Marilyns Archives - James Stone (clach liath)

Completing the English Marilyns

30th October 2018 by James Stone Leave a Comment

After my Antipodean adventures, it was time to settle back into UK hillwalking. One of my longer term objectives is to climb 600 Marilyns. There are 1557 Marilyns in Great Britain. Of that number 175 are in England. So completing the English Marilyns seemed to be a reasonable objective as a starter.

Those familiar with the British hillwalking scene will know what a “Marilyn” is. They will also understand that “bagging” a Marilyn is not some sort of nefarious act.

A Marilyn is a peak in the British Isles that has a prominence of at least 150 metres. In other words, in order to reach any higher point from the top of your chosen peak, you have to drop at least 150 metres to reach that higher point. So in the British Isles, the highest Marilyn is Ben Nevis at 1344 metres. Its prominence is the same as its height because you would have to cross the sea to reach the nearest higher peak – Melderskin in Norway since you ask!

The lowest Marilyns are the high points of a couple of islands off the west coast of Scotland each at 154 metres in elevation.

And a final bit of trivia is that there are some well-known British hills that are not Marilyns, such as Cairngorm, Scafell, Yes Tor and Helm Crag. But you can still get some good views from them so don’t let that put you off!

By the beginning of 2018 I had 39 English Marilyns left to climb. These ranged from a couple up near the Scottish border and one in the Lake District to a multitude in the south of England and in the Welsh borders.

Shropshire

The seven remaining Marilyns in the Welsh Borders were tackled during one snowy long weekend at the end of March. There was so much snow that we were actually stuck there for an extra day, hemmed in by snow drifts. The western half of Shropshire is surprisingly hilly. It is not considered particularly as a hillwalking part of the country. There are a couple of better known hills there such as Stiperstones and Long Mynd. But, apart from them, generally we had the hills to ourselves.

Callow Hill and Flounder’s Folly built in 1838

The south east

Moving on to June, I attended a 40^th anniversary reunion of our University department that took place in Wimbledon. Whilst Julie and I had kept in touch with a few of our co-students, it was fun re-connecting with those who were able to attend and who I had not seen since collecting my degree. It was also an excuse for me to go down to Kent, Surrey and Sussex.

So over the next two days I visited the high point of Surrey, Leith Hill, with its tower:

Yes this non-descript street is a Marilyn!

By Cheriton Hill

And a summit in the middle of a golf course, amongst others.

It just goes to show how eclectic this pastime is. The mellow rolling hills of the south of England contrast starkly with the “proper” hills of the north of England. The southern hills are lower, more obviously touched by man, more accessible. But you only need to look carefully at the maps and you see barrows, standing stones, Roman roads and other remains, ancient field systems and Iron Age forts to get a feel for the history that surrounds you.

Although less challenging than much of the northern landscape, walking in these areas is not without interest.

The south west

Later the same month off the back of a business trip to Plymouth I had the opportunity to tackle some of the hills in Somerset, Devon and Cornwall far flung from home in the North. Here there is terrain on Dartmoor that almost matches some of the northern hills. But even Exmoor and Bodmin Moor have a more pastoral feel to them. Only on Dartmoor can you really get to places which feel a little remote with wide open heather clad spaces and bogs to match.

But it also gave me the opportunity to visit places I had not been to since my childhood – Minehead, Plymouth, St Michael’s Mount. It also highlighted the odd nature of Marilyn bagging – climbing through the scars of china clay mining, locating a summit in an 8m high hedge and standing on a summit looking at both the north and south coasts of Cornwall.

Christ's Cross — Trig in a hedge – Christ’s Cross, Devon

China Clay works at Hensbarrow Downs, Cornwall

Carn Galver tin mine from Watch Croft, Cornwall

Brown Willy, Cornwall – the highest point of Bodmin Moor (no sniggering at the back please]

High Willhays –the highest point on Dartmoor – from Yes Tor, Devon

The north

In July I tackled the final three Marilyns in the north. First there was Illgill Head in the west of the Lake District which has stunning views down over Wastwater. I climbed it on a rather cloudy day, a rare thing in our summer of 2018.

Instead of the usual route up Illgill Head from Wasdale, I climbed it from Boot in Eskdale where there is a car park at the rail terminus of the Ravenglass to Eskdale narrow gauge railway. This way provides a tougher but more interesting circuit than the usual one, including a chance to explore some stone circles near Boat How.

