Easter Saturday Summerhouse Hill

Peacock Butterfly

Easter Sunday brought some warm weather, warm enough for butterflies anyway!

TBH and I had a local wander, around Hawes Water, across Yealand Allotment, over Cringlebarrow to Summer House Hill and back via Leighton Moss.

Comma and photo-bombing Shield Bug, which I’ve only just noticed.

Violets and old Beech leaves.

A field on Cringlebarrow completely enclosed by woods.

The foundations are all that remains of the Summer House on Summer House Hill.

Three of the Summer House Hill Standing Stones.

I’ve always been a bit sceptical about the Standing Stones on Summer House Hill, there are only four of them after all, which doesn’t really seem to add up to a ‘circle’ as such. I should have done my research more thoroughly! The Historic England website reveals that it is a scheduled monument, and that a 1930s survey found ‘socket-holes’ where 13 additional stones were originally sited and signs of a shallow ditch which ran around the circle. I wonder whether there’s a connection to the large walls on nearby Warton Crag, now thought to be Bronze Age?

A new bench on Summer House Hill – another monument of sorts.

The new bench is one of several which overlook….

Leighton Hall, Leighton Moss, Arnside Knott and Grange.

Heading home.

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Ingleborough and Whernside from Ingleton

Ingleton – Fell Lane – Crina Bottom – Ingleborough – Park Fell – Colt Park – Sleights Pasture Rocks – Ivescar – Winterscales – Little Dale – Force Gill – Whernside – High Pike – Combe Scar – West Fell – Ewes Top – Twistleton Hall – River Doe – Ingleton.

Milestone just outside Ingleton.

A long walk, by my standards at least. I wanted to test my fitness and how my preparation for the 10 in 10 challenge was coming along. The forecast wasn’t great, but the weather for the Dales looked like a much better bet than than the Lakes – hence my choice of route.

I didn’t descend from Whernside in a perfectly straight line, as this map suggests. The battery on my phone ran down and the app has simply connected the final point at which I checked my distance travelled with the point at which I was able to recharge my phone, which was when I got back to the car. I now realise that my phone was constantly searching for a signal (I didn’t have one all day) and that was why the battery drained so quickly. Apparently, aeroplane mode is the way to go. (Andy subsequently explained this to me – he knows about new-fangled gadgets and stuff like phone batteries).

Anyway, mapmywalk gives this approximate route as roughly 20 miles and 3500′ of ascent. I suspect the actual figures are slightly higher, but probably not much.

Ingleton from Fell Lane.

Ingleborough from just above Crina Bottom.

Approaching the final climb on to Ingleborough.

By the time I’d reached this point, the wind was really picking up and I’d added extra layers. The warmth of earlier in the week was not at all in evidence.

Purple Saxifrage on the limestone crags just short of the top of Ingleborough.

Looking back to Ingleborough from the path which skirts Simon Fell.

The large exposed summit plateau on Ingleborough was extremely windy. I couldn’t even find much respite in the shelter near the top, even though that has walls in a cross shape – you’d think at least one of the spaces created would be out of the wind, but none was very sheltered. Just off the top, I met two chaps who were crouched behind a large boulder, where there was a modicum of relief, one of whom was looking rather shaken. They warned me that the next section of ridge would be challenging, and they weren’t wrong. Fortunately, it was short lived, but it was so blowy on the first part of the descent that it was difficult not to stumble and stagger around.

Looking back to Inglebrough from the col just before Park Fell.

Handsome hairy caterpillar. I can’t identify which species.

In the vicinity of Sleights Pasture Rocks, I stopped for some lunch behind a curious section of drystone wall. It was very tall, but only about 20 yards long, connecting a couple of large boulders. I couldn’t see what purpose it could possibly serve, apart from to provide me with a lovely sun-trap for my lunch. Down here between the hills, it was actually beginning to feel quite warm. There were even a few butterflies about.

Ribblehead viaduct, Pen-y-ghent in the background.

