Blog

***Photos that relate to the blog appear in the Galleries, ‘The Last Two Weeks’***

14 June 2013

Following on from last week, the backlog of images to sort though has been quite daunting. I am not half way through them a week after my return. So rather than rush, I have decided to work steadily through them and perhaps just jump them straight into a folder in the travels section.

One of my companions had taken deliver of his new car the day before, so this was our opportunity to try it out. I’ll pickup my story in Easingwold.

One thing you do notice is how the fields have come on during the last couple of weeks. The patches of yellow Rape on the hillsides stood out now, against the grey threatening sky. Barley has matured with seed heads filling with grain between the long thin awns. As we drove towards Malton, passing through Hovingham, we came across a village called Appleton-le-Street. In a field of yellow rape stood an old barn with red pan tiled roof. The sky was dark with the predicted rain, but a patch of sun just fell on top of this ‘vision’. This was worth turning round for.

We continued into Malton and a break at the Market Place Café. We discovered they do very posh afternoon teas. The tables were being laid with the best China and tea strainers. The feast includes everything you can imaging, sandwiches to cakes, including Champagne! It’s gone down so well they are full and pre booking is required.

We left Malton heading for Pickering turning of the Whitby Road dropping into Levisham and the railway station on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway. By pure chance two steam trains were due in. The first to arrive was pulled by locomotive 45428 (Reverend) Eric Tracy. Named after a previous Bishop of Wakefield and a well know photographer of railway trains. The second train was running late, but since it was coming up the single-track line from Pickering everything had to wait. This engine was the 60007 Sir Nigel Gresley, sister to the Mallard the locomotive that has held the world steam speed record of 126 mph since 1938. What a boon. Disappointingly the loco was travelling tender first.

After both had left, we headed north following the ridge above the railway. We missed out Goathland, but dropped into Grosmont. The station was quite full. Here the North Yorkshire Moors Heritage railway meets the main line to Whitby. Perhaps that’s why the parking fee was £5 with no options or reduction for the time you stay.

As we mingled on the platform one train headed out for Whitby and shortly after that in came the Sir Nigel Gresley. It turned out she/he wasn’t going to Whitby but was to be put back at the head of the train for the return to Pickering. This would mean that the loco would be the ‘right way round’.

Whilst waiting we though we would take a tea break in the station refreshment rooms. It closed at 4.30 pm and it was all but that time. Never mind, they served us and let us alone to enjoy our cuppa. How many would have turned us away with so little time to go.

We now crossed country heading into Rosedale, dropping down into the village by a stone cross, then climbing up the chimney passing the arched remains of the iron works. The sun didn’t favour us and we moved on to Hutton-le-Hole, the ‘chocolate box top’ village, for dinner at The Crown.

The menu was good pub food, but the prices were inflated. Tourism!
Our route back took us by the WWII airfield at Wombelton, through Nunnington and Hovingham, back to Easingwold via Crake, Alne, Aldward Bridge passing south of Knaresborough. The forecast was for showers. We managed to side step all but one.

A brief stop at Leeds Bradford Airport finished that day off with a landing towards dusk. The car is lovely and there is nothing like the aroma of a new car.


7 June 2013

I have been in Amsterdam for a week and haven’t had time to gather my thoughts or sort through the couple of thousand photographs I have taken. Fingers crossed I should have some soon.


31 May 2013

Back to winter. When will the heating go off. I tried it earlier in the week, but relented and turned the boiler back on. They say that this could be the coldest spring for years. Don’t need a meteorologist to tell us that.

We have had some sun, but a keen wind has tempered things. I foolishly went out without a coat in full sun, and nearly had a dose of hypothermia – in mid May!

The wildlife extravaganza has continued, with visits form the fox’s and cubs in the garden. The bird table has been a busy place and the Jay is still calling in. Time to sit and wait has been a bit of an issue.

Mid week the ‘summer’ walk was called off due to rain. I felt like I needed to get out, as unlike some I don’t tend to melt in the precipitation. I made a return to Pudsey and Booths Yard. This is a cobbled street, neigh alley surrounded by stone shops and a pub. The rain continued which left the cobbles glistening even though it was verging on darkness.

Later in the week the weather wasn’t too friendly, but a possible promise of better to come. We set off west through Menston towards Keighley. We skirted that town on the ridge above through Riddlesdon, droping down to cross the Leeds Liverpool canal at Farnhill, then to the horrendous junction with the A629, where other drivers ‘take no prisoners’. We crossed over heading towards Cononley taking the Skipton Road in the village. Running parallel to the river Aire, we ended up on the outskirts of Skipton. We again turned east to Broughton, then north following our noses we somehow turning up at Long Preston, further north than we had intended, as we were to call in at the Railways Station Café at Hellifield. To avoid backtracking we moved off towards Settle.

A visit to the Singing Kettle Café was to bring a couple of pleasant surprises. When we walked in and sat down, I noticed two women on the next table. One had her back to me but was familiar, the other had two children. The woman facing me mentioned Aunty Sheila in conversation with one of the children. Near confirmation. I only had to wait for a short time, for them to start making preparations to leave when I saw her face on and could hear her voice. It was a boss from work, Sheila Spencer. As the introductions had barely begun, the younger woman pointed at one of my companions, saying he had been the photographer at a relatives wedding at a church in Horsforth. Such a small world! I was aware Sheila lived in Reeth. I had optimistically kept an eye out for her or her husband on the many occasions I had passed through the village. It had all been in vain as it transpired they had moved, to the dark side, sorry Lancashire. Sheila was one of the better bosses to work for and was always kind and considerate.

After we had a walk round town. In one of the sweet shops I spied some liquorice root. This is the root from which the black confectionary is extracted. Pontefract where I went to school is famous for it’s production, still having two factories making Pomfret or Pontefract Cakes. In the countryside about and even in the castle bailey, the plant was grown and I understand has recently been reintroduced. The root has all the appearance of a ‘stick’ of wood. But when chewed the fibrous roots give up there secret. Or at least this is the idea. This stuff I bought had the appearance and texture of a stick and solidly resisted giving up much of the taste. It was to all intent and purpose a stick!

From Settle we headed North passing Pen y Ghent. Again covered in low cloud. Through Horton in Ribblesdale to Ribble Head, turning left towards Hawes well into the familiar tram tracks. In Hawes over the river onto the Buttertubs which were shrouded in low cloud. It was hard to keep track of where you were, until the odd landmark popped out of the fog confirming were you were. As we dropped into Thwaite the fog lifted or should I say thinned to a light mist. We turned right up Swaledale a brief stop at the tripod holes at ‘Joe Cornish’s ‘ barn, then up towards Wain Wath Force. Until we met the traffic jam, road works and traffic lights. Okay the jam was only a couple of cars, but in the Dales this takes up the proportions of city rush hour. We turned right over the new bridge and stopped to look up the river to the falls. Happenstance forced me to look at the falls from a different viewpoint, which was good.

On we climbed, now back in the mist to Tan Hill. Suddenly out of the fog appeared a host of four wheeled drive vehicles, lining the road on both sides. Up to the pub then right towards Reeth, the cars were everywhere. Apparently Tan Hill has it’s own market or show and farmers come for miles. We could see ‘sod all’ due to the mist, but that’s Tan Hill.

We weaved our way though parked vehicles and on coming traffic, okay I exaggerate again, but then started the long run down to Reeth. We saw nothing of the expected wildlife, as it must all have been tucked up in bed.

Down and down, we eventually ended up in Reeth and a coffee at the Copper Kettle Café.

We started across towards Leyburn. On the army shooting ranges on the moors just before the town, some wild goose with goslings were wandering round the safe haven beyond the red flags.

We passed through Leyburn, now heading south for Ripon and dinner in the same fish and chip restaurant as last week Drakes. All agreed a good meal once again.

Alas the light wasn’t good for photography so from here it was a straight run home.



25 May 2013

Mid week I went on a completely uninspiring walk in Golden Acre Park, the sun was out the company was congenial, but I may have been suffering from the photographers equivalent to writers block.

The highlight of the week was having my garden wrecked. Plant pots overturned, compost spread all over, bedding plants stolen and just general mayhem. I’m no gardener, but it is good to see it at least tidy. Well we discovered the culprits, catching them red handed. Four fox cubs, larking around. Rolling, play fighting, hiding under the shrubbery, for one of their brothers or sisters to pass by, then leaping on them. Standing on the pots, eating the meagre greenery. Playing, chase round between the shrubbery. The next visit was a pair of cubs with a young adult. Eating any peanuts dislodged from the feeding table by the birds or squirrels. They appear to visiting at dawn or dusk. We did see five possibly six, but we suspect this was a joint visit by both skulks.

The squirrels have stated visiting in threes. Two fight and chase, whilst the third takes the spoils.

We have had the opportunity to see a young Jay growing. A very, very timid bird, but I caught him on camera, whilst waiting for the foxes.

I’ll start my weekly trip by crossing the toll bridge at Aldwark Bridge. The 40 p charge is well worth it, as the alternative is miles of travelling to the next crossing of the river Ure. The bridge is single file and wooden plates of the deck rattle disconcertingly as you cross. Over the bridge we turn east to Linton on Ouse, more specifically the RAF station, which trains fast jet pilots for the air force and the navy. The Tucano trainer aircraft were out doing fast steep turns over the farthest runway then landing and taxing round to our side. I hadn’t noticed the White Horse at Kilburn on the hills beyond until today, so I made sure I had a shot, which included it. Two large helicopters were parked on the tarmac, which was a new sight.

