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.
A week away on Torridian sandstone, had reminded me that sandstone’s a speciality in Cumbria’s Eden valley.
Decided to go and look for some of its ‘secrets’.
Do you remember this stained glass face?
From my midsummer story about Shalom & Emmet.
We’ll come back to it...
Everything’s built of red around here.
From Long Meg to the bridges, monuments, walls and more.
Meg’s the tallest of 69. Her daughters are rhyolithic.
Went looking for caves.
I thought I wouldn’t need a map. (I always need a map...)
A lunatic Lieutenant-Colonel Lacy had tried to blow Meg up in the C18th ‘to plough the field’.
A sudden storm is said to have scared his servants off.
I bloody hope so too.
They went and did something else instead...
I’d gone way off track to find them.
A very, very steep, deep, wet woodland gorge.
(Found the path afterwards of course).
But some steps, being slowly reclaimed, then led me astray.
No idea at all as to what the sign had once said 🤔
Discovered it had been an old gypsum mine for a century, that closed, just before I started school.
I liked everything I’d found here.
Just enough time to follow the river north. Find the face from the window.
Carved in cliffs, you’ve to paddle, canoe or swim to reach them depending on rain. Test of faith. I chose to swing round an overhanging tree like a fat Indiana Jones.
As I did, this appeared at eye level
Do you remember my story of the Jew Stone?
William Mounsey, the multi-lingual wanderer “who wore his beard long” had been at work/play again.
I’m not into strife, so just sat and read whilst listening to fish leap and feed. This from Walton’s ‘Compleat Angler’ & Irreplaceable.
Best of all, Mike was sat nearby and I got to share it all with him. He’s one of our greatest living conservationists. He looks after wildlife on Mounsey’s land. I’d not seen him since February.
And conkers (one of #thelostwords !) started to appear.
Have the best days you can.
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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...
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.
Another week, another 'outlying fell' or two. One in centre of the Lake District, one in the middle of 'nowhere'.
Both in Alfred's brilliant book.
I've nothing to sell but @wainsoc has, if you fancy a wander.(Get Chris Jesty's edition).
'29 years ago'... Bank holiday THREAD
My first-ever Lakes trip, we prepared our outfits during the Oxenhope Straw Race. We (paid!) to camp in a rutted field, with a communal cold tap in Hawkshead.
I had Jeremy Ashcroft's book so we went up Claife.
It was deeply wet. Posed? for tourists by the ferry after.
To 2020..
I've never been back there and with all the 'outrage' of late had kept away. But it's in AW's book.
The morning ferry was quiet. I saw no-one for the first two hours' walking. The only families up there were swallows.
The path seemed to struggle, at first. Only leaf litter.