southern edge of the wood, always has an abundance of these fungi in October…
Honey fungus. Possibly.
I’m reasonably confident that they are Honey Fungus, though not so confident that I’ve tried them fried on toast yet. Incidentally, the name ‘honey’ is a reference to their colour, not flavour. If they are honey fungus then they’re bioluminescent: next October I must have a wander this way on a particularly dark evening.
Old friend Uncle Fester arrived around lunch time (I think) and we sat indoors and waited for it to stop raining. And waited. To no avail. He was visiting because Martin Simpson, incredible guitarist, singer and songwriter (and keen birdwatcher to boot) was playing in the tiny Arnside Sailing Club.
Martin Simpson at Arnside Sailing Club.
I’ve seen him before with UF at the Platform in Morecambe and the Brewery Arts Centre in Kendal. It seems very odd that he was not playing one of those much larger venues. But what a treat it was. We were on the back row – you can probably tell from my photo? He was miles away! This time, TBH came with us and I’m pleased to say that she loved his performance too.
In case you don’t know him, here’s the video for the title track from his most recent album…
An October outing up two Wainwrights which I’ve never climbed before. Not sure how I’ve managed to avoid them. Anyway, my mistake: they were well worth a visit. In the photo above, you can see that there’s a lot of steep stuff on Eagle Crag and it’s not immediately obvious how you’ll get up there, but fortunately it’s all plain sailing; the path winds round to the left of the first knoll, Bleak How, and then finds a passage through the remaining complexities.
Fungi.
Having said that, after the initial easy plod along Stonethwaite Beck and then a boggy bit of field, I turned away from the valley path either too late or too early and then found myself fighting spiky, crumpled bracken uphill, but eventually managed to reach a sketchy path by the wall which then lead me around the craggy parts of Bleak How and on to the ridge.
Long Band on Coldbarrow Fell.
This stream, unnamed on the OS map, has carved quite an impressive looking amphitheatre below Long Band on the opposite fellside and I filed away the idea of having a gander there on a future walk.
My ascent route, approaching Eagle Crag..Knotts and Great Crag above Stonethwaite.
It was a fairly grey day, with occasionally the odd drop of moisture in the air and the apparent threat of rain, but none-the-less good walking weather.
A broad ramp.
The route follows a resourceful path which finds first a broad ramp with crags above and below, and then switches back up an easy-angled gully through what might have seemed impenetrable cliffs.
Looking down on Bleak How.Heron Crag and Langstrath.A steepish section.Looking to Sergeant’s Crag
On the last part of the ascent, the path loops drunkenly back and forth following broad ledges separated by short slabby crags. You could probably take a more direct route, but it’s pleasant walking so why bother?
Sergeant’s Crag and Langstrath.Sergeant’s Crag again.
Too many photos of Sergeant’s Crag? I liked the look of it!
The long Glaramara ridge.Looking north to Skiddaw.
On the top, the inevitable cup of tea, a video-call with my Mum and Dad, and a brief conversation with another walker. I saw surprisingly few that day.
Sergeant’s Crag.Again!Looking back to Eagle Crag.Eagle Crag again.Glaramara.
Not much more climbing to attain Sergeant’s Crag and then I took an off-piste route down towards Langstrath, aiming to avoid Bull Crag and Blea Crag and the crags around Lamper Knott. With hindsight, I’m not sure it’s a route I could recommend: there’s a lot of crags and even the grassy parts are liberally sprinkled with boulders and rocks. Still, I enjoyed it immensely.
An off piste descent.Approaching Langstrath Beck.
I wanted to come down this way so that I could have a peek at the renowned Black Moss Pot…
Blackmoss Pot.
There were quite a few wet-suited swimmers nearby, the ones who had just finished swimming advising and encouraging another group who had just arrived. I’ve never swum here myself and it’s on my wish-list, although not for a grey day towards the end of October!
