12.9 miles, via Keyham, Hungarton, Lowesby Park, Twyford & Thorpe Satchville.
Two days of intense heat, the sort not experienced in years, is not that useful for me getting active whilst on my jollies, so not get much gets done aside from an early morning start for three hours of shed painting, so the hope comes that my batteries will feel recharged when the temperature drops and the need to walk comes on. Thursday has a 4 degree drop from the previous days' highs, so it has to be the time to get some miles under my feet, as it's been 12 days since my last serious burn, and it's good to keep things relatively local whilst in Leicestershire, adding a few new places to my wandering field and establishing a new boundary to the land of Car Treks and youthful travels. A 9.30 start then for a projected 5 hour trek to the north-east, starting out from Abbots Road URC and heading up to the ring road to detour into Monk's Rest Gardens, one of the three local parks of my youth, the others seen in March, taking the route between tennis courts and bowling green to the wooded shade beneath the Cedars and Beeches on the lawn of the Italianate vicarage. Arrive in Humberstone village at the lych-gate of St Marys, and head east on Main Street to take in the Medieval Mud walls preserved on the north edge of the churchyard, and the imposing red brick house in the old folks flats that I always assumed was 18th century but is actually a 1970s reproduction, before passing my old schools once more but this time continuing east once we reach the top of Keyham Close. Across the Ring Road again, and the ongoing road will always be Keyham Lane to me, bordering the outer edge of the city regardless of a name change to Elms Farm Cottages in it early going and the Hamilton Estate having grown over the last 20(!) years to its north, and largely hidden from view anyway, with the correct name returning with its West addition as it passes on above the Nether Hall estate.
Friday, 22 July 2016
Monday, 18 July 2016
Humberstone to The King Power Stadium 18/07/16
5.9 miles, via Uppingham & Humberstone Roads, St Martin's, Kate Street & Filbert Street.
A Summer week off from work, and I'm off Down Country because it's July, and not feeling the need to attempt the 30+ miles that I did last year, so this time around we are scaling back the wandering so that the stamina might last a bit longer as the warm months press on, and it sure looks like we've got a few hot days on the immediate horizon so modest distances are a given. Rather than heading for the countryside, it's good to start with a city walk, as Leicester's centre has still to drop onto my schedule, and an early start from the East is due so the trail might be done before lunch time, departing my chosen local start point of Abbot's Road URC at 9.05am, and setting course along Scraptoft Lane. Always felt that this was a good road for illustrating the development of suburbia in the early 20th century, showing up both the planned estate developments of the late 1930s and the more haphazard and bespoke building that preceded it, and this leads to the Troc and the Terminus, already mentioned here, before joining the A47 and Uppingham Road for the Red Route to the city. The shopping parade along here has seen a lot of family custom over the years, from Nando's the Barber (spoiling the Chicken restaurant in my mind forever) to the Hong Kong (the Chinese restaurant that was a favourite until becoming takeaway only last year), before we go a bit more Victorian Residential past Coleman Road, the sort of townhouses which I always desired way back when. Pass the site of Humberstone station on the GNR Leicester extension, where the station house remains, and on into the empire of takeaways on the latter portion of Uppingham Road, ending by Swallow Park, The Uppingham Hotel (the pub being an Islamic school these days) and The Shaftesbury (a lost cinema that still names the junction). Continue on as the A47 crosses the Willow Brook and becomes Humberstone Road, and beyond the terraces, the Merlyn Vaz health centre is the major new arrival in these parts, and a telling indication of changing times is noting the second-hand electrical retail store occupying a shop which once sold Pianos. Pass under the Midland Main Line, and the site of Humberstone Road station (the building now preserved at Shenton), and some of the industrial buildings to the south are worthy of note, the ones to the north (and the St Matthews Estate) rather less so, but you do have to love the name of Lesta Packaging PLC, don't you?