A few days later I went up to the Scottish border where two isolated hills, Peel Fell and Sighty Crag lie. These, particularly Sighty Crag, are infrequently visited. Sighty Crag must be one of the physically hardest Marilyns to reach, at least in England. Once an initial forest road is left, there are no tracks and it is ankle twisting territory with knee high grass, heather and bilberry whilst also looking to avoid the inevitable bogginess. I took what seemed to be an age to cross the 2km or so to the summit trig with a couple of false summits on the way.

On Peel Fell you can follow the England/Scotland border and have fun stepping in and out of each country. If ever Scotland becomes an independent nation I wonder how this border would be monitored.

Spectacular this countryside is not. But it is an area where you can easily lose yourself and where the terrain can be harsh and unforgiving. With our dry summer I had it lucky. In normal conditions you can expect sodden legs and feet. Perhaps the best time to climb them would be after snow and a big freeze to harden it up.

The end game

That then left a set of eight in Berkshire, Hampshire, Dorset, Wiltshire and the Isle of Wight. That’s it about this crazy game. It takes you to places you would otherwise probably never visit. The exception is East Anglia – it is so low and flat that you will find no Marilyns there!

So I had never been to the Isle of Wight. On this occasion I had persuaded Julie and Jet to join me – not that Jet normally requires much encouragement…!

Another long weekend at the beginning of August saw us drive down to the Isle of Wight to catch the ferry from Lymington climbing Walbury Hill in Berkshire on the way. That same evening we climbed Tennyson Down. Tennyson Down is not a Marilyn but proves the rule that you can have spectacular views from hills that miss out on the 150m of prominence. We took a packed tea up there and marvelled at the seascape along the south coast of the island whilst enjoying the balmy weather. This hill is named after the poet, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, who lived nearby for much of his life.

The following day was a mad dash around the island to find and climb the two Marilyns that the island had to offer – St Boniface Down and Brighstone Down – together with some other hills. As was the case with Tennyson Down, the other hills trumped the Marilyns for interest. St Boniface Down has a couple of contenders for the highest point, one being in the middle of a building site when we visited and the other in a patch of gorse and bracken. The top of Brighstone Down was in the middle of some woodland without a view. Much more pleasant were Bembridge Down with its fort, monument and views and St Catherine’s Hill with the remains of a 14^th century oratory.

St Catherine's Oratory, Isle of Wight — St Catherine’s Oratory, Isle of Wight

Having enjoyed our short stay on the Isle of Wight, we left for Dorset and Wiltshire where the final objectives lay. The next day saw us climb Nine Barrow Down which overlooks Poole and Swanage. As suggested by its name it hosts a string of ancient burial chambers. Nearby is the massive Corfe Castle, a significant feat of medieval engineering.

Then it was off to Hardown Hill, an oasis of heather and gorse between Bridport and Lyme Regis. I remember going to Lyme Regis when I was 6 or 7 and running from the beach as a plague of biting insects descended. This time it was the gorse that attacked us!

Finally on that day we did Lewesdon Hill and Pilsdon Pen. Lewesdon Hill is the highest hill in Dorset. Pilsdon Pen was once thought to be. Pilsdon Pen is by far the more interesting of the two. Lewesdon Hill is covered in trees so there is only a restricted view there. Pilsdon Pen hosts a substantial Iron Age hill fort and has more extensive views. It is just a short climb from the car park at its foot. The path passes through the two rings of ditches and embankments that mark the ancient fortifications and you pop out right by the summit trig. It is worthwhile walking across the level expanse of the hill top to the other side of the fortifications just to appreciate the size of the community that would have been supported there.

And so that left two to do on the following day. We were now in Wiltshire. First up was Win Green, a drive up topped by a large copse. The summit is hidden in the trees rather than being at the nearby trig. With its isolation this hill gives expansive rather than spectacular views.

And so it was on to the final One – Long Knoll. This mighty 295m high hill sits in splendid isolation and has a wonderful 1.5km long ridge that rises above the valley of the River Wylye to the south and rolling wooded ground to the north. Having first navigated a short stretch of busy road a right of way starts up the east end of the ridge. After a short steep climb through some woodland, there is then a wonderful undulating promenade along that ridge until the summit trig is reached.

It was another wonderfully warm day. And there it was. My final English Marilyn climbed on 5th August 2018.