Through the village crossing the river Kyle into Newton on Ouse turning north to the crossroads at Alne. On that junction is the ‘plague cross’ an ancient place to leave food and the payment to avoid cross contamination during medieval outbreaks.

Talk in the car had been of tomatos from the supermarket and their current lack of taste. Coincidentally we came across the barrow, which is always set out on the junction in the centre of the village, to sell local produce. The idea of the plague cross lives on without the pestilance, but with the honesty box. The stallholder was restocking with amongst other things, leeks and punnets of tiny tomatoes. The offer of a ‘taste’ resulted in two purchases and an consensus that they were superior to the supermarket variety.

Our next stop was just outside Easingwold, on the road to Crayke. A café come art centre in farm buildings know as the Dutch House. A rather expensive bacon sandwich, served by a pleasant Dutchman who runs the place with his wife. Interesting though is the breadth of activities from felt hat making, to digital photography. Sculptures in the garden vary from chain-sawed owls to life-sized pig painted as if it were a jigsaws.

A quick check in Crayke and the green was a wilderness with no sign of any daffodil flowers. It looks like we missed out for another year. Brandsby passed by and then we began to climb the Howardian Hills toward the great houses at Hovingham then on through Nunnington. We then turned west heading for Helmsley through Harome.

In Helmsley there was dearth of motorcycles in the market place. Was it not time for lunch or afternoon tea or was it the threatening black clouds that has put them off. Just as the view was expressed, a group of bikers came in on the Billsdale Road, as we left the market place in the opposite direction. Further up the road we turned off to pass the ancient ruins of Rievaulx Abbey. A place, which will always stick in my mind as a restful place to lay in the sun with the dogs, listening only to the birds and the breeze.

On to Hawnby with its little stone church dedicated to All Saints then we roughly following the river Rye towards Osmotherley over the moors.

Turning west crossing the A19, then south towards Ripon.

Here we had a revisited Drakes Fish Shop hidden off the main road through town on Finkle Street, near the Workhouse Museum. The plaice and place is recommended.

We then head for home.



17 May 2013

Mid weeks saw me in Bradford at the Industrial Museum. I decided to make the visit one of simplicity, so didn’t carry a flash, except the one built into the camera, the only aid I had was a monopod. This naturally gave preference to wide apertures, thus smaller depth of field, the effects can be clearly seen on some of the shots with which I was pleased.

The museum is inside a former mill that has large windows. Since my last visit I note with some sadness that the Shire Horses they kept, have been moved on to new pastures. I just hope they are in better surroundings than the inner city setting of the museum.

In the grounds are a number of cottages with rooms set in various eras. The museum proper is set over three floors. The ground has various industrial equipment and engines. A collection of Jowett motor vehicles once built in Bradford. The factory is now underneath Eccleshill Police Station. Also several Scott motorcycles built in Shipley. Including one peculiar 3 wheeled Scott Sociable, which turned out to be some sort of covered, motorcycle and sidecar combination, based on a machine gun carrier built for the military around WWI.

In the basement are various printing machines, a trolley bus and ancient tram.

The top floor houses a collection of what may be expected in Bradford i.e. spinning and weaving machinery. I did notice the floors here were wooden. Many mills in Bradford have stone floors to cut the risk from fire.

An interesting visit.

Later in the week we had run into the dales. We travelled up to Bolton Abbey, taking the west side of the river Wharfe through the Storiths. The increased number of walkers and other visitors was noticeable. The promise of some sun had brought people out. The Cavendish Café by the river was filling up, but with a price tag of £7 to just park your car!

We moved on to Grassington above Barden Tower, dropping into Burnsall regularly featured in the Dales, a TV programme that has just restarted on the tube. We passed on to Buckden into Langstrothdale in our usual tram tracks. Unfortunately the sun wasn’t playing out just yet, although patches of blue sky where here and there.

Over the top into Gayle, then Hawes for a much needed sandwich in the Penny Garth ‘bikers’ café. Excellent once again! The creamery was given a wide birth too many temptations (and calories). From Hawes we took, not necessarily a different route as there are limited ways to get out of the town, but we took a route, which we have done before, but in reverse. We turning East towards Garsdale. The sun had started to pay us attention. At Garsdale Head we turned south heading for Dent, climbing out of the valley giving some nice views north into Cumbria.

Dropping into Dent Dale near the railway station. It is hard to imagine, but only a few weeks ago the road was blocked by snow. Now the fields are full of ewes and lambs. A short ‘comfort break’ in Dent, then it was off turning south through Deepdale and Kingsdale. This lane bends sharply at one point giving a roadside view of Lockin Garth Force.

Afternoon tea was had at the quite expensive café on Main Street in Ingleton. The place was full of paintings and local photographs for sale, also quite expensive.

Now we were on the home run, or at least we had turned south. On to the A65 then at Settle, we veered west following the road to Airton, calling in at Scaleber Force. Not so convenient, but worth a visit climbing over the high drystone at the style. This had a peculiar flapped gate atop, made of a piece of conveyer belt used in coal mines.

It was particularly good today, as the leaves on the trees in the glen below had not fully formed. Thus giving an unhindered view of the falls and the stone road bridge beyond.

Back on an old faithful route, via Grassington, to Ilkley and dinner at the Hermit, at Burley Woodhead. All tucked in and enjoyed.



09 May 2013


I have been training myself over the last few years to carry a camera all the time. I must admit I sometime forget. I seem to be able to ensure I have an empty memory card and a charged battery or two. But the hardest thing is to remember how the dammed thing works and where the switches and menus are located.

I have used Minolta film cameras for years. Minolta then had a series of mergers or takeovers. Konica, then latterly, when things went digital, Sony. But the format was kept. I continued with Sony primarily as all the lenses still fit, but also the arrangements of key functions were similar to the older cameras, names placement of switches etc. A nod I hoped to us older photographers who had a life pre-digital.

Age sometimes throws you a curved one. Most cameras these days have dioptric viewfinders so the annoying age related encumbrance of spectacles is overcome and if you wear specks all the time the adjustments allow you to continue without taking them off.





Anyway I wanted something lighter and convenient, so I didn’t have to lug around all the kit and could do away with the Quasimodo impersonation. So I bought a Panasonic Lumix TZ a pocket-sized camera. When you look at these cameras they can be quite amazing pieces of kit. That’s once you have got over the non ‘film’ digital age jargon.

Time for an example; now who thought of 16 times zoom (16x). What does it mean? Well it means very little really, because you need to know the old fashioned mm length of the lens in the first place. For example my little camera is a 16x zoom. But you then need to read through the manual to find the key information about the lens wide-angle, which turns out is a 24mm. This is the starting point. The way it works is to multiply 24 x 16 = 384. This gives you the equivalent mm of the maximum zoom. So we have a 28 mm to 384 mm zoom. (Quite impressive). With the DSLR I have to carry round two expensive and heavy pieces of glassware to achieve that, some carry even more.

Back to the Lumix. It has many, if not all the manual and automatic settings of a DSLR and a few more for the uninitiated, who are more interested in taking photos not photography. Forget the mapping systems, GPS face recognition etc, etc. The big failing for me in most of these compact cameras, is the total reliance on the rear screen for framing and display of all the other information. As soon as the sun comes out, you may as well be in the ‘dark’ trying to frame a shot.

Next there are optical shortcomings. Not the camera with its Leica lens, but the human end of this equation. Age usually means visually challenged and the intervention of the optician and for me the dreaded specks. Wear them and you walk into things. Don’t wear them and using the controls on a digital camera becomes the photographic equivalent of dowsing.

Gripe over they are still very good.

Earlier in the week I once again ended up in the park with Tinka. The sun was out, the long awaited spring had arrived. The gardeners had got the bedding plats in the ground and I had my trusty TZ with me hence the colourful shots of bedding plants and the amazing Magnolia tree in blossom.

A evening walk with the DSLR on the Leeds Liverpool Canal at Appeley Bridge gave some other interesting subjects, including a pair of swans, one on the nest, the other making sure we kept our distance with quite a display of wings and feathers. All on an evening, where the light didn’t look particularly auspicious.

It couldn’t last the weather has turned once again. The weekly run was also cancelled as two of us were ‘excused boots’ for completely different reasons. Get well soon.



04 May 2013

A decent day was promised and a decent day we got in parts.

As we entered Helmsley the main car park was packed. People were sat on the steps around the Lord Faversham memorial, designed by Sir Gilbert Scott and not too dissimilar to one found in Edinburgh (apparently). At the top end of the square one side was lined with motorcycles. Riders mingled in their leathers, taking a break.

We headed straight to the Nice Things Café and were treated to a decent sandwich and a resonable price even thought it is one of the more touristy places around. (I read there is a market here on Fridays, a point of discussion).

We had a short walk round the market place and took some quick snaps of the faces of people making the place look untidy, eating their pasties from brown paper bags and sandwiches from triangular plastic boxes. We made our way to the motorcycles, there was a new Triumph and a few brightly coloured Japanese bikes, but the one that took my eye was an old Vincent. All black paint and highly polished chrome.

