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Scorched Earth: A Cool Burn on Hasty Bank
Ah yes, the wonders of the so-called “cool burn”—a delightful little exercise in setting fire to the heather in supposedly small, controlled patches. The idea, we are told, is to clear out the old heather without charring the peat or moss underneath, thereby avoiding carbon loss and allowing for quick regrowth. The fire, they assure…
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An Abandoned Stone Quarry on Ayton Bank
Someone once told me, or perhaps I read it somewhere, that there were twelve quarries along the edge of the escarpment between Roseberry Topping and Easby Moor, including the one on the summit itself. Do not expect a citation; it is just one of those pointless facts that have lodged themselves in my brain, refusing…
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Repairing the Damage: A Belated Attempt to Save the Moors
In 1955, Bill Cowley had the bright idea of establishing a long-distance walk across the North York Moors, from Osmotherley to Ravenscar. By the late 1970s, the Lyke Wake Walk had become a rite of passage for the outdoor-obsessed, with an estimated 18,000 people a year trudging the 42-mile route. Unsurprisingly, by the next decade,…
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Fire, Fumes, and Fatality: Scugdale’s Calcining Kiln
In the early 19th century, Scugdale was an unremarkable little dale where people busied themselves with weaving and bleaching fine linens. The local economy depended on at least four water mills, all fed by the ever-reliable Scugdale Beck. That is, until 1857, when progress arrived in the form of a two-mile railway branch between Swainby…
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A Nisly Day over Aireyholme
An old book of weather proverbs I have offers an array of predictions for March, ensuring that, whatever the weather, one can always find something vaguely reassuring within its pages. One such gem is a French proverb: “When March is like April, April will be like March.” How profound. The notion of “April showers” stems…
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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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