This thread started 13 months ago, when a 17th century feminist I’d never heard of, got in touch via Twitter.
I finally got to explore further, yesterday.
@naturalistdara had sent me a sincere, helpful message whilst I was on my 2019 fundraising Coast to Coast walk.
Then this:
I’d heard of this valley but never been, only passed by.
Lady Anne’s story is a phenomenal, pioneering tale of fighting discrimination and of outliving those who would do you wrong.
Somewhere between two counties, I saw a tall woman coiling metres of black cable. A volunteer.
I recognised her work. She was volunteering for #B4RN to lay the world’s fastest fibre optic cable in the remotest parts of the north. Because BT can’t be bothered to.
She discreetly checked my boots & asked me if I’d be walking Lady Anne’s Way. Said she was in her eighth decade.
Their cables would be following that high ridge route.
The octogenarian women don’t mess about round here. (Lady Anne lived to be 86. In 1676).
I was walking up Hell Gill. Much nicer than you’d expect.
Curlew calling, circling.
That’s a hogg-hole in the wall. To let yearling sheep move from one ‘heaf’ to another. A heaf is where they feel safe, at home. (Doesn’t always work. They still get lost).
Don’t know what fearsome beast might’ve lived in the cave behind it...
The signs were odd.
River erosion worsening in this time of climate emergency and flooding rains.
Most buildings, including some grand ones, were now ruined, resembling the fells.
500 people lived around here 150 years ago.
350 a century ago. Now that’s halved again.
“I like the un-path best” (Nan Shepherd - The Living Mountain).
Something had dropped its lunch. A turn of the shrew took me through a field overflowing with thistles. Heading towards a tree and chapel of ease.
Oystercatcher & Curlew warned me of the wet.
Young kestrels waited.
It was unexpectedly open. With shelter and seating provided by the EU. And Victorian tiles from the oldest surviving tile factory in the world @CDJackfield
So I sat (carefully) and had my banana sandwich. I’d used jam as the butter had been left in the fridge.
Pretty good.
I thought about walking up to the curlew congregation. But looking at this particular summit height on the map whilst sat in a chapel, thought ‘maybe not’.
I’d pushed my luck, eating sandwiches in there.
I saw a grave of someone who’d lived across the valley, by the tree. Thought I’d call by and see. What a lonely, truly wild place.
High Shaw Paddock.
Wuthering Heights but with worse weather.
Buzzards keening overhead. A wind-hover swooped.
When I came back down, I followed the orchids.
The tall woman was gone. The last houses were connected to the world web. She was the only person I saw all day.
I’m going back next week to look for Lady Anne.
She did a great deal for others, once she’d won her lifelong battle.
She did a great deal for others, during her battles too.
Treated myself to a bookshop visit on the way home.
Read the best preface ever.
Have the best weekend you can. Maybe you could go and look for some mysteries?
But if you’re staying in - why not listen to this great outdoors podcast to hear more about Lady Anne and her 38 year struggle for what was hers, when it was stolen by devious men.
Recently, a well-meaning national park worker posted a photo of The Howgills. Got ten times the usual "likes" but also caused a PILE-ON due to the overgrazed, bare land it showed. No point repeating it.
Instead, I bought a book and went for a look.
a THREAD: LOVELY / DESOLATE ?
Alfred Wainwright understated most things in his guides. How hard these walks can be. How beautiful they can be. But he leaves plenty of clues.
Like his amazement at seeing a single tree here.
As he wrote "even God has been driven out"
Alfred found loveliness & desolation here.
Just after his visit, a film was made: "The Dale That Died". You can watch it for free here thanks to @BFIPlayer
(Watch the first 3 & last 3 mins if you're in a terrible rush).
Visit @farfieldmill near Sedbergh this week or soon!
There’s a brilliant contrast of beautiful and ‘terrible’ things to see.
But most of all, there’s this: “Through The Locking Glass” - a collection of work created during lockdown by dozens of Cumbria’s creatives.
SHORT THREAD
Here’s the ‘terrible’ in both senses...
William ‘a young boy untroubled by any schooling’ worked at the mill. He ran away and was found by sniffer dogs. He was soon accidentally skinned by a waterwheel. Later, he survived the flu at 17 and finally retired. After 86 years of service.
Fancy coming for a walk round ours? Tried something new...I took a photo (in any direction) every 100 metres.
You don’t need to go that far, or reach summits to escape.
Dog-friendly stile.
Two pairs of snipe? seemed as surprised as me.
Landmark trees.
Tractor ballet.
I’ve finally mown mine. First time since Spring. Three small bales.
Himalayan Balsam. Bees might like it but no one else does.
I can see the woods from here!
The ‘Huttonwood’ Walk of Fame. They’ll be glad of that when they look back...
I’m back. (I know. You didn’t know I’d gone. It’s OK).
Had an unplanned adventure yesterday. It went meanderingly well. Looked for fungi first, for BBC radio.
Overheard one of this trio reading aloud. They told of the local ‘Grumbletrog’. I knew exactly what they meant.
THREAD
I once read a story aloud outdoors about the Raven of Eycott Hill. Bit intimidating as the writer and her family turned up.
And she is very tall and beautiful. I am neither.
She writes & draws story maps for nature reserves.
They enjoyed their Grumbletrog tale trail.
Then this
It felt like the government asking for donations to run their nature reserves? Well, I’d heard schools had been doing the same for ages. Natural England is ‘independent of government’ and skint?
I’d missed a nearby village’s exhibition but this cheered me up after that thought.
First walk for weeks with John.
Neither of us had been before.
And I thought he’d been everywhere.
We sploshed east of Shap summit (Wainwright somehow missed this one) to Bretherdale.
A lovely little valley. Turned out to be filled with abandoned farms. Not sure why.
A THREAD
The farms must have been tiny. And working incredibly hard, arguably against the nature of this wild place.
Bit of a change from Missing Cat.
Think we might have found it, anyway.
And a wall gap that might explain why you missed your turn off.
‘Here be dragons’...
More former farms. Much more recently abandoned?
Still got glass windows. Taps.
And look carefully, I think that’s a satellite dish..?
After Windermere's sunshine and swallows over Claife Heights, I was feeling short of what Alfred Wainwright called "featureless desolation, and solitude, and silence"...
Welcome to Wasdale, near Shap.
Low cloud 'CLAG' was a bonus. AW had promised:
Terry Abraham was over in the other Wasdale that day filming handsome folk & fells. (Bet he'd have rather been over here with the wild Angelica).
Then the clouds lifted. I'd not noticed that the Shap Summit Memorial had it's own memorial before...
Gordon's widow & friends came up to Shap in 2013, on this, his 1955 bus. To remember Gordon and everyone up there. It's a hard place.
I followed the Roman road, away from the traffic.
It soon gets quiet.
Never really gets dry.