From here we headed north into Bransdale, turning south again at Cockayne and down the other side of the valley. Then it was over into Farndale, via Gillamoor. Worth a stop for a look from Surprise View, next to the church before you begin your drop down into the valley.

Farndale is well known for its display of Daffodils. These had been delayed this year, due to the unseasonable cold weather, but they were out now and in force.

We dropped down to Low Mill and Church Houses. We didn’t call in this time at the church, which is usually worth a visit as the graveyard is full of flowers.

We climbed out of Rosedale onto Blakey Ridge and called in at the Lion for a drink. Its claim to fame is being at the highest point on the North Yorkshire Moors at 1,324 feet and probably one of the bleakest places to be in the winter. Inside it has some of the lowest ceilings and an open fire roared even in May!

We now turned south into Hutton-le-Hole then west to Kirbymoorside. Turning off the main road at Wombleton passing its WWII airfield, headed south to Nunnington, passing its great hall. We then arrived in Hovingham. A small village presumably created to service the grand stately home of the same name. A stream runs through the village and the daffodils were out here too. A walk round the village for a stretch of the legs. Then through the Hardwardian Hills to Easingwold for dinner at the Angel in Market Square.

When we got into the dining room the tables were all reserved, so we sat in the adjacent darts room. We later discovered that a group from Slimming World were having a get together and were ‘practicing’ in the dining room!

On route back we passed over Alwark toll bridge (40p) then through Little Ouseburn, home.



26 April 2013

I am still restricted by medical advice not to drive, after events of a couple of weeks back. Thanks to friends, I appear to have got out and about more than usual. There have been daily walks with the dog. Earlier in the week it was Holbeck and Armley and a walk round Otley. All helps prevent early onset of going stir crazy.

The main event of the week, the run off, didn’t look very favourable. The meteorologists predictions appeared poor which a slight prospect of an improvement later.

Well we set off towards Leyburn and it rained. We managed to find a parking spot near to our first port of call, Penley’s Coffee Shop and Bistro in the Market Place. A decent bacon sandwich and a drink served in a nice comfortable shop.

From Leyburn we headed northwest towards Reeth, passing the numerous red flags guarding the edges of the army firing ranges on the moors. We passed through Grinton and Fremingtington, climbing onto the green in Reeth. We turned into Arkengathdale, climbing still towards Tan Hill passing through the strangely named Whaw. I don’t know why this hamlet is so called, not even Wikipedia has any ideas. Answers on a post card please to…….

The wild life didn’t want to show it’s self. Low cloud obscured the views and became fog as we climbed. Only one opportunity to take a shot appeared when we stopped to change gear on top. We passed the pub at Tan Hill, which was shrouded in mist. We hummed and hared about turning toward Kirby Stephen, but took the road south back towards Keld. Some vestiges of snow lay in the odd nook and cranny. We passed the spot only a few weeks ago, where we had helped pull the van out of the snow.

The odd Snipe, Lapwing and Pheasant showed themselves, but only fleetingly.

Crossing the new bridge over the Swale we briefly turned right and called in at an old friend, Wain Wath Force. The river was in spate, but the light rain and mizzle made it essential to keep an eye on the lenses.

Turning round we visited another old friend, the place I named ‘Joe Cornish’s barn’. Grey and miserable. Things were so bad we passed the ‘tripod holes’ just above Thwaite without even a momentary stop. The barns in the valley bottom were misty and dank.

Turing just after Thwaite onto the Butter Tubs Pass. We climbed, then fell into Hawes. We sort a few minutes solace at the Wensleydale Creamery and yes I bought some cheese. Well you can’t deprive yourself forever. Some lovely Kit Calvert Wensleydale Cheese, named after the founder. One of my companions takes great pleasure in reminding us how many moons ago, he came across Kit fishing in the river below his premise. A wonderful cheese scone later and the accompanying cup of tea, we were on the road again. Turning south into Gayle then over Fleet Moss. The low cloud was still around.

Something I haven’t mentioned, but at lower levels spring lambs were ‘filling’ the fields. What a lovely sight.

There was no clear view of Ingleborough, the top being shrouded in thick cloud. A patch of sun fleetingly caught the base, but that was it. We stopped for a ‘gork’ and I noticed the raindrops on the barbed wire fence that divided the moors from the road, but as I set myself up, the breeze came up and several yards of wire suddenly lost the water droplets in one go. I wondered further down the lane to find another barb to shoot.

On we moved dropping down into Langstrothdale. Yorkshire Water has spent weeks up here, first laying blue plastic pipe and then burying it. This work is still ongoing, presumably between snowstorms. Every so often they have allowed the pipe to surface as if they have some slack. Occasionally you can spot a smaller gauge of pipe in a streambed or under a drystone wall. I don’t know what that is about.

Just below Deepdale we came a cross a white van with men alighting dressed in fluorescent jackets. At the back one was dressed in a wetsuit. Don’t know what that was about either, takes all sorts!

On we went down the valley passing the faded near pink post-box at Yockenthwaite, then into Buckden.

Now heading for home we passed Kilnsey Crags. This reminded me of a recent blast from the past. In one of my previous existences as part of our training an exercise was planned and executed in the hills around here. I was partnered with Brian Best. We were given a number of tasks, one of which I believe was to take photographs at various place we had to find via a map. For such purposes we were provided with a Polaroid Instamatic camera. Woops! Just wasted another shot and look here’s Brian stood on a fell side and where did that row of maturating drinkers in a hedgerow appear from? Just a few weeks ago Brian made contact with me after more than a few years (23 ish) through a mutual friend Karen Burton who I’d bumped into in a supermarket. Hi to you both.

In Grassington we turned onto the road to Bolton Abbey. There were some signs of the weather improving. At Barden Bridge the sun actually came out. Illuminating the side of the castle in a way I’d not seen before. We pulled in, then decided to cross the river Wharfe and drive down the Storiths road.

We returned that evening to the Hermit at Burley Woodhead, accompanied by encouraging comments about the quality of the food and ‘never had a bad meal there’. I had a lovely fish pie, the lambs liver and onions was also lauded, but the corned beef pie was given the thumbs down, mainly due to the ‘concrete’ pastry. Apparently no amount of complaining after consuming his dinner, resulted in anything other than a nodding head, a wry smile and a comment that it perhaps had been ‘left oven a tad too long’. Still two out of three ain’t bad.



20 Apr 2013

Well the last couple of weeks have been a bugger (Excuse). Had a spell in hospital and real shock to the system. So you will have to excuse my absence. I’m struggling as the malady has left it difficult to use the camera. Alas, I wish it was only that, I have to contend. As a friend commented “Excused boots” this week.

The run off this week initially took us towards Selby. Just short of Monk Fryston, we called in at a very large electrical substation for some ‘industrial’ type shots, which I decided would suite a black and white treatment. We dropped down for a very quick call in at Fairburn Ings, then retraced our steps back towards Selby.

Lunch in Selby was at Abbey Café in Mickelgate. A place we have visited before. The interior has all the hallmarks of a medieval butcher shop. Hooks in the beams and very low ceilings. If our hosts said it once he said it 10 times “Mind your head”. I got the impression that that it was a reflex reaction on his part. The bacon sandwich was good and very good value. I had to leave my companions and when I later re joined them in the car, I was told about the apparently unsavoury conditions they had seen in the kitchen. This taints any full recommendation.

From Selby we headed towards Home-on-Spalding Moor via a few turns and diversions as the direct road was closed. We travelled on towards Driffield. On route we notice a number of ‘dust storms’, where the wind was blowing off the topsoil, from the recently ploughed fields. This continued throughout the day in various places, yet some fields still had standing water in them. Very peculiar!

At Kirkburn we turned north coming out at Garton-on-the-Wold. St Michael and All Angels Church, was on the edge of the village. The church is Norman and is full of extraordinary wall paintings, floor to ceiling, below a painted roof. A photographer in a white boiler suite was taking photographs prior to a further restoration project. Incidentally this is one of a number of Churches, that have been restored by the Sykes family of Sledmere House and is one of the stop offs for the Sykes Church Trail.

We now headed north west, climbing to the Sir Tatton Sykes Memorial stone tower, with a great view of the countryside below. Driving on to Sledmere, the Sykes family home. Then turning west along a ridge looking for shots over the Yorkshire Wolds, as the patches of sun came and went over the rolling landscape.

We stopped to look down on Kirby Grindalythe with its spired church and vivid red, presumably pan tiled roof. This is another of the Sykes Church’s, not mentioned in the internet version of the trail. This I later discovered also has wall paintings, so a mental note, to visit at some time soon.

Cross-country now, to Kirkham Priory. Where a very personable young lady, in the abbey shop, greeted us. Unfortunately, I suspect through no fault of her own, we had the most awful cup of ‘English Heritage’ tea. Paper cup and some disgusting dried whitener. This prompted one of my friends to recall his wartime experience in the Far East. This involved descriptions of dried egg and “disgusting” dried potatoes called ‘Pom’, which apparently was served pre mixed with cabbaged. He had been scared for life.








We left Kirkham, heading east crossing the A64 to Castle Howard. On the very long driveway we passed a column with a golden top, not un-similar to the monument for the Great Fire of London. Further on along the undulating drive known as the Stray were a couple of gates then an obelisk. After the turn off for the actual house the Great Lake appeared to our right. Viewed from the far side of the lake the enormous edifice of the Castle stands above all on top of a hill.

