The Wrong Trousers

Ward’s Stone from Baines Cragg.

Early in May, we met up with our old friends for a walk, and to celebrate Andy’s birthday. We had the least far to travel, since we were meeting at the Littledale carpark on the edge of the Forest of Bowland, not too far from Lancaster. So, naturally, never knowingly on time for anything, we were the last to arrive. I think the last of Andy’s bacon butties had yet to be washed down with a mug of tea at that point, so we may not have delayed things too much.

Leaving the cars, we started with an easy ascent of Baines Cragg, which, despite many previous visits to this area, I’ve never climbed before – it turned out to be an excellent viewpoint. It’s a shame the skies were so grey – I shall have to go back and have another look when the weather is more clement.

Bluebells in Cragg Wood

Crossing Ottergear Bridge, part of the Thirlmere Aqueduct.

Apparently the Thirlmere Aqueduct, which transports water from the Lake District to Manchester, is the longest gravity-fed aqueduct in Britain (source).

The track which crosses Ottergear Bridge was presumably constructed as part of the engineering work related to the aqueduct. It took us to the path which climbs Clougha Pike from the Rigg Lane car park.

Slow Worm

When we lived on The Row, we used to see Slow Worms in our garden quite often. They seemed to like our compost heaps. B did once find one in our current garden, but that was years ago.

They are thought to be the longest-lived of all lizards; the remarkable age of 54 years has been reliably recorded.

from ‘Fauna Britannica’ by Stefan Buczacki

Brew/lunch/cake stop number 1.

Looking over Caton Moor towards Ingleborough.

Andy Goldsworthy sculpture.

TBH in one of the sculptures.

Below the sculptures we found a sheltered spot, out of the wind, for our second cake/brew/lunch stop. For me, this was a highlight of the day. The heathery slope was comfortable, the view to the north, if somewhat hazy and grey, was still extensive and, above all else, the company was excellent.

Ward’s Stone.

Andy had been keen to tick-off Ward’s Stone, but the weather wasn’t great, so we decided to follow this track which looped around Grit Fell and then come back over the top of Grit Fell.

It was along here somewhere that ‘the trouser incident’ occurred. J has a pair of waterproof overtrousers, apparently designed for cross-country skiing, with zips down both the inside and the outside of both legs – making it possible, in theory, to put them on whilst wearing skis. However, with all 4 zips undone, and in a strong wind with driving rain, the trousers had 4 long flapping pieces and even without the encumbrance of skis, try as she might, J couldn’t get them on. It didn’t help that she got the giggles, which turned out to be infectious and soon, whilst TBF and TBH tried to help, the rest of us were doubled-up laughing and making entirely unhelpful suggestions. Eventually, the trousers were tamed, just about in time for the fierce shower to come to an end.

TBF, J and TBH heading to Grit Fell, Ward’s Stone behind. Hats, gloves, full waterproofs – a wintery May!

Ingleborough. And showers over The Lune valley.

On Grit Fell.

Our descent route.

Brew stop number 3. It started to rain moments after we sat down.

My phone batteries packed up (temporarily) near the end of the walk – I think it may have been because I let my phone get too wet – hence the gap in the route.

Andy’s account, with a better map, better photos etc is here.

Whose birthday is next?

Whinfell Common and the ‘Other’ Borrowdale

Tebay Gorge.

As travel restrictions were relaxed, Britain’s new found fervour for getting into the outdoors wasn’t abating at all. Old certainties regarding parking could no longer be relied upon. In the past, car parks would generally have spaces before about 10 and remote and less popular spots would never fill up anyway. On this occasion, we were meeting at the small parking space just off the A685, close to Low Borrow Bridge in the Tebay Gorge. At 9 it was already full, but I managed to squeeze in by parking behind a couple of friends cars, blocking them in.

