Gyrn and Moel Wnion from Abergwngregn

Posted on March 25, 2026 by ms6282

The end of a busy week; last Saturday I set off early and set off for North Wales for a walk I’d planned in the northern Carneddau from Abergwngregyn. This range of quiet hills and mountains in northern Eryri (Snowdonia) has become a favourite the last few years. The routes published in guidebooks are fairly limited but the OS map suggested that there were other ways to get amongst them. I recently came across Hilary Pullen’s website (Nearly Uphill) and associated Youtube channel that has a number of routes up from the northern side of the range. One of them went up two lesser peaks to the south west of Abergwyngregyn and that’s what I was going to (more or less) follow. I was tempted by another slightly more challenging route going higher up from the same starting point, but I’m not that “fell fit” at the moment.

It was a sunny day, but longer range visibility was poor, which was disappointing, but I still thoroughly enjoyed the walk.

I parked up in the free car park on the edge of the village, booted up and set off. Abergwngregyn is something of a “honeypot” destination due to its proximity to the Aber Falls (Rhaeadr Fawr and Rhaeadr Bach). The village itself isn’t very “chocolate box” and most visitors just pass through on their way to the falls. Most people park in the car parks at the other side of the village, closer to the falls, but the free car park was about half full when I arrived.

I set off through the village until I reached the sign post for the North Wales Coast path. I wondered whether I’d see any of the semi-wild ponies that live up on the Carneddau mountain sides during my walk.

A steep climb up the hillside then ensued.

At the top of the climb there are outstanding views of the mountains and over the sea. The haze restricted what I could see but I could still just about make out Anglesey over the Menai Straits.

Initially I was following the high level route to the falls on the west side of the valley bu just after the power lines I turned right up a path that headed up the hill

until it reached a ladder stile, the other side of which was Buarth Newydd, one of multi-cellular sheep folds that are characteristic of the Carneddau uplands.

I was on a broad path now, probably reflecting its use by the sheep farmers, which contoured along the side of the hill above the valley.

There was a good view towards the mountains and I could just about make out the waterfalls through the haze.

Then I spotted a small group of three ponies, including a foal, up on the hillside a little way above the path.

The path descended and then climbed back up the valley. However, it was no longer broad and easy to see and I lost it for a while, making my own way through the rough ground, climbing gradually up hill until I reached a clear path higher up on a broad boggy plateau from where I could clearly see my first objective, the modest hill of Gyrn. There was a large sheepfold at the foot of the hill.

Reaching the hill I met another walker (a rare beast up here) who was taking a break sitting on a rock. I stopped to chat. He was a local and he kindly told me how to correctly pronounce the names of some of the landmarks. I then carried on, climbing up the hill, which was covered with scattered rocks, so I had to tread carefully.

There was shelter on the top of the hill, but on a fine day I didn’t need to use it while I took a break and ate my dinner.

The summit of this modest hill, standing alone on the plateau is an outstanding viewpoint. Despite the haze I could make out most of the high peaks of the Carneddauand the Glyyderau, and I was pretty sure I could see Snowdon too.

Looking north and west, there were no high peaks so I could see right down to the coast and Anglesey (Ynys Mon).

My next objective, Moel Wnion, which, at 1903 ft is just short of qualifying for the title of a mountain, was directly north, and I could see a herd of ponies scattered across the hill side.

Descending, I had a good view of the sheepfold, Buarthau’r Gyrn.

These sheepfolds up in the Carneddau are used when a number of farmers gather them for shearing or other purposes, usually three times a year. Each farmer has their own cell in the fold but they work together to bring sheep into a large gathering pen and then into a dividing pens for sorting. After identifying their own sheep through markings or clustnodau, a specific pattern of cuts on their ear, they move them into their own cell. There’s further details here if you’re interested.

After crossing the boggy ground between the two hills (it wasn’t too bad underfoot after a week of dry, sunny weather) I climbed steadily to the the summit of Moel Wnion.

There was a shelter on the summit, inside of which there was a damaged trig column. The top of it lying on the floor just outside the shelter.

More good views, including over to Bera Fawr and Bera Mawr to the east.

I didn’t dally too long up here but started to make my way down the hill

passing close to another small herd of ponies.

The views ahead, now, were dominated by the sea, rather than the mountains.

