Summary

Summits Achieved

Preface

"Brrr", isn't it cold", said Allen.

"It certainly is, and the longest cold spell I can ever remember", replied Tetley.

"Still there is no snow, so perhaps Dad will take us for a walk on Sunday to get our 2010 account underway", chipped in Grizzly.

"Shall I go and find out?", asked Allen

"No need", replied Grizzly, "that is what Shaun is doing now."

"Here he comes", called out Tetley, who was looking towards the door.

In trotted Shaun, with Little Eric riding on his back.

"Well?" enquired Allen excitedly.

"A walk is on, going up the Lune Valley from Devil's Bridge. It is 12 miles so we will get a good start to 2010, and there will be good views too. And before you say it, Allen, yes we have done it before, but there is no harm in repeating nice walks."

"I'm fine with that", replied Allen, "and also Little Eric has not done it."

"I'm really looking forward to going" said Little Eric, giving a cheer too.

The Walk

It was a frosty morning, as we dashed out to the car. Dad completed putting his gear in the boot, then said his goodbye to Uncle Brian, and we set off up the Lune Valley. Everywhere was frosty, and we noted that the temperature when we arrived at the start was minus 4C. It was however to be a superb day with clear blue skies and hardly any wind, although the temperatures barely got above freezing all day. We parked on the approach to Devils Bridge, an impressive three arched bridge spanning the River Lune, dating from around 1370 and constructed of well masoned gritstone. It no longer carries traffic, this being catered for by a more modern bridge just a very short distance south. Both bridges can be seen in this shot.

In common with many bridges of the same name, legend holds that the Devil appeared to an old woman, promising to build a bridge in exchange for the first soul to cross over it. When the bridge was finished the woman threw bread over the bridge and her dog chased after it, thereby outwitting the Devil. Several large stones in the surrounding area, including the Great Stone of Fourstones are ascribed to the Devil's purse-strings bursting open as he ferried masonry to build it.

This picture was taken in November 2005, on a walk with Uncle Eric. The stone lies on an otherwise featureless moor, above the town of Bentham. As can be seen it is huge measuring about 30 feet round and 12 feet high, with steps cut into it, which we scampered up so we could sit on the top. There were once three other stones next to this one (hence it's name), but they were apparently broken up for sharpening scythes about two hundred years ago.

Right, back to todays' adventure. The path by the river was followed passing below the town of Kirkby Lonsdale. Suddenly a beautiful sweep of the river opened before us crying out to be photographed, so Dad obliged.

Just then a gentleman came by, and seeing Dad wth his camera enquired what model it was. His name was Barry Healas, and he is very interested in photography, as well as being very passionate about Gaff-Rigg Sailing. Quite a few minutes chat then ensued, about photography and Dad was very pleased to have met him. Now both Barry and Dad were faced wth climbing the so called Radical Steps that lead to the church and town. (70 odd steps and steep).

At the top, walking just a few yards left we were able to see the impressive St Mary's Church across the snow covered graveyard. The early morning winter sun is warming the stone of the east end and tower.

Returning along the path and just beyond the top of the steps is the magnificent view of the sweeping bend of the river backed by the snow covered hills.

This is known as Ruskin's View because of a comment John Ruskin made after seeing J. M. W.Turner's painting of the scene. He said, "The Valley of the Lune at Kirkby Lonsdale is one of the loveliest scenes in England. . ."

By now about an hour had passed, but as you can see there had been plenty of picture stops, as well as Dad's chat to Barry. So we suggested to Dad that if we were going to finish this adventure today, we had better get a move on.

Dad replied, "yes, you are right", as he headed determinedly along the path that took us into Underley Park.

Crossing a small stream, the path turned left to a gate, then on to the left of the farm and to the road. Here it was right, and then soon right again along the rather narrow road that leads to Mansergh, Rigmaden & Killington. Like all the narrow side roads we were to walk along today, it was still beset with snow and ice, there just being two tracks where the tyres of vehicles had cleared it. This provided mostly a good surface to walk upon - when there were no vehicles coming along that is, which was most of the time. The uncleared sections were solid ice at least two inches thick. As we walked along, to the right the view was wonderful of the fells, white under their blanket of snow.

"Is that Middleton Fell?", asked Little Eric.