Little Dale Beck, just beyond Winterscales.

Force Gill.

From Force Gill, I followed the path which climbs gradually towards Whernside. Just short of the ridge I met a couple who warned me that the wind on the ridge was ‘horrendous’ and that they had turned back because of it. I stopped to put on another layer, my coat, gloves and a balaclava. I needed them all. A small group passed me and I watched them staggering along the path. At this point, the path runs right along the rim of a steep edge. The wind was slamming full on to that face and then roaring up and over the edge. It was very tough going. I decided to hop over the fence and then through a gap in the wall which runs along the other side of the path.

At that point, I finally fell over, something which had been threatening to happen since I’d emerged into the full blast of the wind. On the ground, behind the wall, it was wonderfully sheltered and I lay there for a while to get my breath back. Walking on the far side of the wall and back from the edge proved to be much easier than walking on the path had been, although it was still very windy.

On the top, I chatted to a couple who were walking all of the Three Peaks and seemed to be having something of a torrid time. I suspect it was probably dark well before they finished.

Fortunately, as I descended the wind abated steadily. Eventually, I even felt I could remove some of those extra layers again.

Looking back to Whernside.

Ingleborough.

The OS map shows a standing stone on Ewes Top Moss which has been incorporated into a wall. I think this must be it.

By this point in the day, I was beginning to flag, and had emptied both of my water bottles. The walk down along the River Doe is lovely, but I’d forgotten how much up and down it entails and would frankly have preferred a more straightforward last lap.

In all though, a superb route and a great day, although much colder and windier than the photos suggest.

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In the summer, I shall be attempting to complete the annual 10 in 10 challenge. Briefly, the idea is to walk a route over 10 Wainwrights in 10 hours or less.  You can find out more here.

The event is a fundraiser and I’m hoping to get some sponsorship for the Multiple Sclerosis Society. My Just Giving page is here. All donations, however small, will be most welcome. I should add that the sponsorship is not a condition of my entry and that I’ve already paid a fee to enter which covers all costs, so all sponsor money would go directly to charity.

Half-term Happenings: Back to Little Salkeld

Addingham Church.

We were all keen to get out for a family walk, none more so than my dad, but he struggles with the cold these days and I wanted to find a route which had both the potential for a good walk, but also the option to cut the walk short if need be. After a bit of deliberation, I hit upon the idea of two shorter walks based around Little Salkeld in the Eden valley. We parked initially by Addingham Church near the village of Glassonby (curiously, the village of Addingham no longer exists).

This walk, or variations on it, have become a firm favourite of ours. Here’s A beside the Saxon Cross in the churchyard…

And here she is posing for a similar photo back in 2011….

In the intervening years the cross seems to have shrunk!

I can rarely resist the temptation to have a peek inside any churches I pass and Addingham certainly repays the effort. The lady on the right here is St. Cecilia, an early Christian martyr. I thought that the instrument she’s shown playing seemed entirely unlikely, but apparently she is often depicted playing it and it’s a real instrument – a portative organ or organetto. My lazy internet research also revealed that St. Cecilia appeared on the reverse of the old Edward Elgar £20 note.

There she is bottom left, beneath Worcester Cathedral. Presumably because she is the patron saint of musician’s. I can’t say that I’ve ever realised that she was there. How many times I have handled notes like this one, over the years, without ever really looking at them?

Then again, I didn’t know that King David is traditionally associated with the harp either, a fact which appears in the Book of Samuel, just before the more familiar story of David and Goliath.

Talking of familiar stories, here’s Saint George and the unfortunate dragon in my favourite window at Addingham.

Addingham also has two hogback gravestones, which, I’ve learned, were unique to the Viking settlers in Britain and haven’t been found in Scandinavia. The best preserved example is at St. Peters in Heysham, which I’ve walked past many times, but never been inside – an omission I must rectify soon.

It’s a short downhill stroll from Addingham Church to the huge stone circle of Long Meg and her Daughters.

