Burnsall to Darley 14/07/18

14.1 miles, via Hartlington, Appletreewick, Skyreholme, Forest Road, Pock Stones Moor, 

 Hoodstorth Lane, Stone House Crossroads, Thornthwaite, Carr Lodge, and Darley Beck. 

The Summer weather may have wavered a bit in the last week, but the temperature still managed to peak at 30C at work, and I feel heartened that the heat hasn't beaten me down and I still want to walk as another bright Saturday comes around, getting in another late start, which surely helps matters, as the Dalesbus penetrates even further into Wharfedale for our third trip over the moors to Nidderdale, arriving at Burnsall at 11..15am, which gives us a pretty clear window of 5 and a half hours to complete today's trip. So we need to start off quickly, away from the many people using this corner as their focus point for a day's tripping, setting off across the Wharfe over the justifiably famous Burnsall bridge and setting off up the lane above the riverside pasture that the Dales Way crosses, immediately getting us into virgin territory as we establish a new perimeter to my walking field, looking back to admire the rising flank of Burnsall Fell as it looms over the village and river, creating a unique sort of setting for the village that retreats behind us. There's ancient field terraces and boundaries to admire in the limestone fields by this road, all looking distinctly parched as our heatwave continues, so all the shade we get is welcome as we approach the hamlet of Hartlington as our first port of call, not that it amounts to more than a loose collection of cottages and farms at an elevated remove from the river, soon in our wake as we pass on over Hartlington Bridge on Barben Beck, which forms a large and well hidden valley coming down from Grimwith reservoir to the north, where we mark the passing of 2,000 miles walked In My 40s as that's another stat that needs maintaining. Past the Woodhouse farm, we move below the steeply looming Kail Hill and move up closer to the river, and on above the vast plots of Masons Campsite, which seems to be full to bursting even though the summer holidays have still not started, and I regard the folks in their tents in much the same way as they would me as I press on past Low Hall and the Craven Arms pub to get our first good view of the looming masses of Barden Fell, with the crags of Simon's Seat prominent on the northern face. Soon enough, we run into Appletreewick, which is as quaint and lovely as it's name suggest it ought to be, rising up among the many cottages from the New Inn and Mock Beggar hall at the bottom to St John the Baptist's church and High Hall at the top, and a real place to aspire to dwell if it wasn't for the fact that it only gets three days of bus services each week, and then on past the isolated village hall and back into the countryside, looking up to Barden Fell again, and spotting the Nidd Aqueduct hiding in the trees as it skirts its way around the flank of Carncliff Top.

Burnsall Bridge.

Hartlington hamlet.

Masons Campsite.

Appletreewick.

Past the Stangs Lane corner we the landscape looks much more like what we think of as being the Yorkshire Dales as we skirt the edge of Limestone country and follow the lane as it shadows Fir Beck, past the Howarth farm campsite and into the hamlet of Skyreholme, which has an actual industrial building among its cottages, though the setting with Simon's Seat above the valley is more immediately arresting, and we drop down to the easily missable hamlet of Middle Skyreholme where the roads and streams junction.The well concealed Parcevall Hall and gardens, and the even more hidden Troller's Gill sit off to the north, and our long ascent to the moors starts as we hit the rising lane of Skyreholme Bank, elevating us past civilisation's last outpost at the farm cluster at High Skyreholme and then on among the plots of yellowing grass and above the cleft formed by Blands Beck, a steady rise that's friendly on the legs, even though the midday heat already feels like it could pose a problem. Simon's and Lord's Seats across the valley will be our visual companions as we go on the early stages of our long elevation of 200m to the top of the lane, with Barden Moor's mass eventually rising to form our backdrop as we try to spot the Nidd Aqueduct emerging from its long trip under the moors to the north, somewhere over the beck below, not confirmably seen though the disturbed soil over it course south is clearly visible in other places, before we lose our tarmacked surface and join the rough track of Forest Road as we push east. Now over 300m up, moorland grass rules the scene as the limestone walls enclose the track and we hammer the 70m of elevation on the track up to the valley's head at Eller Edge Nook, finding a single shooting hut up here and gaining enough height to be able to look back as far Kirkby Fell and it company rising above Malhamdale, before we meet the track onto Pock Stones Moor, with the stones visible on the high horizon and a cycling party being met as the only other folk on this hill. This moor isn't closed because of a fire risk, though the long grasses suggest we are still atop Limestone rather than Gritstone, as there's not a lot of heather to see on the plots stretching to the north, and we continue to elevate, though more gently now, to see Great Whernside and many other lumps rising over Wharfedale behind us, as well as sight coming in the direction of Greenhow Hill and Coldstones as they appear on the northern horizon beyond the outcrops of Rochards Crags, immediately distinguished by what might be the most identifiable clump of trees in the county.

Simon's Seat looms above Skyreholme.

High Skyreholme and the rising Bank.

Looking back to Barden Moor, from Skyreholme Bank Top.

Forest Road leading to Eller Edge Nook.