When researching this route on Hilary Pullen’s website, her report noted that a gate which a path shown on the OS map passed through, was locked. (The path wasn’t marked as a right of way so the farmer probably had the right to do this, even though that seemed rather mean of him). I’d plotted a route using the OS maps app that avoided it and reaching the power lines I turned left heading downhill (passing more ponies!) towards a different gate.

Guess what – this was also locked. So I dithered around a little looking for another option wondering whether I’d misread the map and had missed the right gate. Not seeing anything obvious, after a while I consulted the map (should have done that straight away, really) and saw that there was a right of way further down the hill, so I made my way to that and was able to go through an unlocked gate, follow the path through a field and then join the North Wales Path heading back towards Aber.

Rather than descend into Aber the way I’d come up, I follwed a track that descended more gradually off the hill

and then through fields and past the church on the edge of the village and then back to my car ready for the drive home.

Return to the YSP

Posted on March 24, 2026 by ms6282

Last August we visited the Yorkshire Sculpture Park to see, amongst other things, the William Kentridge exhibition, The Pull of Gravity, inside, and outside, the Underground Gallery. It’s a fantastic display of his work, including sculpture, drawings, prints and animated works. As usual with the YSP exhibitions, one viewing is not enough, so last Wednesday we braved the joys of a journey on the M61, M60 and M62 to cross the Pennines for another visit. There was also a new exhibition in the Weston gallery that we wanted to see.

We usually leave the M62 at the Brighouse and Mirfield junction, cutting across country the rest of the way. It gets us of the Motorway and is usually a quieter and less unpleasant run. This time we were delayed by roadworks due to hedge cutting then found ourselves behind a coach which was clearly driven by someone unfamiliar with the route along narrow, twisty roads. They were braking unpredictably very frequently and driving a little slow. I noticed a Liverpool telephone number on the back and guessed it was taking students to the YSP. I was right! We were behind the coach all the way to the site. On arrival a coach load of what looked like six-formers disembarked. There seemed to be a few other coach loads of students visiting too, so the Underground Gallery was very busy until they all re-boarded their coaches early afternoon.

As nothing had changed with the Kentridge exhibition, I’ll not repeat my report from our previous visit. However, one difference was the weather. Last August it was a grey Yorkshire day, but this time we were treated to warm sunshine and blue skies, so I took some snaps of the works on display outdoors. In front of the gallery, six large scale abstract works – Paper Procession (2024) are large scale painted aluminium reproductions of small torn paper sculptures, which are also displayed in Gallery 1 indoors. The bright colours came out much better in the sunshine (although some of the photos are affected by shadows).

At the top of the lawn, there were four large scale “glyphs”.

In the Weston gallery, Rise, which had only opened on the Sunday immediately before our visit, is the first solo museum exhibition by LR Vandy, with many works made on site at YSP using 30 Km of rope and yarn. The works are principally made of rope, together with “found objects”, mainly maritime or textile related. She was inspired to start working with rope after moving her studio to Chatham’s Historic Dockyard, the last navy dockyard in the country to making rope as in Victorian times.

On the exhibition website, the artist tells us that her practice

centres the hidden human costs of colonialism, transportation systems and commodities, and the knotted histories of trade and power they contain. The title, Rise, references ideas of resilience, protest, liberation and collective joy explored through rituals and dance.

Standing outside the Weston, Dancing in Time: The Ties That Bind Us was commissioned by National Museums Liverpool for the International Slavery Museum’s Martin Luther King Pop Up series. It was originally displayed on the Liverpool Waterfront, near the Albert Dock

The centrepiece indoors is a large scale work A Call to Dance, inspired by the maypole and is meant to reflect the joy of dancing and the maypole’s role as a symbol of resistance.

Here’s a few more photographs of the works displayed in the gallery.

It’s just about impossible to see everything properly at the YSP in just one day and we always wish it was open longer, particularly on the longer days between March and September (we could then leave after the traffic has died down on the motorways!). It’s always enjoyable exploring the grounds and looking around the works on a pleasant day when most of the visitors have left.

After walking across to the Weston and back, we had another look around the (now much quieter) Underground Gallery, including watching the two animated films. After that we re-energised ourselves with a coffee and had a walk around part of the grounds, revisiting old favourites by Barbara Hepworth and Elisabeth Frink, as well as the Kentridge sculptures. Hepworth’s family of Man and Squares with Two Circles looked particularly good illuminated by the low sun in the early Spring sunshine.

