Pendle Hill

Thursday 30th August 2012

After spending the morning walking around the Ribble Valley I drove over to the Nick of Pendle for a walk over Pendle Hill. Pendle Hill is in the designated Forest of Bowland ‘Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty’ but is actually a separate hill away from the upland moors that are the heart of the area, nevertheless Pendle Hill manages to be not only one of the highest points in the Forest of Bowland but also one of the most popular. I started at the top of the pass of the Nick of Pendle, on the road between the towns of Clitheroe and Burnley, and immediately dropped downhill taking a roundabout route through the fields to the south of the hill before taking the tourist route up to the top. This plan gave me a rather tedious first couple of hours with few highlights, but with a fabulous end to the walk over the back of the hill. As I’d found over my previous couple of days' walking in Lancashire, the signposting is poor on footpaths (compared with the excellent, highly visible signposts in Leicestershire), so my biggest challenge at first was simply finding the route.

The walk started, after the initial, steep beside the road, along a track through moorland at the foot of Pendle Hill that led me to Churn Clough Reservoir. A footpath beyond the reservoir left me flummoxed and standing in the middle of a field unable to work out where the footpath was, where I was, or where I was supposed to be. Eventually I found my way to Ratten Clough where I was able to continue on my course with the sleeping giant of Pendle Hill to my left. This was a more pleasant walk than that I’d taken on the previous Tuesday when I’d walked for a much further distance below the Bowland moors; this time I had bright sunshine to enjoy and firmer ground underfoot. The highlight and surprise of the walk was at Sabden Fold, which is a wooded ravine where the Sabden Fold Field Archery Club meets. Luckily the archers weren’t firing when I was passing so I was able to enjoy the natural wonders of a steep-sided ravine that felt like a bit of old-world England when the wild-wood reigned throughout the country and where bears, wolves and wild boar still roamed the land.

Not far from there I came down onto a road and followed it through the village of Newchurch-in-Pendle and steeply down into the witch-crazed village of Barley. The victims of the most famous witch trial in Britain came from this area and in recent times the village has made the most of its ghoulish associations. I was not interested in the tourist nonsense so I made my way through the village and onto the popular path that makes its way up to the top of Pendle Hill. Part of my reason for taking this route was because it’s actually the steepest and hardest way up. The highest point on Pendle Hill is at its eastern end, or Big End, as it is known, and the steepest terrain is immediately below that. The only reason I can think that it’s become the tourist route is because it’s the shortest route to the summit. The route starts from the village of Barley and climbs on excellent paths (thanks to its popularity) beside the small Pendle Beck past several houses that must all enjoy stunning views. Eventually I reached Pendle House on the edge of the moorland and the start of the steepest part of the climb where a long series of steps unrelentingly climbs the steep hillside all the way up to the top.

Due to my late start, by the time I got to the top it was 5.30pm and I had the summit all to myself with clear views all around the hill. It was a tremendous sight in the good weather with the whole area laid out before me, but the most enticing sight of all was of the moorland that makes up the bulk of the hill. With much delight I made my way west across the broad heather-covered plateau to a flag-stoned path that provided me with an easy route through the ridiculously boggy moorland. I was really disappointed to find that there wasn’t much heather at the top of the hill and what there was wasn’t in flower; the distinctive purple flowers of heather is one of my reasons for walking in this sort of landscape at this time of the year. Maybe the poor summer was to blame. The path took me down into Ogden Clough where a great path follows the infant valley before striking out across the moorland over Black Hill. The ground underfoot was surprisingly dry and nowhere near as muddy as I’d found in the Ribble Valley earlier in the day, which contributed to making my onward progress an absolute pleasure. It was great to walk over such a good hill in such good weather, which seemed to have gotten better as the day progressed with almost clear skies while I was atop Pendle Hill and the sun beginning to descend as I made my way slowly down the spine of the hill towards the Nick of Pendle. I may have been in Lancashire for only three days but I’d really enjoyed myself in the variable terrain despite some really muddy ground. I must revisit the Forest of Bowland’s high moor again, returning after a prolonged period of drought.

