-
Ah, the joys of heather burning season
It’s the delightful season of heather burning, and I found myself on Hasty Bank, the perfect vantage point to witness the breathtaking spectacle of over a dozen smoke columns gracefully dancing across a vast 180° panorama of the North York Moors, stretching from Gisborough Moor to the majestic Black Hambleton. In the photo above, these…
-
Sunday Morning Coming Down
Though Johnny Cash’s song is as clear as crystal about solitude, the blues, and the foggy haze of a Sunday morning after a wild Saturday night, it oddly echoes the serenity of this particular Sunday morning, which coincided with the first frost of the season, a gentle nudge reminding us of the impending winter’s chills.…
-
Coal Dust and Grief: The Senghenydd Colliery Disaster of 1913
An afternoon’s saunter on South Gare, where the Tees River meets the sea. A remarkably high tide, a strong westerly breeze, and a rainbow glistening on the roaring waves. Or should I perhaps refer to that as a ‘spray bow’? Cobwebs duly blown away, I thought about how I could relate Britain’s worst pit disaster,…
-
Helmsley Castle
During a brisk stroll through Duncombe Park, well before the weather took a turn for the better, I couldn’t help but notice that despite its vastness, there aren’t many designated paths for a leisurely amble. I found myself occupied for a spell, exploring the remnants of the WW2 army camp, but it was Helmsley Castle…
-
Ulpha and the Traveller’s Rest Inn
I’m still recounting my adventures in the Lake District last weekend. Monday turned out to be a real gloomy one, with clouds hanging low and some drizzle here and there. I reckon I caught a glimpse of the sun once, but those rugged hilltop views remained elusive. As I descended from the murky heavens, the…
-
Seathwaite Tarn
Nestling in the cupped embrace of the Coniston Fells lies Seathwaite Tarn, all glittery and serene. It’s wrapped up by a wild autumn tapestry of dull olive, blazing copper, and pale maroon, sprinkled with a hint of grey cliffs and little patches of piney green. The fickle sky’s in a sullen mood, draping the shadowy…
-
The ghost of Frith Hall
A handful of days nestled within the charming embrace of the Duddon Valley in the Lakes, a forced separation from the digital world. I’ve passed through Ulpha on numerous occasions in the past, en route to Eskdale and the lofty central fells. Yet, a few days in this tranquil dale have unveiled a treasure…
-
St. Hilda’s Chapel Archaeological Dig
My Wednesdays are spent at an archaeological dig at the medieval chapel site in Kildale and on my penultimate day for this season, a reflection of the progress so far. We’ve unearthed a further trove of pottery, yet raised more questions than answers. This season started with six tidy two-metre square test trenches, but they…
-
Local Governance Quagmires: Who Pays for Road Repairs?
One might think that our modern roads just magically appeared, but let’s cast our gaze upon the B1257, the stretch that runs between Stokesley and Helmsley, for a tale of twists and turns. First, let’s scale Cushat Hill to Clay Bank, which, back in the day, used to be known as Hagg’s Gate. Then, it…
-
When Satnavs Lead Astray: A Tale from a Trail Race
Great Ayton Moor, a dull overcast day but dry. That’s Capt. Cook’s Monument is the distance. I found myself thinking about an observation I made over the weekend. I found myself manning a checkpoint on a trail race that traversed my local moors. This particular checkpoint was strategically positioned at the intersection of public bridleways,…
Care to comment?