Just past the next gate we turned west heading for Easingwold. Evening dinner was at the Angel Inn, in the Market Place. It looked newly renovated, clean tidy and with enough fellow customers to make you feel it was somewhere worth visiting. Well it was. The food was great a selection of pub grub and very competitively priced.

Watch the full-length mirror to your right, as you walk along the corridor in the gents. Apparently it reflects the urinals and the unwary can turn quickly and find they have walked into the mirror, not the john. HA!

As we headed for home a band of cloud appeared on the horizon and the sun dropped behind it prematurely, so no sun set this night.




6 Apr 2013

Has Spring sprung? Well the sun has appeared for more that a couple of days in succession. We have been promised an increase in temperature, but not more sun. The daffodils haven’t flowered yet but the croci are showing.

This week we started in Acomb on the edge of York. Then we headed northwest to Skelton. On the road is a sign indicating an ancient church, so we peeled off for a look. The church of St Giles on the village green is small but has a Saxon doorway that looks to have been recently restored. The green was well stocked with crocus or croci. I’ll let you argue over that one, but both are in the online dictionary.

We continued in the same direction arriving at our usual stop off in Easingwold at the (Clarks) Bakery. The sandwiches are good, but have gone up in price. The comment was made that we should try else where on our next visit.

We turned northeast calling in at Crayke. Alas as suspected the daffodils on the hilly green in front of the church weren’t out yet. I read somewhere they have to have temperatures above freezing for a certain number of days before they will flower. So it wasn’t looking great for Farndale, yet. We headed north passing the old WWII airdrome at Wombleton. Where one of my companions reminisces about his wartime visits to a Canadian unit and a dance or two, I think he also mentioned sleeping under a hedge. Incidentally, the pub is run by a lady from Horsforth (small world).

Onward we cross the A170 near Kirbymoorside into Kirkdale passing near to St Gregory’s Minster. Worth a visit if you have time. Described as one of the most peaceful places to stop and rest.

We skirted Kirbymoorside coming out on the Blakey Ridge road, with Farndale on the left and Rosedale on the right. This time avoiding temptation and passing the Lion Inn and only stopping at Ralph’s Cross, where the sky was great with the odd cloud and the sun was out. Initially the sea beyond Whitby was covered by mist, but that cleared before we left.

Dropping into Castleton, we turned east following the railway line and the river Esk. We passed below Danby Castle, through Lealholm and Egton Bridge ending up in Goathland. The home of the now defunct TV series Heartbeat and a railway station on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway. Two steam trains were in the station, but pulled out as we alighted. A leisurely cup of tea later and the near empty station started to fill up. As an aside why do they spoil a perfectly good drink by serving it in a Styrofoam cup – ruined! Two more steam trains, one from the direction of Whitby then one from Pickering arrived. The latter’s loco being the ‘wrong way’ round. A near frenzy of photographs followed. Highly satisfied we returned to the car, passing the pay and display machine, which we hadn’t seen on our arrival. Relief there was no ticket!

We discussed calling in at Levisham for a second bite of the trains, but that was discounted and we continued into Pickering. Then Kirbymoorside and back pretty much along the same route we had come. We skirted York, crossing the toll bridge at Alwark (40p), down to Whixley and a meal at the Anchor Pub. Excellent day had by all.


29 Mar 2013

The unseasonable cold weather has continued. Which as it has turned out, has been a bit of a boon photographically. In fact I had a right job sorting out what and even harder what not, to post.

I’ll start off my route at Malham. The sun gave a few tantalising appearances and it fell nicely on the Cove as we arrived. Signs of recent road closures due to snow were everywhere. Out of Malham it was up and north towards Street. Here there were signs of 6 foot high drifts.

Turning west we headed for Settle passing in view of the east side of Pen Y Ghent all 694 m or 2277 ft in old money and of course covered in the white stuff. Further on we came to Winskill Stones. A rocky outcrop with a fantastic vew. I’ve seen this image before and it was worth some time taking a few shots. But oh, the wind was bitter. Dropping down onto the B6479 at Langcliffe we turned left into Settle and something to eat at the trusted Singing Kettle off the Market Place. The bacon sandwich didn’t disappoint and such good value.

Returning to the journey we took to the B6479 this time heading north to Horton in Ribblesdale. At Dry Beck just short of Horton we took in the other side of Pen Y Ghent.

Through Horton onto the Ribblehead road and just before Selside we stopped at the hardy perennial view of a farm on the west side of the road. It didn’t disappoint. Into the village it’s self the Victorian post box mounted in a wall took my interest. I like the effect of removing the entire colours except the red of the box. So that is what you get on my photograph.

Ribblehead, the viaduct, railway station, Whernside and the ever present Ingleborough were next on the itinerary. Going back to the statistics; Whernside 736 m, 2415 ft and Ingleborough 724 m, 2372 ft. (Approx as the internet seems to have a slight variation). These make up the remaining peaks of the Three Peaks of Yorkshire (with Pen Y Ghent). When I visit I always remind myself of the pain of climbing all three during my youth in less than 12 hours and the bloody blisters.

From here we called in at the derelict farm at Gearstones, and became the centre of amusement for some sheep. Further on, we turned left down into Dent Dale dropping into the valley bottom under a viaduct on the Settle Carlisle line. Further on, turning right passing the ‘road closed’ signs we began the steep climb, up to Dent Railway Station. Which I think I have pointed out before, is neither near Dent, nor on a similar elevation. Stats - 350 m or 1150 ft. The road held out having been cleared to just beyond the station. Here the snow fences took my eye. In a photograph I used on web the image of the actual station is giving the feel of a model using a blurring technique.

We had to retrace our steps climbing back up to the Ribblehead, Hawes Road. A unofficial sign appeared to say we were now back on Newby Head Pass. Down which we travelled towards Hawes.

Yes, we did call in at the famous creamery and yes I did buy some Wensleydale cheese and no not for myself. Following tea and okay, a little sample of the wears at in the refrigerated shop, we carried on up onto Fleet Moss passing through Gayle.

On the way up the side of Sleddale, we spied a couple of tractors closely coupled on the way down so we stopped. When the reached us it was a snowplow. Climbing to the top it looked like the road down to Camm Head had just been cleared. We turned off onto Fleet Moss proper. The snow was as high as the car in places. We reached the z bends (589 m) which we took with some care as things looked a little treacherous. At the bottom we were treated to a great view of a snowy Inglebrough, but also an un-cleared road. Again it was a matter do you risk it or not. We decided that discretion was the better valour and probably that the mountain rescue people could do without a little more publicity.

Back over into Gayle we took the right turn bypassing Hawes and ending up on the Bainbridge Road. Alas the Archimedes screw in the river, used to generate electricity wasn’t turning. That may well have to wait until the thaw.

A slight diversion to West Burton and Cauldron Force revealed no light and little sings of icing. So we continued onto Leyburn.

The Black Swan in Leyburn played host for a late dinner. After a previous disappointment everyone was satisfied with the fayre.

Home.


23 Mar 2013

Spring is upon us. Not! The beginning of the week wasn’t too bad. Latterly the winter has returned with a vengeance.

We set of north bypassing Ilkley, following the east side of the river Wharfe. Near Bolton Abbey we turned towards Harrogate then onto the Storiths Road, which takes you passed Bolton Abbey, but on the ‘wrong’ side of the river. Nearing Appletreewick we turned off onto the road above Parcevall Hall. Which allowed us to look down on the house and just a few hundred yards further on, we got a view of the gorge containing Trollers Gill. Home of the ‘Barguest’ the terrifying spectral hound of Craven, incidentally pinched by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The sun was mainly in our favour, but passing clouds could still put an end to that. Snow was visible on the tops, but at our altitude it wasn’t a problem. As we turned towards Grassington the clouds took over, but allowed some sunbeams to illuminate the snowy ridge nearby.

We passed through Grassington remaining on the east side of the Wharfe until Kettlewell, where we changed roads and headed north to Buckden on the other side of the river. Turning left into Langstrothdale, the snow was still above us. Then we climbed up onto Langstrothdale Chase onto Fleet Moss. The climb brought us into the snowfield. Looking west we could see Ingleborough, covered in snow, so were the moors in-between. At the top of the road we stopped off to look down into Sleddale. The snow stuck to a certain elevation, the valley below having thawed. Sheep at the roadside were busy scratching back the snow, to get something green to eat.

We dropped down into Hawes and out of the snow. We ate at the Penny Garth Café in the Market Place. A biker’s haunt, but not as intimidating as you may think, as they are usually middle aged men, trying to re live their youth, not a load of hairy, tattooed Hells Angels. The bacon sandwich was excellent and good value hence the reason it was so popular.

We the passed over the river Ure, still on our quest, heading north, onto the Buttertubs Pass. We again reached an altitude where the snow was with us.

Looking back down the Pass, Ingleborough could still be seen on the skyline amongst the other snowy peaks. A white van began to make his presence known, so we pulled over to let him through. We continued down into Thwaite. We turned left along the valley, to one of the sets of tripod holes in the grass verge in Swaledale. I know this as ‘Joe Cornish’s Barn’. As we were taking photographs the white van passed buy again, heading towards Keld.