In the footsteps of J R R Tolkien

Thursday 30th August 2012

While looking for walks in the area I found a leaflet on the Forest of Bowland website that describes a walk called The Tolkien Trail. The walk visits countryside that the writer of 'The Lord of the Rings', J R R Tolkien, was supposed to have been very familiar with, around the Catholic seminary at Stonyhurst College. The Warden at Slaidburn Youth Hostel, where I had been staying, even claimed that we were in the area that inspired Middle-Earth, however I can find no confirmation of this in direct sources such as Tolkien’s own writings or Biography. Nevertheless Tolkien did visit the area at the same time as writing The Lord of the Rings so it could be true to say that I was walking in the footsteps of J R R Tolkien. After staying overnight in the picturesque village of Slaidburn I drove via the town of Clitheroe to the village of Hurst Green in the Ribble Valley. With a copy of the Tolkien Trail leaflet in my hand I set off through the village and was immediately struck by the name of a pub: The Eagle and Child. This was the name of a pub in Oxford that was much frequented by Tolkien and friends (nicknamed by them the bird and baby!). The Tolkien associations had begun early.

Crossing saturated fields at the back of the village I followed the directions on the leaflet that led me to Stonyhurst College, a Catholic school in the Jesuit tradition. I passed by Fox Fall Wood on the way, but the wood was within an enclosure and left me outside on waterlogged fields, so I was still not enjoying the walk. At the college I skirted the grounds keeping well away from the impressive buildings that are the centre-piece of the College. Despite not getting a close look I was still astonished at the enormity of the cathedral-like buildings, but ultimately I wasn’t that interested in the college as it was the views ahead of me towards Pendle Hill that more successfully attracted my eye. I crossed a road at Woodfields where, according to my leaflet, Tolkien had stayed while visiting his son who was in the seminary. It was claimed that the view from Tom Bombadil’s house may have been based on that from New Lodge (despite the fact that Tolkien wrote the Bombadil chapters long before he ever came to Stonyhurst). A rough lane took me to Over Hacking Wood where I eventually crossed a stile into the dark depths that at last felt like I was in the pages of The Lord of the Rings.

A steep, slimy path led me steeply down to a simply divine little dell with a tiny stream snaking through a narrow ravine below a dense canopy of trees. I somehow managed to get my camera to take pictures that made the place look a lot brighter and greener than it actually looked to me. Despite the gloomy atmosphere this was gorgeous woodland scenery, made even more delectable by the murk and shadow created by the densely overhanging trees. This felt like how the Old Forest is described in The Lord of the Rings. The stream led me a short distance away to a tall bridge beyond which lay the broad River Hodder (the same river that passes through Stocks Reservoir that I’d walked around the day before). The river had been swollen by the rains of the previous days and was now chocolaty brown and fast moving. Turning right I followed the river out of the wood and round a great sweeping turn to the south. For this holiday I had feared that I would get nothing but wall-to-wall rain, but I have had little to worry about as once again I was enjoying dry weather and at this point I even had some sunshine as I walked along a wide track beside the river.

Eventually I reached a road where after crossing the river I found an old bridge that my leaflet calls Cromwell’s Bridge. This bridge seems to be a partial ruin but still technically spans the river. It is possible to get to the bridge but only a very foolhardy person would attempt to cross the river by the old bridge, especially with the river in spate. My route took me along the road for a short time following the route of the Ribble Way (even though I had still not reached the River Ribble) and after a short climb beside the road brought me to a path that led me across abominably muddy fields to Winckley Hall. A track led me through the busy Winckley Hall Farm back to the River Hodder which soon joined the even wider River Ribble. The River Ribble is one of the great rivers of the Yorkshire Dales, but here it had left its birthplace far behind and entered Lancashire swelling in size until by now it was a vast river and about to be swelled even more by the River Hodder. Both rivers were full and became a vast area of water at their meeting point that threatened to break their banks.

The muddy brown river rushed past the banks as I continued to walk beside the river accompanied by heavily scented flowers that a quick search of the internet has revealed to be the invasive Himalayan Balsam. It certainly seems to be a pervasive plant as it dominated long stretches of the river bank, but provided me with a welcome accompaniment during my long walk beside the River Ribble all the way from Winckley Hall Farm to Lambing Clough Wood. There I had my lunch under the trees before finally leaving the Ribble Way and climbing ridiculously muddy fields all the way up to the village of Hurst Green. This was not a great walk, but the highlight was definitely that dell on Over Hacking Beck, which was simply a delight. The wood was not far from the guest house that Tolkien probably stayed in so he must surely have also delighted in the scenery as I did. The riverside walk was also an enjoyable part of the walk, but as for this being the inspiration for Middle-Earth I think that is unlikely. It is my understanding that the real inspiration for Middle-Earth lies in the countryside where Tolkien grew up in the West Midlands, now obliterated by the urban sprawl of Birmingham. Countryside like that of the Ribble Valley is merely a reminder of the sort of countryside, quickly disappearing, that inspired a classic.