A Summer week off from work, and I'm off Down Country because it's July, and not feeling the need to attempt the 30+ miles that I did last year, so this time around we are scaling back the wandering so that the stamina might last a bit longer as the warm months press on, and it sure looks like we've got a few hot days on the immediate horizon so modest distances are a given. Rather than heading for the countryside, it's good to start with a city walk, as Leicester's centre has still to drop onto my schedule, and an early start from the East is due so the trail might be done before lunch time, departing my chosen local start point of Abbot's Road URC at 9.05am, and setting course along Scraptoft Lane. Always felt that this was a good road for illustrating the development of suburbia in the early 20th century, showing up both the planned estate developments of the late 1930s and the more haphazard and bespoke building that preceded it, and this leads to the Troc and the Terminus, already mentioned here, before joining the A47 and Uppingham Road for the Red Route to the city. The shopping parade along here has seen a lot of family custom over the years, from Nando's the Barber (spoiling the Chicken restaurant in my mind forever) to the Hong Kong (the Chinese restaurant that was a favourite until becoming takeaway only last year), before we go a bit more Victorian Residential past Coleman Road, the sort of townhouses which I always desired way back when. Pass the site of Humberstone station on the GNR Leicester extension, where the station house remains, and on into the empire of takeaways on the latter portion of Uppingham Road, ending by Swallow Park, The Uppingham Hotel (the pub being an Islamic school these days) and The Shaftesbury (a lost cinema that still names the junction). Continue on as the A47 crosses the Willow Brook and becomes Humberstone Road, and beyond the terraces, the Merlyn Vaz health centre is the major new arrival in these parts, and a telling indication of changing times is noting the second-hand electrical retail store occupying a shop which once sold Pianos. Pass under the Midland Main Line, and the site of Humberstone Road station (the building now preserved at Shenton), and some of the industrial buildings to the south are worthy of note, the ones to the north (and the St Matthews Estate) rather less so, but you do have to love the name of Lesta Packaging PLC, don't you?
Monday, 11 July 2016
Selby to York 10/07/16
15.8 miles, via Barlby, Riccall, Naburn, Bishopthorpe, Knavesmire & The City Walls.
Saturday drops from the schedule as the weather looks gross and I'm really in need of a lie in, but I've still got a timetable to maintain so footfalls have to come on the Sunday, which requires some creative transport usage to get eastwards, and unlocking a travel achievement as we go, having now departed from all 17 of the platforms at Leeds station, checking off the elusive and rarely used #14 on this morning. So back to Selby for a 10.15am start, with a six hour walking window ahead of me and a day that looks distinctly changeable in the air, ready to burn another track to York as the last of the major railway paths in the locality is to be found out here, but there'll be a few miles to go before we get there, so early steps are made to Ousegate and on over the river to find a different, non-A19 track through New Barlby, rising onto the flood embankment around the backs of the council houses to see rather a lot of vegetation and little of the river itself. It's a theme that persists as the path takes us past the towering flour mills and eyes are cast to the river to take in what must be remnants of docks which once served them, a small crane being the most interesting relic seen atop the former landing stages. Pass around the back of the small council estate at the bottom edge of Barlby, but this supposed riverside walk isn't offering much that isn't vegetation, so steps are made across the field to York Road, arriving at about the point I left it when I passed through last year, to take a proper look at the village, the best course of action as picking up the railway route would involve pacing the side of the A19 bypass. It's an altogether odd place, with an old core around Barlby Hall, along with a spread of suburbia and council houses at both bottom and top, but lacking a pub and a church, and it's still growing too, a field being claimed for new developments when I'd figure that everyone should know the folly of wanting to live on the Selby Levels these days. Still onto the superseded main road on the path north, past Turnhead Farm and finally getting some railway relics with the crossing houses at Sand Lane and Newgrove farm, before the A19 is met, still sat on the alignment of the old ECML and with an independent cyclepath for us slow travellers, and it's an odd thought to ponder that 'Flying Scotsman', 'Mallard' and the Deltics all used to consider this line home.