We took a short detour to see the falls at Wain Wath Force. Then retraced our steps turning left towards Tan Hill. That van reappeared and we let it pass once again. This time we saw it gaining distance on us as we proceeded along at our steady pace. Then it was gone.

After plodded along for some time we coming round a bend to see a small stone bridge, beyond was the van, stationary. It didn’t take long to realise it was in a ditch at the side of the road leant over at an angle. The road was covered in ice. After alighting we could see the van had gone off the road, then tried to reverse back along the ditch, before becoming totally stuck. The vehicle along with the small snowdrift on the other side blocked the road. We spoke with the driver who was a worker for Parcel Force in a hire van. My companion said he had a towrope and if he could get buy he would try and pull him out. I firsts suggested a technique using both break and accelerator to fool the vehicles differential and allow power to the road wheel on the tarmac. Alas the wheel spun on the tarmac as the vehicle was at too much of an angle and the weight was in the ditch. No one seemed to appreciate that it was supposed to be the wheel in the mud that spun. Ah! well.

It was agreed that the Postman would move enough snow to let us buy. At which he produced a snow shovel. He swung it with all the force he could muster, at the base of the snow drift. As it bit, Newtons ‘equal and opposite reactionary force’ took over and bag, he landed on his backside on the frozen tarmac road. Oh, that must have hurt! But he carried on like a good ‘un’.

My companion, turned round to walk back to his car. All I heard was a thump and a groan and turned to find him too laid on the ice. After a dusting off he was back to the car with pulled shoulder and bruised backside and I suspect pride.

The snow was eventually moved and the manoeuvring complete, to get our car in front. I tied the vehicles together with a towrope. I would have been happier if my friend had waited, until I had got out of the way of a possible decapitation if the rope broke. I guess he was now impatient to be away. He did pulled the van free as I scurried amongst the ice and snow to get clear.

Then all we had to do was manoeuvre around the on coming traffic, who’s drivers had watched and were now reluctant, neigh frightened to pull over to one side to let us go.

Eventually they saw sense and we carried on climbing to the pub on top of Tan Hill.

The roads here were that much worse. The keen wind was moving the snow about, which had a fine consistence like icing sugar. We had to wait for the sun to move between clouds for a few photographs and near hypothermia from the bitter wind. I hate to think what the wind chill factor was.

We continued on a how shall I say, ‘interesting’ icy road, down Arkengathdale towards Reeth. We reminisced about the various seasons we had seen in the dale this year. Buttercups, purple heather, through to deep snow.

A rewarding drink accompanied by teacake (or alternate scone) was had at the Copper Kettle in Reeth. The Giant Cranberry Teacake and Wensleydale Cheese was only just avoided. That’s will power for you! We headed towards home, via Layburn and Richmond.

We detoured on the way back for dinner at the Hermit in Burley Woodhead. It was worth every penny.





16 Mar 2013

Last week was taken up mainly editing the wedding photographs from the week before. I’m pleased and relieved to say they turned out well.

I did manage a quick visit to Ferrybridge. It was a cool sunny morning and I noticed from miles away the cooling towers were emitting large amounts of steam. By the time I reached them Mrs Davies from Bridgend, must have turned off her kettle and the steam was minimal.

Jump a week and I headed for the hills. Well it was Otley Chevin, a forested area set on a hillside above Otley. I was foggy and the woodland walks were quite eerie, but made for some decent pictures. Especially when converted into black and white.

Later in the week we headed for the East Coast. Calling in at our favourite bacon butty venue at the Market Place Café/Restaurant in Malton. Disappointed or what! The owner had decided to change the size of our breakfast choice to our detriment one roll not two. NOT impressed.

Onward we headed for Pickering then the Hole of Horcum. As we climbed, more and more signs of snow on the surrounding countryside, which remained with us until we began to drop into Whitby. Parking on the harbour side we managed a few shots and a short walk down towards the fish docks, then the sun began to succumb to the ever-increasing cloud. St Mary’s Church on the opposite side of the harbour had visible white plaques on the clock tower. Apparently recent landslips have affected it’s stability and damage is beginning to show.

The days are noticeably longer, but the weather is still not with us and we drove back into rain.



2 Mar 2013

Busy, busy week. Mid week saw me taking photographs at a friends wedding. A job for which I was honoured to be considered. This was I think my fourth and on each occasion I have sworn I would never do another. The stress is tremendous, full of what ifs, not helped by a 3 am awakening with a brain running at 100 mph, whilst staring at the bedroom ceiling.

I have to finish the editing, so not too much on that now.

Later in the week a run off on one of the better days of the year. This took us towards Ripon and Studley Royal. A couple of classic shots, but in winter lighting which gave a slightly different twist. Then it was on to North Stainley. The core is a modern built village around ponds and a village green. It looked promising on previous visits but the light wasn’t right. The sun was out, but as we turned the corner the promise evaporated. I later did some more research and the envisaged shots will only be properly lit in summer when the sun reaches north of west.

Onto West Tasfield. I know it’s the old chocolate box photo. Life and limb are put at risk by standing on the bridge over the river Ure to get the shot. Drivers appear to ‘take no hostages’.

We went on further north to Masham calling in at the Boarder House Café, in the middle of the Market Square. Plain, but a good meal and reasonably priced once you got passed what was ‘off the menu’.

We turned east heading over the moors to Lofthouse. The moorland was being burnt to renew the heather crop. Then turned up towards Scar House Reservoir. Dacre Son and Hartley appear not only to have a monopoly, but a lot of properties to sell up this valley. At the end it we tuned back, dropping into Pateley Bridge before heading home via Otley.




22 February 2013

At the beginning of the week we took ourselves of into the land of the Summer Wine. That is to say we ended up in Holmfirth, the set for the TV series whose characters include Compo, Nora Batty and is also original home of Bamforth’s, the naughty post cards people.

I’d passed through before but never stopped. The town is set around a valley and perches on steep slopes. The buildings are mainly of wonderful golden stone. After parking we immediately fell on one of the sets of the TV series, Sid’s Café. It sits in a square next to the parish church of Holy Trinity. I’m afraid the café trades on its fame and not on it’s quality of food or drink.

We wondered by the nearby Barclays Bank up a riverside road to find Nora Batty’s house. Now also a café and hiding behind a plethora of signs. Go sight seeing and see lots of hoardings and adverts!

One sunny morning walk with the dog in the park with a pocket camera led to some different shots.

The main event was a run off into the Dales. It was a case, like many a day out this past year, the sun refused to favour us. The forecast said Lancashire so we headed from Menston, skirting Bingley into the Aire valley taking the back roads. We crossed the valley into Cononley the turned north skirting Skipton and ending up at Gargrave and the Boars Head. We decided to eat and allow the weather time to change. The meal was very good and their was a consensus on the quality and cost. But the weather didn’t improve.

Our journey continued through Settle, into Ribblesdale then up to Ribblehead. De jar vous! Ingleborough disappointed, as the light was poor. The derelict cottage above Gearstone on the road to Hawes provided an opportunity to use the new flashgun.

We then turned off into Dentdale droping down below the railway viaduct. The access under the railway arches to the old packhorses bridge, has been blocked buy boulders and the gate has been replaced by a fence and wire. What a shame.

We passed by Dent Railway station, which is neither near, nor on the same elevation as the village. It is some miles away and a steep climb up to the permanent way. Turing north we came to Garsdale, Cumbria. The railway station appeared to be in the middle of a restoration. A statue of a dog Ruswarp, (pronounced Rusup) sits in pride of place on the platform. His owner Graham Nuttal was a founder member of the group who helped save the railway line in the 1980’s. Just after the announcement that the line would not be closed, the dog with his master went walking in the Welsh Mountains, but both went missing. The 14-year-old dog was found 11 weeks later by Graham’s body, barely alive. The dog survived the winter weather to attend his master’s funeral.

I’m glad I didn’t read the storey until I got home!

Onward we travelled back into Yorkshire, passing Hawes, not visiting the creamery, the climbed Fleet Moss. The temperature at the bottom was 0°C at the to it dropped 2 degrees.

A view was afforded of Ingleborough, the grey skies just broke to give sunbeams, which rapidly passed by and the horizon had a slight red tinge.

We then retuned home via Buckden, Kilnsey, Bolton Abbey and Ilkley.




17 February 2013

The last week has found me in and around Jedburgh in the Scottish Boarders. This was not my first visit, but it is at a different time of year. I was hoping that February would provide a different angle on the scenery.

The road to Jedburgh (A68) passes the edge of Kielder Forest in Northumberland. Just beyond is Catcleugh a smaller reservoir. On our arrival it was as still as a millpond. Although overcast the reflected snow did form some nice shapes in the cold black water.

That night tripod in hand, I visited the Abbey on the edge of ‘Jed Water’. Which for us Sassenach is the one way the Scots refer to the river Jed. It was illuminated, but until recently I understand it had been out of action.

Over the next few days we would put on some miles, revisiting places we had been before and taking in some new ones.

Smailholm Tower was one of those previously visited. I’m glad of the 4 x 4 as the farmer whose yard you have to pass through had left the road covered in a thick layer of mud and manure. A long wait was had for a patch of sun to reach the tower and the wind was really bitter.