Around Stocks Reservoir

Wednesday 29th August 2012

After my walk of the previous day along the southern valleys of the Forest of Bowland I moved to the nearby village of Slaidburn where I stayed in the wonderful youth hostel in the village. Slaidburn is a quaint old-fashioned village where the 20th Century doesn’t seem to have intruded, let along the 21st Century: a mobile phone signal in Slaidburn is unheard-of. I was spending a couple of nights in Slaidburn so I thought it would be a good idea to do a walk starting from the hostel and, since the upland moors now held little interest for me after the quagmire I’d encountered the day before, an obvious target was Stocks Reservoir and Gisburn Forest. Unfortunately the rains that had kept me away on Monday had now returned so I had a wet start to my walk. Rain at the start of a walk really puts a dampener on your enthusiasm and makes it a real struggle to even start the walk, but the rain didn’t last very long and left a mostly miserable, grey and overcast day. So setting off in the rain I walked across dreary fields past a farmer collecting in his lambs (and losing one of them), until I reached Stocks Reservoir and the nearby Gisburn Forest.

Gisburn Forest (an actual wood) is to the north-west of the reservoir in a major part of its catchment area on the banks of Bottoms Beck. Up till this point the walk had been dreary and uninteresting: I never enjoy walking through fields as I prefer to walk through wilder country that hasn’t been so obviously moulded by man. When I’m walking through farmland I feel as if I’m intruding on someone’s workplace, so I never enjoy it. I had had enough of it at the end of the previous day's walk and now I was starting with it again. Eventually I reached Dalehead Chapel, which was moved from its original site near the village of Stocks-in-Bowland when the reservoir was built and flooded the village. At this point I joined the Stocks Reservoir Circular Walk which I was immediately impressed with as there were excellent paths through the woodland. A delightful walk through mixed deciduous woodland on a path near the road took me to a causeway over the mouth of Bottoms Beck where great views could be seen across the reservoir and the woodland surrounding it.

At a car park I found information about trails in the wood that proved too enticing for me to ignore. Taking a leaflet with me I followed red markers into the wood for an enjoyable walk through Gisburn Forest on a varied trail along wide forest roads and narrow, steep muddy tracks through bright, open, deciduous woodland and under dark, lifeless conifers. I really enjoyed this walk as I dropped down to  Bottoms Beck and climbed over Birch Hill back onto the circular walk. Continuing around the reservoir, I climbed away from Gisburn Forest and up to New House Farm (now a ruin) where I had my lunch while gazing across the valley of the River Hodder. After lunch I descended the steep hill and crossed the River Hodder, which is the main river that feeds the reservoir and continues on the other side of the dam towards Slaidburn. I climbed the hillside opposite past a lovely secluded ravine, Copped Hill Clough, which is so steep it has escaped all signs of human interference leaving a delightful stream sheltered by trees.

The circular walk continued along what the leaflet that I had picked up claimed was the route of an old railway track, probably temporarily built to aid in the construction of the dam. This wide track provided me with an easy walk around the side of Eak Hill with views all the way round the reservoir that only now could I see in its entirety. This track took me almost all the way to the dam, but on the way I heard something rumbling which, at first, I thought was a stream. When I heard it again, more clearly, even though I wasn’t near a stream, I realised it was thunder. As heavy rain began to fall I called to mind the procedure to follow when caught out in the open during a thunder storm. Fortunately the lightning never came close to me so I didn’t have to find a hollow away from trees. Soon the rain stopped again and the clouds that had completely covered the sky all day suddenly started to break so that by the time I reached the dam the sun had come out leaving me with a warm and sunny rest of the afternoon.

It hadn’t been my intention to continue along the circular walk after the dam but since the weather was so good and it was still early I decided to continue along the path beside the reservoir back towards Gisburn Forest. The path took me through a small wood before reaching a delightful wildflower meadow that despite being past its prime still had a wonderful display of wild flowers that spilt over onto the nearby roadside. I had now reached Dalehead Chapel again which left me with that dreary walk through fields back down into Slaidburn, but the bright sunshine had now transformed the walk so that I had a leisurely, relaxing stroll all the way back into the village. This was a mixed walk, but I enjoyed walking through Gisburn Forest and along the old railway track overlooking the reservoir (even when it was raining). The walks through farmland were very depressing, but the gorgeous sunshine at the end of the walk was a surprise bonus that I didn’t feel I or the walk deserved. Overall, though, I think you’ve got to say I enjoyed this walk.