Hardcastle Crags and Crimsworth Dean

Posted on March 22, 2026 by ms6282

Last Tuesday I was on the train again, this time to Hebden Bridge. I planned a walk from the station up through Hardcastle Crags, across the moors and down to Crimsworth Dean.

Looking back at my blog I realised that it was a couple of months short of 10 years since I last visited the National Trust owned deep wooded valley.

Leaving the town centre I found myself climbing up a very steep residential street up on the west side of the valley before turning off on a path through the woods, climbing and then descending gradually down towards the start of Hardcastle Crags.

Looking down on Hebden Bridge from the hillside.

On the way along the woodland paths I passed a number of houses. An ideal location with views across the valley, I think that, in the past, their residents would have had a hard life stuck up here without the services (piped water, electricity, gas, sewage) that we take for granted these days. They’re not so far from the town, but it’s not the easiest of walks to get there and back..

I carried on through the woods down to the river, passing the Blue Pig and crossing over the old bridge and over to the carpark and start of Hardcastle Crags.

There’s a network of paths criss-crossing the woodlands and I weedled along making my way down to a path on the north side of the river.

At several points the river can be crossed using stepping stones although the two sets I passed both had stones out of position, which would make using them a little hazardous.

Eventually I arrived at Gibson Mill, about half a mile along the valley, which was built around 1800. The National Trust website tells us

Gibson Mill was first built in 1803 to harness the power of Hebden Water to spin cotton. Later in the 19th century, the tranquil setting of the surrounding Hardcastle Crags valley saw the mill reinvented as a popular entertainment destination that attracted locals and day-trippers to spend time away from hard-working lives. This role continues today under the care of the National Trust.

The main structure was built between 1800 and 1803 for local farmer and textile manufacturer Abraham Gibson (1745-1834). Officially named Lord Holme Mill (for reasons that remain unclear), the site was next to the river on flat land below Gibson’s house at Greenwood Lee. The river provided power to drive the new cotton spinning machinery he installed in 1805. The finished yarn was probably supplied mainly to local weavers making fustian (a type of heavy-duty cotton cloth used for clothing), a Hebden Bridge speciality.

By now I was brasting for a brew, but to my great disappointment the cafe at the Mill was closed. I subsequently discovered that it’s only open from April to Noember. Oh well, a drink of water had to do.

I carried on along the track and then turned off the path that climber up to the top of the millstone grit outcrops that give the Crags their name.

I had to take care walking along the narrow, uneven track along the crags

from where there were good views across the wooded valley to the surrounding moorland.

I couldn’t see a way down from the end of the crags where I wouldn’t risk breaking my neck, so I retraced my steps and went back down the way I’d come up.

I could have taken a path through the woods down to the river and returned to the mill on the opposite bank. However, I’d planned to return to Hebden Bridge via Crimsworth Dean so carried on along the track, climbing up to a minor road from where there were views across to the lonely moorland, beloved of the Brontës and currently threatened by the development of what could potentially be the largest windfarm in England. I’ve summarised the issues in a previous blog post.

I carried on along the road for about half a mile before turning up a path that would take me across the moor to Crimsworth Dean, another deep valley leading down towards Hebden Bridge.

There were now a number of options I could take. When I went down the Dean as part of a walk last year, I took the lower path on the west side of the valley. This time I decided to take the higher track.

The view across the valley at the start of my descent.

I ended up by the Hardcastle Crags car park.

The poet, Ted Hughes, who was born and grew up in Mytholmroyd, and, with his brother, came camping in the Dean. A series of walks, Discovering Ted Hughes’s Yorkshire, with downloadable maps by Christopher Godhard, have been devised including one around Crimsworth Dean which provides another good option for a walk from Hebden Bridge.

I crossed the river and took the riverside path route along the north bank (you have to walk on the road for a little while for part of this route) avoiding another steep climb and descent.

Reaching the town I had time to buy a couple of cold drinks from the Co-op, browse in the independent bookshop and enjoy the late afternoon sunshine, before catching the 5:10 train back to Wigan.

A walk from Stalybridge with the Lancashire Rail Ramblers

Posted on March 15, 2026 by ms6282

Yesterday (Saturday) I was out for my second walk with the Lancashire Railway Ramblers. This time the walks were between Stalybridge and Greenfield so I was able to catch the direct train to the former from Wigan Wallgate. there were several other members of the Wigan Ramblers taking the train too so I was able to relax and enjoy chatting with them both before and after the walk. The forecast was good and although the air temperature wasn’t so high it was warm whenever the sun emerged from behind the clouds.