Langstrath Beck.Stonethwaite.Map the first.Around six and a half miles – but there’s a lot packed into that short walk.
October half-term. On the Saturday I was in Lancaster for some reason. Whatever the reason, I crossed Carlisle bridge, which takes the railway lines over the Lune, but also has a footbridge attached. I like the view of Lancaster from there…
Lancaster from Carlisle Bridge.
On the Sunday, our old neighbour from when we lived on The Row, MM, was visiting his daughter and her family, who are now our neighbours (are you following?) We got chatting and he asked if I’d ever had a wander around Fell End Nature Reserve. Not only had I never visited, I didn’t even know it was there, which, given that it’s pretty close to home is a bit of a surprise.
MM offered to introduce me, drove us over there, lent me a pair of binos and gave me a guided tour. What a star!
Part of the herd of Fallow Deer at Fell End.
When we’d almost completed our circuit, we bumped into first one, then a second fungi expert, both of whom MM knew, and we set-off together for another turn around the reserve.
Honey fungus?
MM had been disappointed by the paucity of the fungi on display, but with a couple of knowledgeable tour guides, there was a fair bit to see after-all.
Hinge and Bracket fungus.
You’ll notice that I’ve pretty much given up on any attempt to identify the various brackets and toadstools. Fungi seem incredibly difficult to get to grips with.
Erm..slightly red looking fungus.
My favourites by far with the little cluster of Earthstars which MM and I had missed the first time around.
Tree-climbing social fungus.Manky pancake fungus.Yellow disco dot fungus.Teasel seeds sprouting from a teasel seedhead.
Anyway, it was a lovely way to spend a couple of hours and both another visit to the reserve and another walk with MM are long overdue.
By the Sunday of the music festival weekend, we are usually ready for a change and a walk. Last year was no exception, so we opted for the classic local route, around the coast to Arnside and back via the Knot. (Except for UF who will have made one of his standard lame excuses around playing snap or utilising his season ticket at Man City, or having a bone in his leg).
Around the coast.
It’s always a good walk, but throw in some clear blue skies, some sunshine and a few old friends and you can’t go wrong.
Looking south to Know Point and Clougha Pike.Grange-over-Sands.Turning the corner into the estuary.High tide at New Barns.Old dinghy moored near Arnside.Racing dinghies on the Kent.
I keep saying that I should join the sailing club at Arnside, but then I never get around to it. But I really should. It must have been pretty windy that day, some of these yachtsmen are really leaning out to counteract their boats heeling.
Arriving on the prom.
I suppose we probably purchased pasties or the like for a lunch in Arnside, we usually do.
The Kent estuary, Whitbarrow and the Lakeland fells beyond from Arnside Knot.Arnside Knot pano.The sculpture again – this time with some people in.The view south – Ingleborough, Arnside Tower Farm, Middlebarrow, Warton Crag and the Bowland Fells. Descending from the Knot.
As usual, I was a bit rubbish at taking any team photos. I did get this one on the last leg of the walk which makes TBH look preposterously tall. J meanwhile seems to be taking extra special care over where she is placing her feet.
Anyway, after that, all back to ours for tea. Another fab weekend.
Okay, the Shaggy Inkcap was not one of the acts from the Lancaster Music Festival. This photo is the sole representative from our habitual Sunday walk around Jenny Brown’s Point, the weekend before the festival. I neglected to mention that my previous post shaded me into last October. So I’m now officially nearly ‘only’ six months behind!
Mid-October brought the aforementioned Music Festival, one of the highlights of my year, and, as has recently become a tradition, a gaggle of visitors to share the fun with us.
Peloton at Kanteena.
I broke with my previous self-imposed rule about not going to gigs on a school night and went to the Kanteena on the Thursday night. Local band Peloton opened (a ska version of ‘Psycho-Killer’ anyone?) They’re marvellous and we saw them again, later in the weekend. Next up were a sort of Latin rock-band from New York (who’s name escapes me) followed by perennial festival favourites The Uptown Monotones, who are from Graz in Austria, but who seem to have made Lancaster their second home.
