Category: Bransdale
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Bloworth Slack—Not as Lazy as It Sounds
Bloworth Slack, just moments before it meets Badger Gill to become Hodge Beck. Bransdale again — but today we’ve been beside this quietly lovely woodland stream, its amber rocks lit by a sky so clear it almost seems rude. I never took Geography at ‘O’ Level. I was a science boy, apparently, and Geography was…
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The Duncombe Drive: Lost in Plain Sight
Repairs to fencing offered a rare glimpse into a part of Bransdale not open to the public. The photograph shows Hall Plantation, where a line of beech trees accentuates what is clearly an old trackway, its course still visible beneath a deep carpet of last year’s leaves. The track has been sitting quietly here since…
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The Art of Dry-Stone Walling
It is widely held that the valleys of Rosedale, Farndale, Bilsdale and here in Bransdale show not the faintest scratch of glacial meddling. While the ice sheets rampaged around Yorkshire like uninvited guests, the North York Moors sat apart, dry and stubborn, an island that refused to drown. Geologists cling to an old rule, which…
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Among the Tree Guards of Bransdale
In Bransdale today, work continued among the ranks of tree guards set out over recent winters. The task was to fell the self-seeded conifer saplings that have spread so thickly through this corner of Bloworth Wood. New woodland does not simply grow and look after itself; it demands steady, patient management. From the valley floor,…
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Filling the Gaps on a Bransdale Hillside
A return to Bransdale, where last winter the National Trust planted 6,000 saplings onto the steep side of Bloworth Slack. The site had been clear-felled, a blank but messy page waiting for a better story than rows of timber grown for profit. To give the youngsters a fighting chance, the usual tree guards went in.…
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Breck House and an Athletic John Brown
A blocked road just north of Helmsley forced us into a long and meandering detour on our way to Bonfield Ghyll. Still, it offered the consolation of fresh glimpses of familiar country. This is Breck House in upper Bransdale, a solid stone-built Moors farmhouse dating to after 1850. Yet an estate survey from 1782 records…
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A Schoolmaster’s Ruttling Death
A day repairing a fence near the old schoolhouse, now a community centre for the dale’s families. Yet its walls may once have echoed with the rod and the recitation, for Bransdale’s children endured the Victorian discipline of Robert Johnson, their schoolmaster. And in 1874, Johnson met an end so vile that the newspapers thundered…
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Low and High Elm Houses, Bransdale
These once neighbouring farmsteads tell a complex story. For those intrigued to know the details, take a look at my previous post. High Elm House apparently carries a date stone of 1666, probably reused, and also has “Mr Thos Chapman // 1780” carved above the byre door — but once again I forgot to look…
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The Hay Barn at Bransdale Mill
Tucked away behind Bransdale Mill stands this elegant three-bay hay barn, built in stone and retiled in the 1980s. Once, each arched entrance was fitted with sturdy wooden double doors, a reminder of its working life. The barn belongs to the story of the Bransdale Mill complex, largely shaped in the 18th century under William…
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The Long Lost Way to Cockayne
At first glance, it is nothing remarkable: a pair of stone gate stoops, standing quietly beside a graceful curve in a dry-stone wall, just south-west of Cockayne Church. But ignore the leaning wooden 5-bar gate secured by baling twine, and a closer look tells a different story. These are no rough farm gateposts. Each is…