Between Little Coum and Great Coum on Grayrigg Pike, a few bends in the contours hint at the possibility of a pleasant ridge route to the top. I’ve become a bit obsessed recently about finding these off-piste routes. I knew this one was good because I’ve been this way before. And I’m not the only one to have noticed it, since there’s actually a faint trod following the ridge all the way to the summit cairn.

All along that path, and, in fact, generally along the subsequent ridge route, we saw regular grey curls of…

Fox scat.

Full of tiny bones and hair and often situated on a prominent rock or small mound by the path. I was confident at the time that this was Fox scat and I’m even surer now that I’ve had a chance to do a little research. For some reason the EWO took exception to my identification. I don’t know why he chose to argue, it’s not like I ever disagree when he’s pontificating about his chosen area of expertise, the weather. Oh wait – I always disagree when he’s opining about the weather. Fair enough.

Actually, I realise, that’s what the EWO have always done when we’re out for a walk together, hashing over the latest news in politics, or conservation efforts, or the measures around COVID19, or the most recent stupid fads in education, or whether the midfield can accommodate both Gerard and Lampard (we’ve been doing this for a long time!). I think it’s only by adopting a contrary position whilst gently arguing with the EWO or UF on a walk, that I know what I actually think about an issue.

Grayrigg Pike – the first of many tea stops.

It was my dad’s birthday, so I video-called from Grayrigg Pike and chatted with him and my mum and shared the somewhat hazy views whilst enjoying a cup of almond tea.

The onward route – Whinfell Common.

The weather wasn’t brilliant, but it wasn’t dreadful either, and with such good company and the ridge almost to ourselves it made for a very fine day.

Whinfell Beacon

Looking back to Grayrigg Forest.

Looking back again, Grayrigg Forest on the left, Whinfell Beacon on the right.

The way ahead, Castle Fell and a tree-covered Mabbin Crag behind.

Stone shelter on Mabbin Crag.

Around the cairn on Mabbin Crag.

It’s a lovely ridge walk this, not spectacular, but little walked. I was highly amused by the Prof, by far the youngest member of the party, who skirted around Whinfell whilst the rest of us went up, and then moaned in disbelieve each time he realised we had another ascent to deal with over Castle Fell, Mabbin Crag and Ashstead Fell (which has a number of knobbles to be ascended).

On Ashstead Fell, Mabbin Crag behind.

On Ashstead Fell, looking into the upper reaches of Borrowdale.

Borrow Beck.

Aside from a pleasant leg-stretcher in good company, I’d been looking forward to this walk because Borrow Beck is a tributary of the Lune and therefore a part of my Lune Catchment project. I’ve never walked along the valley before and it didn’t disappoint. We even squeezed in one final brew stop on the banks of the beck.

Rough Crag and Castle Fell.

Wandering down Borrowdale.

All-in-all, a grand day out.

Andy’s account of the day, with somehow slightly less grey looking photos, and a map is here.

Andy reckons 11 miles and 2,500 foot of ascent. MapMyWalk gives 12 miles, but only around 1,800 feet. I’m not sure which to believe.

Roaches Romp

Hen Cloud

Long-suffering adherents of this blog will know that on my birthday I like to climb a hill, preferably with some company.

Rockhall

This year we interpreted the latest, long-awaited, relaxation of the Covid rules to imply that we could travel beyond our immediate area and also meet up with some friends.

Hen Cloud again.

The forecast was from from perfect, but the day started very well: cold admittedly, but also bright and clear.

Little S on the Roaches

Tittesworth Resevoir – Leek beyond.

Roaches rock formations.

The Trig Pillar.

I have a feeling that these rock towers are probably all named.

Lunch/brew stop number one.

Out of the cold wind, and in the sunshine, it even felt quite warm.

The DBs

Back Forest. Shutlingsloe on the right.

Lud’s Church.

The DBs again.

TBF crossing the stepping stones in Black Brook.

We had a second stop, in a sheltered little lane above the River Dane, if anything even warmer than the first.

After that, the weather deteriorated rapidly…

Heavy snow!