The Forest of Bowland

Tuesday 28th August 2012

This time of the year I like to do some walking in moorland to take advantage of the heather that blooms at this time of the year and makes the moor look at its best. The area of moorland that I had selected this year no one had seemingly ever heard of, but actually the Forest of Bowland is an area of high moor in Lancashire, and not of trees as the name may suggest. In Britain, historically the name forest referred to a Royal hunting ground and has nothing to do with trees. Some existing Royal Forests do have trees (like the Forest of Dean and the New Forest), but others like the Forest of Bowland do not. Until recently access to the high moors was severely restricted to a couple of footpaths that cross the moor, but with the introduction of Right-to-Roam legislation you can now walk wherever you like across the vast moor, assuming anyone would want to. The lack of established footpaths across the moors mean that as soon as you venture off the few good paths you are into a thick, muddy mess of bogs and heather. The tops are broad and flat and soak without releasing any of the rain that falls onto them and this summer has seen an awful lot of rainfall in Britain. It is advisable to wait until after a period of drought before walking in the Forest of Bowland, which has not happened this year.

After a particularly wet Bank Holiday weekend I drove up the M6 and reached the tiny village of Dunsop Bridge first thing in the morning. I had good weather for this walk with glorious sunshine all day, but the ground was still saturated with water. My hours and hours spent studying the OS map of the Forest of Bowland had determined that the best area to walk in was the steep sided valleys to the south of the high moors, and north of Dunsop Bridge. I therefore started the walk by setting off up the Dunsop Valley but was soon disappointed with what I found. The track marked on the map is a tarmacked road that runs all the way up the valley and so ruins the unspoilt feel.  This was not what I had come to see and became a tedious trudge up a conifer-lined valley that has been set aside for water-catchment to serve the industrial towns of Lancashire. Eventually I reached Brennand Farm where I turned off the tarmacked road and up the steep grassy slopes of the valley climbing Ouster Rake on a brilliant path that slowly climbs past the Brennand Stones and steep ground to reach the moorland top at Whin Fell.

Once on the moor I was hit by strong winds, bogs and vast, bleak vistas, but this was only a taste of what was to come. The path soon dropped back down into the valley on the other side with stunning views up towards the Trough of Bowland, a steep sided scar in the hillside that would have been a fabulous route to walk up if there hadn’t been a road at the bottom of it. On reaching the road, I turned away from the Trough and descended past Sykes Farm towards an avenue of trees that leads into the stunning Langden Brook valley. I had a great walk through this valley along a wide stony track with heather-clad slopes of a gorgeous shade of purple under blue skies. This relaxing walk took me to Langden Castle (which appeared to be nothing more than an old barn!) where I had lunch before continuing along the path as the Langden Brook valley fractured into many narrow cloughs while the path I was on turned off the Langden Brook into a clough beside the Fiendsdale Water. I was walking along an excellent path through the narrowing Fiendsdale and climbing up onto the moorland with steep drops down to the tiny stream at the bottom and heather in-bloom at my feet.

Eventually I reached the top of the moor as I followed a good, established footpath across the moors to Fiendsdale Head and then I turned south off the flag-stoned path onto the deep morass to climb Fair Snape Fell. I was now following a very boggy path beside the fence and struggled to find anything solid under my feet as I tried to make my way up to the cairn at the top of the fell. This was such a frustrating climb in such boggy conditions that it put me off continuing to walk along the top of the moors. After visiting the trig point at the edge of Fair Snape Fell I crossed the moor above Wolf Fell and joined a clear track that took me down Saddle Fell and off the moors. My plan had been to walk along the ridge eastwards gradually descending past the trig point at Totridge and slowly head back to Dunsop Bridge. Instead I dropped down to Burnslack where I took a succession of tracks and paths through the farmland below the moors all the way to Mellor Knoll near Totridge. With hindsight it might have been easier to have stayed on the moors. I didn’t enjoy walking through the fields any more than I would have done on top of the moors.