The story goes that Scotts View, which over looks the meanderings of the Tweed was so named after Sir Walter Scott, as it was one of his favourite places. So popular in fact, that at his funeral his horses stopped un-prompted to give their old master a last look.

Nearby is the impressive railway viaduct at Leaderfoot, visited on a couple of occasions, once in a snowstorm.

The Boarders have a number of well-known towns. Kelso, Hawick, Galashiels and Peebles. I was sort of under impressed by virtually all. Don’t get me wrong they are nice little towns, but towns or large villages they are. What amazes me is how well they are known. Perhaps it’s the famous rivers, or the woollens (that have some affinity with West Yorkshire). The names seem to pack more punch than the places themselves. Does anyone in the Boarders know Otley or Keighley, I suspect not. Perhaps it’s the cache of Tweed and Cashmere that make the difference.

I liked the back roads of the Southern Uplands. The first few days there was laying snow making some of the roads a bit more challenging. Mid week saw more snow, but followed immediately by rain. That washed most of the white stuff away. We passed close to St Mary’s Loch and Megget reservoir, which abutted nicely with last summers trips from Lochmaben.

The end of the week saw better weather for photography, so a second trip round some of the highlights was made.

The sky’s are particularly clear at night. Keilder just over the boarder in Northumberland is renowned for it’s lack of light pollution. Unfortunately when the asteroid 2012 DA14 passed by on Friday the moon was out spoiling what could have been an ideal view.















01 February 2013

I left you last week after a visit to Ribblehead. That visit prompted me to return a couple of days later when the forecast had improved i.e. possible sun, also fresh snow overnight, but also that forecast heralded a change in the weather and a probable loss of all the recent snow with rain on the way. So I followed much the same route to Skipton, but called off in Gargrave to have a look at the stepping-stones crossing the river Aire. No one appeared to have dared a crossing with the layer of snow still intact. Just a little further on, the Leeds Liverpool Canal shows it’s self. The lock gates were covered in snow and the water held back behind them was frozen, showing no signs of recent water borne traffic.

The sun kept appearing and disappearing. Tantalising blue sky appeared and then disappeared. The first surprise was the arrival on the outskirts of Horton in Ribblesdale. The view of Pen y Ghent was non-existent, due to low cloud. Just passed Horton the sun did come out illuminating the fields and moors beyond. The entrance to the farm at Selside was covered in several inches of snow. A car was abandoned in the mouth of the lane and one quick attempt at climbing the steep entrance and that was enough for me. It was clear I wasn’t going to make it up without a run at it and the dangers posed by the other car were not worth taking even in a 4 x 4.

On to Ribblehead and the viaduct and I could see the shot I wanted on the approach. But as I was getting out of the car the sun was moving. The fist shot was the best and waiting for the sun appeared futile, so after giving it quite a while, we moved on.















The sun was not with us until Widdale, on the approaches to Hawes. Fleetingly it played with us. A couple of grabbed shot of snow covered fields, farms and barns were taken. Then a call in at the Wensleydale creamer for a drink.

Above Gayle the sun again made a brief visit. The falls were still icy but with more recent snow.

Then on to Fleet Moss. The road was clear as we ascended the climb. Then we met the snow. Almost a clear line across the road, snow one side tarmac the other. Someone had been here earlier. There was a reassuring crunch as traction was given by the ruts of ice, made by tractor tyres. The snow got thicker and thicker as we climbed further. Then the signs of others stopped. The tractors tread marks turned off into the entrance to a field. There was nothing in the snow to show any traffic since last nights snow. I continued on a little further, the snow was getting deep and the road steeper. In the far distance a couple of lights could be seen near the brow. The lights disappeared, if it was another vehicle, they had turned around. I know the road up there and drystone walls at either side could trap the snow between then or drift to block the road. It was time to turn round. Reversing some distance as you couldn’t see the edges of the road was the only way, until the snow filled track into a field gave me enough confidence to do the three point turn. In fact it was more like 5 or 6.

Back down in the valley we followed Wensleydale on it’s south side, then over to Aysgarth, then into West Burton. The falls of Cauldron Force was still flowing. But plenty of ice and snow were evident, but by now it was staring to get dark.
We returned via Buckden and Skipton.

Later in the week a delayed start took us firstly to Malton and the favoured Market Place Restaurant. Very popular today the word must have gone out. Excellent sandwich and the others meals were as successful and all at a good price.

Crossing over the A1 and passing the Eden Camp Museum, with it’s WWII Hurracain fighter, displayed at a jaunty angle. We turned to catch a glimpse of the Derwent river. All that recent snow had melted and it was now in flood. We headed north passing Flamingo Land to Pickering. From there we followed the Heritage line of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway. There is a deal of old railway stock in stored on the lines just north of the railway station. Into Crompton, turning east to Hutton-le-Hole. Dropping down into Kirbymoorside, then Helmsley. The sun was now failing us so we headed home via Ripon, Harrogate.

On my return I discovered that the ISO on my camera had been set at 1250 not 250. What a disappointment, most of the photographs are too grainy to use. What a disappointment. Another toe stub on lifes journey!


25 Januuary 2013

The winter weather has continued. More snow is promised. Then it’s rain and flooding!

Last week started off with a visit to the Queens Arms at Chapel Allerton for breakfast. A sunny Sunday morning. Just before I pulled into the car park, I spied an allotment over a low wall next to the road. The low angle of the light caused the frost and makeshift green house glow. Immediately I saw something that I thought worthy of a shot, but only became clear when I got it back onto the computer. Strange subject but I like this image a lot. The breakfast wasn’t bad either.

Later in the week loads of snow was dumped on us. A morning walk in Hall Park with my pocket camera gave me some overcast images, as the sky was still full of snow. As I was about to leave, a trace of sun began to break through. I returned later in the afternoon with my DSLR and saw another aspect of the snow lit by a sky-approaching sunset.

One of our number was ill this week (get well soon). So it was off to the Dales with a lighter crew. We followed the usual tram tracks, Ilkley, Bolton Abbey, bypassing Skipton to Settle for lunch. Once again predictably it was the Singing Kettle, Restaurant. Up to press the weather showed promise, but always in the distance and on this occasion in the rear view mirror. What was forecast for Lancashire, I hoped would wander over the Pennines.

We headed further north to Horton in Ribblesdale. Which appeared to be shut. We stopped off for a couple of shots of Pen y Ghent (one of the three peaks of Yorkshire). Alas the sun gave us no favours. The sky was as grey as the snow atop the peak, both murging into one another. On towards Ribblehead and the viaduct, but fist a call in briefly at Selside and a look at the farm.

The reason for the visit to Ribblehead was a picture I had already formed in my head. A dark silhouette of the arches, against the white of the snow. I got these elements, but alas the amount of sun was less than I imagined. You can’t have everything, unless you live on the doorstep and keep going back. We stayed for sometime watching the changing sky. A trained passed over but alas not a steam loco. Dream on! The little sun we saw didn’t move across fast enough. So we eventually had to leave.

All roads lead to Hawes, at least round here. We did turned off the ‘main’ road and dropped into Appersett passing under the stone viaduct of a disused railway, beset with icicles. The stream that ran alongside the road and under another arch had what appeared to be an interesting waterfall and I made a mental note to return.

In Hawes, we partook of afternoon tea at the Wensleydale Creamery. Another culinary delight discovered only recently, a cheese scone. Unfortunately cheese was purchased, but my defence was I was only following orders.

The light was seriously failing. On to Gayle, the waterfall had both ice and snow gathered on it. The millrace was full of snow. A threatened drive through the ford was curtailed with shouts of ‘we are loosing the light’. So we climbed onto the tops once again, travelling between snow covered dry stonewalls. Just catching Ingleborough once again before the sun disappeared.

Then it was a run in the dark back home.



18 Jan 2013

This week has given me some different opportunities and I tried to exploit them. We have had laying snow and some sunshine.

One afternoon just a short drive crossing the river Wharfe, took me into North Yorkshire. Almscliffe Crags, Huby and Weeton. Almscliffe was a bit disappointing as the sun failed to come out. No sooner had I driven away than it promised a decent sunset. I came across a pond in which the sunset was reflected. More than a few shots later I managed to drag myself away. Not bad results for a couple of hours.

The next day a drive out towards Pateley Bridge. But as we topped Wharefedale Almscliffe Crags beckoned, as it was highlighted by the sun and reflecting snow, unlike yesterday. Arriving it wasn’t so promising a haze appeared to settle on the rocks. Several viewpoints and a little patience were required before it revealed itself. Then it was off again towards Pateley. Once again a diversion, this time to Menwith Hill. A wind farm and the ‘golf ball’ radar arrays of R.A.F. Menwith Hill, both white structures, blue skies, snow and sheep all in one shot.

Onward to Pateley Bridge, this time we did get there. After a drink at the Farmers Market and a chat on the lack of rabbits in the Washburn Valley, pies, cuts of beef and the cost of lamb and eggs, we began to wonder towards home as the day was coming to an end. As we headed to wards Blubberhouses, fortunately I recalled Pock Stone Moor, where we had visited when the purple heather was out. Talk about timing. The sun was setting; the reds of the dead grasses and heather were accentuated by the suns colour. Surprisingly no, the colours haven’t been messed with! Unfortunately a lack of thought as to depth of field, left me a little disappointed as I hadn’t picked up on the fact that the foreground grasses weren’t as sharp as I would have liked.