Again, this Tor surely has a name, but it isn’t on the OS map.

Lunch/brew stop number three. Ill-advised!

For a while it came down thick and fast, in sharp contrast to what had come before.

We slightly shortened our intended route, taking a more direct route back towards the cars.

Tittesworth reservoir again, backed by ominous clouds.

Only for the weather to abruptly improve again.

Hen Cloud again.

One final view over Tittesworth reservoir.

It as a terrific outing, just what the doctor ordered.

Andy has a fuller account here, with a wider selection of photos and a map of our route.

Late March

As if to prove my point that working for a living, or at least commuting to work, really gets in the way of enjoying life, my MapMyWalk account shows almost daily walks through January, February and up to the 7^th of March. Schools reopened on the 8^th and for the next fortnight I don’t seem to have walked very far or very often at all.

Anyway, eventually I started to get out and about again:

The 20^th

Greenfinch

Whilst chaffinches seem to be flourishing, I feel like I don’t see nearly as many Greenfinches now as I did even five years ago. Hardly scientific, I know, but worrying none the less.

Greenfinch having a bit of a shake.

This one was having a good old spring sing-song. It was one of many birds in evidence in the hedges and trees in the caravan park at Far Arnside, but the only one content to pose for a portrait.

Daffodils in the woods near Far Arnside.

I think this was the walk when I bumped into an old friend and colleague who I hadn’t seen for years. We sat at opposite ends of a bench and had a very long chat. Some of her news was sad, but it was still good to catch up.

Green Hellebore in the woods near Far Arnside.

As so often on a walk round the coast, it was the sky and the light on the bay which were the stars of the show.

A Common Whelk shell. Perhaps.

White Creek

Small Egret.

For once I didn’t go all the way around to Arnside, or climb the Knott, but at White Creek doubled back on the higher path which parallels the coastal one and returns to Far Arnside.

The ‘higher ‘ path.

Calves at Far Arnside.

The 21st

In the morning, TBH and I completed our usual Sunday trip around Jenny Brown’s Point.

And the afternoon brought a trip to The Lots.

The 27th

A Roe Deer buck in the garden. There’s still some fur on his antlers. And his winter coat is looking extremely shabby.

A very grey day, I think. This photo from the Cove is a bit shy of any colour.

The 28th

He’s back! It looks like he has some bits of moss on his antlers. My guess is that he’s been rubbing them on any available surface in an attempt to remove the itchy bits of skin.

I’m quite surprised by the very red tinge of his antlers. I suppose that’s because they still have a blood supply, although mature antlers, once the covering skin has been shed are dead bone, I think.

Another grey day. Another trip to The Cove…

The 30th

Blue skies at last! And a high tide in Quicksand Pool.

The Bay is well-known for its rapid tides. On this occasion we watched what looked like some very powerful cross-currents at Jenny Brown’s Point.

White Violets.

Right. April in my sights…

A February Florilegium

So: Operation Catch-up is underway. February gets just a single post. Lots of short walks in February, nothing much further than 5 miles and often shorter than that. No ascents of Arnside Knot, but endless trips to Jenny Brown’s Point. I see, from MapMyWalk, that there were a couple of spells when I didn’t get out for several days running – I think a combination of work, inclement weather and decorating were to blame (decorating, I have decided, is one of TBH’s hobbies). As far as I remember, I only left the immediate area once all month.

I think it’s fair to say that the weather was quite variable, as you might expect in February, but as my photos show, there was some blue sky about too from time to time.

The 1^st

A distant view of the Howgills

The Dale and The Forest of Bowland from Castlebarrow.

The 2^nd

A had a physio appointment in Lancaster. Whilst she was there, I took the opportunity to have a wander around Williamson Park and the grounds of the University of Cumbria (in Lancaster, in Lancashire, I know?).

Williamson Park fountain.

The Ashton Memorial

The view over Lancaster and Morecambe to the Lakes from the Ashton Memorial. Shame about the light.