I celebrated with a small bottle of fizz. We spent 50 minutes on the top sunbathing and admiring the views. It had been a wonderful journey taking me from the bleak hills of Northumberland to the Wolds of Yorkshire, to the bucolic but busy Lake District, along the spine of England’s Pennines to the unexpectedly fine Welsh borders and along the foot of England.

Long Knoll , Wiltshire — Long Knoll – the end of the road or the beginning of a new adventure?

We were going to drive all the way back to Yorkshire that afternoon. So it was time to go. But it was not the end of the journey. No, I am not going to try to do all of the Marilyns, though there are nine or so people who have done so. But a focus on other areas not previously visited or not visited for a long time might be in order. And perhaps a target of 600 Marilyns overall might be achievable.

I have around 800 Marilyn ascents with the repeats that I have done. So there will no doubt be some further re-visits as well – particularly on Yorkshire’s (if not England’s) finest little mountain, Ingleborough.

A night to remember

2nd June 2018 by James Stone Leave a Comment

Been one tough week
Dead on my feet
But I’ve made plans for tonight
When I’m feeling blue
Know just what to do
And how to make it right
Seems like this forever
Gonna have myself a night to remember*

And so it was a couple of weeks ago I decided that for my 17^th (yes 17^th) time around the Yorkshire 3 Peaks that I would do a night-time jaunt. I thought that I could catch the sunset on Pen-y-ghent and sunrise on Ingleborough. Poor old Whernside would be traversed in the dark. Well it almost worked out like that.

Leaving Horton-in-Ribblesdale at 8pm I had about 1¼ hours to reach Pen-y-ghent’s summit. I normally manage this section in an hour or so. And so it was that I watched as the fiery sun sank to the north of Ingleborough’s silhouette.

Unsurprisingly perhaps I was alone to enjoy the spectacle.

There was enough light to descend off Pen-y-ghent’s western flank. A new flagged path has been constructed in the upper parts to save the hillside from the thousands of feet that pound around this challenge. At this point the path also forms a part of the Pennine Way.

A new moon hung ahead of me.

It gradually sank in the sky as I proceeded towards Whernside.

The path is well made and mostly easy to follow. I was not going to follow the original route over the bogs in the dark. Soon my head torch was on. Creatures loomed in the dark – sheep, no doubt surprised to see a human at this time.

Occasional birds cried across the lonely moor. At one point the “made” path ends and I felt my way across this section, previous knowledge being vital. Larger beasts loomed, crunching (or so it seemed). But they were disinterested cows.

And so I pass Dismal Hill and over God’s Bridge and then Nether Lodge which is cloaked in darkness and through the farmyard at Lodge Hall which is also dark but a couple of collies shut up in a sheep trailer make sure the world knows I am about.

I emerge on to Gauber Road. One car shoots past me, the only sign of human life until I reach Ingleborough. I am Ribblehead at midnight.

I don’t see the railway viaduct until I am almost at it. Again I follow the “new” route to Bleamoor Sidings. The signalman’s house is dark but lights blaze in the signal box itself. A track testing train rumbles by, its headlights dazzling my eyes that are now accustomed to the night.

I pass over the aqueduct at Smithy Hill and start climbing. I am now tired, through lack of sleep rather than physically, and I plod slowly on. There are no sheep here but I hear the noises of the hillside and feel the chill of the night breeze.

I turn west off the Dales Way and in 10 minutes I am back on flags. This eases the way up on to Whernside’s long summit ridge. It is around two in the morning. I am almost out on my feet. The tarn to my left shows a silvery sheen. The summit seems a long time coming. The breeze is now in my face.

I squeeze through the wall to the trig point and the adjacent wind shelter. Looking to the north east there is the first hint of the new day, a red tinge on the horizon.

I sit in the shelter, put on the rest of my clothes including gloves and take out some snacks and water. I will have a rest here. I lie uncomfortably on the narrow stone seat, body twisted. I close my eyes. I hear rustling in the wall – a mouse. I relax. 20 minutes later I wake shivering. But the stop has done me good.

It’s ten to three and I leave.

I make good progress further along the ridge. The descent to Bruntscar is slow. The path is poor – no place to twist an ankle or worse, at least at this time of night. In a few hours, this path will be swarming but I take care. The light from my head torch is losing the battle to the growing daylight.

