Grizzly & Tetley, were sitting quietly
reading, when their reverie was disturbed by the whirlwind of
Allen hurtling into the room.
"More than two weeks of the year has
passed, and at last we are to have a walk with Uncle Eric for
company. I heard Dad on the phone and the walk is set for
Wednesday."
"Where are we going too?", asked Tetley.
"Well I think you will be especially
happy, as we are to do one of Uncle Eric's stock of Yorkshire
walks, starting from Clapham and doing a round via Austwick."
"Great", replied Tetley. "We
have walked in this area before but I never tire of the scenery."
"Neither do I", added Grizzly.
"Where's Shaun?", asked Allen.
"He and Little Eric are making up a
flask of tea and getting the tuck tin", replied Grizzly.
"I hope they are not too long as I am
gasping for a mug of tea", cried Allen.
"Same as always, pal", laughed Tetley. Such a tea belly just like Dad."
Just then Shaun trotted in with Little Eric.
While the tea was poured and biscuits selected from the tuck tin,
Allen told them where we were to walk.
"I know you have walked this before,
but it will be new ground for me", called out Little Eric
excitedly.
The Walk
Wednesday dawned and we were up
quite early to get the picnic ready and stowed safely in Allen's
rucksack. Then as we heard Dad slam the boot of the car shut, we
ran out to settle in the car, calling out, "goodbye Uncle Brian, enjoy your quiet day."
"Have a nice day and take care", replied Uncle Brian
Our route was along the beautiful
Lune valley, then via Bentham to Clapham, meeting Uncle Eric at
the large car park. Today it was nearly empty, but in the summer
and at weekends in particular, it is often full, as there are
many opportunities for walks from here, including one of the
routes to Ingleborough, passing Ingleborough Cave, itself a very popular attraction, where
stalactites and stalagmites etc can be viewed.
Clapham itself is one of the
prettiest of Yorkshire Dales' villages, the typical stone houses,
clustering along the Clapham Beck. It owes much of its character
to the Farrer family of Ingleborough Hall. Victorian landowners,
they fashioned their classical mansion from a farm and planted
trees that now grace the beck side and clothe lower Clapdale in
woodland. In 1833 the Farrers dammed the beck to create
Ingleborough Lake, as a source of drinking water, and via a
turbine, power for street lights and a handful of homes in
addition to the hall. This was curiously apt, since electricity
pioneer Michael Faraday (1791-1867) was born in Clapham.
We were to enjoy a dry day with
sunshine, but at times the mist spoiled the views.
All ready, we settled in Dad's
rucksack, and off we went strolling through the village passing
the parish church of St James, with its rather squat but very
sturdy tower. Grizzly said, "the earliest known reference to a church here in
Clapham, no doubt a wooden building, is 1160. This and the rest
of the village was burned during a Scottish raid following the
Battle of Bannockburn in the early 14th century. The fine
perpendicular tower is 14th century, the rest of the building
dating from the 19th century."
Then crossing Clapham Beck, we had
this fine view of Clapham Falls. Reading from the information panel, Tetley said, "they were constructed in 1837 by
Oliver and James William Farrer, as part of the remodelling of
the land around Ingleborough Hall. Fed from Ingleborough Lake,
they consist of three separate tiers, of which only one is
visible from the village."
Near the end of the village, Shaun advised, "we go right here onto the bridleway. As the signpost indicates this is the start of the route to Ingleborough."
The track climbed gently with woodland to
the right for much of the time. We were heading for Clapdale Farm,
a substantial building that loomed out of the mist. Passing by
this, the path went right quite steeply down to surfaced Clapdale Drive in
the Ingleborough Hall Estate.
"We turn right", said Shaun. "Then the plan is to follow the drive through the estate, passing the lake, and to its
junction with Thwaite Lane."
However the sign by the taped up gate
rather alarmed us.
We met a gentleman who had walked
through. He said, "I have heard nothing."
"Best not to risk it, and anyway I haven't got my shooting stick with me", joked Uncle Eric.
"Whatever are we going to do
now?", said Little Eric, rather disconsolately
"Never fear", said Shaun
who was consulting the map. "If we take the bridge over
Clapham Beck and then climb up to Long Lane, we can then follow
this to its junction with Thwaite Lane and so get back on track."
"What would we do without you",
replied Little Eric, sounding much relieved.
The beck was rushing down and made
a nice picture.
As we neared the top of the slope,
the farmer had arrived to give his sheep some fodder. They were
all bunched up, but as the farmer spread the feed in a long line,
so the flock were strung out too.
"Huh", grunted Allen. "There goes my sheep picture free story, but I have to admit it is a rather
unusual shot."