We moved on towards West End. West End was a village; it appears on the road signs, but a hamlet that is really no more. Being submerged below Thrusscross Reservoir. Once a producer of flax, from its own mill. It now provide it’s own stories of a lost village that appears only during drought years.

A competition at the club gave a surprise result. One of my shots of a ‘Plimsole shoe in frost’, an entry in a set subject of ‘Weather’ came up trumps. 20 out of 20. Beat that! (See gallery – Colour Fun Quirky).

The weekly run off took us firstly out to Otley Chevin. A woodland/moor on a steep incline above Otley and the Wharfe valley. It’s north facing orientation appeared to have preserved the frost on the treetops. A walk through the woods gave some nice wintry results.

On into north Yorkshire out via Ilkley, Bolton Abbey and along the Wharfe to Buckden. A well-travelled route for us, into Langstrothdale and Yockenthwaite. The most photographed post-box in the world at (at least for me). This time snow and ice was the theme. Deeper into the dale (passing Deepdale), then climbing out over Langstrothdale Chase and down into Gayle. Gayle Beck, the waterfalls and the millrace were all near frozen.

Hawes saw us stop for something to eat at the Wensleydale Pantry. They didn’t let us down.

We started our run home by travelling on the north side of the Wensleydale to Leyburn. Dusk was on us and the light was failing.

All in all, a good week.

Here’s a gem, to remember when searching for best results for depth of field and the elimination of camera shake, when not using a tripod or support. Use the camera on aperture priority. When setting the exposure.
1). Try and ensure the speed is twice the focal length of the lens. i.e. If you lens is 50mm, use an exposure of at least 100th second.
2). Given the above, try and achieve the maximum aperture possible. This may require you to up the ISO.
3). Most current camera’s start showing noise above 400 ISO, so keep an eye on that too.

Juggle that and you will get the most out of your camera, but may also end up with a headache.



11 Jan 2013

They say it may snow this weekend. Let me get over the giddiness of two days, nay three day of sunshine first.

Following last week’s photographs of Drax power station, I decided to have a go at Ferrybridge, which is nearer home and on route to my mother-in-laws. The sun was out and you can get a bit closer than at Drax. This however turned out to be as much of a problem as being too far away. The easiest way round this, is a series of shots to stitch together as a panorama. Using the camera in portrait, as previously discussed, gives more foreground and sky for the resultant photograph.

Early morning in the park, once again gave some low sun shots with long shadows.

On our run off we started out towards Ilkley. The weather was quite unusual. You could see the sun, but patches of fog kept coming and going. Heading towards Malham, visibility was more than patchy. We passed the source of the river Air at Airton heading for Settle. Coming out on Scosthrop Moor into sunshine and blue sky. Below us the higher pastures stuck out of the bank of fog. We came across a heard of Highland cattle. I don’t think I’ve seen as many in one place before. As we stood admiring the scenery and clicking away, the bank of fog rolled it’s way along, catching up with us from behind. We moved on, but it kept on coming.

We dropped into Settle for lunch settling (pun), for the Singing Kettle Café, just off the market place. All agreed it was a very satisfactory meal and reasonably priced. For me the specials boards contained the better choices.

We followed the road to Horton in Ribblesdale, the traditional start to the Three Peaks Challenge, i.e. to climb the three peaks of Whernside, Ingleborough and Pen y Ghent in less than 12 hours. Done it once and that’s good enough for me. The fog was thwarting our aims. We left Horton heading for Ribblehead, on route the sun began to burn through. A flock of sheep was being gathered in a field next to the road, to be moved indoors we eventually established from the most miserable, monosyllabic farmer you could ever meet. A few shots and we moved on. As we dropped again to the viaduct at Ribblehead, the fog was making it’s way up the valley and had already engulfed the viaduct. The sun was just bright enough to back-light a silhouette of the railway station and Ingleborough beyond. The eerie sound of an ‘invisible’ train passed over the viaduct, full Marley, chains and all and a hooter.

Traveling further along the valley to Hawes, low cloud hung over Widdale. Sunshine above on the fells. Sunshine below on the barns, with a blanket of cloud sandwiched in between. You had to see it to appreciate it.

A stop for tea at the Wensleydale Creamery resulted in purchases of cheese, may I point out by others, not me. Ah! There was the question of a drink and a cheese scone. I have never tasted a cheesier scone in my life and all made on the premises. Well it would be wouldn’t it Gromit!

We headed out of the creamery turning left through Gayle. Climbing up the edge of Sleddale. Sunset had passed and it was just about time to pack away the camera when we reached Langstrothdale Chase. To the west lay Ingleborough. The last vestiges of light and we had Ingleborough's peak stuck out of a sea of mist like an island below us. What a tremendous end to the day.






4 Jan 2013

Yes it is 2013! It’s not long a go that I wondered if I’d ever make it this far!

The short days don’t leave much time for photography. So you have two choices, stop or make the most of the night. So a couple of trips into Leeds City centre were called for. Hardly Manhattan, but I must do some more. The latter trip was for only one photograph for a submission called ‘night shots’ for the club. I found myself in need of one last image, so dashed into town on New Years Day night. The security guard near to the basin at lock number one on the Leeds Liverpool canal, enquired if I was doing this for gain, but when assure he quickly withdrew.

Long exposures smoothed out the water in the canal, but as it was quite breezy near the base of some of these new tall buildings, several shots had to be taken to ensure that a sharp image was obtained, yes even using a tripod. Did they really do wind tunnel checks on these developments a round the basin?

A run off later in the week took us out via Selby, then Holme on Spalding Moor and ultimately Drax. On route we dropped in at the Jolly Sailor at Newport on the old Howden to Hull Road. A very substantial meal and a very reasonable price. No wonder it was busy. On this occasion it was a nice fish, but around a year ago we had a massive mixed grill, which was too much to handle. Excellent value.

The day was saved photographically speaking, by the late afternoon sun breaking through as we approached Booth Ferry. Also the power station at Drax, which was gushing steam. The possibilities could be seen for miles, but we had to manoeuvre ourselves round the massive complex to get the sun in the right place. The fields in places is still like lakes, as the water tables are full to brimming. There is no end in sight for this fowl weather.



28 Dec 2012

I can’t believe the year is nearly over! The forecasters are telling us that it will be a record breaker for precipitation, as if we didn’t know it already. The last two weeks have brought more misery around the country through flooding. Yorkshire has had more than it’s fare share.

In my last note, I failed to mention that my Canon 60D had developed a fault. Fortunately it was still in warranty (just). The built in flash failed to open. Eventually I worked out the flash menu was indicating that a flash gun was attached on the hot shoe, where it wasn’t. On the Saturday I reluctantly took it back to Dale Photography, upstairs in the Merrion Centre, in Leeds, where I had bought it. I was told it would have to go back to Canon. 4 Weeks, given it was Christmas!

Monday there was a message, the camera had been repaired in store by their in house man (genious!). Deep joy! Some debris had got under the lip of the hot shoe, jamming the switch, which identifies that a flash is attached. “Did I not have a cover for the hot shoe”. No I wasn’t supplied one. Probably one of Canon’s extras, a 4p piece of plastic, which would cost an arm and a leg to buy direct from them. Just like the lens hoods. Thanks to Dale’s Photographic for going that extra mile. (I have ordered one, but not from Canon).

Photography was somewhat curtailed in the run up to Christmas and before I knew where I was the week had passed. A trip into Leeds did give me a couple of shots.

This weeks run off took us up into Langstrothdale. The river Wharfe was high, but not as bad as could be expected. Plenty of water caused some interest where it passed over and between boulders up near Yockenthwaite.

Every low-lying hollow, in every field has a pond. In places the water ran off the fields, through the dry stone walls onto the roads and either passed straight over into the opposite field or ran down the tarmac forming a stream. Pebbles and rocks are strewn over the carriageway. Pray it doesn’t freeze anytime soon.

We called in at the Wensleydale Pantry in Hawes for something to eat. Just in front in the queue, was a striking woman, I recognised from the television. Amanda Newsome. If you have seen the 'The Dales' with Ade Edmondson, she is the one who appears to be constantly pregnant with the perennially happy large family and a daughter who smiles from ear to ear all day. They say that TV puts on a few pounds on anyone that appears on the media. This one has put on inches in height. She was a good 6-foot tall and has shoulders that can swing a baby in one arm and a bail of hay under the other. Someone at the table was drinking milk by the pint, surely a great advertisement for the good air, exercise and the Dales lifestyle.

We drove on down the valley stopping at Bainbridge as the river was up and a first sight of the Archimedes screw generator at work. The river Bain is the shortest in the country at only 2.5 miles long. (Just thought I’d fit that in for you quiz masters).




















On the way back we visited the Cauldron Force at West Burton. Two dark for me, but I tried my best with the monopod.

Just south of Ripon we noticed the lights were on at Fountain’s Abbey. Stopping on the road just after dark, we could hear songs and music on the wind.

We are passed the winter solstice so we can look forward to longer days.



14 December 2012


This week was made a little easier because of the weather and a little harder by our beloved Leeds City Council.

We have had some sun, but have we had some very cold nights, which have dragged into the day and in fact hung around for full days, struggling to get above freezing. Latterly fog has been with us as it does at this time of year. Some has not lifted all day.