The 4^th

TBH and I were out for our habitual circuit via The Cove and The Lots. We met A walking with her friend S, The Tower Captain’s daughter, and their dogs Hanley and Bramble.

Dark cloud sunset from The Lots

The 5^th

Silverdale Moss from the rim of Middlebarrow Quarry.

A flooded path in Middlebarrow Wood.

Late light at Hawes Water.

The 6^th

A Charm of Goldfinches.

Silverdale Moss.

The 7^th

Leaden skies over Eaves Wood.

A fierce hail shower.

Drifted hail by Quicksand Pool.

The 8^th

Clougha Pike from Heald Brow.

The 9^th

Snowdrops.

A couple of hedgerows close to home were cut right back, down to the ground, but the roots weren’t dug out, I don’t think, so hopefully they’ll eventually grow back. (Must check on their progress.)

I love the shape of the oaks when their branches are bare.

Late light from Castlebarrow

The 10^th

Several different breeds of sheep here; I think the large one in the middle foreground is a Valais Blacknose sheep, presumably enjoying the ‘Alpine’ conditions in Silverdale. I’ve been racking my brains trying to remember wether I ever noticed any sheep like this when, years ago, I holidayed in Saas Fee, in the Valais Canton of Switzerland, but I can’t recall.

Sunset from Castlebarrow.

Post sunset from The Lots.

The 11^th

One of several photos I attempted to take of the sky, which had some interesting colours, during a wander around Middlebarrow Woods, where it’s quite hard to find a view which is uninterrupted by trees.

The 12^th

Warton Crag from the Salt Marsh.

This view was massively enhanced by the presence of a large flock of birds, which, unfortunately, were too far away to show up very well in the photograph.

Sunset from Quicksand Pool.

And from Jack Scout.

The 13^th

A photograph taken from much the same place as the one two above. A very high tide.

The Forest of Bowland across Quicksand Pool.

Warton Crag from close to the old Copper Smelting Works chimney.

The cliffs of Jack Scout, Grange-Over-Sands and a distant view of snowy Coniston Fells.

The 14^th

High Tide again! Warton Crag across Quicksand Pool.

The 15^th

A gloomy day. Grange-Over-Sands from The Cove late in the day.

The 16^th

The same view the next day. Looking much brighter here…

But it turned wet later. With TBH and Little S on Castlebarrow.

The 21^st

A walk across the sands, the first for quite some time, with TBH and A, from The Cove to Know Point. It was clearly ‘blueing up’ as Andy often says, so I tried to persuade them both to carry on around Jenny Brown’s Point with me, but I think lunch was calling, so I had to settle for continuing on my own.

The chimney again.

The grassy bank here was been eroding rapidly, revealing this clearly man made feature. Apparently there was once a small wharf here – could this be a remnant?

The 22^nd

The Forest of Bowland from Heald Brow.

The 25^th

Plenty of rain in February – the two seasonal springs at the Cove were both flowing freely.

Looking to Grange again.

Late light from Castlebarrow.

The 26^th

Heald Brow again.

Late afternoon light on Warton Crag and Quicksand Pool.

The stone seat at Jack Scout.

Looking towards Morecambe and Heysham from Jack Scout.

Sunset from Jack Scout.

The 28^th

High tide at Quicksand Pool again.

A scramble on the rocks required to get to Jenny Brown’s Point.

The two small figures on the water are on stand-up paddle boards, the toy of choice this summer it seems. It looked idyllic, I have to say. We debated whether we could use our inflatable kayaks in a similar fashion – we haven’t done to date, but maybe this reminder will galvanise some action on my part?

Winter Aconites

Winter Aconites, as promised.

After my two walk Saturday – a two walk Sunday. Every year, January always seems to find me at a peak of motivation to get outside, I’m not entirely sure why.

