Another Kirkby evening stroll. The heron was there, fishing in much the same spot as last time.
The water looked cool and inviting. I watched as fish jumped from the water to take flies. I felt sure that I would be able to see them swim away under the water, but I couldn’t. Just once I managed to follow the fish briefly, but it was soon lost against the background of rocks and pebbles.
Under Devil’s Bridge some lads were swimming. Very wise.
Ruskin’s View.
Another Wednesday evening with training at Underley Park. Once again I walked down to Devil’s Bridge and here I am posting the same views as I have before. But…here’s my excuse – look at the view above: right in the centre is Brownthwaite Pike, the most prominent hill in the view. It’s illusory, Brownthwaite Pike is not half so prominent as it appears to be: there’s higher ground just behind, and much higher hills behind that, but remember Brownthwaite Pike for a forthcoming post.
Here’s the church again, because….well, because the lengthening evening meant that I was there to see it with the sun still shining on it.
In the Lune, I watched a Heron fishing…
…seemingly quite unperturbed by my attention, and I wished that I didn’t only have my phone with me. I don’t learn, the same thing happened a week later.
The village center had been closed to traffic and there was clearly filming going on…
The square looked to have been dressed to hide any modern features with crates and market stalls. The tarmac was hidden under a layer of soil and several horse-riders were whirling around the small space. They must have finished just after I passed, because the horses and their mounts came past me on their own way back to Underley Park…
I shall look forward to the film.
Woods near High Biggins.
Mid-May and the rugby season has apparently come to an end. Or at least, there was an end-of-season award ceremony organised at Underley Park (midweek training is set to continue, seemingly indefinitely*). The ground was extremely busy, with extra-parking laid on, large marquees and a number of enormous trailers on site, not because of the junior rugby awards, but because Hollywood was in town, filming a scene (or scenes?) for a new Dr Doolittle movie. We kept our eyes-peeled, but Robert Downey Junior and Antonio Banderas weren’t in evidence. Due to all the excitement, the awards were slightly delayed, but the assembled families picnicked, played a little rounders and enjoyed the fabulous weather.
The whole event was over by around two, and having anticipated this, I had decided to fulfil an ambition I’d been nurturing throughout the season: to walk home from Kirkby. In truth, this had not been my original plan, but when TBH made a last minute decision to join the boys and I, I hastily threw my rucksack, maps and a change of shoes into the boot. So that when I set off, I didn’t have a route planned, or know quite how far I would be walking. For that reason I chose not to start from Underley Park, but asked instead to be dropped off in Low Biggins, just across the busy A65 from Kirkby.
Cottages in High Biggins.
A short walk brought me to High Biggins, which seemed a very sleepy place and which I don’t think I’ve ever been through before.
A coat of arms in a wall. Linked to High Biggins Old Hall? (Which I missed somehow, I shall have to come back.)
Heading towards Hutton Roof.
Looking back. Gragareth and Ingleborough on the horizon.
Longfield pano.
The hill on the right here is Scout Hill.
Looking back again.
Hutton Roof Crags and Farleton Fell.
Hutton Roof.
I liked the look of this house, on the outskirts of the hamlet, nestled into the hillside and dated 1874 over the porch door.
On Hutton Roof Crags.
Looking back towards the Middleton Fells.
It was hot. Just before she left me TBH asked if I had enough water and I said that I did. I was wrong. This little puddle…
…,rather a surprise on a limestone hill, was no use to me, sadly.
Farleton Fell. Lake District Fells and Howgills beyond.
I’d climbed on to a path slightly higher than the right-of-way shown on the map, but the views were more than sufficient compensation.
Panorama.
Once I met the Clawthorpe Fell Road I followed that for a while, before picking up Snape Lane and dropping down to Burton-in-Kendal. I’ve walked this way more than once before, so was surprised to come across an entrance into the Lancelot Clarke Storth Nature Reserve which I haven’t used before. I shall have to come back.
Field just outside Burton. These shiny, plastic covered fields seem to be a growing phenomena. Is the plastic acting as a sort of cloche?
Burton-in-Kendal.
Sadly, I didn’t read this sign the first time I walked past it. If I had, I could have saved myself a rather pointless out-and-back.
M6 and Farleton Fell. Some people like these things apparently. Sorry there’s no junction, Andy.
Ash tree, finally coming into leaf.
Beetham Fell in the middle distance, Lakeland Fells beyond.
West of the motorway, there’s a tiny lump called Hanging Hill. I suspect the name probably signifies a grim past. The path doesn’t even cross the highest point, but this modest height has really expansive views.
Hanging Hill pano.
Lancaster Canal.
The map doesn’t show a towpath here, but clearly there is one.