Dog walking proved more fruitful for photographs, which made up for my poor performance last week. Frost laden plants in Hall Park were a boon, although the single plimsoll in the leaf litter made me wonder what had gone on before my early morning arrival. I returned to the ‘scene’ with my DSLR as I wasn’t happy with the first results.

I also wanted some photographs taken at night. The early sunset in December afford the opportunity of it being ‘dark’, without being out really late. So we traipsed into town, tripods and all. The Town Hall was well lit, and then it was on to the Christkindelmarket, the Leeds German style Christmas extravaganza in Centenary Square, which in the past had provided a good source of photographs with plenty of colourful stalls and a gallopers roundabout.

Soon after arriving we came across two Leeds City Council ‘Wardens’, dressed in their full regalia of florescent clothing and CCTV cameras strapped to their chest. Due to cut backs, the traditional greeting of “Merry Christmas” or similar, has been replaced by “Do you have a permit for that camera?” “You have to have a permit to take photographs with a tripod and anything that looks like a professional camera”. “Did you not see the sign on entry?” Arguing the toss I doubted would be fruitful, as the replies to my first simple enquires like, “Where do I get a permit” was repeatedly “the Council”. The question of why such a (draconian) measure had been introduced, only met with the well-used German phrase roughly translated as ‘I’m only following orders’. Which sort of fit the style of the occasion. Perhaps the event should be renamed the Kristallnacht another old Bavarian inspired event. The guys were polite enough, but the lack of knowledge like, ‘is this a public place’ and ‘under what powers was this order made’, seemed doomed not to secure an adequate technical response. Not to mention were they aware of the Home Office Directive mainly (aimed at the police I admit), to lay off the law-abiding photographers. I was also approached by an attendant from the gallopers roundabout, expressing the owners opinion that he did not like photographs being taken, as it may attract peadophiles!

Out of interest I followed up this encounter the following day at the events department at Leeds City Council. They said I could apply for a permit, but I had to specify when I would be going. They stated it was a public thoroughfare and ‘rules’ were to prevent obstruction by (presumably inconsiderate) photographers hogging the flagstones! Unlike a family of four eating their Bratwurst, watching the children on the Gallopers. It’s also interesting to see how many photographs of the fair appear on FlickR. Are these covert picture taken by perverts (sorry folk). Last year we were branded potential terrorist. This year it’s peadophiles!

My considered opinion is to keep your money in your pocket and avoid the Christkindelmarket avoiding the antisocial drunks, high prices and paedo’s and the council wardens. Not necessarily in that order. I didn’t mention the other umpteen restrictions or powers they have taken. For example searches of your person and possessions. Merry Christmas, Leeds City Council.

Back to base. The run off this week was delayed through fog and icy roads. Midmorning it was out over the Wharfe at Pool in Wharfedale, then into Leathley. The mist and fog created some good effects. We turned north and passed over Lindley Reservoir. Stopping to take some shots of the ice, frost and mist. You take your life in your own hands on the bridge; speeding motorists without brake peddles are commonplace.

We continued into Pateley Bridge eating at the Teacups Café in the Cattle Market. Good wholesome, large portions competitively priced and a friendly down to earth establishment. Just like the clientele. Outside the persistant cold was shown off by the frost covered spiders webs.

I’ve already said about the days drawing in, we now turned tail and start for home, crossing back over Askwith Moor, dropping into Otley. Stopping of on route for some shot of frozen grasses and plants.



7 December 2012

Must try harder! That’s would be the school report. At the beginning of the week we had some lovely sunny mornings, but I managed to fritter them away. One morning I was up before dawn and having walked the dog noticed the power station plumes on the horizon. I remembered an ideal viewing place was from Cookridge, the highest place in Leeds, so I shot up there. Bitterly cold.

Also early in the week, I returned to High Royds Hospital, at Guiseley. Until recently what the Victorian’s called a mental asylum. On the run off last week I noticed the light was good, but did not have the opportunity to stop and take advantage. I drove into the long sweeping driveway and spotted the pond, which I thought would give a foreground to the panorama I envisaged. Out of interest, the long sweeping drive was to keep the inmates out of view (and vice versa) of the public. Hence the term ‘being driven round the bend’.

I took several overlapping shots, this time in portrait format, which could be stitched together. Using that format gives more foreground to the image. Using this technique the stitched panorama gives a very large high definition image, not achievable with a single photograph and a massive file!

The forecast for the day of our run off, had started earlier in the week with sunshine. Which may have led me to be complacent. Over the week it changed and snow was forecast. If we got out, the thought of some wintry shots reassured me that I would have something to show.

We set off once again heading northeast. The snow could be seen on the tops of the Pennines. At Ilkley, we crossed the Wharfe and I took the opportunity to visit the stepping-stones. The puddles and fields around were frozen, but the sky was grey, I hoped with snow. I took several shots, using different apertures to get a variation on the depth of field. But without the opportunity to set up a tripod, the latitude to avoid camera shake was quite limited as the exposures dropped below a 60th of a second. Anyway we had other eggs to fry and we moved on.

Disappointment followed us round. The grey sky’s continued as we headed towards Pateley Bridge, crossed the river turning north towards Masham.

We had lunch in the Market Place at Border House Café. We had been there before, but the warming chicken curry was a little disappointing. The others appeared satisfied with their meals and the prices were quite reasonable.

Even after the call at the Oldie Worlde sweet shop (no purchase necessary or made) the sun singularly failed to show. The early onset of darkness caused us to set off for home, at what was no more than mid afternoon. We came back via the Lightwater Valley Shopping Village. A cold and at this time a very quiet part of the world. But we all found something to buy.

On coming out it was now dark, raining and freezing. It was lucky I took the stepping-stones, photographs, as I’d have nothing to show for the day and not a lot for the week. Must try harder!



30 November 2012

Walking the dog and making sure I have my pocket sized TZ20 with me has given me one or two of the results this week. I decided early on to look for some patterns, following what I thought was last week’s success with the sawn wood planks. I discovered that changing batteries in freezing conditions without removing my gloves proved more than a little tricky. Perhaps I should invest in some of those fingerless ones.

Later on the run off coincided with a beautiful autumnal day, but barely saw the temperature get much above freezing. We headed northwest to Ilkley, calling in at the stepping-stone on the river Wharfe again looking for patterns in the landscape.

We moved on quickly to Bolton Abbey another possession of the Duke of Devonshire. Considering the reports of widespread flooding over recent days, the river Wharfe looked surprisingly low. Having said that, it is supposed to be one of the quickest flowing rivers around. The frost was widespread and the low yellowy Autumnal sun offered some different perspectives. The rocks and frozen grasses in the river were pointed out to me and I was surprised at the pleasing results.

We considered lunch at the busy Cavendish Pavilion by the river was quite busy. We decided to carry on to Hawes. We travelled north skirting Grassington, by Kilnsey Crags to Buckden where we turned west into Langstrothdale then over the tops towards Gayle and Hawes. A clear look over towards Ingleborough revealed no snow on the tops and the alleged view of the Morecambe Bay wasn’t evident either.

Lunch was at Wensleydale Pantry was rewarding and we marveled at the choice available. 30 mains plus 3 specials plus 21 sweets! A quick call in at the Wensleydale Creamery was a mistake! Not my own idea I wish to point out. (Some big lads did it and then ran away!)

The days are short and before we knew it we were approaching sunset. We headed east down the south side of Wensleydale. The sun clipping the top edges of the other side of the valley. meeting a gritter on route. We missed Leyburn by turning off at Wensley, then south towards Ripon and Harrogate, but now in the dark. A steady run home.



23 Nov 2012

This appears to get harder every week. How do you talk about photography without talking about light, vis-a- vis the weather? We have had some sun, but mainly appalling heavy rain and latterly high winds. The remaining leaves on the trees are hanging on for dear life, but most are on the ground, but there are some amazing colours around.

On one of my daily walks a group of trees caught my eye. But I had to wait for some decent sun to catch them. Looking around the leaf litter for a suitable subject was rewarded by a very satisfying image.

Later in the week we chanced our arm with a run off into North Yorkshire. Some early sun appeared to run against the advice of the Met Office. Well before we managed to reach a very busy Malton, what was left of the sun was making it’s way into the North Sea. A decent sausage and very bacon sandwich was had at the Market Place Café. But there were a lot of very interesting grub being had by ‘them that does lunches’. Including the tower of sandwiches and cakes being had by two ladies adjacent, but with Coke!

We continued toward north towards Pickering, and then took the road, which runs next to the North Yorkshire Moors Railway. Surprising how much railway stock they do have on every bit of spare line. To late, we remembered that the rough road down into Levisham had been closed on our last visit, so we sent of west through Cropton, Lastingham through Hutton-le-Hole and stopped off at Beadlam Grange, just outside Beadlam it’s self. A farm with café, butchers and fancy goods shop.

I noticed the patterns in the sawn wood used to construct an outbuilding. I could have included loads more photos on the website, as I found them quite intriguing. It became a game like reading the tealeaves looking for shapes and giving them names. Here I was also let down by my companions, being forced to eat a cream scone. Then they sneakily took photos to be ‘used against me at a later date’, they said.

We came back through Helmsley and Easingwold. No sunset was seen and the rain met us as we entered West Yorkshire at Poole in Wharfedale.