Down Memory Lane
A long walk but a good one for winter when the fields are soggy as much of it is on lanes and bridleways.
Nice and varied, hills, fields, lanes and the canal, with an optional detour into Barnoldswick with its interesting little alley ways, independent shops and cafes.
11 miles – allow 5 hours plus however long you spend in those shops and cafes!
Parking - I walked from my home, so you would need to park near the Trawden Arms in Trawden BB8 8RU – a good place to eat on your return.
After a week of heavy rain and unpleasant journeys on the motorways in the wet and dark, I was going a bit stir crazy, so when the sun shone on Sunday morning, I got the house tidy and the washing in and made my sandwiches and customary flask of milky coffee at record speed. ‘Should have left it’, I can hear some of you saying, but I like walking back in and not having to set to!
As I set off from home, the day was so clear I could see Ingleborough far in the distance from the top of the village. Seeing the table top flatness against the skyline brings back so many good memories of walks in the Dales over the past few years. Dropping down into the centre of the village by the Trawden Arms and turning right up Rock Lane, I had a little peek into the sparkly Christmas displays of the gift shop and saw lots of things I would like but don’t need! Opposite was a gift of nature anyway and these are always free. But this one was a little confusing. A cherry blossom tree in bloom, like the one I saw in Langcliffe 2 weeks ago. What is going on? Nature is as confused about the seasons as Parliament seems to be about Brexit! At the top of the hill, I took a left at a bend in the road, this old track leads to the top of Winewall, and as the track ends and you bear left down the steep road, there’s my old house on the right, 29 Winewall Lane and I can almost hear my teenagers thundering down the stairs as I shout “tea’s ready”. Ah – fond memories from years ago! Looking across to Pendle on my left, cloud floated across its flanks from half way up so the familiar ridge was hidden from view, but the views across to Colne with the Town Hall clock and the Church were wonderful and familiar – these were the views from my lounge window for 10 years!
At the bottom of Winewall I turned right onto the main road for about 20 yards and then joined the old tram tracks off to the right, this is a shortcut up to Standroyd Road which leads you up to Keighley Road. Crossing Keighley Road, I followed the roundabout across to the Morris Dancers pub (one of the first pubs I ever went in – ah those memories again!) and then I took a right up Venables Avenue and walked up past Park High School remembering all the years I dropped my kids off at school there. Right – enough of memories, I’m supposed to be living in the moment here! Past the school and left onto Castle Road and the views of Foulridge Upper and Lower Reservoirs and the hills of the Yorkshire Dales opened up. What a glorious place I live in. As the road dips there’s a lane on the right leading down to the reservoirs and I followed this, stopping to watch a large flock of Canada Geese sunning themselves on the banks of the very full reservoir. Nice to see it so full after it has been almost empty since July! As I watched the geese, 2 late arrivals were honking their way across the sky and they glided in, landing right in the middle of the group. After crossing the lane which bisects the reservoir, I followed a yellow arrow on my left, climbing over a stile into a very wet field and heading towards Broach Flat farm. Through a kissing gate, boots slithering on the mud I followed the left field edge and inched my way over very slippy duck boards. 45 degrees right now and I was at Foulridge Primary school, all quiet on a Saturday. “What lucky children,” I thought, “playing out in these grounds with these amazing views up to Noyna Rocks.” They probably don’t give it a thought – I know I didn’t at age 7 when I was lucky enough to attend Gisburn School.
Following the school driveway down to the main road I turned right and crossed the road after 20 metres or so, looking out for the footpath on the left that skirts Foulridge Lower Reservoir. The sun was shining brightly now and it was off with my hat and gloves and time for a drink of coffee on a well positioned bench.
In contrast to the noisy Canada Geese at the top reservoir, here 2 doves landed silently on the tree right next to my bench. All quiet now for a couple of minutes and then the sound of the pad pad of a runner’s feet as he ran past me, his panting breath disturbing the doves who flew off, their wings beating in unison.
Never mind, many miles to go, so I needed to press on. At the boat club I left the reservoir and crossed the little tarmacked lane onto the farm track opposite, there’s a yellow footpath sign on the entrance. As I passed old farmhouses, a robin hopped on a moss-topped wall, sun sparkled through bare branches and water rushed and gurgled past twisted tree trunks and ivy covered roots. Ditches that for so long had been dry, were now alive with bubbling, babbling water gushing into a hidden tunnel under the lane.