We strolled on pausing after a
little while to look back across the valley to where we had
walked. Clapdale Farm loomed out of the constantly shifting mist,
looking rather ethereal. Sadly the mist was to persist nearly all
the way to Austwick, which was a shame as it hid the imposing
views of the scars to the left.
Walking on, we heard bangs
away to the right.
"That's gun fire", called
out Tetley.
"Just as well we heeded the
warning", said Allen seriously.
So eventually we reached the
junction with Thwaite Lane. Here we turned left to follow this
below the scars that were sadly lost in the mist, to a little way
beyond Long Tram Plantation. Had the day been clear, as it was in
February 2008, when we walked along here with Uncle Bob, then
this is the view we would have had, of Robin Proctor's Scar with
the fell Norber rising behind.
As we strolled along, suddenly
Grizzly called out, "what's that on the verge?"
"A fungi of some sort",
Uncle Eric replied. "A fine example too, and worth a
photograph."
"We need to look out for a
stile on the right over the wall", said Shaun, who was
scrutinising the map again.
"OK", replied Allen.
"I will keep my eyes peeled."
We had walked just a few hundred
yards further, when Allen called out, "there it is."
The stile was climbed, and the
ongoing path followed over the fields crossing more stiles, and
to a gate onto the narrow road that leads down to the village of
Austwick.
"It looks somewhat unusual
with the tall stone gatepost with stone lintel to the other side",
said Shaun.
"To me the gate seems to be
more recent", replied Tetley. "I wonder if it replaced
a previous tall wooden door?"
"You could be right pal",
agreed Shaun.
Turning right the road was followed
into the Dales village of Austwick. There are dwelling houses
from different centuries right up to the present century, with
many still remaining from earlier times; several dating from the
16th century. Here are some of the houses and the Gamecock Inn.
Strolling on we soon came to the
cross in the centre of the village where all the roads meet.
Tetley said, "the signpost still refers to the
old 'Ridings' that Yorkshire was once divided into. Austwick was
in the West Riding. It also helpfully shows the OS grid reference."
"Our route is right along the road signed Clapham", instructed Shaun.
Just a little further on,
we came to the substantial stone and glazed bus shelter.
"Good place for lunch as we
will be sheltered from the cold breeze", said Uncle Eric.
"Absolutely", said Allen,
who with the rest of us leapt out of the rucksack as soon as Dad
had taken it off.
"Get the sandwiches out",
called out Grizzly,
"OK pal", replied Allen,
slipping his rucksack off.
It was pleasant here out of the wind, and we enjoyed the break, having our sandwiches and cakes washed down with warming mugs of tea.
Then, before setting off once more, we posed on the seat while Dad took our picture. Well, we have to appear at least once in every story.
Refreshed, we settled back in Dad's
rucksack, then proceeded on.
Checking the map, Shaun said,
"we will shortly come to a path on the right, which we need
to take and follow all the way to Clapham."
Sure enough the sign came into view
and we passed through the gate beside it. The sign read 'Clapham
2m'. Beyond the path climbed over the grassy pasture to a stile,
then on over another, to then pass a seat and round the remains
of a small circular plantation. Then, the clear way led across
more fields, the many walls surmounted by stepped gated gap
stiles, like the one below.
In sight of Clapham village, we
arrived at a gate, where the approach was just bog.
"Oh dear", sighed Dad, "my boots have been clean and quite pristine up to now, but that is not going to be the case after we
have negotiated our way through this gate."
The way now led beside a fence, where there was a
nice shot back to the trees surrounding the boggy area and gate. Beyond
is the path we had walked by the fence from the stile in the
distant wall.
After another gate we joined a farm
track, from which via a side gate the path brought us directly
into the car park.
"Hmm", said Allen, "the sign at this end reads 'Austwick 1.5m'. Mysteriously we have lost
half a mile somewhere."
So, a good walk over, Dad then
drove Uncle Eric to Feizor and Elaine's Tea Rooms. She was
surprised to see him, as he had only been there with Uncle Brian
on Monday.
She exclaimed, "what are you
doing here?"
Uncle Eric was introduced, and she
was pleased to meet him having heard about him in our stories.
Tea was enjoyed with a toasted teacake for Uncle Eric and
chocolate cake for Dad. We had been in before, indeed on the very
first visit by Dad with Uncle Bob. Barnaby, Lee, Grizedale &
Ginger, always come along to see Uncle Eric when we go walking
with him, so Dad took them in too, and they were introduced to
Elaine and the staff. As always Dad had a good time here and
Uncle Eric was very impressed too.
Dad then drove back to Clapham and
Uncle Eric's car.
"Thanks for a lovely walk, Uncle Eric", said Little Eric. "Great to have your company again."
"As it has been to have yours, Lads", he replied.
Goodbyes were said, for a few weeks, as
both Dad and Uncle Eric have lots of commitments.
