Tag: history
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Teddy’s Nook: Where Facts are Optional
Working with the National Trust at Old Saltburn, tucked away in Littledale—a predictably small valley with a narrow view across to the new town. The place has some flora worth noting, though you will be mostly clawing your way through Blackthorn, Gorse, and Brambles. Today’s thrilling task was hacking back this jungle. Perched smugly on…
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Wellies, Floods, and the Debate over Captain Cook
Billy Connolly once sang about the virtues of wellies: “Cause they keep out the water, and they keep in the smell.” This morning, I was rather pleased to have followed his wisdom, as the path to Little Ayton was a sodden mess thanks to the rain and snowmelt. Here is a photo of the path…
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William Mudd: Lichens, Legacy, and a Whiff of Whisky
There I was, trudging along the escarpment of Great Ayton Moor this morning, mulling over what I might post about today, when a patched-up bit of dry-stone wall caught my eye. Naturally, my thoughts turned to how many times one can repair a wall before it ceases to be the original. Yes, I am aware…
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The Beck, the Inn, and the Blizzard: Histories of Slape Stones
I quite like this photo. It captures the sweeping valley of Slape Stones Beck, leading—predictably enough—to the hamlet of Slape Stones. The scene positively drips with tranquillity, and after the boisterous festive season perhaps a reminder to pause and simply be. How very profound. The name Slape Stones, unlike the beck, has fallen out of…
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The Skiddaw Hermit : Eccentricity on a Mountaintop
Many of you have likely heard of Millican Dalton, the so-called hermit and adventurer of Castle Crag in Borrowdale. In the 1920s and 30s, he managed to carve out a reputation by living in a cave and offering guided walks and canoe trips for tourists seeking a bit of excitement. A hermit in name only,…
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Storms, Sunlight, and a Trespass to Remember
Given the grim weather forecast of strong winds, we opted for a walk that would not risk life and limb. The summit of Latrigg offered a theatrical view: a single beam of sunlight, no doubt feeling very pleased with itself, pierced through dark clouds to spotlight a few houses near Keswick, with Bleaberry Fell lurking…
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Knock Pike and Memories of Youth and Reckless Ambition
A brief pause en route to a few days of damp splendour in the Lakes. This is Knock Pike, an outlier on the Pennine chain. A 1950 article in the Penrith Observer caught my attention. It detailed the results of a “Guides Race,” a professional fell race to the summit of this and back, starting…
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Tudor Christmas: Twelve Days of Saints and Swans
Up at an unholy hour to climb up Roseberry Topping and watch the sunrise. We were not alone. The place was packed, because apparently nothing says “Christmas spirit” like elbowing strangers on a hilltop. In Tudor times, you would not have found the masses up here. They would have been at Mass, fulfilling their religious…
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A Slog up Roseberry Topping and a Nod to Pagan Roots
I could claim it was a brisk dash up Roseberry Topping this morning, but in truth, it was more of a plodding trudge. Perhaps it only felt that way because I foolishly dressed for winter, not realising it would be unseasonably warm for Christmas Eve. This is the view from the summit, looking down on…
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Lealholm and the story of John Castillo, Poet and Stonemason
Lealholm developed around the first place you could sensibly cross the River Esk, just downstream of the dramatic gorge of Crunkly Ghyll. In the good old days, people splashed through a ford until someone finally built this graceful 17th-century bridge, which managed to survive the disastrous 1930 flood—unlike the bridges further downstream in Glaisdale, Egton,…