The camp site at Philpin is full but no-one stirs there. I pass by the Hill Inn and take the path immediately beyond it. The grass is short and cropped. The sheep are back.

I wind my way up through the limestone pavement, turn left and am back on a flagged path. I remember the days when this was a bog trot. Now I skipped over the squelch to the foot of the short sharp rise at Humphrey Bottom. I have a brief rest here, and more to eat and drink. I am not going to make Ingleborough summit for sunrise.

Soon I am up the steepening and then up another new path towards the summit plateau. I can see Whernside across the valley.

As I emerge on the plateau, the sun is just popping over Simon Fell. It is five twenty five. I see the summit shelter ahead. I also see a person. He makes his way towards me and he introduces himself as John. He had come up for sunset, gone back to his tent lower down the hill and come back up for sunrise. I told him what I was doing and he agreed that I was the mad one!

He left me. Alone again I took a few photos of first Pen-y-ghent.

And Whernside.

I leave crossing the stony plateau and down to where the path splits for Horton. Most of the summit area is a scheduled ancient monument. If you look hard enough there is evidence of buildings and ramparts.

Warmth is now in the air and the breeze is dying. John is ahead but I do not catch him and he leaves the path to where, presumably, his tent is.

A runner then passes me near the ruined shooting hut. I have a last look back at Ingleborough.

It is then past familiar landmarks. The Pennine Bridleway, Sulber Nick, more limestone pavements, the edge of the access land and finally the meadows down to Horton. The air is still. More cows lazily munch on the grass within a couple of metres as I pass. One tosses her head, but none are interested in me. By now I am passing walkers heading the other way. It is going to be a busy day on Ingleborough.

It is also going to be a hot day. I cross the rail track at the station.

Not a cloud in the sky! Horton is heaving. The Yorkshire 3 Peaks will be busy.

I reach the car and crash out for a couple of hours dreaming of red and orange horizons, the calls of the night and sheep in the dark.

* Joe Diffie – A night to remember – 1999

The Forest of Bowland

19th December 2017 by James Stone Leave a Comment

I wrote back in June about a part of the English uplands that I had neglected. Another part I have regarded similarly is the Forest of Bowland. This mass of moorland lies, slightly detached from the main Pennine spine to the east of Lancaster. It is only an hour and half’s drive from home.

So I was due to put my shameful treatment right. This I did in the last month with two separate day trips. The objective was to climb the five Marilyns that lie in the area. I would also to explore a little further as well.

I was reminded that this area was covered in a series of books published in the 1980s by Diadem Press and compiled by Ken Wilson and Richard Gilbert. These books were fairly revolutionary at the time, at least in the UK, in providing a coffee table sized hard backed publication with detailed route descriptions of walks in the British Isles and generally good quality photographs to illustrate them. There was a route in each of Classic Walks and Wild Walks that covered the Forest of Bowland.

The former had a route covering Ward’s Stone, the highest point in the Forest of Bowland at 563m. I did not follow its suggested route though did overlap it to a degree.

It describes Bowland as a “secret place, curiously difficult of access despite its nearness to Lancashire’s teeming cities.” It also said “you will see more “Keep Out” notices in Bowland than in any comparable area of Britain”. Of course this was in the days before the Countryside and Rights of Way Act 2000 which introduced the right to roam over mountain, moor, heath or down together with other areas.

Still the Forest of Bowland remains relatively untouched apart from a few tops. It is land largely owned by the Duke of Westminster and United Utilities, especially in its northern parts. Apart from livestock farming, the land is given over to grouse and other game shooting. Shooting tracks can conveniently be used on occasion. But there are also vast tracts of bog.

Like the northern Pennines there is a feeling of bleak spaciousness. It is an area where you can lose yourself, or indeed get lost if the clouds are down (as they often are here).

Day 1

My first day involved three separate walks covering tops in the south of the Forest of Bowland. These three would cover Fair Snape Fell, Longridge Fell and Easington Fell.

Fair Snape Fell

The day was bright and cold with a hard frost. I was going to tackle Fair Snape Fell first, from the south. The start point is at the junction of Startifants Lane and the private road to Wolfen Hall south east of the aptly named Fell Foot. This is to the north of Clitheroe up miles of narrow winding lanes.