Uptown Monotones at Kanteena.
As you can see, it wasn’t exactly thronged; unlike the rest of the weekend, when just about every venue was heaving. I think the festival may, to a certain extent, be a victim of its own success.
Siqian Li at work
On the Friday evening, I didn’t even need to leave work to begin my musical excursion. Over the weekend, classical pianist Siquian Li was playing all of the best pianos in Lancaster. Apparently, the very best is the one in our main hall at work. I had a front row seat and it was spellbinding. So good, in fact, that I persuaded our group to start with her performance at the Storey Institute the next day. UF was the first of our visitors to arrive on the Friday evening and once we’d met up we went to see…other stuff? I can’t remember now! Maybe we finished the night with the Uptown Monotones again at the Storey? Or the Gregson? Or was that another year? Oh dear. I can’t really remember many of the bands I saw at Reading Festival either, but that was at least 30 years ago. I’m sure we enjoyed ourselves anyway.
On to Saturday…
Across the fields to the railway station.Away from the Numbers at Kanteena.Harri Larkin at Lancaster Castle. Excellent.Lancaster Castle.Uptown Monotones in Lancaster Priory.A view over Lancaster.
I do know that on the Saturday evening some of us took some time out from the music to watch Alfie Moore, of ‘It’s a Fair Cop’ fame at The Grand Theatre. Very good he was too. TBH and I had also recently seen Bridget Riley at the Grand (I think). And at some point we saw Daliso Chaponda rehearsing new material for a Radio 4 show in a smallish room above the Borough Pub in Lancaster. Both of them were hilarious. Neither of these were that weekend, but since I didn’t take photos at either event I now have now clear idea about when they happened!
Reggie Mental at Kanteena.
Reggie Mental are another local ska band with a nice line in off-the-wall covers, ‘Inbetween Days’ for example, although they mostly cover late seventies British ska bands’ songs. The Kanteena was absolutely rammed for their performance.
A date for your diaries: this year’s festival is the 10th to the 13th of October. I’ve no idea of the line-up, but no doubt lots of local favourites will be there and hopefully some of the acts which seem to travel every year to entertain us.
Glencoe Folk Museum – housed in thatched eighteenth century crofters cottages.
The Sunday of our Glencoe break was absolutely glorious. Uncle Fester and The Prof elected to stay in the house to watch the golf. I know; they often seem like quite rational types, but clearly some kind of mental instability is suspected.
Impressive looking ridges either side of Fionn Ghleann (I think).
The rest of the party decided to head for the Pap of Glencoe. Since breathing, and moving, more both proving a bit painful for me, I thought I would just settle for a bit of a wander. Initially I followed on up the path heading for the Pap, but with no intention of going all the way up. The views were tremendous.
Looking down to Loch Leven.Those hills again.
After a couple of small, innocuous looking rocky steps, which, since I couldn’t really bend down, I thought I might struggle to descend (I was right), I chose to slowly amble back down.
And again. It’s a very long time since I did Bidean nam Bian (on the left here). Too long.
And then to do a slow circuit of the small lochan above Glencoe.
We have ‘chatty benches’ in Silverdale, but this road-sign takes friendliness to another level. Glencoe Lochan.
It was genuinely warm and I made good use of the many benches stationed around along the path.
Glencoe Lochan.
The were quite a few dragonflies about and I quixotically tried to photograph them using my phone, with no success whatsoever.
Glencoe Lochanand the Pap of Glencoe.Glencoe Lochanand the Pap of Glencoe from a slightly different angle.Beinn a’ Bheithir and Loch Leven.
I finished with a little wander by the loch.
River Coe, Pap of Glencoe, Sgorr nam Fiannaidh and Bidean nam Bian.