Past Holly Bush farm and the track ended without any apparent footpath. A gate on the right led into a field and a chestnut pony with a white blaze approached me. “Hello” I said, “Is there a footpath in your field?” But the pony was not amused and ears pressed back, he blew his nostrils and turned tail, flinging mud up in his wake.
‘Oh well’, I thought, ‘I’ll consult my map.’ However, when I extracted this from my day sack, I found I had brought ‘Hedben Bridge and the South Pennines’ which wasn’t much use when I was near Colne! That’ll teach me to put my glasses on instead of thinking I recognise the picture on the front of the map!
Gut instinct told me this field was where I should be and that I should be heading leftish! Sure enough leftish it was and there was a little gate with a welcome yellow arrow. Straight up this field and I was at Whitemoor Riding Stables where for many years I sat and watched Katie trot round the indoor arena, (on a horse naturally!). Now another horse stood in my way, a very big one with feet the size of dinner plates. “You’re not on the path!” bellowed the woman who owns the stables, “And watch that fence, it’s electric!” ‘Oh great,’ I thought, ‘either get trampled or get electrocuted!’ “Just walk past him, he’s fine,” she said. That’s 18 hands of ‘fine’ to you and me. So if you do this walk make sure you stay in the field and don’t go through a gate onto a little lane like I did!
Moving swiftly through the yard (!) I turned left onto the road for about 100 metres and then onto the Gisburn track. It’s a tough little climb here but I left a much younger guy way behind me as I marched on to Weets House Farm where the views of the Ribble Valley and the Longridge fells were laid out in all their splendor. On the way, several alpacas grazed in a field and a baby one was sporting a blue coat – super cute! At the gate just past the farmhouse, I turned right onto the Pendle Way and now I was on the moors proper, but it’s a good track so no getting lost here. The wind was icy though, blowing right up the Ribble Valley, so hat and gloves back on.
I love Weets Hill, the sky was blue and the profile of the trig point set against the horizon made it look like a little white chimney puffing smoke across the moors! Time for lunch now, so I settled down behind a wall off to the right and realised that I was looking 8 miles across to my usual picnic spot on the top of Boulsworth Hill!
As I was munching my ham and tomato sandwich, 2 teenage boys cycled towards me grumbling good-naturedly about how many bogs they’d got stuck in, how wet they were and how one of them had just cut his leg on his pedal. “Sounds horrendous, your bike ride,” I laughed. “No, it’s great fun”, they said, “We’re coming up on Christmas day, come rain or shine!” I’ll stick to my walking I think!
An icy wind blew me all the way down Folly Lane into Barnoldswick and here I had a choice. At the main road, I could turn right and walk about a mile to the road down to Salterforth on the left from where I would pick up the canal-side path back to Foulridge village. Or – I could go left into Barnoldswick and look for tea and cakes. Tea and cakes won, thereby adding 2 miles to my walk and to add insult to injury, there wasn’t a gluten free cake to be had anywhere in Barnoldswick, oh dear. My exact words were not ‘oh dear’ but modesty forbids me from typing them! I walked through the town centre and turned right on the main road to Earby where I contented myself with a large chocolate bar from the filling station.
Just before the village of Salterforth – half a mile or so, I turned right down a snicket onto the tow path and then followed the canal as it meandered under stone bridges, past brightly coloured barges moored for the winter. The tow path was busy with cyclists and bounding cockapoos and their walkers and many smiles and greetings were exchanged as I strode along with my walking poles and gaitors and muddy boots, I looked like I was dressed for the Alps and they must have been wondering where on earth I’d been.
I stopped at Café Cargo, by now desperate for cake but no – even here, there was not a gluten free offering in sight other than a bought-in and decidedly uninspiring finger of fruit cake. Somebody in Pendle needs to open a gluten free café!!
Up through the village to the main road and back to the school, where I retraced my steps over the fields and past the reservoir, the sun now low in a dove grey sky. The Canada geese floated on the silken surface, feathers lit by the pink glow of the approaching dusk. The outlines of the houses and trees on Castle row were dark against the sunset. I stood for a long while, knees aching a bit from long miles and two still to go, but thankful for this beautiful landscape on my doorstep and for my wonderful Dad who taught me to appreciate the freedom of walking.
Back past the pub, back down the tram-tracks, back up the hill where I used to live, back along the track to Trawden, back to my lovely cottage and a hot bath.
What a day, what memories I’d recalled and what lovely new memories I’d made.