I didn’t take many photos on this occasion, just these of my mum and Dad and my brother, but the stones have appeared on the blog many times before.

Winter Aconites on a roadside verge.

Another short stroll brings you to Little Salkeld, where we enjoyed a fabulous lunch in the cafe at the Watermill….

Steve and I then walked briskly back up to collect the cars and park them in Little Salkeld, whilst the rest set-off for a wander along the River Eden to Lacy’s Caves…

We managed to catch them up at the caves themselves.

By the time we had turned to walk back to Little Salkeld, an already cold day had become even colder, but that didn’t detract from a marvellous family outing.

Lacy’s Caves and Long Meg

A Saturday afternoon and we decided to dragoon the boys into coming out for a walk with us. In honesty, I can’t remember how we arrived at the decision to repeat a walk along the River Eden, taking in Little Salkeld Watermill, Lacy’s Caves and the Long Meg and her Daughters stone circle, but it was a good choice.

We began with lunch in the cafe at the mill, which was delicious, then set off towards the river. There was a paper notice tacked to the signpost indicating that some part of the footpath had been damaged by flooding and then closed, but the notice looked quite old, so we decided to ignore it.

TBH and I have done this walk three times now, and each time we’ve seen lots of Buzzards in this first part of the walk. Closer to hand, there were flowers and insects to admire and a tree heavily laden with rather tart apples.

Small White Butterfly on some sort of Hawk’s-beard, possibly Rough Hawk’s-beard.

Tachina Fera.

Forest Bug.

More fungi.

Earthballs.

A weir on the Eden. Force Mill opposite.

We did eventually see some signs of flood damage, but that had nothing to do with what happened next. I’m not sure how, but I lost my footing and fell down the steep bank towards the river. Little S was first to react, grabbing hold of my ankle as I slid down the slope, which, frankly, could have ended badly for him,  but between us we managed to halt my fall. I was a bit bruised and grazed, my camera took a whack, and I think we were all  slightly shaken, but ultimately, no harm was done.

The view of the River Eden from Lacy’s Caves.

Lacy’s Caves.

These are not natural caves, but were hewn from the rock by order of the local landowner Colonel Samuel Lacy. There are several connected ‘rooms’. One of them still has some planks in it and some metal brackets fastened to the wall, as if there had been a bench or a bed here. Apparently, Lacy may have paid someone to live in the caves as a ‘hermit’, which was a fashionable thing to do for a time. There are more pictures of the caves here, from our last family visit, made at a time when Little S genuinely was still little.

The boys may be practically grown up now, but they weren’t above a game of hide and seek in the caves, which, I’ll admit, was pretty hilarious.

I remember these wooden posts from last time too. This is one from a series erected around the Eden Valley area and designed by artist Pip Hall. They’re textured so that rubbings can be taken.

Mixed flock of Jackdaws and Rooks.

More fungi.

One of Long Meg’s daughters.

More daughters with Cross Fell in the cloud and the radar station on Great Dun Fell behind.

The uncountable daughters.

The Long Meg stone circle is amazing and, on the evidence of three visits, almost guaranteed to be virtually deserted.

Long Meg.

And again.

There’s some more detail and folklore regarding the stone circle in my previous post about a visit, here.

We first learned about this route from a leaflet published by Discover Eden. It was available as a PDF online, but these days you have to buy it. One word of warning – the leaflet gives a longer version of this walk, including a visit to Addingham Church, as 4½ miles, but my phone app gave 6 miles for our truncated version. No wonder our original round took us 6 hours when we had a toddler with us.

Barbondale, Brownthwaite Pike, Casterton Stone Circle

St. Bartholomew’s Church, Barbon.

More glorious May weather and another post-work Lune-Catchment wander. This was on a Thursday evening, the day after my photos from Kirkby Lonsdale in the previous post. You remember that I pointed out how Brownthwaite Pike dominates the view from Kirkby? Equally, Brownthwaite Pike has a great view over the Lune Valley and Morecambe Bay.