I chose to take the shorter and less demanding of the two walks on offer. We started at Stalybridge and made our way to Greenfield where we caught the train back to Stalybridge. The longer walk started at Greenfield and the route was largely over ground that I’d already traversed. I also fancied a more relaxed walking pace and an opportunity to chat with the Wigan crew and, hopefully, get to know some new people.

Here’s a group shot taken at the station before we set off.

651181162_26365659103057431_6543962974037957249_n — Photo from the Lancashire Rail Ramblers Facebook page

The start of the walk took us through a very pleasant park just a short distance from the train station, landscaped in a way that felt like being out in the countryside.

We then passed the large boating lakes.

We were soon out on paths through the fields and most of the route was then on paths and country lanes through a broad thread of countryside between fairly populous settlements.. Not surprisingly, there was quite a lot of mud about but we managed to traverse it without too much trouble, although the slippery surface meant we had to be careful when going up and down hill.

The path went through somebody’s garden here! After the wells in Silverdale last week here’s another one, although clearly ornamental rather than a real one.

Our route skirted the very edge of Ashton-Under-Lyne, passed through Knott Hill nature Reserve and then climbed up Hartshead Pike, where we stopped for our lunch break. The tower provide some shelter from the cold wind for a few of us who managed to take advantage of it.

There were views in every direction; over the plain to Manchester and Oldham and, in the other direction, across to the moors in the east. I have had enough of looking at the sprouting towers of Manc-hatten over the last few years, and concentrated my gaze on the moorland.

Reinvigorated we resumed the walk, starting by descending the Pike and then following a ridge of land above Mossley, where we passed a cross erected in 1994 by a group of churches from the small town.

We descended from the higher ground and after a short stretch of road walking climbed another hill. On the way up we were hit by a hail shower which swept in from the north. Fortunately the hailstones were small and the shower didn’t last long.

We then had to descend again, taking us into the small settlement of former home textile workers houses

where we crossed the border into Saddleworth. The boundary stone marked the former boundary between Lancashire and the West Riding of Yorkshire. The area is now all in Greater Manchester, although many Saddlewrth residents don’t recognise that. I can sympathise. I’m adamant that Wigan is in Lancashire (although I’m happy to take advantage of some benefits of Greater Manchester, such as the rail and tram add on to my bus pass 😂).

We took a track down to the canal and then followed the tow path to Greenfield and then made our way to the station. We arrived in plenty of time for the next train which would take us to Stalybridge for our connection to Wigan

I’d enjoyed the walk of about 8.5 miles (I’d forgotten to start my tracker before we left the station so the stats below are a slight representation of the route) and had got to know several people from the group who I hadn’t met before. The Rail Ramblers have a quite full programme of walks planned across the North West and West Yorkshire. I’ll hopefully get out with them again soon.

Southwell Workhouse

Posted on March 13, 2026 by ms6282

We left home early for the start of our break in Lincoln as we wanted to avoid the traffic on the M62. This meant that if we went straight to the city we’d have a few hours before we could access our accommodation. We could have parked up and started to explore, but we’d have plenty of time to do that so we thought it would be a good idea to stop off somewhere on the way. Several options were identified, but we decided on the National Trust’s Workhouse and Infirmary at Southwell in Nottinghamshire, about 26 miles from our final destination.

The Poor Relief Act 1601 made parishes legally responsible for the care of the people within their boundaries who were unable to work. Workhouses to house the poor had been around since the 14th Century, but until Poor Law Amendment Act of 1834 this was usually done by providing food or money, a system known as outdoor relief which was funded by local taxes. The introduction of labour saving inventions in the agriculture and the return of injured soldiers from the Napoleonic Wars meant that there was a massive increase in people either unable to work due to age or poor health, or unable to find work, leading to a massive increase in the cost of providing what was, in reality, very meagre relief.

In Southwell, Reverend John Thomas Becher, a clergyman and a magistrate, proposed that local parishes should combine funds and build a workhouse to house the destitute rather than each parish supporting individuals with food, fuel and clothing. No relief would be granted to able-bodied people unless they agreed to enter a workhouse. 

