Harrison Stickle. With only the sheep to keep me company in the gloomy mist. I’ve climbed Harrison Stickle before, particularly on this very day 37 years ago. The weather was a lot clearer then. My training and Karrimor partner, Peter, and I had set off from in front of the Moot Hall in Keswick an hour or so before dawn. We were following in the footsteps of Bob Graham, a Borrowdale hotelier who in 1932 completed a circuit of 42 Lake District fells within 24 hours; his “long walk”: 72 miles with 27,000 feet of climb. That record was to stand until Alan Heaton broke it in 1960 thus creating the challenge of the Bob Graham Round. Harrison Stickle is the 21st summit on the round, so I guess we would have been about half way round.
Our plan was an early start climbing Skiddaw in the dark and finish off on Robinson at dusk. Maximising the hours of daylight running. Even back in 1979 attempts on the Bob Graham Round usually involved pacers and support. Bob Graham himself had had four pacers. Peter and I eschewed all that preferring to be self supported, carrying our own food and waterproofs and navigating ourselves – we hadn’t done any recceing just relying on our knowledge gained from fell races. But my Dad did offer to support us, so there he was waiting for us at Thelkeld after completing the Northern Fells section.
Now my Dad’s idea of support was based upon his crossing of the Lyke Wake Walk in ’68. I was 16 at the time, and with a party of 40+ from the Nottinghamshire section of the Camping Club. It was my first foray into Yorkshire hills, real hills, not the rippled White Peak of Derbyshire. We had set off from Osmotherley at midnight aiming for a sub 24 hours crossing. Breakfast at Clay Bank was a full English provided by the mothers and wives of the party. (Long distance walking was mostly a male affair). Lunch at Rosedale Head and dinner at Wheeldale Beck were each banquets. Each of these stops took well in excess of two hours hence the reason why we only just managed to get to Ravenscar before midnight. It was so frustrating being confined to the speed of the most injured, which happened to be Dad. Never again I said, next time I would do it on my own. That day was to kickstart my love of fast lightweight excursions into the hills and mountains.
Anyway so my Dad’s idea of support was a three course meal. Sorry Dad can’t stop. We grabbed what we could carry and ate on the hoof up Clough Head. At Dunmail Raise Dad had got the idea and just opened the boot and took the lids off the cake boxes. But I did feel guilty about stopping for only five minutes.
I was also concerned that Dad’s ageing Hillman Hunter might struggle tackling Wynose and Hardknott Passes. My own experience with my Mini shooting brake (the estate model with a wooden frame) over these passes was still fresh in my mind. It kept jumping out of 1st gear so I had to hold it in and pray. So I persuaded Dad to give Wasdale a miss and meet us next at Honistor.
I don’t remember much more about the day. It was clear, not too hot. At Mickledore neither Peter nor I were confident enough to climb Broad Stand without ropes. It had a reputation. So Foxes Tarn it had to be. Just after midnight Peter and I ran back into Keswick. A couple of hours or so within the 24 hour time limit. A good day on the fells.
But for those who want a more scenic photo of Harrison Stickle, better revert back to yesterday’s post.
The elusive trig point fairy has been and given Roseberry’s pillar a lick of paint. A fresh clean canvas for the graffiti artists. I happen to know the fairy goes by the name of Ray (no aspersion intended) and he lives in Great Ayton, the village just visible through the low cloud.
John, one of my regular readers, put me onto this. It’s a dressed sandstone stone at the corner of Sunny Bank Plantation at the foot of Clay Bank. The inscription says “NOV 1906 PENSHURST ACORN”. The wording occupied my thoughts on my cycle home. A boundary stone? But sandstone boundary stones are more usual on the high moors and a few generations earlier. I can not think of any 20th century boundary stones on the moors. Back home Google came up with some clues.
In Penshurst Place, in Kent there is, or was, a very famous oak tree called the Sidney Oak after Sir Philip Sidney, a prominent Elizabethan soldier, poet and courtier. I say was because it finally succumbed to old age only last year, reputed to be 1,000 years old. Does the stone mark the spot where an acorn from the Penshurst Sidney Oak was planted? There is no oak tree now growing underneath the shade of an overgrown spruce.
But is there a connection between this odd corner of Ingleby Greenhow and Penshurst Place. Well yes, in the mid 19th century, Lady Mary Foulis, only child and heiress of the last Foulis baronet, Lord of the Manor of Ingleby Greenhow, married the 2nd Lord de Lisle & Dudley of Penshurst Castle, who was a descendant of the said Sir Philip Sydney. So the two estates came to belong to the same family.
Apparently there are another 4 or 5 similar stones in the neighbourhood. I wonder if those acorns have had more success.
For those who like a scenic posting, there is a fine view of Roseberry from the stone looking almost due north, unfortunately that spruce tree prevented me from getting it as a backdrop, so a bonus today:
A break in the clouds. The bell heather is passed its best. The ling is beginning to bloom. It’s going to be a fine day. A view from Easby Bank.
Sixty five years ago the North York Moors National Park was created to ensure that its landscape, wildlife, and cultural heritage was protected and cared for and will remain conserved for future generations. Their website says “its a place where the landscape and way of life is respected and understood”. I am therefore disappointed that the Park have allowed the high moors above Westerdale, to be desecrated by the erection of this excrescence.
Entitled ‘Seated Figure’ it is a three metres tall painted bronze sculpture by Sean Henry that has been commissioned by The David Ross Foundation. Supposedly it’s a temporary piece of “public art” that will be removed after five years. I look forward to that day although I have my doubts that it will happen.
As a sculpture I must admit it is good and would certainly enhance Redcar sea front or Middlesbrough but surely not a National Park. I don’t want to see the moors turned into a theme park.
Up on Lord’s Seat above Whinlatter this morning in the rain and mist missing my DoE group by a hundred metres. I bagged Barf which is a new one for me but ended up back at the van wet and bedraggled then realised I hadn’t even gotten my camera out. Into Keswick and even the shops weren’t doing much business. Still a clear view of the 19th century Moot Hall which dominates the town square.
A secluded grassy dale in the National Trust property of Bridestones.