Another Sunday, so we were up early
as Dad had arranged to walk in Yorkshire with Uncle Bob. Our
meeting place was the pretty village of Muker in Swaledale.
Normally to get there we would have travelled the very familiar
road to Hawes. Not possible this week as it was closed at
Ribblehead for work on the bridge carrying the railway line over
it. Instead we travelled up the M6 to Tebay then along to Kirkby
Stephen. For a long stretch this road is level and Dad told us
that once this had been a railway. The old road was very narrow
so when the railway closed it made sense to use the old trackbed
for a new road. As we drove along Dad pointed out buildings that
had been Gaisgill and Ravenstonedale stations. Interestingly
although called Ravenstonedale the station was actually situated
on the outskirts of the village of Newbiggin on Lune.
The two photographs show the
station in 1905 and now.
Once at Kirkby Stephen we left the
main road coming to the village of Nateby, where we turned left
to climb up on to Nateby Common and then over Birkdale Common. On
this narrow winding and lonely road we did not pass another car -
not a place to breakdown, especially in the dark. At Keld the
road skirted below a hill. This was Kisdon Hill and our objective
today.
Uncle Bob had arrived just a few
minutes before us, and we said our good mornings. We jumped into
Dads rucksack and soon we were off along the street.
Passing the Craft Gallery we suddenly noticed something odd on
the roof!
Shaun was secured in the rucksack
so could not go chasing up there. Just as well as we
couldn't climb up to get him down!
This building with the odd
architecture is the Literary Institute and our route was beside
it along the signed cul-de-sac.
Soon we were on open country along
a track that we had walked before that led to the Pennine Way.
Here we paused to take in the views behind, like this to the
Buttertubs Pass with Kisdon Farm in the foreground.
On the previous walk we had then
taken the Pennine Way, but today we ignored this instead climbing
by a wall, on a track that runs below Kisdon Hill to Keld. It is
actually an ancient trackway known as the Corpse Way. For many
hundreds of years the only consecrated ground was at Grinton
further down the Dale, and tradition has it that the dead were
carried in wicker coffins for burial there. The paths used thus
became known as the Corpse Way.
After a gate we left the track to
head due north over rough ground towards the summit of Kisdon
Hill. It was quite a gentle climb and we soon came to a
substantial dry stone wall that barred our way to the summit.
This however presented no problems to Uncle Bob and Dad and we
were soon on the other side and it was just a few yards to the
highest point, where of course we had our photograph taken.
Just a few yards away stood a
substantial cairn. We were surprised that it had not actually
been built at the highest point.
Some of the top stones had fallen,
so Uncle Bob carried out some repairs.
He then posed after completing his
handy work.
Taking a bearing (no pun intended!),
we came to a wall corner where we again climbed over and followed
along by the wall on our descent. As we looked across the valley
we could see the sad remains of the 17th century
farmhouse Crackpot Hall on the hillside. On a previous walk we
had come along the path by these ruins.
Soon we were nearly down to the
valley and these inquisitive Swaledale sheep posed for us,
before we came to Kisdon Force a
delightful waterfall that empties itself into the River Swale.
Uncle Bob who is a quite expert
photographer decided to get his tripod out to put his camera on
to get his picture. It took quite a while and we were getting
hungry, so we gathered round and Allen got the sandwiches out of
his rucksack for our picnic.
Kisdon force has an upper fall too
and again we sat patiently while Uncle Bob used his tripod again
to get his photo. Dad took this one.
It had been a nice and restful time
here but now we set off along the valley on our return to Muker.
The views were beautiful especially looking back. This was taken
from below Crackpot Hall and shows Beldi Hill behind the old barn.
Uncle Bob snapped Dad on the
remains of this old tractor. Quite environmentally friendly we
thought too, but glad we did not have to travel home on it!
Photo
courtesy Uncle Bob
After walking on for a while the
path descended to cross the stream coming down the steep Swinner
Gill, which we had descended last year as we returned from a walk
to the desolate and boggy tops of Water Crag and Rogans
Seat. The upper parts of this gill were once the scene of
extensive lead mining. At its base the stream drops over this
fall.
Uncle Bob and Dad had their picnic
here while we sat and enjoyed the wonderful scenery. Continuing
along we had superb views up the valley.
To the left on the hillside stands
the ruin of Crackpot Hall. Now, we must tell you about an amusing
incident, which had us all in fits of laughter. The day was windy
and you may have noticed in an earlier picture that Dad was
wearing his smart green cap (well anything is better than that
silly blue and yellow bobble hat). Suddenly a gust of wind took
Dads hat off his head and down the steep bank by the river.
Fortunately it didn't go into the water. We were dumped by
the path as Dad scrambled down the precarious banking slipping
and sliding on the loose soil and rocks.
Photo
courtesy Uncle Bob
Nevertheless he was successful!
Photo
courtesy Uncle Bob
To prevent another incident he put
it in his pocket for the rest of the walk. Soon we had crossed
the river and all that remained was to walk along the flagstones
across a number of pastures to reach Muker.
No prizes for guessing what
happened next. Yes, we hopped out and settled in the car to have
another picnic, while Uncle Bob and Dad went to the tearoom by
the village store.
Here they had a warming pot of tea
and scones with butter and jam.
Well another adventure was over and
another Yorkshire Dales summit ticked off too. We had
learnt yet more interesting things to remember and tell our
friends at home. Goodbyes were said and then Dad drove us home
over that wild narrow lonely road to Kirkby Stephen, then to
Tebay and down the M6 motorway.