One reason to get out on Sunday morning was that I’d seen, on a local Facebook page, photos of these very cheery aconites. I believe this field, near the ‘new’ Cricket pitch, was donated to the National Trust, but the owners first planted this strip with spring bulbs.

I’ve cheated slightly – the photos of the aconites came from the second walk, when the light was better. I’d already seen them on the second of my Saturday walks, but it was virtually dark at that time so I hadn’t taken any photos. Since I knew that TBH would appreciate them, we diverged slightly from our usual Sunday morning routine and set-off that way and then crossed the still snowy Lots…

A bit of blue sky over Grange – a hint of what was to come.

Our Sunday morning walk, easily completed in an hour and a half, often took over two hours, and on this occasion, admittedly when we took a different, slightly longer, route, stretched to three hours. The reason for this variation being the many conversations we had with friends from the village we met whilst out and about. On this walk we bumped into our friend R, who was walking her dog, and she joined us for a socially-distanced chat. Then we met two groups of mutual friends and stopped both times for lengthy catch-ups. It was all very pleasant, if a little cold.

Because we were walking around Jenny Brown’s Point every Sunday, we were able to watch the rapid changes of the course of Quicksand Pool and the decay of the steep bank on the far side of the stream. We didn’t have to admire the view for long before we would witness large chunks tumble into the water.

Although we were now back on our usual route, we were walking widdershins, in the opposite direction to our habitual outing, and now decided to return via Heald Brow rather than up through Fleagarth Wood. I can’t remember why, probably because it’s more direct and and TBH was ready for some lunch, having been out for so long.

The white hills just peaking above the horizon in this photo are the Coniston Fells.

Conscious of how early it would get dark, I had other plans for my lunch, especially since it had suddenly brightened up. I thought a picnic lunch and another walk would be just the ticket; but I’ll save that for another post.

The Weather is Variable

TBH by the Pepper Pot.

Photos from a week’s worth of walks from back in January. This first is from the Sunday, the day after the glorious Saturday which featured in my previous post. As you can see, the snow was gone and so too the blue skies and sunshine.

The lights of Grange from the Cove.

Monday must have been another drear day, because I had a reasonably substantial stroll after work, but only took photos from The Cove when it was almost dark.

On the Tuesday, I didn’t start teaching until after 11 and so took the opportunity to have a wander around Jenny Brown’s Point.

The path down from Fleagarth Wood

The weather was a complete contrast from the day before. I think it was even quite mild.

Farleton Fell in the distance.

Quicksand Pool.

The tide was well in.

Smelting works chimney.

Mergansers. I think.

Jack Scout coast. Coniston Fells on the horizon.

The drab, dingy weather returned on Wednesday and Thursday.

Wednesday – Elmaslack Lane.

Around the village, people had put their Christmas lights up early and now left them up late.

Thursday – The Green, another late afternoon walk.

Using MapMyWalk usually persuades me to take at least one photo on each walk, so that I can attach it the file for that walk. I quite like having a visual record even of the gloomy days.

Friday brought a hard frost in the morning.

Frosty windscreen.

And the longest walk of the week in the afternoon (only about six and a half miles).

Wigeon (male).

I actually took lots of bird photos, particularly of a Little Egret which was close in shore, but the light was a bit weird…

Lovely, but weird.

Rounding Arnside Point into the Kent I was surprised to see that Hampsfell and the other hills across the river had a covering of snow.

And then, when I climbed to Heathwaite, I discovered that we had some too…

In fact, on the Knott, there was quite a bit…

It was getting late, and I had the top to myself. I was disproportionately chuffed to have found some snow to crunch, and had a good wander around the highest part of the Knott.

Obligatory winter photo of flooded Lambert’s Meadow.

The weekend brought more cloud and damp.

On the Sunday, I walked our now habitual Sunday circuit around Jenny Brown’s Point not once but twice, in the morning with our neighbour BB…

And in the afternoon, with TBH.

The tide well in at Quicksand Pool again.

