It's a few days ago now but in the afternoon of New Year's Eve I headed out to the nearby moors with my trusty partner Sir Clint the Cantankerous. It's very familiar territory for me as I have walked every path and byway in this vicinity in all weathers and in all seasons.
Last Friday served up the warmest New Year's Eve on record in this part of the world. One hardy fellow walked by me in shorts and a T-shirt but I was wearing my Hull City manager's coat - one of the best clothing purchases I ever made.
I parked Clint in a small layby that I have used a few times before. Clint grumbled as I put my boots on and asked me to push in the driver's side wing mirror. "If you are more than two hours I'm driving home without you!" he warned.
But the walk didn't last so long - more like ninety minutes. I headed up to a rocky outcrop known as Over Owler Tor that sits up on the ridge. There were too many people around for my liking. I prefer to have those moors to myself. A family group came puffing up the hill from the Mother Cap outcrop. You could hear them from afar because every step of the way their lively and excited dog was being berated quite angrily - "Come 'ere! RUFUS! RUFUS! Come 'ere NOW!" This carried on as they explored the rocks - disturbing my peaceful contemplation and it continued as I walked away. Poor Rufus!
Over the last three decades, I have photographed Overstones Farm countless times. It sits photogenically below the millstone grit escarpment known as Stanage Edge. You can see it from afar in the top picture. And here it is - appearing much closer as I used the "zoom" button on my camera from more or less the same position...
Below there's a picture of Higger Tor - a rocky plateau that was also a defensive fort in distant times before the Romans invaded this island. In summer, the russet brown vegetation will be replaced by waist-high bracken - its green fronds dancing in playful synchronicity upon the breeze.
And here's Over Owler Tor, silhouetted against the western sky on the last day of the year. There's the tiny figure of a man on top. It might have been me or anybody else saying goodbye to 2021 and hoping for a less anxious 2022 when the coronavirus chains that have bound us may at least be slackened.
You'll have it to yourself if you go tomorrow. Don't forget ice axe, crampons, shovel, etc. Hull City manager's coat may be insufficient. May need North Ferriby manager's coat as well.
ReplyDeleteThank you for these practical tips Tasker.
DeleteWhat beautiful country!
ReplyDeleteWe are lucky to live so close to it.
DeleteI never get tired of going over old familiar trails. Of course, I'd never turn down the chance to walk a different trail.
ReplyDeletePreviously unvisited paths are always preferable to me - like opening a treasure chest you just found in the attic.
DeleteRather stark beauty and take out the buildings, it could sit comfortably in our own landscape.
ReplyDeleteGenerally speaking not quite as warm as your landscape.
DeleteA good way to end the old year YP. Nothing like an exhilarating walk in stunning scenery to blow the cobwebs away.
ReplyDeleteI gather from Tasker's comments that inclement weather is forecast?
Sir Clint the Cantankerous - an apt name for him - I like it!
Sometimes Carol the Cantankerous might be appropriate but more often it's probably Carol the Contented.
DeleteIt looks rugged, cold and even a little forbidding there. Makes me shiver.
ReplyDeletePS: sorry I missed your (in)famous awards ceremony. I bet it was a hoot.
Sadly the awards ceremony had to happen via "Zoom" because of you know what.
DeleteA beautiful set of pictures, with the lone person standing on the rock being my favourite. Very symbolic.
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about wanting a place to yourself. Some of my regular walks lead past places I consider to be mine, and whenever I spot others there, I feel indignation (knowing full well that Imhave no right to it and am being irrational).
It pains and angers me when people with dogs so clearly have no idea how to handle what should be their best four-legged companion.
Previous experience should have told them to keep Rufus on a lead.
DeleteSounds like one of my walks YP. Awesome photos.
ReplyDeleteAfter our moorland walk we could have called in at "The Norfolk Arms" for pints of foaming bitter and bags of pork scratchings.
DeleteI like old familiar trails that allow my mind to wander more freely.
ReplyDeleteThere are subtle delights in walking familiar routes. Nothing is ever quite the same.
DeleteIt occurs to me that our landscapes are so different that we might as well be on different planets.
ReplyDeletePuddings are from Mars, Moons are from Venus.
DeleteLovely photos to start my day. Thank you and you're a lucky man to have such fine weather to walk in.
ReplyDeleteWe have been blessed recently but today (6th Jan) has been duller and colder with flurries of light snow - more like Alberta in July.
DeleteHey! Taking potshots at Alberta while I'm sitting here, freezing my ass off is deeply unfair, even if it's true.
DeleteI like the word "tor", having learned it from doing crossword puzzles. Thanks for your lovely images to put with the word in my mind.
ReplyDeleteHappy to have been of service ma'am.
DeleteBlimey, "green fronds dancing in playful synchronicity". The hills are alive with the sound of poetry....
ReplyDeleteI heard of your blog award via Kylie. I had no idea blog awards still existed.
The Laughing Horse Awards have been in existence for many years - reaching right back into antiquity. The Awards Committee note that your blog dates back to 2007 and will soon be inspecting it in order to assess its merits.
DeleteWhat's the etymology of the word "tor"? Do you know? I suppose I could look it up but I'm testing your local knowledge. :)
ReplyDeleteI feel the same way about people when I'm on one of my walks. Of course if I'm on a city sidewalk I don't mind them but if I'm in the woods or on the Heath or (especially) out in the country I get annoyed!
In both Old English and Gaelic, "tor" meant a rocky mound or outcrop. It is a word that I associate more with Dartmoor in the south west of the country.
DeleteAn interesting post. I noticed that you mentioned that 'tor' was used in Scots Gaelic and my ears pricked up because I couldn't think of a single Tor in Scotland never mind in Gaeldom. Given that I was very familiar with the words and knew exactly what it meant it made me wonder how that was ingrained in me. The answer is that I can find no reason at all other than it was a word from my youth when I lived and walked in England. Language is a fascinating thing.
ReplyDelete