Pock Stones Moor, looking East.

We are right on the border of the Bolton Abbey estate's portion of Barden Fell up here, and it seems that work is ongoing to rebuild and enhance the dry stone wall that marks its perimeter, though I can't be certain who they'd want to keep out or what they'd need to keep in, but work on that at this distant remove can't be too much fun as we mark a distinctive shift onto Gritstone underfoot and heather starts to flood the moorland view to the east and the crinkles of Nidderdale start to reveal themselves beyond the upland of which Heyshaw Moor forms a part. As we approach the path's crest it's a grand feeling to be so remote and taking in so many views up close for the first time, catching sight of the moorland between the Upper Wharfe and Nidd that appears so unyielding and is so utterly trackless that it will never go explored, and the Little Pock Stones soon appear by the path's angle, as we top out at 430m up and the view shifts around to reveal the whole of the Washburn Valley, from the headwaters coming off the moors to the north and down through the reservoirs and on to the Lower Wharfe. Stop for lunch on a convenient staring boulder, from where we can see south to Rocking Hall, and over to RAF Menwith Hill apparently sitting right in front of Knab's Ridge wind farm, and I'm pretty sure there would be some great views to further afield if the heat haze wasn't disrupting the horizon, but the feeling of seeing the familiar in a new way is particularly strong as well as bringing this distant terrain closer to home, all good things to ponder before setting off again, with a clear three hours remaining for us to reach the finish line. The track over Pock Stones Moor descends at a gentle angle, which hopefully will be kind to my feet that have had too much toil over the last couple of months, and we travel quite a distance down before we can look back to see the Great Pock Stones, up on the moor top and isolated from us by the wall on the Barden Fell lands, and like Rocking Hall was last week, they will be our companion on the horizon for much of the nest couple of hours as we pass across the Washburn. Heading southeast, we meet our first notable tributaries of that river as we drop down to pass over Harden Gill via a ford, amid a sea of bracken and with many ruined sheep pens sitting by the track side, as well as having many admirable boulders projecting from the moorland, and from there we shift directly eastwards onto an undulating track that offers sight towards the path from last week, only a mile or so to the south of here, but a world away in moorland terms, where everything is at a greater remove than the eye can understand, like that shooting hut that sits isolated off to the north at the moor's heart.

North to Greenhow Hill and Coldstones,

Little Pock Stones.

RAF Menwith Hill and Knabs Ridge Windfarm.

Pock Stones Moor, looking back north.

Harden Gill.

Getting to the moorland's edge at Red Gate has only taken 40 minutes since lunch, so we can feel good about our progress, as we join Hoodstorth Lane from the driveway to Garth Crook farm (no, really) and our descent down the lane to the Washburn is pretty swift, having not seen much of Thruscross Reservoir from my elevated vantage points, with only its perimeter plantation of conifers suggesting its location, and the deserted road has to S-bend steeply down the valley side to bring us down to the river bridge, a lot of effort for a road that doesn't seem to really go anywhere. I guess the farmsteads that cling to these fertile fields must provide all the traffic as there's no company to be had on the haul uphill to the other high bank, passing Peatman Sike and Carlhow Ridge plantations, with Humberstone Bank and Ridge House farms as the only signs of habitation locally before we meet the edge of Sandy Gate, the red route lane from Blubberhouses to Greenhow Hill that will present us with traffic to contend with for a mile or two. We start out from the shadow of the Palleys Crags end of Braithwaite Moor and track to the southeast, with the distant water tower on the horizon as our sentinel, above the rough plots around the still concealed reservoir, as the traffic appears regularly through the heat haze and the hamlet that names the water below also advertises itself with signage but never quite appears. so attention drifts east, across the path that we took to the north last year and down into the distant valley, with the woods around Brimham Rocks being obviously prominent. Pass a curious cemetery by the roadside, where the graves from Holy Trinity church in West End were reinterred when the valley was flooded and the village lost by the creation of the reservoir in 1966, and then we are on, to meet the water tower at the roadside and the hamlet of Stone House Crossroads, where the inn seems to be in business, though not very busy as the day holds temptations elsewhere. Despite being the first place to grab extra drink since Appletreewick, I'll hope that I've got enough for the remainder of the day as the heat and thirst have proved unrelenting, and here we finally touch a previously walked trail, and that's been another long stretch of boundary establishing as we join Harper Lane to start our descent into Nidderdale, with the forward view to Heyshaw Moor and its mast being particularly good and despite coming close to it, I don't really think we can claim to visit the hamlet of Padside this time around, as we take the rising lane away to the east before we reach the corner by the former Methodist chapel.

The moorland walk ends, at Red Gate in the Washburn.

The Washburn above Thruscross Reservoir.

looking back to the Wharfedale Moors from Sandy Gate.

The Water Tower at Stone House Crossroads.

Looking up to Heyshaw Moor and avoiding Padside.