The signposting was sketchy at best (it was pathetic compared with the clear signposts used in Leicestershire) and the ground was at times as muddy as it had been on the moor. On the low hill of Mellor Knoll I found perhaps worse conditions than had been on the moors with the ground churned up by cows, but this was not far from the road beside Langden Brook and a short walk along the road took me back to Dunsop Bridge. This was a very tiring walk especially when battling the deep bogs on the moor and in the fields. Conditions like this put you off walking in the Forest of Bowland, but the highlight of the walk was the Langden Brook valley, which was a pleasure to walk along from start to finish and showed me just what I had been missing all these years by not going to the Forest of Bowland.

The Snowdon Horseshoe, part 2

Saturday 11th August 2012

To conclude the account of my walk over Snowdon in August that I started last week, I had reached the packed summit of Snowdon having tried to get to the top as early as possible to avoid the crowds, but it hadn’t worked, everyone else had had the same thought. Quickly I left the summit and crossed Bwlch Glas to Garnedd Ugain, Snowdon’s twin peak. Despite the early hour I had my lunch behind a crag before starting my crossing of Crib Goch. This was the fourth time I had crossed Crib Goch and the second in this direction, the other two times being in the usual east to west direction. In the direction I went this time the ridge seems to get harder and harder with the trickiest and narrowest part of the ridge (the actual edge of Crib Goch) coming at the end. I think the usual direction is the better direction as the terrifying exposure along the knife-edge of Crib Goch is quickly over which leaves you to enjoy the following succession of exciting scrambles along the ridge.

Crib Goch is an awesome ridge but I find it positively terrifying every time I go over it. I am not great with heights; I probably didn’t look down throughout the entire crossing, just keeping my eyes fixed on the rocks in front of me. Unlike in 2006, I was trying to make the crossing as easy as possible with no diversions to more challenging climbs as it’s difficult enough without making it more difficult. The technically hardest part of the ridge is over the pinnacles of Crib Goch and these have been particularly challenging for me in the past, especially the last time I went across in 2007. This time I followed the route that I took on my first crossing: a steep, exposed descent followed by an even steeper, exposed ascent around the pinnacles. My first time across Crib Goch was the scariest thing I’ve ever done and despite now having been across four times I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed it. It is a terrifying ridge; I don’t believe that there is any other word for it. It is very thrilling, but also nerve-wracking. However, I hadn’t made it easy for myself as I seemed to be only person going in an easterly direction. Crib Goch is so narrow there are no passing places so I had to wait perched precariously on the edge of a sheer drop three thousand feet high while seemingly hundreds of people passed by before I was able to go on. I don’t think I’m going to be in a hurry to return to Crib Goch.

When I finally reached the eastern peak I descended the steep south-eastern ridge that is normally a good scramble, but I found that in descent you don’t need your hands as much as you do in ascent. You can just calmly walk down the rocky ridge while others are carefully scrambling up the ridge. It was fun in a scary sort of way. When I got down to the Pyg Track, instead of turning left towards Pen-y-Pass, I turned right towards Snowdon, but soon left the path dropping down the grassy slopes. There is a path near Snowdon marked on OS maps that I had never been on before, or even seen. It links the Pyg Track with the Miners’ Track and passes to the south of the Horns. I wanted to find this path and did find a faint path that could have been mistaken for a sheep trod so I followed it, but half way along I saw another, clearer path further down the hillside. Thinking this must be the illusive path I dropped down and followed that around the hillside above Llyn Llydaw. With hindsight I think I should have stayed on the higher path as the lower path just went to a disused sheepfold that is marked on maps.

When I reached the sheepfold I had a pedantic idea that in order to complete the horseshoe one must return to the point where you started it, but that is not Pen-y-Pass even though that is usually treated as the start of the Snowdon Horseshoe. Geographically the starting point of the horseshoe is the outlet of Llyn Llydaw Reservoir. I first climbed the ridge from that point, so I must come down at that point. A short walk along a low, grassy ridge, which I’m sure few people walk along despite the thousands who walk beside it, led me down to the Miners’ Track and the shore of Llyn Llydaw. This was a slightly boggy but fun diversion to end a thrilling day on Snowdon and finally a stroll along the Miners’ Track and the new path led me back to the Pen-y-Gwryd Hotel. This was a thrilling and at times terrifying walk. It was so great to get my hands on rock again and do a truly great mountain walk up a truly great mountain. I must have been walking on rock for the majority of the walk. I love walking in rugged terrain and Snowdon has that in abundance, it’s just a shame that mountains like Snowdon are so rare. That’s why everyone loves Snowdon.