Years ago, when I was single, my evenings walks rarely took me any further than I could get, under my own steam, from my front door, but just occasionally I would pack up a meal and head out for a picnic on an easily accessible hill with a good view. Brownthwaite Pike was, I think, the place I visited most often: I could park high, at Bullpot Farm, and it was an easy walk from there.

The lychgate.

This time, I would do it properly, starting from the village of Barbon.

Female Blackbird.

Barbon Beck, another tributary of the Lune.

Bluebells!

The right of way initially follows a track which is heading up to Barbon Manor. It’s metaled and even has barriers. I presume that this is the course used for the Barbon hill-climb, an annual motor-sport event.

Soon though, the route parts company with the race-track and heads into the woods of Barbondale and more bluebells…

Better yet to emerge from the woods into the sunshine…

I initially assumed that this…

…was a Hawthorn, covered in Mayflower, but it wasn’t…

I think it might be an apple-tree. There were a couple more close-by. Maybe there was an orchard here once, when valleys like this one were more populous?

High on the hillside to my left, I spotted an unusual cairn, apparently with a chamber inside it…

It wasn’t to be the last unusual cairn on the walk.

I chatted to a birdwatcher, who asked me if I had seen anything good? He reported Pied-flycatchers and could hear Willow Warblers nearby. I had nothing so interesting to share. But, soon after passing him, spotted a pair of Reed-buntings and then…

…a Red-start. This was only the third time I’ve seen one and my best photo yet, although, obviously, still room for improvement. I waited to tell my new bird-watching friend, but then felt guilty because we couldn’t find it again among the trees.

I also briefly glimpsed a raptor in pursuit of another bird just above the hillside, but soon lost sight of both. This heron…

…sailing purposefully by, was much more obliging.

Barbon Beck and Barbondale.

A warbler. Could be one of those Willow Warblers?

I heard some strange, harsh bird calls, which made me think of grasshoppers, and so thought perhaps they came from Grasshopper Warblers. I saw a few of the birds, low in the vegetation, but this is the only photo I managed. Having looked in my guide, I’m pretty sure that this is not a Grasshopper Warbler, but apart from that, am none the wiser.

This stream, which feeds into Barbon Beck and is therefore another one of the Lune’s vast tree of sources, is not named on the map, but is, in turn, fed by several smaller streams including Hazel Sike, Little Aygill and Great Aygill. The road bridge which crosses it, however, is called Blindbeck Bridge, so I suppose this must be Blindbeck.

Castle Knott and Calf Top.

I was impressed with the situation of Fell House, in a remote position above Barbondale.

I’ve seen lots of butterflies this month, but have struggled to photograph any of them. This one looks like a female Orange-tip, but has confused me because it has no wing-spots.

The top of the beck obviously changed in nature, becoming steeper sided with outcrops of rock, I think because the underlying rock was now limestone.

I watched this bird of prey,…

…presumably a Kestrel, hovering in roughly the same spot for ages as I climbed beside the beck. Later I watched a pair swoop across the hillside and both alight in the same tree, where I assume there was a nest, although I couldn’t see it.

Bullpot farm.

Cuckoo Flower.

Female Wheatear.

The short road walk from Bullpot Farm was enlivened by numerous birds, mainly Wheatears and Meadow Pipits which were flitting around the drystone walls on either side. Also by the expansive views…

Gragareth and Leck Fell House.

And by the calling of two Cuckoos. In fact, the sounds of Cuckoos had accompanied me most of the way up Barbondale too.

The highpoint of Barbon Low Fell is unnamed on the OS map, but I notice online that other walks have used the name Hoggs Hill, which is nearby on the map. In the absence of any better suggestions, I shall do the same.

As I approached Hoggs Hill then, I noticed another raptor, a Kestrel again I think, sat calmly on a wall, watching me.

I scrabbled to get my camera pointing in the right direction and focused, but the bird was away before I managed that…

Hoggs Hill.