We can rapidly conclude that his is certainly a pleasantly rural and distant corner of Nidderdale as we trace the narrow lane that passes on between the fields of High House and Moorhouse Hill farms and enter the equally loose association of farms and cottages that identify themselves as the hamlet of Thornthwaite, another that has no distinctive centre and has seemed to grow in significance as suburban style houses show up in random fields around abouts. Passing below the Calf Crags up the hillside, it's notable that one of the wind and water shaped rocks has a profile that looks exactly like that of Spitting Image's puppet of Neil Kinnock, which is a distinctly random though to have as we seek the next junction on our trail, finding Dacre Pasture Lane actually further along than I'm expecting but very obvious as it has recently been resurfaced and still smells fresh as it wanders down past the idyllic looking Springs House farm. Through a clump of trees, which conceals the newly made over Church Lane farm, and then we meet the tiny St Saviour's church by the road, and you need to pass through its enclosure to actually get any sight of it at all is it so well hidden by its yew trees, and it doesn't suggest great vintage either, looking altogether Victorian, as if this is a part of the county that doesn't have a lot of particularly ancient roots. Some thing that is old is just down at the bottom of the hill, and that's the old packhorse bridge on Fall (or Padside) Beck, not really wide enough to get more than a single pedestrian over but showing a nicely pronounced arch as it carries a footpath in the direction that we aren't travelling, and we push on uphill towards the Carr Lodge farm complex, which has ceased to be agricultural and is now the heart of a residential development, that has claimed both its High and Low barns and shifted the path away from passing through it. Thus we have to rise to join the driveway that leads into the Scout Camp site in the woods beyond, and it seems that walkers are not welcome therein, though the correct path to avoid it is not at all obvious, and has us having to clamber over a horrible stone stile to enter the woods on Cat Crag Ridge, and there doesn't seem to be a single Boy Scout or camping party anywhere among the trees, though the path seems well signed here to lead us to the stile into the fields of Dacre Pasture, where a fine view to the east appears, looking up to the high road that we walked last week, and down the Nidd Valley to the bare profile of Hartwith Hill and the wooded sides of Swarcliffe, with our end line in Darley somewhere down there between them. 

Thornthwaite hamlet.

St Saviour's church, Thornthwaite.

Fall Beck Packhorse Bridge.

Carr Lodge farm.

Nidderdale from Cat Crag Wood.

Field walk for a stretch to get us on the way there, and there hasn't been much trackless walking to do over my last few trips as we've stuck to the clear paths on the moor and to roads in most other places, not that this is hard to trace, following the long stone wall downhill in the direction of Oxen Close farm, and then meet Dairy Lane to shift us for a few paces to the north before resuming the field walking across the hay meadows that have been recently mown and left all the with all the associated problems of airborne particulates that afflict the sensitive. Bottom out as we meet the pasture by Darley Beck, and the local sheep here won't be startled as we pace through to find the footbridge that takes us to the south bank and to the field walk that leads us over to the B6451, arriving above Ivy Cottage and the Darley Mill centre, and below that rather dramatic house and the Wellington Inn, and it's up to Darley Head we pace, safe in the knowledge that even if we mistime our finish there will be plenty of bus stops to choose from along the way. The old cottages look like the kind that you might dream of inheriting, and the suburban growth around looks like the sort you might never afford, but even the lowliest houses in Darley look like they come with an excellent view of mid-Nidderdale as standard, but the mystery of the village must surely be where the centre lies as instinct puts it around the former Wesleyan chapel and the austere Christ Church at the western end, as this is where Darley House resides. However, the middle of the village has the obvious village green and its collection of cottages along with its own name, Stocks Green, which gives it a feeling of centrality, though this is diminished as we pass the top of Station Road, which once led to the lost Nidderdale railway line as the council houses and lesser portions of suburban living are to be found here, though it does boast the only shop in the village. So maybe Low Green is the centre, where the Prospect Inn once lived, along with the primary school and the beck that once fired the industrial site at Fringill Mill, but as we pass into contemporary suburbia again, you realise that it doesn't really matter as this is ribbon of history and dwellings that stretches for over a mile, as much a suburban dormitory for Harrogate and York as much as it is its own place. And now most of it has been seen, as both my previous trails hereabouts only grazed both ends of it, and we land at the eastern end at the Moke Hill bus stop at 4.40pm, feeling like I could kill for some extra refreshment as the day's heat finally takes its grip when we stop moving, though the Birchfield Farm dairy is just a bit too far away for that, but my concluding time target is met, and the not too distant #24, and the other buses, ought to be able to get me home in  just over two hours.

Darley Beck

The Wellington Inn, Darley Head.

Stocks Green, Darley.

Bridge House and Fringill Mill, Darley Low Green.

Darley Moke Hill.

5,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 3419.7 miles
2018 Total: 307.2 miles
Up Country Total: 3089.5 miles
Solo Total: 3140.9 miles
Miles in My 40s: 2013.5 miles

Next Up: Wharfe to Nidd, fourth and final, with additional Crepes, hopefully!