I’d followed this DofE party…
…over Hanging Hill. I found out later that they are friends of A and had been lost, which I was wondering about, because it was quite late on a Sunday afternoon now for them not to have finished. The bright rucksack liners are colour-coded so that different groups from the same school can be easily identified from a distance, which seems like a good idea.
I passed through the tiny hamlet of Hilderstone and then through a section of the walk with very flat farmland and numerous ditches, sharply contrasting with what had come before.
I must have been tired when I reached the A6, that’s my excuse anyway, because I temporarily turned the wrong way. I was worried that the path leaving the A6 might not be very well-used, but I found the stile okay and it wasn’t completely overgrown. The first field though, turned out to be thoroughly water-logged, which didn’t seem to deter the Lapwings which I think were nesting there.
White Moss is relatively close to home and has some permission paths as well as the one shown on the map, and yet it’s many, many years since I last walked here.
I must make more of an effort!
White Moss.
Yealand Hall.
High excitement at the corner of Thrang Brow Lane and Storrs Lane…
I think I counted eight or nine emergency vehicles, some of which were unmarked. I don’t know what had happened, but I hope that everyone was okay.
Copper Beeches on The Row.
Incidentally, there were a few butterflies about, and plenty of birds to enjoy, but I didn’t take any photos, because I only had my phone with me, and anyway was trying not to hang about. The walk was a little over 14 miles, which took me a little over 5 hours, which is a good deal faster than I usually walk, but I wanted to get home in time for my tea. Which I did.
Given that I improvised the route as I went, I think I made some good choices. Next time I walk it, I think I will go over Hutton Roof Crags and down through Lancelot Clark Storth, but otherwise I would probably stick with this route. A pie and a pint in Burton wouldn’t go amiss either!
*Which is a Good Thing. No really, it is a Good Thing. What else would you do with a Wednesday evening in the summer, when the sun is shining and the evenings are long?
These photos are from a couple of weeks ago now. The dying embers of a beautiful sunny evening. As usual, I was in Kirkby Lonsdale for the boys Rugby practice on a Wednesday, and went for a wander along the Lune…
…past Ruskin’s View, through the churchyard and on to Devil’s Bridge. The display of Daffodils by St. Mary’s, and other flower strewn churchyards I’ve seen since, have had me digging out Francesca Greenoak’s book ‘God’s Acre’ which is about the flora and fauna likely to be found in a British churchyard, and, in turn, the title of that book put me in mind of the 10,000 Maniacs song ‘Lilydale’.
Come as we go far away
From the noise of the street
Walk a path so narrow
To a place where we feel at ease
Strange how my mind works: I haven’t listened to that album, ‘Songs from the Wishing Chair’, for years, but, at one time, I listened to it so frequently that I seem to be able to play it mentally on demand on some kind of internal radio.
Meanwhile…
April’s milage keeps me on course for my arbitrary 1000 mile target for the year. Once again, I didn’t match the early enthusiasm of January or February, despite the lighter evenings, but a couple of bouts of illness go some way to account for that. Not to worry, as of today I’ve clocked just over 450 miles so far, so I’m still ahead of schedule.
Right – off to find ‘Songs from the Wishing Chair’, time to get reacquainted with an old favourite.
The Manor House Mill Brow.
These photos are from a Kirkby Lonsdale wander on Sunday morning. The weather was dull and damp again. S had rugby training and B was playing against Upper Eden (Kirkby Stephen). I took a wander down to Devil’s Bridge where a group of paddlers looked to be about to set off in one kayak and several open canoes.
Devil’s Bridge.
It looked like it would be fun, if a little cold.
Royal Hotel.
Market Cross and Abbot’s Hall.
This is Swine Market, close to both the river and the church. The market cross, which is medieval was moved here from Market Square in 1819 apparently and sometime in the nineteenth century the ball on the top was added. The house behind is Abbot Hall, also medieval according to a sign attached to the wall nearby, but seventeenth century if you believe wikipedia.
St. Mary’s.
TBH and I were out again later, to check on the Snowdrops in the woods by Hawes Water, which were indeed flowering, but my photo didn’t come out well in the gloom.
It all adds to the tally however. So, how am I going on in my bid to hit 1000 miles in 2018? Here’s my January calendar from MapMyWalk…
So, 56 walkabouts, none of them particularly long, but making just over 134 miles all told, far surpassing the 80 odd miles I need each month. Twenty-eight thousand calories equates, as anyone who has read as many books on food and nutrition as I have knows, to eight pounds of fat burned. Although both the calorie total and the assumption that a straightforward calories in calories out model is valid need to be taken with a huge pinch of salt in my opinion. I’m pretty sure I haven’t lost eight pounds, sadly. However, I’ll weigh myself tomorrow morning, then I can make a more informed comparison in a month’s time.
Bring on February.
Beating The Bounds 