Saturday drops from the schedule as the weather looks gross and I'm really in need of a lie in, but I've still got a timetable to maintain so footfalls have to come on the Sunday, which requires some creative transport usage to get eastwards, and unlocking a travel achievement as we go, having now departed from all 17 of the platforms at Leeds station, checking off the elusive and rarely used #14 on this morning. So back to Selby for a 10.15am start, with a six hour walking window ahead of me and a day that looks distinctly changeable in the air, ready to burn another track to York as the last of the major railway paths in the locality is to be found out here, but there'll be a few miles to go before we get there, so early steps are made to Ousegate and on over the river to find a different, non-A19 track through New Barlby, rising onto the flood embankment around the backs of the council houses to see rather a lot of vegetation and little of the river itself. It's a theme that persists as the path takes us past the towering flour mills and eyes are cast to the river to take in what must be remnants of docks which once served them, a small crane being the most interesting relic seen atop the former landing stages. Pass around the back of the small council estate at the bottom edge of Barlby, but this supposed riverside walk isn't offering much that isn't vegetation, so steps are made across the field to York Road, arriving at about the point I left it when I passed through last year, to take a proper look at the village, the best course of action as picking up the railway route would involve pacing the side of the A19 bypass. It's an altogether odd place, with an old core around Barlby Hall, along with a spread of suburbia and council houses at both bottom and top, but lacking a pub and a church, and it's still growing too, a field being claimed for new developments when I'd figure that everyone should know the folly of wanting to live on the Selby Levels these days. Still onto the superseded main road on the path north, past Turnhead Farm and finally getting some railway relics with the crossing houses at Sand Lane and Newgrove farm, before the A19 is met, still sat on the alignment of the old ECML and with an independent cyclepath for us slow travellers, and it's an odd thought to ponder that 'Flying Scotsman', 'Mallard' and the Deltics all used to consider this line home.
Sunday, 3 July 2016
Tadcaster to Selby 02/07/16
15.2 miles, via Kirkby Wharfe, Ulleskelf, Ozendyke, Ryther, Cawood & Wistow.
Arriving at the High Street bus stop in Tadcaster, it looks a lot like the weather that I left here last weekend has only just passed, which is odd as you wouldn't think you could fit all this rain into the weekends when the other days have provided so much shirtsleeves weather. Anyway, it seems like it's impossible to get out here early in the day, not getting my start until 9.55am has passed, and I wonder just how many more times I might be pacing my way up Bridge Street before this season passes, having been here four times in the last month, and the ghost town is soon to be left behind as the path takes me to the riverfront once again. Pace past the 2016 footbridge, as there'll be no criss-crossing the Wharfe on this third and final leg, taking the tree lined avenue out to the east, detouring around the house on the bank, and past the local plating fields (where all the town's sounds of life are to be heard) and on to the embankment path, onwards under the A64 and the last crossing point on the river for foot passengers and rubber tired vehicles. The hiss of rain continues as the river winds on, these lowest stretches of the Wharfe being a completely unknown quantity to me, and this feels a lot like a path I might have to myself, aside from the company of the odd dog walker and a number of roaming sheep. Pass over the sluice at the outspill of Cock Beck, finally encountered after so many appearances elsewhere, and this must be where the Wharfe ran red with blood in 1461, if the chroniclers are to be believed, and the eye does wander some to seek any landscape interest as the flat lands head east, and you stop looking west to the receding town and the hills at the edge of West Yorkshire. Grimston Park spreads out to the south, but offers little more than a lot of trees, despite the relative proximity of the house, and the only other habitation in the area is Ouston Farm, distant on the other bank, so it's time to watch the livestock and waterfowl along the way as the last hiss of rain passes over, ending just as we meet the hamlet of Kirkby Wharfe. It's a pretty modest place, set just far enough from the river to be off piste, and well hidden by many trees, but the tower of St John the Baptist peeks out to give a first bit of landscape interest since the start of the day.