The Southwell Workhouse was constructed in 1824, implementing his proposal for this part of Nottingham. This ten years before the Poor Law Amendment Act (1834) and so Southwell was one of the first of the “new model” workhouses. The building was deliberately designed to resemble a prison and it pioneered the harsh regime that was adopted by other workhouses throughout the country. The National Trust Website tells us that

Adults were divided into categories: those unable to work (called ‘blameless’) and those capable of work but unemployed (considered ‘idle and profligate able bodied’).

They were further subdivided into men and women and children were kept separate. Each group lived in different areas, meaning families couldn’t meet.  

Inmates were fed, clothed, housed and some were made to work. Children received a form of education.  

The work was hard and tedious, typically involving breaking stones and recycling of oakum.

It was a miserable life for the inmates, as bad as being in prison. They could, in theory, leave; although that wasn’t realistic for those who ended up inside the institution. People dreaded the prospect.

Researching my family history, I discovered that some of my ancestors had been sucked into the system, either because they were old and infirm and couldn’t work, or had been orphaned. I expect that would be true for most of us from a working class background.

Entering the complex, in one of the outbuildings, there was a scale model of the workhouse, There were three floors. The ground floor with workrooms, a kitchen, school room and some offices for the staff. Sleeping accommodation in dormitories was on the top two floors with men separated from women, adults from children and the old and infirm from the “idle and profligate”.

There were small yards at the back and front of the buildings.

These figures demonstrate that it was actually cheaper to support the poor by “outdoor relief” then by interring them in the workhouse. But the latter had “benefits” as a deterent an, probably, keeping the poor out of sight and out of mind.

Besides breaking rocks, another task given to the inmates was “picking oakham“, both also used in prisons.

There was a schoolroom on the ground floor. The children would have only been taught the basics, and probably not by a qualified teacher.

The building remained in use until the early 1990s, when it was divided up into bedsits to provide temporary accommodation for mothers and children. One of the rooms on the top floor had been set up to show how the bedsits would have looked during the 1970’s.

There were two patchwork quilts – The Women’s Quilt and The Leighann Wightman Quilt and two cushions on display in the building, commemorating the lives of women who died because of domestic violence. Each of the patches represent a woman killed due to domestic violence.

The Infirmary was built in 1871 and used to care for sick inmates. Some patients who were sick but not not legally ‘destitute’ were later admitted. Old and infirm inmates who had nowhere else to go would stay here until they died. When the days of the Workhouses ended in the 1930’s it seems to have continued mainly as a geriatric hospital. I suspect that this was common. This was certainly true of the former Chorley Workhouse which was close to where I lived when I was a teenager.

The visit really brought home the horrors of a system designed to demean and punish poor and desperate people in 19th and early 20th centuries, based on an ideology that categorised most of the poor and unemployed as “idle and profligate”;. The system was founded on prejudice, meanness and hypocrisy. Sadly, even today some people display those attitudes.

A walk around Silverdale with the Ramblers

Posted on March 12, 2026 by ms6282

The first Saturday of the month meant that there was a Wigan Ramblers “coach walk”. This time our destination was Silverdale. I’ve been going up to this quiet area on the borderlands of Lancashire and Cumbria for many years, but other than walking along the coast from Silverdale, I’ve mainly defaulted to routes centred on Arnside, so the walk last Saturday took me to some places I’d been meaning to walk for some time. That’s one of the advantages of letting someone else work out a route.

The M6 was closed near Preston, so our driver had to divert via the M61, which meant we were a little later than planned arriving in the village, but we still had time at the end for a visit to the pub.

We set off heading south along a quiet lane, passing passing Lindeth Tower which, was used by the author, Elizabeth Gaskell who wrote one of her novels, Ruth.

A little further on we could see Walduck’s Wall, jutting out into the Bay. It’s the remains of an aborted attempt to reclaim an area of land from the Bay in the late 1870’s.

After passing Jenny Brown’s Cottages,

we joined the coastal path a little further along, at Jenny Brown’s Point.

We made our way towards the tower, which rather resembles a lighthouse. It’s not, of course but was part of a copper smelting furnace dating back to the 1790s.