I had Jet with me today as the routes across access land that I was going to take did not restrict dogs. We were the first car there. We followed the road up to Fell Foot where a public footpath then takes you steeply up to the first top, Parlick, which glowed in the morning sun. The rise is not sustained and we were soon at the tumbledown cairn at the top.

The way from there onwards is straightforward. For the summit of Fair Snape Fell (which is not at the trig point shown on the map) we stayed to the right (east) of the fence down to the col between Parlick and Fair Snape Fell and then most of the way up the rise ahead. Part way up the rise there is an indistinct path that branches to the right and crosses the boggy moor.

The summit of Fair Snape Moor is on the ridge line ahead. If you can find this path, it does become stronger (if wetter) and will lead you to a fence with a wooden gate (that must be climbed). The summit cairn with a large wooden stake is now ahead. The last few metres were on a flagged path, then through a kissing gate. The distant views are extensive with an interesting profile of Whernside from this angle. As usual from these parts, Ingleborough dominated the view to the north.

We then turned south west towards the trig point. Fortunately the bogs were largely frozen so the way was easy enough. In warmer, wetter conditions I can imagine that this stretch would be somewhat trying. There was a bit of a gathering of some fell runners and another walker at the trig and nearby shelters and cairn. So we had a bit of a gossip before following the edge of the escarpment south east and then south back towards Parlick. There are better views from the trig out towards the Irish Sea and up to the Lake District with Black Combe standing out, Ward’s Stone and Fylde. I forgot to look out for Blackpool Tower, but I imagine that it must be visible.

Paraglider enthusiasts were setting themselves up on Parlick on our return. There was not much wind, but we did not wait to see if they were going to be successful in launching themselves.

Longridge Fell

Next came Longridge Fell. This lies south across the valley of the Rivers Loud and Hoddle from Parlick.

It is possible to drive through the pretty village of Chipping and up to Jeffrey Hill on the southern slopes of the valley. Here there is a car park marked as such on the Ordnance Survey.

Longridge Fell was a straightforward, if by now wet, out and back from the car park.

There is a permissive path from the car park that leads towards the distant block of trees. The early morning frost had by now m elted leaving us to find occasional oases of relative dryness. The path arrived at an intersection of a wall by the trees. The wall was then followed and in a further kilometre the top, marked with a triangulation pillar was reached. We passed a small group of horses grazing. They must have been used to human interaction because they looked up and then continued munching.

The view across to Fair Snape Fell is good but the woodland obscured the views around the southern arc . We stopped for something to eat and then returned roughly the same way. This bit was less than two hours return including the stop at the top.

Easington Fell and Waddington Fell

Finally we drove around to Easington Fell. This was a half hour drive away but at least it was generally on the way home.

This ascent was similar in characteristics to Longridge Fell. It involved another bog trot from the quarry on Waddington Fell about 6km north of Clitheroe.

Navigation would be easy even in poor weather. First we followed the fence-line and then a wall. A man with a gun intersected our path about 50m ahead of us, but other than giving a quick glance ignored us. Once the edge of the woodland was reached, the summit cairn soon came into view sitting on the bare grass 100 metres or so from the edge of the woodland. Easington Fell is fairly uninspiring hill though with a nice long distance view to Ingleborough and Pen-y-ghent.

Distant Ingleborough from Easington Fell

I varied the return slightly so that we followed the footpath to Walloper Well. On the way down there was a view south to Pendle Hill (and the concrete factory in Clitheroe).

From there we crossed the road and ascended Waddington Fell. This was done as insurance against someone coming along later to re-survey it and Easington Fell and deciding that Waddington Fell is higher. The Ordnance Survey shows 396m spot heights for each top, though with adjacent quarry workings perhaps I need not worry that Waddington Fell will take Easington Fell’s Marilyn crown.

With the shorter November hours light was fading as we followed a squelchy trail adjacent to the fence around the quarry. This led inexorably up to the summit trig and slightly higher ground at the corner of a wall. On the way up we passed another mad bagger and his black Labrador.

We did not stay long at the top. It was almost dark and it was time to go home.

Day 2

This time I did not take Jet. Although we have the right to roam this does not extend to dogs where the land owner so stipulates, one of the concessions that had to be accepted if the legislation was to be passed. Allegedly dogs disturb birds. This in an area which is effectively a wildlife desert where the only birds to be seen are grouse and the occasional passing gull or corvid.

Day 1 had involved three walks. Day 2 was going to be one of two walks.