Arriving at the High Street bus stop in Tadcaster, it looks a lot like the weather that I left here last weekend has only just passed, which is odd as you wouldn't think you could fit all this rain into the weekends when the other days have provided so much shirtsleeves weather. Anyway, it seems like it's impossible to get out here early in the day, not getting my start until 9.55am has passed, and I wonder just how many more times I might be pacing my way up Bridge Street before this season passes, having been here four times in the last month, and the ghost town is soon to be left behind as the path takes me to the riverfront once again. Pace past the 2016 footbridge, as there'll be no criss-crossing the Wharfe on this third and final leg, taking the tree lined avenue out to the east, detouring around the house on the bank, and past the local plating fields (where all the town's sounds of life are to be heard) and on to the embankment path, onwards under the A64 and the last crossing point on the river for foot passengers and rubber tired vehicles. The hiss of rain continues as the river winds on, these lowest stretches of the Wharfe being a completely unknown quantity to me, and this feels a lot like a path I might have to myself, aside from the company of the odd dog walker and a number of roaming sheep. Pass over the sluice at the outspill of Cock Beck, finally encountered after so many appearances elsewhere, and this must be where the Wharfe ran red with blood in 1461, if the chroniclers are to be believed, and the eye does wander some to seek any landscape interest as the flat lands head east, and you stop looking west to the receding town and the hills at the edge of West Yorkshire. Grimston Park spreads out to the south, but offers little more than a lot of trees, despite the relative proximity of the house, and the only other habitation in the area is Ouston Farm, distant on the other bank, so it's time to watch the livestock and waterfowl along the way as the last hiss of rain passes over, ending just as we meet the hamlet of Kirkby Wharfe. It's a pretty modest place, set just far enough from the river to be off piste, and well hidden by many trees, but the tower of St John the Baptist peeks out to give a first bit of landscape interest since the start of the day.
Sunday, 26 June 2016
Harewood to Tadcaster 25/06/16
17.7 miles, via The Fitts, Woodhall Bridge, Lime Kiln Wood, Linton, Wetherby,
Thorpe Arch, Boston Spa & Newton Kyme.
I could not say I was a happy camper with the rising of this new day, far too much ugliness arriving in this land to have me feeling especially positive, but despite that the walking must continue as it's good for my mental health and it would be folly to waste the first weekend of Summer because I'm feeling miserable, so get out of the house whilst the sun shines, early as can be managed because you know this is going to be a long day. So off the #36 bus in Harewood after 9.20am, far too early to be dropping in on my local friends for a pre-walk brew, and the early portion of the day can be burned retracing steps down the hillside from last weekend, and Fitts Lane offers inviting views to the east as passage is made once again on the Ebor Way, the least loved of all the northern long distance paths. Clear illustration of its lack of popularity is gained once the riverside path is met, with the track to Harewood bridge being tidily trimmed and the path east, along the boundaries of the low fields known as The Fitts, being overgrown with spring vegetation and long grass, so the early going isn't particularly easy. Press on among the riverside plants though, the way just clear enough to not get sketchy, and only drifting a bit too close to the high bank of the Wharfe on a couple of occasions, and it all feels pleasingly remote as it describes a long curve eastwards, with the Harewood bank slowly receding and the hamlet of Netherby on the north bank offering not much sight of habitation, the most obvious signs of life being on the slopes of the Stockton Hill Climb off to the south. I'm nearly an hour into the day when I get sent word from my Harewood friends, mildly astonished at my capacity for an early start, and I'll promise to one day manage a proper drop in, despite passing through the village three times this year, and not having dropped in in 4 years. Carthick Wood provides some tree cover and pushes the path ridiculously close to the high bank too, showing clear signs of crumblage in the wake of the Festive Season floods, and despite its presence on the map, I find it hard to believe that there is a bridleway crossing a viable ford somewhere down there.
Thorpe Arch, Boston Spa & Newton Kyme.
I could not say I was a happy camper with the rising of this new day, far too much ugliness arriving in this land to have me feeling especially positive, but despite that the walking must continue as it's good for my mental health and it would be folly to waste the first weekend of Summer because I'm feeling miserable, so get out of the house whilst the sun shines, early as can be managed because you know this is going to be a long day. So off the #36 bus in Harewood after 9.20am, far too early to be dropping in on my local friends for a pre-walk brew, and the early portion of the day can be burned retracing steps down the hillside from last weekend, and Fitts Lane offers inviting views to the east as passage is made once again on the Ebor Way, the least loved of all the northern long distance paths. Clear illustration of its lack of popularity is gained once the riverside path is met, with the track to Harewood bridge being tidily trimmed and the path east, along the boundaries of the low fields known as The Fitts, being overgrown with spring vegetation and long grass, so the early going isn't particularly easy. Press on among the riverside plants though, the way just clear enough to not get sketchy, and only drifting a bit too close to the high bank of the Wharfe on a couple of occasions, and it all feels pleasingly remote as it describes a long curve eastwards, with the Harewood bank slowly receding and the hamlet of Netherby on the north bank offering not much sight of habitation, the most obvious signs of life being on the slopes of the Stockton Hill Climb off to the south. I'm nearly an hour into the day when I get sent word from my Harewood friends, mildly astonished at my capacity for an early start, and I'll promise to one day manage a proper drop in, despite passing through the village three times this year, and not having dropped in in 4 years. Carthick Wood provides some tree cover and pushes the path ridiculously close to the high bank too, showing clear signs of crumblage in the wake of the Festive Season floods, and despite its presence on the map, I find it hard to believe that there is a bridleway crossing a viable ford somewhere down there.
