Category: North York Moors
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The night lengthens and the day wanes
Ah, Roseberry on the autumnal equinox – or, perhaps I should say: “a day with not much to see.” At precisely 1:44pm BST, the Earth performed its annual act of balancing on a metaphorical tightrope. It’s axis, normally so busy tilting this way and that, was for once perfectly upright, neither tipping its cap to…
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From Widheris to Wether House: A Farmstead’s History
On Wetherhouse Moor, nature is quietly concealing the remains of a post-medieval farmstead beneath the watchful eye of a solitary sycamore. Of the original three ranges, little can be discerned now, save for a crumbling gable end of a barn. It has, for more than a century, since the last tenants left, been steadily yielding…
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Mauley Cross: Linking Ancient Ritual with Regency Enterprise
Mauley Cross, that modest monument to the caprices of the de Mauley family, likely served as a marker of their grazing rights or, if we are to believe the National Park’s heritage record, a humble wayside guide for those wandering the moors. It could, of course, have been both, though neither role saved it from…
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A Glimpse of Baysdale
This morning’s short walk along Battersby Moor offered this view towards the upper reaches of Baysdale, formerly known as Basedale. From here, you can see the two main tributaries—Black Beck and Gain Beck—separated by the ridge aptly named Middle Head, while the moorland edge is dominated by commercial plantations that create a stark contrast to…
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The Golden Gown of Gribdale Gate
Ah, another splendid day graced with the magic of Autumn! In this view from Gribdale Gate looking down Lonsdale, the summer’s lush bracken has begun to don its golden-brown gown, though the purple heather still manages to tinge the valley side. Beneath the vast, cerulean sky, the air sparkles with the seed fluff of Rosebay…
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Bagged for Your Convenience
After a return from just a few days away in the Lakes, I was delighted to find that the National Trust, in their usual brilliance, had thoughtfully helicoptered in around 40 large bags up the main path of Roseberry. Each one, of course, containing roughly a ton of aggregate to ensure they did not have…
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The Rise and Fall of Cod Beck Reservoir
Given the recent weather, I was quite taken aback to find Cod Beck Reservoir so low, although this is by no means unprecedented. I have a sneaking suspicion that Yorkshire Water has intentionally carried out a water release, perhaps as part of a scour test or some other enigmatic plan. I’ll resist from drawing any…
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Grenfell — Reflections
While following a trail carved out by mountain bikers through a dark plantation in Hutton Lowcross, I came across upon this lively burst of green pushing its way through the thick blanket of fallen larch needles. I believe it might be the northern buckler-fern, Dryopteris expansa. But meanwhile … The report into the Grenfell fire…
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Lilac Cottage and Other Euphemisms for the Necessary
This humble structure, built around 1780, at a discrete distance from the Warren farmhouse, was none other than the privy – or, as we might say today, the lavatory. It served the necessary purpose of waste disposal, likely relying on what was known as an “earth closet.” Now a Grade II Listed Building, it has…
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The Forgotten Rebellion: Winter Hill’s Mass Trespass of 1896
Another delightfully dreich day on the North York Moors. In the murk, we stumbled upon two workers labouring away on the new footpath up Roseberry. The path, prepared to its subsoil, resembles some sort of glutinous purgatory, offering a walking experience only slightly less pleasurable than a swim in wet cement. The workers mentioned the…