Over the eight days represented here, I walked around thirty miles. Hardly earth-shattering, but not bad for a week when I was working and when daylight was at a premium. Working form home is a completely useless way to teach, but, from a completely selfish point of view, I was all in favour.

——————————————————————————————————————–

So, pop-picker’s, the post’s title is from a song which, I’m pretty sure, I’ve shared here before.

The weather’s variable – so are you
But I can’t do a thing – about the weather

Here’s another couplet:

You dislike the climate but you like the place
I hope you learn to live with what you choose

Anybody know it? It’s from an album called ‘Magic, Murder and The Weather’ if that helps?

Snowy Scenes, a Murmuration and a Sunset

With snow on the ground, a little bit of mist about and a fairly clear sky, worth getting out for an early work. Not that you need to be up that early here in early January to catch the sunrise.

The mist hides the village.

I had a short walk, across the fields and then up into Eaves Wood.

Later I was out again and did a very similar walk with the next door neighbours who had a chore to do at the Silver Sapling campsite, probably breaking the rules in some way into the bargain.

Our friend BB.

Silver Sapling.

Later still, I was out on my own again, wandering around Jenny Brown’s Point. The light was superb.

Right through the winter, there’s a really impressive Starling Murmuration and roost at Leighton Moss. Of late, I haven’t made the effort to get down there to see it often enough. On this occasion, as I walked along the top of the small cliffs of Jack Scout, part of the murmuration flew along the coast behind me and swooped past me following the cliffs. Usually the Starlings fly just above the treetops, but this time, where there weren’t any trees, they were low, hugging the cliffs, and so I was enveloped in the flock and in the astonishing whirr of thousands of wings. It was breathtaking. They came around three or four more times, but never quite so close.

The sunset was highly impressive. I watched for ages, taking lots of photos (on my phone, I didn’t have my camera with me). When the cold started to seep into my bones, I set off for home, but then, looking behind me, realised that the colours had intensified even further. I went back to the clifftop to take more photos, but then my phone’s battery died.

Unlike my camera, my phone seems, if anything, to rather underplay the colours of a sunset. This one really was spectacular. Especially after the battery had died. You’ll just have to take my word for it!

Another very memorable day, chiefly because of the Starlings.

A Walk with X-Ray and Boot Review Update.

X-Ray on the Lune Aqueduct, just before he produced a flask of tea and two cups from his bag. What a gent.

X-Ray has appeared on this blog from time to time over the years. He’s an old friend who is always great company on a walk. We play in a pub quiz team together, but the pandemic put paid to that and when he rang me over Christmas I realised that I hadn’t seen him since the start of lockdown. A get together seemed called for and we eventually agreed on a walk around Lancaster. It was a glorious sunny day, lots of other people had a similar idea to us and were out for a post Christmas ramble in the unexpected sunshine. I probably should have taken a few more photographs, but X-Ray and I had a lot of catching-up to do, and anyway, whenever we get together we seem to able to fill several hours with non-stop conversation. On this occasion, without really realising it, we managed eight miles of blether before we’d found our way back to X-Ray’s flat.

Freeman’s Pools

We talked, among other things, about work; the pandemic, of course; pensions I seem to remember – probably an age thing; and about shoes. X-Ray had been reluctant to come for a walk from Silverdale to Arnside because he has no comfortable walking boots. For our walk he was wearing, I think, a pair of trainers with part of the toes removed. He finds it very difficult to buy shoes or boots which are wide enough for his feet, as do I. I told him about my Altberg boots, which I bought at Whalley Warm and Dry and which, after 5 years of use, are a little scuffed but otherwise as good as new. In fact, I’m wearing them more and more, as I find that they are consistently the most comfortable footwear I own. Anyway, X-Ray rang me last week and told me that he has an appointment next week at Whalley Warm and Dry to get some boots fitted. Hopefully, he can find something which is a good fit, and then we can get out for a walk somewhere a little further afield. Remembering our chat has also got me thinking about maybe going back myself to try a pair of Altberg shoes.

