Rivington Park to Egerton 04/03/23

7 miles, via the Pineteum, the Ravine, the Terraced Garden, the Dovecote, Noon Hill Slack,

 Hordern Stoops, Hoar Stones Brow, Belmont, Belmont Reservoir, Great Robert Hill, 

  Stones Bank Bridge, and Dimple.

To me the most disruptive thing about the Pandemic years has been the social ties that have been loosened and severed by the months of enforced isolation, and none more telling of these has been the distance that was put between myself and My Sister's family, where I haven't visited for a walking occasion since the summer of 2019, and not on a solo excursion since the preceding April, meaning that paths in the West Pennines have gone unseen, while my Nieces have transitioned into almost growed-up girls without us seeing it happen up close, and if there's a time to do something about that absence, that time is now. Company also allows me to push myself a bit harder on the trail as we make a second attempt to launch my twelfth walking year, and My Sister approaches my need to exercise with some very well-considered planning, which means not rising early and heading out immediately, instead easing through the morning an heading out for lunchtime, allowing us to fuel up before we get to the business of walking, and by aiming back towards their house means that no mental stress will be had from heading away from home and getting anxious about the duration of a return trip. So we head out to Rivington Park to take lunch at Rivington Barn for the umpteenth time, and afterwards, My Sister and I can then aim ourselves to head back around Winter Hill as she acts as my person trainer, as we attempt to get into some sort of walking condition again, and as we depart eastwards at 1.10pm, we can immediately acknowledge that the first challenge of the day will be heading uphill, off the Rivington Lane and onto the dirt track that lead up though the park's array of bare trees, onto the main path that leads up through the Pinetum, and on to shadow the Ravine, one of the features of Lord Leverhulme's parkland that has recently be revealed by some extensive tree-felling. The hard work comes as we rise on through the Terraced Garden, zig-zagging uphill still as my wheeze starts to get distractingly loud, though not actually worse than any of my regular early-season apparent breathing difficulties despite My Sister's concerns, before we hit the more direct rise up past the ornamental pond and bowling green that both manage to open up large flat spaces on the steeply pitched rise of the former Lever Park as we rise to the high track of the moorland-skirting Belmont Road, where the local crowds head on towards Rivington Pike and its tower and we press more northerly, towards the Dovecote Tower, above the informal garden around the site of the Bungalow, the now lost pile at the park's northernmost corner.

The Pinetum, Rivington Park.

The Ravine, Rivington Park.

The Ornamental Lake, Rivington Park.

The Dovecote Tower, Rivington Park.

Keeping on the Belmont Road means there will be no more aggressive ascending as we pass around the northern end of Winter Hill, with its mast rising ahead and to the left of us as we pass around the fall of the land down towards the Yarrow and Anglezarke reservoirs, and across to distant-ish Chorley, where a view beyond the Ribble estuary and the Fylde peninsula would emerge on a clearer day, before we settle in among the sea of yellowed moorland grasses on a north-easterly passage with the mass or Anglezarke moor arriving ahead of us, with the rises of Spitler's Edge and Great Hill atop it. Both places we've seen up close as we drop down below the fall of Noon Hill Slack, finding that a two person walk-and-talk really is best the way to set the world to rights as My Sister and I cover most of the bases of all the nonsense that's gone on over the last three years, as we finally come down to the Rivington Road passage, where the cyclists and over-enthusiastic motorists have to be avoided on the transition across the crest at Hordern Stoops, where we pass out of Chorley borough, which comes as a surprise as I always think that Rivington Park falls into Bolton's municipality. Then we can press eastwards again, onto the undulating dirt track to the north of the road, below the quarry delves of Hoar Stone Brow, and above the fall of the stream that feeds ward's reservoir on its fall towards Belmont village and into the spread of Longworth Clough, tracking the muddy path as it leads us off the moorland and onto the harder surfaces that draw us in past the South View terrace to meet the A675 High Street, in the heart of this village that seems to exist solely to serve the pair of dye works that grew up here, where we'll briefly track up the main road before we drop down to meet the dam of Belmont Reservoir. Despite going on a bit of a West Pennines greatest hits tour on this stretch, this passage as the foot of the reservoir with its notable sailing club is one we haven't previously made, on the long-closed road that I an recall having been driven over many moons ago, drawing us away from the moorland fringe and into the wild extremities of the fields above greater Bolton, which puts us on the home stretch as we rise again with Longworth Road North, past a strange shroud of ass-ugly fencing and on between the made-over Whittaker Upper and Lower farmsteads, up to the microwave mast perched on Great Robert Hill. 