A short distance after the lighthouse we left the coastal path, climbing steeply up hill and then made our way through pleasant woodland to Wood Well, where we stopped for our dinner. This is one of the “Wells of Silverdale”. This is limestone country and with the rock which means water doesn’t stay on the surface but makes its way underground. The limestone, however, is underlain by non-porous rock and can re-emerge in springs or be “tapped” with a pump. The locals in the past created storage tanks for water that they could then use for their animals and for domestic use until water was piped in from Thirlmere in 1938.

This was the first well that we encountered during the walk. Although our route wasn’t specifically based around them, we passed several others. My “bloggy friend”, Bowland Climber, has done a walk around the wells with some friends in 2023, and Arnside and Silverdale Landscape Trust also organise guided walks around the wells. It would be interesting to sign up for one of them.

Here, the water emerges from the crack at the bottom of the rock face and is collected in the large tank. I wasn’t tempted to take a drink!

Re-energised after a break and a bite to eat, we carried on through woodland, fields and a stretch of a quiet minor road

Passing another storage tank (Burton Well).

and an old hand pump at Dogslack well.

We weedled around until we reached the car park at the bottom of King Williams Hill, when we made our way upwards towards the Pepperpot.

I’ve seen this tower many times in posts by Mark of Beating the Bounds and Andy of Surfnslide. I’ve been meaning to go and have a look at it for ages but have never got round to it, so I was pleased to have finally made it.

The tower commemorates Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee and was constructed by local builder Mr Bowskill in 1887. It’s “proper” name if the Queen Victoria Jubilee Monument, but everyone calls it the Pepperpot due to its shape.

There were good views over the Bay.

We descended the way we went up and then at the bottom of the hill made our way to The Cove where we stopped to take in the view. It was sunny when we set off on our walk but the cloud had drifted in during the day. However the light over the sea (the tide had come in during our walk) was amazing, turning the sea a milky colour. My photos really don’t do it justice.

From the Cove we made our way through a field on towards the Silverdale Hotel for refreshments before the journey home.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/85478582@N00/55142483522/in/album-72177720332410927

A walk to the Bridestones

Posted on March 10, 2026 by ms6282

Last Tuesday I took the train to Todmorden for a walk up to Bride stones. It was a fine day which seemed to signal the start of Spring; perfect weather for a walk on the moors.

Looking across the town towards Stoodley Pike. I was up there a few weeks ago.

Leaving the train station I climbed steeply up the hill on a quiet road on the south side of the river, before turning down a path above Centre Vale Park, called Lovers Lane.

The path climbed along the flanks of the hill before descending gradually back down to another narrow road leading to the main road along the valley. I walked along the road before turning up a lane that climbed steeply up the hill towards the moors.

There are several groups of millstone outcrops and boulders up on the moor. This was my view towards the Orchan rocks when I stopped part way up my climb for a bite to eat (and a rest – I’m definitely not “fell fit” at the moment).

Stannally Farm – one of the numerous farms scattered across the moor. Many of them, like this one, have been renovated and modernised. at one time they were occupied by farmers who participated in the “dual economy” of raising animals and producing products for the textile industry

Looking back I had a good view of the moors on the south side of the valley.

Eventually the Bridestones came into view; a collection of Millstone Grit rock formations, which stretches for about half a mile along the ridge. The rocks have been eroded by the windblown sand and grit and driving rain, creating weird and wonderful shapes.

It’s a popular spot up here – it’s possible to park up on Eastwood Road that runs high up on the moor just a short distance to the north of the rocks, and there were a few other visitors providing some sense of scale for my photos!

The formations are, not surprisingly, similar to those on Blackstone Edge, which is only a few miles away.

The Bottleneck Bride, after which the Bride Stones are named, is a large boulder precariously perched on a narrow neck of rock. At one time “her” groom stood close by, but today “he” lies on the ground next to her having fallen over some time in the past. One day she will no doubt join him due to the continued erosion.

This post provides some interesting background on the history legends surrounding the stones.

leaving the stones I cut across the moor until I reached the a track and started my descent down the hill. There were good views across the moors to other hills including Stoodley Pike

About half way down I reached the Wizard of Whirlaw, which stands at an intersection of paths and tracks, including the the Todmorden Centenary Way.

The sculpture may have been inspired by the novel of the same name, published in 1959, written by William (Billy) Holt, a well known character round these parts.

I carried on down the hill over fields and along quiet tracks and lanes enjoying the peace and quiet, the pleasant weather and great views.