Ward’s Stone and Clougha Pike

The first was to climb Ward’s Stone and Clougha Pike. Approaches from the east take you through the narrow pass known as the Trough of Bowland and then drops into the upper Wyre valley. Soon there is a right turn up a narrow no through road to Tarnbrook. This is a run-down hamlet. There is nowhere convenient to park there. But about 600m short of the end of the road there is a large grassy area where cars can be parked. So I parked there.

I was nice and early, but I did not have the frost of my previous visit so I was concerned that the going might be quite gooey. I wandered along the road to Tarnbrook. Just after the first dwellings there is a patch of grass and a gate into the fields on the left. Here there is a permissive path towards the moor with the gate festooned with signs including one making it clear that dogs are not welcome.

A 4WD track then leads across some initial fields before climbing more steeply up parallel to Tarnsyke Clough to a feature shown as Luncheon Hut – presumably where the shooters eat. Above the building the track splits. I went straight on and the track soon runs out at a large vehicular turning circle. But a path continues on from here serving the grouse butts above.

I followed the line of butts and by now was up near the 500m contour. The ground was less wet than I had feared.

Ward’s Stone has two triangular pillars, one at each end of its broad plateau. The one at the east to which I first headed is shown with a spot height of 561m. The one to the west has a spot height of 560m. The true summit is the top of a peat hag about 60m west of the eastern trig.

From this eastern vantage there was a fine view of the ever present Ingleborough, which is my favourite Pennine hill – I have been up it well over 20 times!

Ingleborough from Ward's Stone Forest of Bowland — Ingleborough from Ward’s Stone

The western trig also looked higher from here!

There is a path of sorts that runs between the two trigs and it became boggier as I went westwards. At one point an old boundary marker could be seen leaning gently in its sea of peat.

Boundary Marker on Ward's Stone Forest of Bowland — Boundary Marker on Ward’s Stone

The western trig was reached with some sort of communications gadgetery 100m to the south. It was time for something to eat, if only because the view had suddenly become rather nice. Instead of Ingleborough, the arc to the west had open up. A fell runner who was probably also around my advanced age came by. We had a brief chat before he went off returning the way he had come and the way I was to go.

[The Forest of Bowland seems to be a popular area for these runners as I must have come across another six or seven through the day.]

I could also see the next object, being Grit Fell around 3km to the west with cloud brushing its top. The ground between looked quite rough and peaty and presumably wet. To start it was just rough and peaty but it became wet as the low point between Ward’s Stone and Grit Fell was reached.

Ward's Stone - west top - Forest of Bowland — Ward’s Stone – west top – looking back east

Grit Fell from Ward's Stone Forest of Bowland — Grit Fell from Ward’s Stone

There was a brief respite where a vehicle track passes over the broad col. The wet path continued. At one point there is a tree growing in the midst of the moor with no other tree anywhere near. Odd.

Lone tree on Grit Fell, Forest of Bowland

Beyond the ground became drier and I was soon at the cairn on Grit Fell.

Clougha Pike is a further couple of kilometres to the west. This section probably offered the roughest ground of the day and I was glad to reach this point.

Clougha Pike is renowned for the view to be had from it. Sitting on the western edge of Forest of Bowland it commands views up the western side of the Pennines, to the Lake District and Barrow-in-Furness, over Lancaster and down to Fylde. Allegedly Blackpool Tower and the Isle of Man can be seen. But today there was too much cloud and murky atmosphere for that.

Nonetheless the views were great. It was also the place where I saw the most people on either of the days I was in the Forest of Bowland. I spent 20 minutes here having some lunch and admiring the views (and the energy of a few passing fell runners).

Trail Magazine once asked its readers to vote for the 100 greatest British mountains/hills and Clougha Pike made it into the 100. It is not really a hill in its own right as it is really just an appendage to Grit Fell, but there we go. It’s on the list.

View from Clougha Pike Forest of Bowland — View from Clougha Pike

It was then time to leave. I reversed my route over Grit Fell and past the lonesome pine to the vehicle track.

From there it was a straightforward descent down the track, ignoring the branch to the left at Grizedale Head, down to the road at Higher Lee, thence Lower Lee and along the road back to the car.

White Hill

After a bit more food and drink there I reckoned that I ought still to have time to get to my final objective, White Hill, that day.

This involved a drive back over the Trough and then to Slaidburn and north again past Stocks Reservoir.

