|Higger Tor viewed from Carl Wark|
It was a grey* day yesterday with a blanket of cloud obscuring the sun over northern England. Increasingly, I have tended to avoid rambling on such days as the light is not conducive to good photography. Everything appears washed out and dull. (*American "gray")
However, I was keen to get some exercise so I drove up to the moors about three miles from here to Upper Burbage Bridge. There I parked up and donned my walking boots before setting off down the valley.
There are millstone grit edges on both sides of the Burbage Valley and many rocks are strewn around - some placed there by nature and some discarded by quarrymen who once worked the edges - producing building blocks, kerbstones and grindstones.
A mile down the valley, at the little stone bridge that crosses the stream I talked to two women who were walking their border collie. The bridge was once on a packhorse route that crossed the spine of England long before paved roads and motor vehicles came along. How delightful that it remains.
|At the old packhorse bridge|
Up to Carl Wark which I have mentioned previously in this blog. It is a rocky moorland plateau that once functioned as an Iron Age hillfort - 2500 years ago. Nature provided it with three rocky sides and at the exposed western side they built a wall and ditches. It is believed that the hillfort was also used by Romans though archaeological evidence to support this theory is very thin.
|The western defensive wall - Carl Wark|
There were some schoolchildren around. Some were holding clipboards and others were in helmets and red overalls learning rock climbing techniques. I heard the instructor saying, "Listen will you!" with a touch of annoyance in her voice. Naturally I put my camera back in its case while the kids were nearby as I had no intention of being accused of vicarious paedophilia. "Miss! Miss! That man took a photo of us!"
Up on to Higger Tor. Similar to Carl Wark but larger. If I had been an Iron Age chieftain I would have picked Higger Tor for my hillfort instead - but maybe he had two fortified places. They are quite close to each other.
Back along the path that skirts the valley and there ahead was the little car park. I sat in the car for a while reading my book. I am up to page 265 now. A thin rain was squeezed from the cloud blanket and soon I travelled home to prepare the evening meal. Roasted onions, peppers and tomatoes. Steamed salmon and fresh tagliatelle in a green pesto sauce. Parmesan grated over and a few sprigs of rocket then a wedge of lemon for the salmon. Traditional wholesome Yorkshire food.
|Carl Wark's rocky edge under a grey sky|