Month: December 2024
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The Bleak Back oâ Skiddaw
Itâs been a wet and windy day in the Lakes, so naturally very little was accomplished. Instead, here is a photo from yesterday. The âback oâ Skiddawâ offers little to marvel atâa few sheepfolds dot an otherwise featureless landscape. Any rock that dares to stand out gets christened and turned into a boundary marker. This…
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The Colours of a Rainy Dawn
âRed sky at morningâ is not always the âshepherdâs warningâ or, for that matter, the âsailorâs warning.â Sometimes, just sometimes, it promises a pleasant day for the shepherd and a dry fleece for his sheep. Naturally, so the shepherds say, this depends entirely on whether the red sky âgoes overâ or stays sulking in the…
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Storms, Sunlight, and a Trespass to Remember
Given the grim weather forecast of strong winds, we opted for a walk that would not risk life and limb. The summit of Latrigg offered a theatrical view: a single beam of sunlight, no doubt feeling very pleased with itself, pierced through dark clouds to spotlight a few houses near Keswick, with Bleaberry Fell lurking…
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Knock Pike and Memories of Youth and Reckless Ambition
A brief pause en route to a few days of damp splendour in the Lakes. This is Knock Pike, an outlier on the Pennine chain. A 1950 article in the Penrith Observer caught my attention. It detailed the results of a âGuides Race,â a professional fell race to the summit of this and back, starting…
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Temperature Inversions and Timetable Errors
A glorious morning on the hills south of Guisborough, the so-called top of Belmangate. While the town wallowed in cold and damp misery, those above the temperature inversion were treated to the breathtaking sight of Eston Nab and Airy Hill rising like islands from the clouds, with a diffused Brocken spectre thrown in for good…
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A Festive Hack or a Public Nuisance? My Meeting with the Hunt
Ah, the Boxing Day Hunt â that charming spectacle where tradition meets a total disregard for everyone else on the bridleway. How delightful to encounter the alpha redcoat, who generously allowed me some space before the rest of the merry field boxed me against the fence. Nose to tail they rode, oblivious to the fact…
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Tudor Christmas: Twelve Days of Saints and Swans
Up at an unholy hour to climb up Roseberry Topping and watch the sunrise. We were not alone. The place was packed, because apparently nothing says âChristmas spiritâ like elbowing strangers on a hilltop. In Tudor times, you would not have found the masses up here. They would have been at Mass, fulfilling their religious…
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A Slog up Roseberry Topping and a Nod to Pagan Roots
I could claim it was a brisk dash up Roseberry Topping this morning, but in truth, it was more of a plodding trudge. Perhaps it only felt that way because I foolishly dressed for winter, not realising it would be unseasonably warm for Christmas Eve. This is the view from the summit, looking down on…
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Lealholm and the story of John Castillo, Poet and Stonemason
Lealholm developed around the first place you could sensibly cross the River Esk, just downstream of the dramatic gorge of Crunkly Ghyll. In the good old days, people splashed through a ford until someone finally built this graceful 17th-century bridge, which managed to survive the disastrous 1930 floodâunlike the bridges further downstream in Glaisdale, Egton,…
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Feeding Time at Clumber Park
Our annual family pilgrimage to the Dukeries of Nottinghamshire took place on a day so bitterly cold it felt as if the wind was personally attacking us. Two years since our last visit to Clumber Park, and it seems the National Trust has turned the festive season into a commercial extraganza. Extra off-road parking, a…