Report by Paul Coates pictures by Keith

Thursday 10th September 2009

Lordstone Cafe (Raisdale), Bilsdale West Moor, Brian's Pond, Barker's Craggs, Scugdale Hall, Raikes Farm, Lane, Harfa Bank Farm, Scugdale Beck, Huthwaite Green, Millfield House, Swainby (Black Horse), Lane, Castle, Whorl Hill Farm, Whorl Hill Wood, High Farm, Bank Lane, Faceby Plantation, Gold Hill, Carlton Bank, Glider Station, Lordstone Cafe (10.5 miles).

Sunny & warm

Paul, John, Col, Paul Craggs, Keith, Paul 'Sherlock' Holmes, Ray, Dudley, Jack, Bob, Laurie.

Paul, Bob, Keith

The view from Barker's Craggs

Another long drive out today, and even after a quick 'comfort' stop in Helmsley, we were still at our start point in the car park at Lordstone Cafe just after 9 o'clock. The freshly retired Laurie had driven down from Barnard Castle to meet us. Glaxo's loss is our gain and hopefully we will get to see more of him on some of our future treks up onto the moors.

We had intended to pay a visit to the Buck Inn at Chop Gate this lunchtime, a long established FAC watering hole, but we'd discovered that it currently doesn't open on Thursday lunchtimes so alternative arrangements had to be made. So it was decided we'd head for the bright lights of Swainby instead.

Heather on the rocks

With hardly a cloud in the sky it promised to be a nice sunny day. When we arrived at the car park Keith emerged from his car sporting a nifty pair of shorts and was immediately christened 'Mr. Mainwaring' by Jack.

Paul was seen strutting around modeling his nearly new rucksack. He was complaining to Sherlock that he hadn't supplied a map with the rucksack claiming he'd packed his stuff away in the multitude of storage places and then had not been able to find them again afterwards.

Paul Craggs was also showing off his new walking stick bought for him by his good lady. We did speculate as to how she'd get to work now after having doctored her mode of travel by cutting off the bristles at the end, but Craggsy claimed she's got a bus pass so she doesn't need the broom anymore.

Without more ado it was soon onward and upward towards Bilsdale West Moor. As we reached the top of the incline we passed the large rock where Dennis had sat just over two years ago having his photo taken on what turned out to be his last walk with us.

We crossed the moor towards Barker's Craggs on a decent path surrounded by bracken and the last of the purple flowering heather. Barker's Craggs is always a good place to stop for grub as it has great views up onto the surrounding moors and into the valley below.

It's up there somewhere!!

The track between Raikes Farm and Harfa Bank Farm had a few muddy stretches and it was on one particularly deep and sloppy section that Bob lost his balance and went full length into the mire. Looking like a reject from the Black & White Minstrels each arm was bathed in mud up to his elbows and his once blue trousers looked like they could have been sponsored by Cadbury's. He was not a happy bunny. There was much mirth and merriment at Bob's mishap. Some unkind soul even suggested that he'd have to sit outside the pub as the smell and the flies would surely invoke an immediate ban from licensed premises.

A combination of events, a field full of cows and calves, Bob fruitlessly looking for something at the farm to clean off the mud (did someone mention dipping?), Paul claiming that this short stretch of our route was off the edge of the OS map, SatNav Keith thinking we were following a footpath when we should have been looking for the farm track, all amounted to us going a bit astray at Harfa Bank Farm. The cows and calves gave us the most concern as it's never a good idea to get between them. So we walked round the edge of the field keeping our distance from the wary cattle whilst failing to notice the farm track we should have taken.

After realising our mistake, but not wishing to disturb the by now anxious and restless herd, we decided to follow the path to Huthwaite Green and onwards into Swainby. As we crossed a footbridge at Scugdale Beck Bob decided this was the ideal place to get himself cleaned up after his involuntary mudbath. After a quick scrub he was as good as new, if a little damp, but he soon dried off in the warm sunshine.

On our first visit to Swainby in July last year we gave the Blacksmiths Arms the pleasure of our company. This time we tried out the Black Horse. It's a rare event these days to have the choice of more than one pub in a village. We were soon sat around a large wooden table occupied in the traditional FAC pub pastimes of drinking, plotting and exchanging money (with or without menaces).

Keith had been suffering somewhat with his dodgy knee. He'd already taken some painkillers to no affect while Col had offered him the use of an elastic bandage. Keith decided to give it a go whilst ignoring advice from less than well meaning colleagues that it should be placed around the neck for best effect.

Once out of the pub and into the sunshine it was a steady climb up to Whorl Hill. There were fine views to the north across the patchwork of fields over to the distant Teeside and the even more distant Mickle Fell (thanks to Laurie for pointing that one out).

When we emerged from Whorl Hill Wood we passed by High Farm where we spied a woman stood outside in the sunshine doing the ironing. We did enquire as to the possibility of her ironing Bob's trousers, although we quickly added that it wasn't compulsory for him to remove them first. She mentioned something about getting the wrinkles out but we were unsure if she was referring to Bob's trousers or Bob himself!!

All this hilarity quickly evaporated as we were faced with the steep climb up through the forest at Faceby Plantation. However Keith appeared to be turbo powered as he raced up the hill clearly enjoying the benefits of knee support. We decided to stop for some sustenance at the top of this wooded incline before we embarked on the next stage, still upwards but with the added attraction of dense bracken.

Last time we took this route the bracken was over our heads and wet. This time it wasn't as bad as the bracken was beginning to die back plus it was dry. However it's remains an 'interesting' route out and up onto the open moor. At the trig point above Carlton Bank we came upon some paracenders waiting in vain for a gust of wind to take them over the edge and into the air. There was hardly a breath of wind to be had so we left them looking rather forlornly up at the sky at what might have been.

After the trig point the track went steeply downwards paved with uneven stone slabs so beloved of Keith's rickety knees. He might be good going uphill but he's rubbish coming down. He whimpered and winced a bit on the way down and we did try to be sympathetic but it's not easy when you're laughing. All good things come to an end though and we were soon back at the car park getting ready for the off.

Craggsy In the bracken

We said our goodbyes to Laurie before he set off homeward. He won't be with us for awhile as he's jetting off to Australia for a few weeks. We can't understand why when he could have been out with us on the hills instead....................!!