Sunday, 19 June 2016
Ilkley to Harewood 18/06/16
16.8 miles, via Denton Park, Askwith, Weston Park, Otley, Pool Bridge, Castley & Weeton.
The Spring - Summer transition offers us long days, but cooler than those to come, so it's a fine time to get some long days on the trail, and it's been an age since I gave proper attention to Lower Wharfedale, still missing from my schedule for some reason, and heading out to Ilkley feels like visiting an old friend that I haven't seen in a while, a home from home in 2013 and not seen since, so let's get busy with the bottom half of the Wharfe, it deserves the attention after three years away. Off the train at 9.30am, and the sights of Brook Street and New Brook Street are still familiar, going down the steps to Ilkley Park and setting off along the riverside path, under the bridge and westwards, a direction not previously travelled, with allotments, semis and terraces facing the Wharfe before we slip into wooded seclusion alongside the cemetery. Altogether too short a stretch before we are forced to change sides, over the 1934 chain-link suspension bridge, and to join the many cyclists on the north bank using Denton Road, a riverside lane that hides the water behind a bank of trees and offers few substantial views to the north, but still preferable to attempting the stepping stones crossing (with a huge gap in the middle) or the far too narrow Denton Bridge. Quieter going beyond there but keep away from Denton as the road wanders away from the river and its quite a surprise to shift onto the front lawn of Denton Hall, finally giving us something to see in the north, and Low Park Road provides views south to the bulk of Rombalds Moor and its ever-evolving profile. As the lane becomes West Lane, it rises further away from the valley floor and the welcome sunshine gives more definition to the southern views, as well as teasing the distant Otley Chevin, whilst my feel for the locations of southern Wharfedale seems to be instinctively good, so all the time spent over on that side wasn't wasted. Arrive in the village of Askwith, to find it quite large and strung out along the lane, superbly picturesque and an ideal spot for elevenses if it wasn't for a complete lack of benches, so paces continue on, too early for watering at the Askwith Arms and so downhill again, with the fields to the north suggesting manorial park land that has recently turned to agriculture, and that does seem to be a recurrent theme on this northern side of Wharfedale.
The Spring - Summer transition offers us long days, but cooler than those to come, so it's a fine time to get some long days on the trail, and it's been an age since I gave proper attention to Lower Wharfedale, still missing from my schedule for some reason, and heading out to Ilkley feels like visiting an old friend that I haven't seen in a while, a home from home in 2013 and not seen since, so let's get busy with the bottom half of the Wharfe, it deserves the attention after three years away. Off the train at 9.30am, and the sights of Brook Street and New Brook Street are still familiar, going down the steps to Ilkley Park and setting off along the riverside path, under the bridge and westwards, a direction not previously travelled, with allotments, semis and terraces facing the Wharfe before we slip into wooded seclusion alongside the cemetery. Altogether too short a stretch before we are forced to change sides, over the 1934 chain-link suspension bridge, and to join the many cyclists on the north bank using Denton Road, a riverside lane that hides the water behind a bank of trees and offers few substantial views to the north, but still preferable to attempting the stepping stones crossing (with a huge gap in the middle) or the far too narrow Denton Bridge. Quieter going beyond there but keep away from Denton as the road wanders away from the river and its quite a surprise to shift onto the front lawn of Denton Hall, finally giving us something to see in the north, and Low Park Road provides views south to the bulk of Rombalds Moor and its ever-evolving profile. As the lane becomes West Lane, it rises further away from the valley floor and the welcome sunshine gives more definition to the southern views, as well as teasing the distant Otley Chevin, whilst my feel for the locations of southern Wharfedale seems to be instinctively good, so all the time spent over on that side wasn't wasted. Arrive in the village of Askwith, to find it quite large and strung out along the lane, superbly picturesque and an ideal spot for elevenses if it wasn't for a complete lack of benches, so paces continue on, too early for watering at the Askwith Arms and so downhill again, with the fields to the north suggesting manorial park land that has recently turned to agriculture, and that does seem to be a recurrent theme on this northern side of Wharfedale.
