Category: Hutton Moor
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The Yow and Two Boundary Stones
The yow was waiting for me. At least, that is how it felt. She stood beside two boundary stones as if on sentry duty, a glint of mischief in her eye and a smile that gave nothing away. Mona Lisa would have approved. One stone is plain but upright, the other broken and almost recumbent,…
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Operation Starfish: A Decoy on the Moor
It is widely known around here that this brick structure on Percy Rigg was once a World War Two control bunker, part of a secret Air Ministry plan to protect British towns from German bombing raids. The scheme relied on decoys—an unusual mix of science and theatre designed to mislead the Luftwaffe. Wikipedia devotes a…
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Hutton Moor—A Story of Ownership and Change
Hutton Moor, with Highcliff Nab and Guisborough in the distance, holds memories of the 1970s when I initially settled in the area. At that time, it bore scars of degradation due to off-road motorcyclists exploiting it as their playground. Under the ownership of the Owners of the Middlesbrough Estate, I found myself compelled to seek…
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Hutton Moor — Biodiversity vs. Profit
This is Hutton Moor at the northern end of the Percy Cross Rigg track. I see that the self-seeded birch and spruce that have sprouted on the heather moorland have been unceremoniously cut down. The rationale is clear; if left unchecked, the moorland will eventually transform into a birch woodland. However, this does come at…
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The Execution of King Charles I and the Chaloner Connection
On this day, 30 January, 1649, at Whitehall, Oliver Cromwell oversaw the executioner Richard Brandon chopping off the head of the King of England, Charles I. Thomas and James Chaloner, sons of the courtier Sir Thomas Chaloner (1559-1615) from Guisborough, were among the 135 commissioners at the King’s trial. Thomas, (born 1595) bolder than his…
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Plough Monday
The Monday after Epiphany used to be a day off for ploughmen up North. You’d enter a village and come across these agricultural labourers, all decked out in ribbons and those pristine white smocks, dragging the Fool-plough through the streets. It was their way of saying, ‘Hey, don’t forget, your bread depends on us pushing these…
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“The Glorious Twelfth” — A Tradition Under Scrutiny
The moors were eerily silent this morning, a stark departure from the cacophony of gunfire that might be expected to reverberate across the heather today. Not a single report echoed in the air, just an eerie silence that draped the landscape like a shroud. Even the normally noisy grouse seem to sense an awareness of…
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Ernaldsti, never a RUPP
Ernaldsti, that medieval track associated with the Percy family crossing Hutton Moor, down Percy Rigg and over to Ralph Cross, via Westerdale. I suspect that the true line of this historical route over the moor lies concealed within the hollow-way, just a stone’s throw to the right of the modern track, and to the left…
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Highcliffe Farm
I’ve posted about Highcliffe Farm before, located on the wide and shallow col between Highcliff Nab and Great Ayton Moor; unsheltered from the winds from the north and the south. One might question the wisdom of setting up a farm in such an exposed spot. The landscape owes its origins to the ancient forces of…
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Birch — a pioneer species in the succession of moorland into woodland
On a dreich morning such as this, I do find the heather moorland to be a rather lacklustre hue of brown, struggling to emerge from its wintry dormancy. But amidst this dullness, here on Hutton Moor, scores of self-seeded birch saplings bursting with fresh green leaves bring colour and vibrancy to the otherwise subdued landscape.…