Category: North York Moors
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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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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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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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A Costly Collop — The Ubiquitous Smoke of Burning Heather
A view south-east, straight into a hazy sun, down Lonsdale and across to Kildale Moor. The scene is, of course, marred by a hibernal plume of smoke from the burning of the heather, because no landscape is complete without an artificial smog. But enough about that. Today is the penultimate opportunity for carnivorous indulgence before…
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Baysdale and a Digression into the Art of Grave Digging
Baysdale today, perhaps the remotest dale in the North York Moors, accessible by car only from its head. This is Shepherd’s House, the last in the dale—or perhaps the first, depending on one’s perspective. I have already posted about Baysdale ad nauseum, so instead, I shall give you a little snippet from the Newcastle Guardian…
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Beyond the Pale: The Lingering Echoes of Kildale’s Past
The sky was an unnervingly perfect shade of cerulean this morning, while overnight frost clung on stubbornly in the shadows. This is the view from Percy Rigg towards Coate Moor, the back of Captain Cook’s, the monument making a feeble attempt at visibility—you will need to squint or zoom in if you are truly desperate…
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The Sheep of Clough
A heap of moss-covered sandstone, once a farmstead, now a sheep stronghold. This is Clough, where the path from Bilsdale Moor West meets another from Staindale to Raisdale Mill. In 1781, William Hunton lived here, followed in 1826 by John Garbutt, who managed thirty-five acres. Today, the only residents are the sheep, who seem perfectly…
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Family Farms or Tax Havens? The Debate Over Farmland Inheritance
A picturesque view of Roseberry looming over the Cleveland Vale, a landscape dotted with the usual mix of arable and livestock farming. A typical lowland farm grows wheat, barley, and oilseed rape while also rearing cattle and sheep. These farms are mostly family-run or tenanted, though one suspects that “family-run” has a rather flexible definition…