Post: The project today is to climb up the waterfalls at Gordale Scar, which they enjoyed. Could I perhaps mention that as a young member of the Rough Stuff Fellowship, many years ago, three of us struggled up that very steep fall with our bikes and lived to tell the tale. Yes really ! Most of our friends thought we had lost our senses, and my wife has always been of that opinion.
Sunday, October 18 Gordale Scar
We had decided on a run into Yorkshire, and I had to meet Tom at 7.30am in Bolton Town Centre, and Joe on Blackburn Road. Tom was there, but Joe, as usual, was not: you see it takes him an hour to pack up! After getting Joe sorted, the main road took us on to the top of the moors, and dropped us on paved roads through Darwen to Blackburn. Once we had shaken the last suburbs of that ‘hole’ away, we were in the open country, in the Ribble Valley. The sun was breaking out as we dropped down by Whalley Abbey to the river, and through the historical village. We avoided Clitheroe by taking the bylane through pretty little Pendleton to Chatburn. Again the main road – a winding beautiful road – the Skipton road, to Sawley, and up the noted ‘brow’. The road is very hilly from here, but retains some good scenery and outlooks. At Gisburn we turned for Hellifield, on the main road via Nappa, a road that is not pleasant in itself, but gave us, from its higher points, excellent views of the glorious limestone heights around Settle. Just before Hellifield is reached, the road runs on a shelf above the River Ribble, and is quite good.
When we reached the railway town, our first impulse was to get out of it, which we did, by steep, autumn coloured, narrow lanes to Airton, and another lane, very hilly and trying in the hot sunshine but with glittering spectacles of Malham Cove before us, through Kirkby Malham, reaching Malham none too soon – we all felt a bit fagged and a lot hungry.
We had lunch in the little shop, where it was cooler, than pottered along the steep road which drops precipitously to Gordale Beck. Leaving our bikes in a shed, we walked up the valley where the streams issue from the ground. Gordale Scar was new to Tom and Joe, and I could see by their faces that they were amazed at the sight, but when they got round the corner and saw the waterfall coming through the arch and over the cliffs, their amazement was still more pronounced. We stood gazing there for some time; it is something to gaze at, something which set me thinking of a great geological wonder, the Craven Fault, which, stretching from Kirkby Lonsdale to Knaresborough, has caused many wonderful curiosities of nature, as Malham Tarn and Cove, Gordale Scar, Sulber Nick etc. Surely, we argued, this district with its potholes and stalactite caves, waterfalls, moorlands and dales, and limestone heights, is worthy of more exploration than we had given it ! Yes, we must have more of it, weekends and days, for it is a country that we know little about.
We climbed the cliffs until we could look down through the natural arch, and with the arch as a frame, obtained a fine view down the Scar. Then we went up the shallowing dale, having a hard, hard time of it in climbing crags and negotiating the ever prevalent walls and railings, until we stood on the high moors, looking down towards Skipton, the ‘Capital of Craven’, over verdant, hilly fields and woods and high moorland ridges. On our return, we noticed above the Scar, that the ground was a veritable maze of deep, narrow channels, all natural and caused, we surmised, by the agency of water, which found the softest places in the limestone, and as centuries rolled by, gradually eroded these winding channels. Down again to Gordale Scar by means of a very steep slope of stones, which moved treacherously with a careless step, and innumerable little precipices, then back to the bikes, and across the Beck to Malham again. At a little shop in the village we got some picture postcards, and learned with chagrin that we had passed near Janet’s Foss, or Force, a fine waterfall on its way down to Aire Head, where Gordale Beck combines with Malham Beck, (which issues from the foot of Malham Cove) to start the infant River Aire.
We decided that the time was too late to try any detours, so returned to Hellifield by way of our outward route, and so to Gisburn. Instead of retracing the main roads, we took the lane route, a beautiful road, especially now, in Autumn, to the legend-loaded village of Rimington. I had broken my freewheel, and now, oh, how I wished that I had one on. A hot day and long downhill sweeps, trying to keep up to Tom and Joe who were on freewheels, on a gear of 59.8 is apt to get tiring. With grand views of the brown hills across the Ribble Valley, we peeped into pretty Downham, then sped down to Chatburn. The main road through Clitheroe was covered in a burst of speed, then from Whalley to Copster Green, where we met the club at Mrs Wood’s for tea. The road again, with many companions to Mellor Brook, where we branched off, in company with two of the biggest ‘bores’ – one of whom was loaded with the hateful red rear light. I had a row with him, but found that I might as well argue with an ass. Near Cherry Tree he got a puncture, so as Tom had to get back to Manchester, we left them. Poor Joe got stuck with them too! The dark road, which gets up on its hind legs conveyed us through Tockholes to Belmont, then down to Bolton. I left Tom on Manchester road, and came home with a mind to a weekend ‘over there’ next week but one. 102 miles
