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Cocken Kirke: A History of Threats, Mumbling, and Collapse
A day spent clearing up yet more storm damage with the National Trust at Bransdale. Which storm was it? Storm Éowyn, perhaps? It is hard to say; they all blur together after a while. Despite a dusting of snow on the high moors overnight, the weather has been suspiciously well-behaved. Lunch on the green at…
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Sinister Relics at Penrod Spring
Two years ago, during one of my habitual wanderings, I stumbled upon a peculiar structure concealed within a 19th-century walled enclosure at the so-called Penrod Spring. I say “so-called” because there was no trace of water. Buried in its crumbling remains was a sinister wooden contraption, shaped like a ‘T’—reminiscent of some oversized bird perch—adorned…
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Harehope Quarry
I had heard of Frosterley “marble”—a misleading name for what is actually a dark, durable limestone. It can be cut and polished like real marble, but unlike the genuine article, it is riddled with fossils, mainly solitary corals, which create peculiar patterns when sliced open. It has been used extensively in buildings of note, including…
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Lord Raby’s Smelting Scheme: The Story of Gaunless Mill
The weather has taken a turn for the worse, so a modest walk it is, to gaze upon the Gaunless Mill Chimney at Copley. This lone, crumbling relic of Teesdale’s lead smelting past stands in quiet defiance of time and indifference. The Gaunless Mill, despite being on a tributary of the Wear rather than the…
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The Bishop’s Stones
Up on the bleak moorlands of the North Pennines today, straddling the borders of Durham, Cumbria, and Northumberland. A landscape of peat groughs and bogs thick with sphagnum moss, stirring memories—not necessarily unpleasant, just good times when I was fit enough to fly over this stuff without hesitating. Judging by the abundance of medicated grit…
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Harehope Burn Lead Mine
What a thrill it is to stumble upon the unexpected. A bit of history, a scenic spot, or perhaps a fleeting moment with nature. Weardale is unfamiliar to me, and my expectations were suitably low for the hills south of Wolsingham. So imagine my joy when we found the remains of Harehope Burn Lead Mine,…
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Kildale Moor Revisited
Ah yes, for the second day in a row, I found myself wandering around Kildale Moor, once again staring down at Sleddale Slack—though, to keep things fresh, I chose a slightly different vantage point. Variety is the spice of life, after all. Off to the right, perched on the high ground, is Percy Rigg, home…
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Kildale Moor: Cairnfields and Forgotten Paths
The sky is a washed-out blue, untroubled by clouds. Even in their dreary winter shades, the moors still manage to look grand. I find myself on Kildale Moor, a vast expanse littered with prehistoric cairnfields, settlements, and funerary monuments. Allegedly. In reality, one must squint to discern any such features. The standing stone, however, is…
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The Teachers’ Bridge
A comment on an old post prompted me to take this photograph. It shows the River Leven meandering lazily through what was once the grounds of the Friends’ School in Great Ayton. The water tumbles over a small weir on the left, adding a touch of drama to an otherwise tranquil scene, while the so-called…
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Urra Moor on Pancake Day
Up on Urra Moor this morning, the sun made an appearance, but the wind still had a bite to it. This is the view across Bilsdale to Hasty Bank. If you strain your eyes, you might just make out Roseberry Topping in the far distance. I suppose I must acknowledge that it is Pancake Day—though…
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