Towards the bottom of the hill I reached the start of the town and passed a privately owned historic and Grade II* listed building, It was once the residence of the Yorkshire MP Joshua Fielden which is now divided into private residential apartments. (Information from Wikipedia)

Dropping down to the main road along the Calder Valley, rather than return to the station via the main road, I decided to join the canal towpath.

Reaching the station, I didn’t have too long to wait on the platform for a train back to Wigan.

A Short Break in Lincoln

Posted on March 2, 2026 by ms6282

It was all Simon Reeve’s fault. We’d been watching his Pilgrimage programme on TV during which he visited Lincoln. As a result J decided that it looked like an interesting place for a short city break.

It’s not the easiest place to get to, but ten years ago I driving to somewhere in the middle of nowhere in deepest Lincolnshire and, on my way, as I’d never been there before, I decided to stop off and break my journey to take a look around. It was late afternoon on a very hot day in summer when I arrived and I only spent a couple of hours there. However, as I enjoyed the visit and realised there was much more to see, I decided I’d have to return. Well, it took a while, but last week we had a four day short break there.

We’d booked a modern house with a parking space in a small development a short walk from the Castle and Cathedral. So it was in an ideal location for us. After the rough weather we’d had for most of February, I was worried that we might have a difficult journey getting there and that it might not have been ideal for tourism. However, we were incredibly lucky with sunshine for all four days of our break with only one rainy afternoon.

We set off at 9:30 to avoid the worst of the traffic on the M62, and as we couldn’t access our accommodation until 3 PM, decided to visit Southwell Workhouse, a National Trust property, about 26 miles away over the boundary in Nottinghamshire, before driving to the city.

Rivington Pike

Posted on February 27, 2026 by ms6282

A couple of weeks ago the Tuesday offered relief from the rotten weather we’ve been having so, in the afternoon, I set out for a wander in the Plantations. Setting off, though, on a whim I decided to head over to Rivington and up the Pike. Rather than walk home to pick up the car, I thought I’d use my bus pass and take the bus to Horwich and set off from there for a change. I’m making a concerted effort to use Public Transport for walks and the bus from Wigan to Bolton, which goes through Horwich, passes the end of my street. It meanders through local villages a little rather than takes a direct route but the journey was only a little longer than that by car.

I’ve been walking up and around the Pike ever since I was a young teenager, when the distinctively shaped hill, together with the whaleback of adjacent Winter Hill, were visible from my bedroom window. This time, I didn’t have a particular route in mind, but it’s familiar territory so when I alighted from the bus I set off and wandered as my mood took me.

It was half term, but, surprisingly, although I saw a number of family groups, it wasn’t particularly busy.

I walked down the road towards Rivington school and then took the path that climbed gradually up the side of the Pike towards the Ornamental Gardens. On the way up a deer ran across the path and into the woods. I tried to catch it on a photo, without success.

passing through the gate into the landscaped gardens, I took a path the climbed up the hill, emerging at the Japanese Gardens.

The ornamental Terraced Gardens which were created by Thomas Mawson between 1905 and 1925 for the soap magnate Lord Leverhulme who was born nearby in Bolton. In recent years, a lot of work has been done restoring the gardens and making the structures safe and accessible.

After stopping for a bite to eat I continued onwards and upwards towards the tower at the summit of the Pike.

The summit is 1,191 feet high and was the site of one of a series of early warning beacons spanning England created in the 12th Century. The tower, a folly, is a Grade II listed building, which was completed in 1733.

Looking across to the moors on Winter Hill I was only slightly tempted. I knew that the ground would be like a quagmire so thought better of taking the path over to Noon Hill which has become a favourite route.

Instead I descended to the track below the summit and made my way along towards the Pigeon Tower,

stopping to take in the view over Anglezarke.

I descended down the steps into the gardens which have been restored by teams of volunteers in recent years,

and started to make my way down the hill by a somewhat circuitous route.

At the bottom of the hill I took the track across the bottom of the Pike towards the School from where I retraced my steps back tot he bus stop.

A walk on the Furness Peninsula with the Lancashire Rail Ramblers

Posted on February 16, 2026 by ms6282

Through the Wigan branch of the Ramblers I’ve learned of other walking groups in the area and one that struck my fancy was the Lancashire Rail Ramblers who organise walks utilising – surprise, surprise – the rail network. I finally got round to joining one of their works last Saturday. I’m quite keen on restricting my car use and travelling by public transport, and the walks programme looked interesting, so, appropriately for Valentines Day this sounded like a “marriage made in heaven”.

