Post: This is an interesting evening excursion from Charlie’s home, with plenty of history. The local legend is that the unwary Scot was followed from the Cock Tavern in Blackrod, where he had been imbibing, to the desolate moor – now known as Winter Hill – after he had been boasting of his full wallet and his good fortune. So much for the residents of Blackrod.
Tuesday, June 16 Scotsmans Post
‘Ben’ a friend, and I had decided to try a little stunt tonight, and ‘Joe’ hearing of it, promised to accompany us. This is a footpath which runs over Winter Hill between Belmont and Bob’s Smithy, and which climbs to an altitude of 1,300 ft. We started at 7.15pm, picking up Joe at the ‘Three Pigeons’ pub. Just before dropping down into Belmont, we passed through a gate on the left, and there it started. The route was uphill, and exceedingly rough, being in the nature of a riverbed – only more so. After a hard climb, we reached the summit, but the views (which from here are normally very fine), were spoiled by mists. On the top, at 1,300 ft, we were able to ride a little until we came to the Scotsmans Post, an iron pillar, on which are the words;
‘In memory of George Henderson, traveller, native of Annan, Dumfrieshire who was barbarously murdered on Horwich Moor, on Monday, November 9th, 1838, in the 20th year of his life’.
This tragedy is one of the instances where murder did not out, the culprit was never discovered. From the Watermans cottages, the going became bad again, necessitating carrying the machines in places, We struggled on down a steep little dell, across a stream several times, and over huge boulders, coming in sight of the sugarloaf, a perfectly shaped hill of graceful outline standing isolated from the rest of the moors. Then we were able to ride a little until Joe fell off his bike and broke a gate. Chuckling over the humour of it, we reached the Bob’s Smithy road. I thought of the ‘63 steps’ footpath, and asked “What about it”? It met with approval, so we followed another track until we reached the famous flight of steps, where we hoisted the bikes on our shoulders and walked down. There is some local controversy about these steps, some say that there are 66, others say 61 etc. I forgot to count them.
Barrow Bridge would be quite a pretty spot if it had never become popular, but it is a notorious picnic place, and is therefore full of refreshment huts, swings, a boating lake, and host of chocolate machines or catch-pennies. From Barrow Bridge we rode along a ‘No Cycles Allowed’ road past Dobson’s chimney, supposed to be the highest yet in England, even though several feet have been taken off the top. Then a lot of streets, Halliwell road, and we returned to Bolton. If people only knew what fine scenery can be found around their native town, they would never grumble about ‘being cooped up’ all their lives in a town. 16 miles