"Yes", replied Allen knowledgeably. "We all climbed it in May 2008, in the company of Uncle Bob."

"That was the day we thought we were going to get caught in that wicked thunderstorm, but thankfully it went away to the east of where we were walking", said Shaun.

"It looks superb today, so take a picture please", implored Tetley.

At Mansergh Hall Farm, the road bends right, but we kept ahead on a deeply frozen snow covered track that climbed up between hedges. The low winter sun gives a long shadow of Dad lining up the shot.

Presently Grizzly said, "that wood over there looks familiar. If I remember rightly it will be carpeted with bluebells in spring"

"You're right", replied Dad. "I took a picture when we did this walk in May 2004. It looked magnificent."

In an adjacent field were some Highland Cattle. This one made us think about our hug pal Hamish. They were well catered for with hay, in a feeder just out of shot to the right.

After a gate we entered pasture, and reached on the right St Peter's Church, Mansergh. It was built in 1880, replacing an original chapel on the site. The unusual tower at the west end has a saddleback roof which is topped by a handsome weather cock.

A lane by the church led down to the road, where we walked right. At a sharp corner another hedged track was followed ahead, climbing steadily to come to Mansergh High Farm. Soon after, a gate gave acesss to pastures again. From here there was another fine winter's view across the Lune Valley to Middleton Fell.

At the next gate the waymark directed us right along the edge of the pasture and then down to a gate. Then on, passing the long deserted farm of Woodside, and through Hag Wood. The leafless trees and bare ground under them, belied what a wonderful display of bluebells and wild garlic, would delight the eye in spring, seen here in Dad's shot from May 2004.

Exiting the wood through a gate, the path led over a another wide pasture to the road at Rigmaden. Above this stands the impressive buildings of Rigmaden Park, built in the early 19th century for Christopher Wilson of Kendal. Long before we were born, Dad recalls when doing this walk in August 1990, that this building had suffered a terrible fire, and was totally burnt out.

We strolled the road past Rigmaden Park, then at a junction, we went right to wind round past buildings that have been converted to residential use. They were formerly Rigmaden Saw Mill. Then passing Rigmaden Farm the road descended through trees with a pretty beck running alongside, to bend left and come to Rigmaden Bridge spanning the River Lune. The river was very still, and dazzlingly blue in the winter sunshine.

Soon the main road was reached, and crossed directly to a stile opposite, to then cross three pastures to a minor road. At the third stile we stopped just a few minutes for a bite to eat, also posing on the stile for our picture. Well now, you didn't think you were going to get away without us making an appearance!

At the road we walked right passing Apple Garth Farm, and at the next junction forked right on Betweengates Lane. This is very narrow, so it was fortuitous that Dad had stopped at the junction to ring Uncle Brian, as otherwise he would have met a large farm tractor with little or no room to pass. The lane led to the main road, which we crossed. Then just a few yards along, we went right along the access track to pass Treason Field Farm. Beyond this we followed the hedged track, called High Beckfoot Lane, for about a mile to Beckfoot Farm. Near the start a deep stream crosses the track. This reinforced raised path by the hedge and bridge allows the obstacle to be overcome.

At Beckfoot Farm we joined the road that winds round to a signed path on the right. This crosses fields and climbs to come beside some trees. Just to the left stands the very modest Gildard Hill. This was not on the walk, but Little Eric had not visited the summit before, so we did not need a second asking for Dad to take us there again. A tree stump provided a grand place to sit for our picture.

Then down to the woods, where beyond a gate a path led through them, to then cross a field into more woodland. Here we strolled along a track that led to Casterton Hall, where the path is diverted around to the left of the buildings. Now finally a section across rough pasture brought us to the road, and it was just a few hundred yards then to Devil's Bridge. Despite having done this walk before, we had nevertheless had a super today, especially seeing the majestic views of the snow covered hills.

After changing, Dad then drove to the village of Barbon, going to Mr Williamson's to stock up on supplies of chutney and marmalade. Then in the warm car he drove us home, stopping in the village of Hornby, to have tea and cake in the cafe at the Post Office. There was plenty of tea, and quite a large piece of chocolate cake. Dad told us that the cake was not bad, but not up to the standard to Eileen's cakes.

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