A long walk but a good one for winter when the fields are soggy as much of it is on lanes and bridleways.
Nice and varied, hills, fields, lanes and the canal, with an optional detour into Barnoldswick with its interesting little alley ways, independent shops and cafes.
11 miles – allow 5 hours plus however long you spend in those shops and cafes!
Parking - I walked from my home, so you would need to park near the Trawden Arms in Trawden BB8 8RU – a good place to eat on your return.
After a week of heavy rain and unpleasant journeys on the motorways in the wet and dark, I was going a bit stir crazy, so when the sun shone on Sunday morning, I got the house tidy and the washing in and made my sandwiches and customary flask of milky coffee at record speed. ‘Should have left it’, I can hear some of you saying, but I like walking back in and not having to set to!
As I set off from home, the day was so clear I could see Ingleborough far in the distance from the top of the village. Seeing the table top flatness against the skyline brings back so many good memories of walks in the Dales over the past few years. Dropping down into the centre of the village by the Trawden Arms and turning right up Rock Lane, I had a little peek into the sparkly Christmas displays of the gift shop and saw lots of things I would like but don’t need! Opposite was a gift of nature anyway and these are always free. But this one was a little confusing. A cherry blossom tree in bloom, like the one I saw in Langcliffe 2 weeks ago. What is going on? Nature is as confused about the seasons as Parliament seems to be about Brexit! At the top of the hill, I took a left at a bend in the road, this old track leads to the top of Winewall, and as the track ends and you bear left down the steep road, there’s my old house on the right, 29 Winewall Lane and I can almost hear my teenagers thundering down the stairs as I shout “tea’s ready”. Ah – fond memories from years ago! Looking across to Pendle on my left, cloud floated across its flanks from half way up so the familiar ridge was hidden from view, but the views across to Colne with the Town Hall clock and the Church were wonderful and familiar – these were the views from my lounge window for 10 years!
At the bottom of Winewall I turned right onto the main road for about 20 yards and then joined the old tram tracks off to the right, this is a shortcut up to Standroyd Road which leads you up to Keighley Road. Crossing Keighley Road, I followed the roundabout across to the Morris Dancers pub (one of the first pubs I ever went in – ah those memories again!) and then I took a right up Venables Avenue and walked up past Park High School remembering all the years I dropped my kids off at school there. Right – enough of memories, I’m supposed to be living in the moment here! Past the school and left onto Castle Road and the views of Foulridge Upper and Lower Reservoirs and the hills of the Yorkshire Dales opened up. What a glorious place I live in. As the road dips there’s a lane on the right leading down to the reservoirs and I followed this, stopping to watch a large flock of Canada Geese sunning themselves on the banks of the very full reservoir. Nice to see it so full after it has been almost empty since July! As I watched the geese, 2 late arrivals were honking their way across the sky and they glided in, landing right in the middle of the group. After crossing the lane which bisects the reservoir, I followed a yellow arrow on my left, climbing over a stile into a very wet field and heading towards Broach Flat farm. Through a kissing gate, boots slithering on the mud I followed the left field edge and inched my way over very slippy duck boards. 45 degrees right now and I was at Foulridge Primary school, all quiet on a Saturday. “What lucky children,” I thought, “playing out in these grounds with these amazing views up to Noyna Rocks.” They probably don’t give it a thought – I know I didn’t at age 7 when I was lucky enough to attend Gisburn School.
Following the school driveway down to the main road I turned right and crossed the road after 20 metres or so, looking out for the footpath on the left that skirts Foulridge Lower Reservoir. The sun was shining brightly now and it was off with my hat and gloves and time for a drink of coffee on a well positioned bench.
In contrast to the noisy Canada Geese at the top reservoir, here 2 doves landed silently on the tree right next to my bench. All quiet now for a couple of minutes and then the sound of the pad pad of a runner’s feet as he ran past me, his panting breath disturbing the doves who flew off, their wings beating in unison.
Never mind, many miles to go, so I needed to press on. At the boat club I left the reservoir and crossed the little tarmacked lane onto the farm track opposite, there’s a yellow footpath sign on the entrance. As I passed old farmhouses, a robin hopped on a moss-topped wall, sun sparkled through bare branches and water rushed and gurgled past twisted tree trunks and ivy covered roots. Ditches that for so long had been dry, were now alive with bubbling, babbling water gushing into a hidden tunnel under the lane.