Middleton Fells from Hoggs Hill.

Crag Hill and Great Coum.

Forest of Bowland.

Brownthwaite Pike.

Close to the top of Brownthwaite Pike there’s an absolutely huge cairn. It’s so big that you can see it from Kirkby on the far side of the valley below. I can’t find any reference to it on the Historic England map, but there’s plenty of speculation online about the possibility that it might be ancient and perhaps a burial cairn.

You can see why this spot might have been chosen as it commands clear views over the Lune Valley, the Bowland Fells and Warton Crag , where there was a hill-fort.

I descended by this…

….arrow-straight lane.

Looking towards the hills of home.

From the lane I could look down on an ancient site which is recorded on the Historic England map…

Casterton Stone Circle.

Here’s another view of the henge from a little further down the lane. I’ve read that the stones only protrude slightly above the surrounding turf, but it certainly stands out from a distance.

Closer to hand, on the verges of the lane, there was lots of Lady’s Mantle coming into flower…

And also many spears of Bugle…

But what I appreciated particularly was the way the two were frequently growing together, intermingled…

There was also a bit of what I think was Sheep’s Sorrel about. This one…

…growing on a tree trunk.

The leaves certainly had the refreshing, citrusy flavour characteristic of both Common and Sheep’s Sorel, and I munched on a few as I walked.

The track brought me to the minor road which lead, ultimately to Bullpot Farm and I turned to follow it in the opposite direction, downhill.

Crosswort.

I think that this must be the wind farm which I photographed last summer from Burns Beck Moss.

I turned on to Fellfoot Road, another track, and found…

…several small sheepfolds each with a large boulder inside.

They are Andy Goldsworthy sculptures.

There are sixteen of them in all, but I only passed four of them on this walk.

I’m a big fan of Goldsworthy, but don’t know quite what to make of these. I’ve walked past some of them a couple of times before. One day, I suppose I will walk the entire lane and collect the full set.

It was getting rather late now.

So I was hurrying to get back to my car in Barbon and didn’t stop for long to admire Whelprigg…

…a rather grand house built, apparently, in 1834.

Another glorious evening outing.

Long Meg Walk II – Long Meg and her Daughters

The next stop on our itinerary was at Long Meg and Her Daughters a stone circle. It’s a large circle (the second or third largest in the country depending on which website you believe) and so quite hard to squeeze it all into one photograph. (There are aerial photographs and articles here and here.)

It’s an ancient site possibly dating from 1500 BC according to W.G.Collingwood*, whose ‘Lake District History’ (1925) I’m reading at the moment. He makes it clear that this is at best an educated guess. Other sources give even earlier dates. It’s also possible that Long Meg herself predates the stone circle from which she stands aloof.

The circle is of granite boulders – I can’t find even any supposition as the where these were brought from: the local stone is sandstone. Opinion as to the number of stones also seems to vary wildly – the kids counted and got 65, but apparently it’s impossible to count the stones accurately anyway. The stones were witches – turned to stone by a wizard, or for dancing on the Sabbath. If anyone could count the stones and get the same total twice they would break the spell and release the witches, or bring down bad luck on their own heads, or be able to hear Long Meg whispering if they put their ear to her side, or possibly all three.

Long Meg, meanwhile, is of local red sandstone, stands outside the circle and is very tall and thin.

She apparently is decorated with spirals, cup and ring marks and concentric circles although I didn’t find all of those. There’s a bit of chiselled graffiti too.

I shall have to go back some time and have another look – maybe then I’ll catch the daughters dancing or Long Meg whispering.

The circle is not quite on top of a hill, but it does command very extensive views and is well worth a visit. If you’re lucky you will find it very quiet as we did – just a couple of other families were there when we visited. In the middle of the circle are two very substantial willows – presumably quite old themselves, but I was tickled to think that the stones may have seen several generations of willows grow from saplings to gnarly ancients and eventually topple.