Belmont Road, and the Winter Hill transmitter.

Belmont Road and Anglezarke Moor.

The clough of Horden Brook, above Belmont.

South View terrace, Belmont.

Belmont Reservoir.

The mast on Great Robert Hill.

Switching ourselves onto Stones Bank Road leads us over to the local flooded quarry pit that looks primed to be a plausible future deathtrap for some unfortunate local kid, and also the route of the Witton Weavers Way, the last path we blazed in this quarter nearly four years ago, where we split off the road by the RTA blackspot where the clear-up job from the last crash has been less than thorough, and we head down through the plantations above Delph Reservoir on the steep decline down to Stones Bank Bridge, over the eponymous brook and then sharply up again on the far bank. Pass on though the tall conifers and meet the local herd of moorland cattle that presently graze on the friendlier fields around Dimple hamlet, where we are led out onto the A666 again, to meet the Ciao Baby! restaurant again but this time follow the Blackburn road as it does the transition back into urban Bolton, leading us to our destination as we decline past the Walmsley Unitarian Chapel, Egerton's Primary school and Cricket Cliub, the Cross Guns inn (extensively renovated but in need of a landlord at present), and down among the stone terraces to the finish line beyond the URC and the Thomas Egerton inn itself. All wrapped up at My Sister's place at 3.40pm, ahead of the onset of the evening's chill and feeling in decent fettle after two hours of not too challenging terrain and a good rate maintained by My Sister, probably aided by knowing sitting down in the warmth with a brew is the immediate reward that comes with our arrival, and that a refreshing shower isn't too far away once the need arrives either, as will a rewarding feed up to conclude the day, with a roast dinner in a pan-Asian fashion coming our way, courtesy of My Sister's ongoing culinary investigation of her extensive cookbook collection, which she has been digitally indexing ever since the Covid lockdowns became a thing. In addition to my satisfactory physical endurance through 150 minutes of unbroken exercise, I'm also happy to report that Boots #8 also got themselves a successful revival thanks to the insertion of Orthaheel wedges that completely covered up the collapsed heel supports that caused their premature retirement in June last year, and now, aside from some minor leakage issues, it looks like this pair of Storms might see further use as they become the abroad pair that lives with those of My Sister's family in her basement, for occasional use for the next few seasons when I come to visit, having not had to lug a pair with me on the train ride across the Pennines especially for outdoors-iness.

Flooded Quarry and Winter Hill.

The descent to Stones Bank Bridge.

Dimple Hamlet.

The Cross Guns Inn, Egerton.

The final analysis seems to be that it's a lot easier to get myself going if I've got an external influence to encourage me, and My Sister proves that very well, in addition to identifying the fact that a sunken mood problem is afflicting me just as badly as the fatigue issues that I'm enduring, and she has me stretching again on the Sunday of my visit too, as we browsed the shops and streets of Manchester on the spare couple of hours before I travel away again, miles that I'll not be counting, but hopefully might be the trailer for a trip to come once the End of Spring rolls about, which we've both had in mind for longer than is honestly sensible...

5,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 5941.9 miles
2023 Total: 19.7 miles
Up Country Total: 5,461.2 miles
Solo Total: 5599.3 miles
5,000 in my 40s Total: 4531.7 miles

Next Up: Inspiring Myself to a Decent Mileage, closer to home...