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The Hand Stone of Ingleby Moor
On the desolate expanse of Ingleby Moor stands a weathered stone guidepost, rising tall beyond a metre. Its west face bears the inscription “TO INGLEBY AND STOXLEY,” while the east face proudly displays “TO GUISBORO,” and on the south face, the words “TO KIRBY AND HELMSLEY 1757” are inscribed. But what sets this landmark apart…
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Aireyholme Lane — A trade route of the past?
Descending Aireyholme Lane to the farm was like being part of a time-honoured ritual, with the sheep gracefully separating like the biblical Moses parting the Red Sea. The scene held an air of timelessness, as if this track had been used since the dawn of time. But one couldn’t help but wonder, when exactly was…
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Am I part of the problem?
Doesn’t it strike you, as it often does me, the impact of the overwhelming number of people now trampling across our once serene hills and moors? I confess, I don’t mean to sound presumptuous or possessive, for they are meant to be savoured and shared by all who can appreciate them. Yet I can’t shake…
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Sunday serenity in the rain
“When Roseberry Topping wears a cap, All Cleveland is in for a clap.” Or so the old saying goes. Yet, today, it wore more than a mere cap—the whole moors lay beneath a thick duvet of cloud, lost in obscurity. My memory fails to recall when the rain last poured relentlessly throughout the entire day.…
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Cercy Pross Rigg and its chet warm
On this day in 1844, a man named William Archibald Spooner was born. He later became an Anglican clergyman and warden of New College, Oxford. What made him famous were his ‘Spoonerisms,’ where he accidentally switched letters in phrases, resulting in amusing expressions like ‘It is kisstomary to cuss the bride,‘ and ‘a well-boiled icicle.‘…
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The Stones of Lamentation
One of the contenders for the most iconic landmark of the North York Moors must be the Wainstones – a rock-climbing wonderland adorned with jumbled columns of Middle Jurassic sandstone, once the ocean’s ancient bed. Legend has it that the name ‘Wain-stones’ might have derived from the Saxon word ‘wanian,’ meaning to howl, and hinted…
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18th-Century stables and cartshed at Bransdale Mill
If you’ve ever been to Bransdale Mill, you will have seen the old barn propped up for years by scaffolding to prevent collapse. This has been necessary since the Public Footpath passes directly below the north end gable. Now the barn is stable at last, its scaffolding gone. And a fine sight it is. One…
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An encounter with the gamekeeper
The North York Moors Historic Enviroment Record describes this ruin as a “post medieval sheep fold identified from historic mapping with slight structural remains,” but the dressed stones to me point to a more substantial building. I am on Warren Moor looking down on the secluded Leven Vale. Now, the “field” beyond that fence isn’t…
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The Cleveland Dyke
A view that looking northwest from Cliff Rigg along Langbaurgh Ridge, both part of that striking intrusion of igneous rock known as the Cleveland Dyke. Formed when molten magma flowed like a fiery torrent from a volcanic fount near the distant island of Mull in Scotland, a staggering 58 million years ago. A remarkable journey…
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‘Klifland’
If asked to define the Cleveland Hills, some people would say they begin at the utmost northern point with the prominent Eston Nab overlooking the industrial landscape of Teesside. They would continue their description southwards, encompassing the Guisborough Moors and Roseberry Topping. Alternatively, some might designate this conspicuous peak itself, which rises to a height…
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