And was back in time to see the end of the Ryder Cup. Oh no! Could it be that I have a smidge of ‘mental instability’ too?
Late September. The Tower Captain and I drove* up to Glencoe to join a small party of old muckers who’d already been there most of the week. (*Well, he drove, I took photos out of the window obviously).
On the Saturday, we dragged ourselves away from the drama of the Ryder Cup* and headed around the coast to Glen Creran, parking one car up the valley in the car park near Elleric, before returning to park the other near Druimavuic from where we began our traverse of the longish ridge of Beinn Sgulaird. (*Not as tricky for me as it was for some of the others. I hate golf. Although I do enjoy watching Europe beat the USA)
Looking down to Loch Creran.
Now Beinn Sgulaird was a new Munro to me. Not something that happens very often. I think the last new one I ticked off was Stuchd an Lochain back in 2011. I didn’t think much about that novelty last September, but this evening I dug out my old Munros map/tick-list and have enjoyed looking it over and wondering about some of the other Munros I’ve yet to climb. I’ll never finish them all, which I’m totally happy with, in fact there are many I’ve climbed before that I’m really hankering after revisiting, but it is nice to grab a new one now and again. If I remember right, the reason we’d lit upon Beinn Sgulaird in the first place was that it was one of UF’s remaining four unticked Munros. He’s obviously much more single-minded than me. And braver. I’ve done some summits in the Skye Cuillin, but on the whole I’m content to leave those hills to people with a better head for heights than me. And better balance, come to that.
Meall Garbh from unnamed top at 488m.
We did Stuchd an Lochain mostly in mist. This was another cloudy day, but we had much better views than we did that day.
Looking back to the 488m top.
There was a small, but easy to follow path, and although I never move very quickly, we made steady progress.
Andy on Meall Garbh (I think).
The cloud on the ridge was swirling about and offering partial views, which was very atmospheric.
Misty conditions.A partial clearing.Andy again.The descent from Meall Garbh.Beinn Trilleachan (I think).Pano.The ridge on to Beinn Sgulaird.Looking back to Meall Garbh. (I think).
I don’t seem to have taken a summit photo. I’m not sure why not, but we were in the cloud for a while, either side of the summit.
Descending into Coire nan Tulach.
The Prof was adamant that from the top we should turn-tail and retrace our ascent route, since there had been a good path. He was in a minority of one however. Old, wiser heads prevailed. Well….older anyway.
Stob Gaibhre in the foreground. I presume that’s Beinn Fhionnlaidh beyond. Looks good.
Any trace of a path, faint or otherwise, soon disappeared. Never-the-less, to begin with the descent into Coire nan Tulach was great. It was rough going, yes, but rocky and interesting, with expansive views and a real, remote wild feel to it.
Pretty much the same view again. I like them both!
But the lower we descended, the more tussocky and awkward the going became. We skirted around Stob Gaibhre and then dropped off the ridge down towards Glen Ure.
Beinn Trilleachan. Rocky.
I fell over, which was annoying. Then I fell again, but this time it was more than annoying. It ought to have been an innocuous affair – I pitched forward onto a large tussock – but the impact was on my sternum which was extremely painful and which took me almost a month to recover from. Maybe I cracked a rib. Certainly breathing was uncomfortable for the rest of that day and the one which followed. I’ve always been prone to tumbling now and again, but it seems that these days I don’t bounce like I used to. Maybe the Prof was right about our choice of descent route. Just don’t tell him I admitted that.
Glen Ure.
Fortunately, once we hit the track in Glen Ure the rest of the walk became an easy and very pleasant affair, although I think it did spit with rain a little.
Looking back. An Grianan in the centre. Looks worth investigating.Beinn Fhionnlaidhon the left.The whole ridge:Stob Gaibhre, Beinn Sgulaird, Meall Garbh and point 488m on the right.