It was pretty gloomy when I reached the car park at Cross of Greet. So I needed to get a move on. White Hill is a couple of kilometres away across extremely wet ground. A fence can be followed but in places this leads you into extremely marshy terrain. So caution has to be taken.

40 minutes saw me to the top without having fallen into any boggy holes. I was met by colourful clouds to the west as the sun had now dipped below the horizon. Nearby the summit trig there is one of a series of watch towers built by the water utility when tunnels and other infrastructure were being built in the 1800s. Unfortunately I did not have time to explore this as it was now getting pretty dark.

White Hill sunset Forest of Bowland — White Hill sunset

So I made my way back in the gloom. I managed to place both of my feet into peaty holes on the return trip. Fortunately my boots and gaiters managed to repel most of the water and I safely returned to the car in the dark.

So that was it for the Forest of Bowland. I must go back one day. It has a certain aura to it. There are some picturesque villages flanking its slopes and valleys with a remote feel.

Southern Corbetts – Corserine and The Rhinns of Kell

8th October 2017 by James Stone 2 Comments

The previous day I had climbed Cairnsmore of Carsphairn. Today I was going to walk the Rhinns of Kells ridge, the highest point being a hill called Corserine at 814m (26750ft). The forecast was good and, for March, the weather was relatively warm, albeit with a sharp breeze.

“Rhinn” is a word from old Irish meaning foothill, a landmark or a peninsula. “Kells” is refuge or niche. The name referring overall to Irish settlement in the area. The ridge runs in a roughly north-south direction for roughly 16km from Black Craig in the north to Meilke Millyea in the south. I was not going to tackle the northern section from Carlin’s Cairn to the north. But rather hit the ridge at Corserine and then make my way south.

The normal start point for this walk (and the one that I would use) is from Forrest Lodge on the east side of the ridge. Forrest Lodge is at the centre of a forestry estate owned by the Norwegian Fred Olsen Group.

The estate provides a car park 6km west of the A713 up a twisty no through road. There are warning signs there about overnight parking at the car park.

From the car park the approach to Corserine follows forestry roads at first and picking the right one to start on is key. Once identified it is straightforward with some helpful indicator signs. There is a map on the board at the car park and the initial road is called Birgir Natvig Road followed by Robert Watson Road. On the return to the forest one follows Professor Hans Heiberg Road. I understand that these individuals are all scientists.

After an initial forested section a felled area is passed through and a house, Fore Bush, is on the right. The road swings to the right and back up into forest. After a couple of turns, the path, now rougher and wetter, meets the edge of the forest by Folk Burn and a stile.

Once out of the forest a faint path then leads over grassy ground, trending to the right towards the north east ridge of Corserine.

Here views opened up towards Cairnsmore of Cairsphairn.

To the left are some incipient cliffs.

The path continues up the ridge and eventually to a large cairn (named as Hennessy’s Shelter on the 1:25,000 OS). This is on the edge of the summit plateau around the 800m mark at the Scar of the Folk.

It was then an easy and pleasant walk across to the summit trig. There were great views to the right towards Carlin’s Cairn. Here the view expands to hills to the west, including Merrick, the highest hill in Galloway. There are also great distant views to the Northern Pennines, the Lake District, the Isle of Man, Ailsa Crag (just), Arran, the Southern Highlands and the rest of the Southern Uplands.

Here is Arran to the north-west.

These were the views to the south, including the Lake District in England across the Solway Firth.

The route continued on down the south ridge of Corserine and over the subsidiary summits of Millfire and Milldown. At the next col, Jet and I stopped. Whilst I had something to eat, Jet took advantage of the lochans there – the Lochans of Auchniebut.

A 100m ascent took us up to the trig point and cairn at the southern end of Meikle Millyea. From here, the view back to Corserine is like this.

The view out to Cairnsmore of Cairsphairn is out over a vast expanse of air.

The true summit of Meikle Millyea is not at the trig point and cairn but actually around 350m to the south. So I wandered across the rough ground to that point. The views to Merrick were better here.

And to the snow covered Lake District.

I returned to the trig/cairn and followed the north-east ridge down to Meikle Lump following a broken wall and over wetter ground to the edge of the forest and, in a while, Professor Hans Heiberg Road.

So this walk saw me complete the seven southern Scottish Corbetts. Only about 170 other Corbetts to do now!