Here’s a slideshow with lots more pictures of stones and an admixture of kids tearing around and climbing on things:

*Interesting chap W.G.Collingwood, author, historian and artist, friend of both John Ruskin and Arthur Ransome (Collingwood’s boat was the Swallow).

Sea Wood, Aldingham, Birkrigg Common

In the car we’d been listening to Michael Hordern read ‘Prince Caspian’. I suspect that Michael Hordern could have made almost anything interesting to listen to, but the kids are quite Narnia obsessed at the moment. A has begun to read the books, the kids have all seen the films – in fact they had watched ‘The Voyage of the Dawn Treader’ at the flicks the day before with their mum whilst I was painting – and they are already busy preparing their costumes as characters from ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ for World Book Day. Today their mum had taken over the painting duties (fiddly stuff involving gloss paints and woodwork – beyond my meagre capabilities) and I was making a virtue of necessity and taking the rest of the crew for a staycation exploration day.

At the beginning of ‘Prince Caspian’ Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy unexpectedly find themselves in a wood, by a shore. They soon find a stream across the beach, and then the ruins of Cair Paravel in which they find a well. In the cold and the mist we embarked into a wood, by a shore. The kids soon found a rivulet issuing from a black plastic pipe. Just into the wood we found a mysterious ditch…

…at the end of which there was……a well!

…or something the kids were happy to believe was a well. I soon found that my companions had been renamed Peter, Edmund and Lucy. Lucy found a rough circle of erratic boulders, which she announced were the ruins of Cair Paravel’s keep and the magic was complete.

Whilst their imaginations ran wild, I was noticing that the Ramson leaves are much more advanced than the ones I spotted earlier in the week in Bottoms Wood near home.

 Spent puffballs.

We followed the lower edge of the woods and when we ran out of wood we turned about and came back along the foreshore.

 Sea Wood

Lucy had turned to beachcombing and was filling her pockets with stones and shells…

The boys were enjoying the mud and puddles and scrambling on the low cliffs. They were particularly taken with one twisted oak, the roots of which had been exposed by erosion, leaving a a space into which they climbed – a den which they were very reluctant to leave.

 Crab apples in the shingle.

Sea Wood is a Woodland Trust property, and has been on my ‘to do’ list for quite some time. We would have missed the delights of Aldingham however had we not been alerted to its potential as a lunch spot by Danny at Teddy Tour Teas. So thanks Danny! Our lunch wasn’t as elaborate, or mouth-watering, as Danny’s but we enjoyed it none-the-less.

We couldn’t find all 27 of these, but were fascinated but those we did find.

I think that they might be Large White chrysalides (plural for chrysalis apparently).

Aldingham has a beach of sorts, which was also a big hit. We don’t expect to find sand on the fringes of Morecambe Bay and were very excited to find it here.

 More beachcombing. St. Cuthbert’s in the background.

Parts of the beach were shale. with a fabulous variety of shapes and shades in the stones.

Naturally, beyond the thin strip of sand, the mud and pools of the bay exerted an strong pull on the boys.

They also enjoyed this overspilling trough…

The pipe beyond it seems to be superfluous now.

Superfluous except as a balance beam for S. Both boys were keen to climb on the remnants of this groyne too. Perhaps the explanation for why there is a beach here at all?

We found a few balls like this on the beach…which I think might be fish eggs? That’s what I told my kids anyway, so if anyone can elucidate further…?

On the verge of the lane just back from the beach, butterbur flowers were emerging and by the wall of St. Cuthbert’s (this is one of the spots were St. Cuthbert’s remains are said to have rested apparently)….

….common speedwell?

 Aldingham Hall.

The final part of our triumvirate, another long anticipated visit, was the small stone circle on Birkrigg Common, just above Sea Wood and not too far from the road.

From whence we repaired to Ulverston and ‘soft play’ for them, Earl Grey for me.

We very much enjoyed our day and the strong consensus was that we shall have to return to all 3 locales for further exploration. Perhaps when the sun shines.