Sunday, 12 June 2016
Tadcaster to York 11/06/16
14.1 miles, via The Old Street, Street Houses, Bilbrough Top, Copmanthorpe, Bishopthorpe,
Middlethorpe Ings & The City Walls.
Nearly miss today's excursion because I was enjoying the sleep of the dead, so it's all a bit of a dash to get myself out of the house and onto the trail, not arriving at my start point until 10.55am, hopping off the Coastliner by St Mary's church having found the most convenient bus stop and avoiding an extra half mile of walking through Tadcaster. So first operation is to get over the Wharfe, not the straightforward task it used to be now that the bridge is out of use, but a footbridge has been constructed a short distance down stream so that the locals can now catch a bus to York or use the local Sainsbury's without needing a long odyssey across half the county. Good to see the bridge in place as the town really does have the feel of being brutally severed from half its populace, and our trail on the Ebor Way, the least loved of all of Yorkshire's paths (so neglected that even I am not interested in doing its complete length) has us heading up Commercial Street through the older part of East Tadcaster and on through to York Road, showing up this part as the more ordinarily residential half of the town, not that some of the breweries' tied houses don't have attractive faces. Press on to the countryside again, to the Toll Bar house and the tangle of roads as the A659 and the A64 merge, and the shortest route to York would be via the latter, but a trail by the dual carriageway would be no fun so the way leads us to Catterton Lane and a green and leafy road walk to pick up the trail along The Old Street, the former Roman road between Calcaria and Eboracum, and you might think it would be easy to find, but it's well hidden away from the field boundaries and deep into a strip of woodland. It's not fun going at all, dense and uncut vegetation stands waist deep and after all the inclement weather of the preceding few days means that I am soon soaked to the skin and walking in waterlogged boots before the first field is cleared, and despite clearer footing beyond, my spirits have sunken horribly, and if there hadn't been a clear dry track to the cluster of farm at Street Houses I might have considered bailing on arrival by the A64.
Middlethorpe Ings & The City Walls.
Nearly miss today's excursion because I was enjoying the sleep of the dead, so it's all a bit of a dash to get myself out of the house and onto the trail, not arriving at my start point until 10.55am, hopping off the Coastliner by St Mary's church having found the most convenient bus stop and avoiding an extra half mile of walking through Tadcaster. So first operation is to get over the Wharfe, not the straightforward task it used to be now that the bridge is out of use, but a footbridge has been constructed a short distance down stream so that the locals can now catch a bus to York or use the local Sainsbury's without needing a long odyssey across half the county. Good to see the bridge in place as the town really does have the feel of being brutally severed from half its populace, and our trail on the Ebor Way, the least loved of all of Yorkshire's paths (so neglected that even I am not interested in doing its complete length) has us heading up Commercial Street through the older part of East Tadcaster and on through to York Road, showing up this part as the more ordinarily residential half of the town, not that some of the breweries' tied houses don't have attractive faces. Press on to the countryside again, to the Toll Bar house and the tangle of roads as the A659 and the A64 merge, and the shortest route to York would be via the latter, but a trail by the dual carriageway would be no fun so the way leads us to Catterton Lane and a green and leafy road walk to pick up the trail along The Old Street, the former Roman road between Calcaria and Eboracum, and you might think it would be easy to find, but it's well hidden away from the field boundaries and deep into a strip of woodland. It's not fun going at all, dense and uncut vegetation stands waist deep and after all the inclement weather of the preceding few days means that I am soon soaked to the skin and walking in waterlogged boots before the first field is cleared, and despite clearer footing beyond, my spirits have sunken horribly, and if there hadn't been a clear dry track to the cluster of farm at Street Houses I might have considered bailing on arrival by the A64.
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