There were two walks on the programme, setting out from Ulverston and then heading to Dalton-in -Furness to catch the return train. One was a 12 mile walk described as “moderately strenuous” while the other one was “moderately easy” and about 8 miles.

When I arrived at Wigan North Western Station there seemed to be some chaos on the railways with lots of trains in both directions running late. However, my London to Glasgow Avanti train came in more or less on schedule. I arrived at Lancaster in good time for the connection to Ulverston. Changing platforms, I bumped into another person with a rucksack who was also joining the Rail Ramblers, so we travelled together. I then spotted four members of the Wigan Ramblers group, but it turned out they were off to Silverdale to “recce” a walk.

When the train drew out of the station there were plenty of passengers wearing walking gear, all spurred on by the promise of some decent weather after a few weeks of misery, who disembarked at various stations along the route. However, when we arrived at Ulverston there were only 7 walkers who descended to the platform. It transpired that most of the group were on a train that was running late and missed the connection at Lancaster. We had another hour to wait for them. Two walkers decided to head off on their own but the rest of us, rather than wait on the station, set of into the town centre to get a coffee. On the way we passed the statue of Laurel and Hardy, the former having been born in the town.

When we returned to the station we didn’t have long to wait for the rest of the group to arrive, including one familiar face from the Wigan group. It was decision time now – which walk to join? I wasn’t sure about the likely pace of the group going on the long walk. I was concerned that they might be “athletes” and I’d be lagging at the back. So, initially I thought I might go on the shorter, less strenuous walk. However, at the last minute, I decided to chance it and go on the longer one. The lost hour meant that a decision had to be taken during the walk about whether to curtail the route, otherwise the pace would have to be upped to make sure the group would catch the train at 5 o’clock at Dalton. As it happened, the latter option was taken, but I managed to keep up OK.

We set off back through the town, joining the Cumbria Way, which we followed for a few miles.

The ground was muddy and slippy in places, but overall conditions underfoot were much better than the walk the previous week from Audlem.

Looking across to our right we could see a lighthouse up on a hill. This can be seen from all around the Ulverston area. It might a strange place for a lighthouse, and it is, but it isn’t one! It’s actually a 100 foot high monument, built in 1850 by public subscription,as a memorial for a local notable, for Sir John Barrow. It stands on the 450 ft high summit of Hoad Hill, and is a Grade II* listed building.

Snowdrops starting to bloom gave a hint that, despite recent weather, Spring wasn’t too far off.

It wasn’t long before the snow covered fells came into view.

During the walk we had views of the Lakeland Fells, Ingleborough and some of the other high hills in the Yorkshire Dales, Morecambe Day, the Duddon Estuary, the Irish Sea and even a glimpse of the Isle of man.

Zooming in we could just make out Coniston Water too.

After a brief lunch break – time was pressing if we were to make the 5 o’clock train – we carried on climbing up on to the fell. The weather was now starting to come in from the west.

At the summit of the walk, where we had views ahead towards Black Combe and the Duddon estuary, there was a little snow on the ground. We could see rain coming in.

As we turned south down the path to start the second leg heading towards Dalton, snow began to fall. Fortunately it didn’t last too long as we still had more than half the walk ahead of us, over moorland, passing by wind farms and two reservoirs and along country lanes.

I spent most of the rest of the walk talking and getting to know other members of the group and so didn’t take any more pictures. We also had to pick up the pace a little if we were going to catch that train. I’m glad to say we made with about 10 minutes to spare. The shorter route group were waiting on the platform. They’d arrived almost an hour earlier, just in time to see the 4 o’clock train pulling out of the station!

The return journey went to plan. I changed at Preston and only had a 10 minute wait for the Avanti train – next stop Wigan North Western.

I enjoyed the walk. Given the weather forecast, I bet the Lake District was bursting at the seams, but, although we did see a few other walkers, Furness, being outside the National Park is a little off the beaten track and was very quiet. I hadn’t done a 12 miler for some time (boosted by another 3 miles to and from the train station in Wigan and the diversion into Ulverston) so was tired by the time I got home. I needed a couple of days to recover!

Down by the Dougie

“Beware those men, the jokers and the tricksters and the clowns. They will laugh us into hell.”