Talking of kit, we were out for a family walk later that same day, after sunset, to try out a Christmas present, a wooly hat with an integral head-torch.

As you can see, although the sun had already set, the light was rather nice.

I was jealous of B’s hat which, as well as a light, incorporates bluetooth headphones. What a great idea!

Warrendale Knotts

Above Settle.

The weekend before Christmas, when we would, in normal circumstances, be gathered together for a wet weekend of overeating, anecdote bingo, and maybe a bit of walking. Obviously that couldn’t happen last year. At least we could meet up for a walk. Sadly, the Surfnslide crew were self-isolating and weren’t able to join us.

Rainbow over Settle. Glad I got that sheet of corrugated iron in the foreground!

We met in Settle with a view to climb Warrendale Knotts. I suggested we divert slightly from our planned itinerary to take a look at Scaleber Force…

Scaleber Force.

I’d noticed that a small section of woodland here is access land, and that a right-of-way drops down to the bottom of the falls and then abruptly stops.

The EWO and Scaleber Force.

I think you’ll agree, it was worth a little out-and-back along a minor lane to see it. We found a likely spot, out of the wind, for an early lunch spot, thinking shelter might be at a premium later in the walk. Naturally, once we’d settled down, it began to rain. This seems to have been a recurring theme when we’ve met for walks of late.

Pendle Hill. Plus more corrugated iron.

High Hill Lane – that’s High Hill straight ahead.

It brightened up and we had a lovely sunny spell back along High Hill Lane.

But it was soon grey and wet again. It was that sort of day.

Warrendale Knotts.

The route we took up Warrendale Knotts proved to be ridiculously steep near the top, but it was well worth the effort…

Attermire Scar from Warrendale Knotts. The distant big hole in the middle of the picture is Victoria Cave.

On Warrendale Knotts.

We spent quite some time on this modest top. It was very windy, but with the clouds scudding across the views were constantly changing and very dramatic.

Crepuscular Rays.

Warrendale Knotts and Attermire Scar. Rye Loaf Hill on the right.

Pen-y-ghent

Pen-y-ghent and one of the cairns on Warrendale Knotts. Is that Fountains Fell in the cloud on the right?

Leaving the top.

Eventually, we had to move on. In fact, the Cheshire contingent had some pressing engagement and we chose to walk with them, initially at least, and so by-passed Victoria Cave.

Another view of Pen-y-ghent.

The weather deteriorated again, but the Adopted Yorkshire Woman assured us that she remembered a shelter, or possibly a cave, in the vicinity of Jubilee Cave, which would be kitted out with comfortable benches and provide a pleasant dry spot for another lunch stop. Sadly, it never materialised. Hard words may have been spoken about the vividness of the AYW’s imagination.

Jubilee Cave.

AT Jubilee Cave, the Cheshire crew left us to take a direct route back to Settle, whilst the remainder of our small party returned to Settle via Winskill and Langcliffe. That’s a very pleasant route, but I didn’t take any more photos, because the rain returned and this time it meant business. We did enjoy a brief dry spell and had a hurried stop in order to drain the dregs from our flasks, but by the time we reached the cars it was chucking it down. A small price to pay for a terrific walk though.

The day before this walk I uninstalled and reinstalled MapMyWalk. It worked, so here’s the resultant map. I think the numbers are kilometres, although the 4 and 6 seem a bit odd?

Warrendale Knotts, not named on the OS 1:50,000 is the trig pillar with a psot height of 440m.

I’ve never climbed Warrendale Knotts before, and I still haven’t been up Rye Loaf Hill. Looking at the map of the Dales, it also occurs to me that I haven’t been up Great Shunner Fell or Buckden Pike or Fountains Fell since the mid-eighties. Which seems criminal given that they’re all relatively close to home. Aside from the Three Peaks area, the closest bit to home, I’ve been neglecting the Dales. I have a lot of exploring to do!