Back in the car park, UF, for reasons only he knows, decided to settle an argument with a tree by backing his car into it. I think he lost, although said collision didn’t seem to slow him or his speedy vehicle down any on the drive back around to Glen Coe.
A mostly brilliant day. Some views, a new tick, an interesting gnarly ridge, great company and rounded all off with another fabulous meal at The Laroch in Ballachulish (which is highly recommended).
Map.
MapMyWalk gives a little over 10 miles, and almost exactly 1000m of climbing (which is definitely an underestimate).
A post to deal with mid-September last year. On a dull Sunday, after a walk around Jenny Brown’s Point with TBH, I went to Lambert’s Meadow and took a few photos of spiders and a lot of photos of snails. Do snails breed in September? I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many in one visit.
More banded snails.Cottage at Silverdale Green.Another cottage at Silverdale Green.
On the following weekend, the second Morecambe Poetry festival took place at the Winter Gardens. This time TBH joined me and we went to see the headline poets on both the Friday and Saturday nights; first Brian Bilston and Henry Normal, then Jackie Kay and Carol Ann Duffy. Fabulous.
Morecambe Winter Gardens.
The line up for this year’s festival looks every bit as enticing, hopefully TBH will join me again.
I saw Lemn Sissay at the first festival and years ago when I lived in Manchester and likewise, I saw Mike Harding live several times, but not for a very long time. This time, two BBC programmes – Loose Ends and The Verb – will be broadcast live from the festival. Things are on the up and up, both for Morecambe and for the Winter Gardens.
On the Sunday of that weekend, TBH had a mission to perform.
Hazelwood Hall.
She took me to Heald Brow with a hand drawn map she’d been given by a colleague.
TBH on Heald Brow – Bowland Fells on the horizon.
The map showed the location of…
Heald Brow fossilised Nautiloid.
I’ve heard about this impressive fossil a few times from friends in the village, but have never actually managed to find it. With the aid of TBH’s map, we found it this time almost immediately. It’s hard to spot because it’s generally covered with a piece of turf which you’re supposed to replace, although I’m not sure why.
A skein of geese.Post sunset light at The Cove.
Later, I was out again for a wander to the Cove and across the Lots.
After years of not putting out food for the birds because our cats were a bit too interested, we’ve now realised that our one remaining cat is too old, fat and slow (I sympathise) to do any harm anymore. I snaffled a number of feeders from my parents a while ago and since TBH strung them all up (the feeders, not my parents!) from the Silver Birch by our kitchen window they have been giving me a great deal of pleasure ever since.
Starling eating dried meal-worms.Starling on our beech hedge.
Expect a lot more photos of our very varied visitors as I catch-up (ho ho) with the intervening six-months or so.
TBH recently declared herself to be ‘fed up with Whitbarrow’. I suppose we have climbed it quite a few times in recent years, but I’m struggling to imagine getting tired of that prospect.
Foulshaw Moss, The River Kent and Arnside Knott from the south-western tip of Whitbarrow.
On the Sunday after our TMTCH gig, we needed something reasonably local and reasonably short because the forecast suggested that things were going to get very wet later in the day. They did.
A bit of a sit and a chinwag.
Whitbarrow, then was ideal on both counts.
Gummer How, the Lakeland Fells and Lord’s Seat.
Early sunshine soon gave way to much greyer, gloomy skies.
J and MM by the large cairn on Lord’s Seat.A view of the Forest of Bowland Fells, Warton Crag, Arnside Knott and the Kent Estuary.
By the time we were off the hill by Witherslack Hall there were a few drops of moisture in the air.
Chapel Head Scar.Approaching Witherslack Hall.Curious looking cloud over the woods on Yewbarrow.
We almost made it back, but somewhere around Beck Head it began to absolutely chuck it down.
A road turned into a stream.
Not to worry, we’d got out again, and had a fabulous weekend together.
We didn’t walk along the A590. Must have forgotten to pause the app.
Beating The Bounds 