Past Holly Bush farm and the track ended without any apparent footpath. A gate on the right led into a field and a chestnut pony with a white blaze approached me. “Hello” I said, “Is there a footpath in your field?” But the pony was not amused and ears pressed back, he blew his nostrils and turned tail, flinging mud up in his wake.
‘Oh well’, I thought, ‘I’ll consult my map.’ However, when I extracted this from my day sack, I found I had brought ‘Hedben Bridge and the South Pennines’ which wasn’t much use when I was near Colne! That’ll teach me to put my glasses on instead of thinking I recognise the picture on the front of the map!
Gut instinct told me this field was where I should be and that I should be heading leftish! Sure enough leftish it was and there was a little gate with a welcome yellow arrow. Straight up this field and I was at Whitemoor Riding Stables where for many years I sat and watched Katie trot round the indoor arena, (on a horse naturally!). Now another horse stood in my way, a very big one with feet the size of dinner plates. “You’re not on the path!” bellowed the woman who owns the stables, “And watch that fence, it’s electric!” ‘Oh great,’ I thought, ‘either get trampled or get electrocuted!’ “Just walk past him, he’s fine,” she said. That’s 18 hands of ‘fine’ to you and me. So if you do this walk make sure you stay in the field and don’t go through a gate onto a little lane like I did!
Moving swiftly through the yard (!) I turned left onto the road for about 100 metres and then onto the Gisburn track. It’s a tough little climb here but I left a much younger guy way behind me as I marched on to Weets House Farm where the views of the Ribble Valley and the Longridge fells were laid out in all their splendor. On the way, several alpacas grazed in a field and a baby one was sporting a blue coat – super cute! At the gate just past the farmhouse, I turned right onto the Pendle Way and now I was on the moors proper, but it’s a good track so no getting lost here. The wind was icy though, blowing right up the Ribble Valley, so hat and gloves back on.
I love Weets Hill, the sky was blue and the profile of the trig point set against the horizon made it look like a little white chimney puffing smoke across the moors! Time for lunch now, so I settled down behind a wall off to the right and realised that I was looking 8 miles across to my usual picnic spot on the top of Boulsworth Hill!
As I was munching my ham and tomato sandwich, 2 teenage boys cycled towards me grumbling good-naturedly about how many bogs they’d got stuck in, how wet they were and how one of them had just cut his leg on his pedal. “Sounds horrendous, your bike ride,” I laughed. “No, it’s great fun”, they said, “We’re coming up on Christmas day, come rain or shine!” I’ll stick to my walking I think!
An icy wind blew me all the way down Folly Lane into Barnoldswick and here I had a choice. At the main road, I could turn right and walk about a mile to the road down to Salterforth on the left from where I would pick up the canal-side path back to Foulridge village. Or – I could go left into Barnoldswick and look for tea and cakes. Tea and cakes won, thereby adding 2 miles to my walk and to add insult to injury, there wasn’t a gluten free cake to be had anywhere in Barnoldswick, oh dear. My exact words were not ‘oh dear’ but modesty forbids me from typing them! I walked through the town centre and turned right on the main road to Earby where I contented myself with a large chocolate bar from the filling station.
Just before the village of Salterforth – half a mile or so, I turned right down a snicket onto the tow path and then followed the canal as it meandered under stone bridges, past brightly coloured barges moored for the winter. The tow path was busy with cyclists and bounding cockapoos and their walkers and many smiles and greetings were exchanged as I strode along with my walking poles and gaitors and muddy boots, I looked like I was dressed for the Alps and they must have been wondering where on earth I’d been.
I stopped at Café Cargo, by now desperate for cake but no – even here, there was not a gluten free offering in sight other than a bought-in and decidedly uninspiring finger of fruit cake. Somebody in Pendle needs to open a gluten free café!!
Up through the village to the main road and back to the school, where I retraced my steps over the fields and past the reservoir, the sun now low in a dove grey sky. The Canada geese floated on the silken surface, feathers lit by the pink glow of the approaching dusk. The outlines of the houses and trees on Castle row were dark against the sunset. I stood for a long while, knees aching a bit from long miles and two still to go, but thankful for this beautiful landscape on my doorstep and for my wonderful Dad who taught me to appreciate the freedom of walking.
Back past the pub, back down the tram-tracks, back up the hill where I used to live, back along the track to Trawden, back to my lovely cottage and a hot bath.
What a day, what memories I’d recalled and what lovely new memories I’d made.