Yarn, Yorkshire and All Manner of Wonderful Things!

Posts tagged ‘North York Moors’

Moors Tour Bus

Hop aboard the Tour Bus for a trip to the Moors, where the heather has reached its magnifcent best.

What a place to live hey, the air smells of honey and the noise from the bees deafening.

Beware when the heather disappears and its place there is sedge grass- there be bogs.

Beekeepers take full advantage of the heather and with permission from the landowner move their bee hives to gain full advantage from the heather.

Only after we had walked past these hives

with bees buzzing round them, did I think it a very silly idea.

“We shouldn’t go back that way” I said. “But how do we get back to the car?” said Mr E, “we can’t walk across the moor with no footpath.” And of course he is right you should never ever just set off across the moors without proper provisions etc etc, people get lost all the time.

“But we only walked in a straight line and along a bit, I can hear the road and there are sheep tracks!” Poor Mr E couldn’t hear the road, and for a clever chap he has no sense of direction at all. For a less clever lady , I do. But it is hard going walking through heather. Which was how I realised that these stones that act as way marks really do work.  You see them from afar and know you are going in the right direction as you head towards them. This one  near where we left the car, served as our guide. Our ancestors sure knew a thing or two.

If you would like to read more about the heather on our moors , go here

Hope you have enjoyed the little visit to the wonderful moors. The heather lasts for such a short time, you just have to seize the moment.

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One a week Photo Challenge- Cross

The Ralph Cross, on the North York Moors. This is a way mark for travellers on the moors, before the days of Sat Nav. Picture taken August 2014, from my archive.

Next week’s prompt is Fiction.

Happy Snapping!

Rosedale East

Ten miles from Pickering is the village of Rosedale Abbey. There is no Abbey just a rather nice parish church which I once visited for Sunday Spires a few years back. There is a pub and a campsite and super riverside cafe selling cream teas. Stock up because we are going exploring. 1 1/2 miles out of Rosedale Abbey on the road to Castleton is a sharp left turn to Upton, otherwise known as Rosedale East.

Pretty and peaceful, the Dale spreads out in front of you. But look closely, because that is not a natural view. Once upon a time this valley ( Dale) was once completely forested. Gradually it was cleared for sheep to graze and the wealthy to shoot grouse. The moorland heather and gorse took over. But look again even closer, notice that there appears to be a ridge or road running along the far side. It’s not a road but the remains of a railway which runs right around the Dale. For this was once the hub of  coal mining and iron works which only stopped production in the 1920’s. Let’s walk.

A few houses remain. This is School Row, now mostly second homes and holiday cottages.

And this is High Row. Again no phone signal here, get stuck and you will need that phone box.

The iron works were very short-lived. This little community went from 558 people in 1851 to 2,839 in 1871,then 1396 in 1901 to 286 in 1961. Each house was occupied by a family and several miners who lodged with them. Everyone else was housed in Rosedale Abbey.

I visited at the end of April, the sun was shining but boy was it windy. Imagine what it must have been like to work there through some really severe winters.

Let’s go on.

This farm stands on the site of what was the iron foreman’s house. The miners had to walk up the track every day past his more luxurious accommodation to go to work. Passing the house on the left the track becomes the old railway line, all that remains of that is a cinder track.

This is what remains of the Coal depot, for this was the end of the railway which transported iron up to North East.

Walking along the top of the Dale now past the Old calcinating Kilns where the iron ore was processed.

The chimney up above is a ventilation shaft for the  coal mines below ground.

Looking back along the way I walked the railway is the lower ridge and the tramway which connected everything is above, by the remains of buildings on the higher level.

Here I paused at the site of a ruined house.

Love the fireplace, and can you imagine the view from the window.

I clambered up to the tramway with numerous rabbits for company to explore the top buildings.

A row of cottages.

Workshops long gone.

Not a bridge to nowhere but the forgotten entrance to a coal mine.

I say a while , just me , the curlews and rabbits. Peaceful and calm. All the noise and busyness gone, but not forgotten. I shall find out more, I am hooked on this place.

So long Rosedale East.

I hope you enjoyed my walk and exploration of quite a different kind of Yorkshire village. And if you ever go yourself, tell the rabbits I sent you.

 

 

 

 

Cropton.

One of my 17 for 2017 goals is to write 12 posts about our lovely Yorkshire villages. The first of these features the village of Cropton which lies about 5 miles from Pickering on the edge of the North York Moors. Some of the houses are now holiday cottages, the school has closed and any shops have vanished, but there is still a thriving local community, with an active WI ( Women’s Institute) , Village Hall, public house, and parish church which is open every day. Let’s explore.

The spreading chestnut tree greets you as you approach the village, the bench is there for the rather spectacular view down the valley.  I think this must be all that remains of a village green.

Village pump and water for passing horses and dogs.

Looking up the main street which runs through the village.

This building is now the village hall, called a reading room. Reading rooms were usually built by public subscription from the more well to do, to provide a meeting place for villagers to meet, read the newspapers of the day and borrow worthy books. An alternative to the pub! Recently refurbished thanks to the efforts of the villagers and the lottery fund.

The old school, looking a bit worse for wear. I love the school bell, imagine being summoned to school by that. Hopefully this building will be renovated and no doubt become a home for someone.  The house next door was full of workmen when I visited.

The thatch was new and there was much banging and hammering coming from within.

A row of typical village houses. Note the chimneys to the right side of the roof and the front doors to the centre. Apparently that is the local style of building in these parts and if you want to build a new house in Ryedale, this is the standard to which they MUST conform. The red pantiles are traditional to this area too.

This however is my favourite house

It’s called Cruck cottage and is a delight. Cruck being the timber frame on which old homes were built.

Now Cropton doesn’t have any claims to fame, but infamy is a different kettle of fish. If you are of a nervous/weak disposition  or just ate your dinner, do not read the rest of this paragraph. In 1872 Joseph Wood (58) and his son ( he had two sons aged 9 and 4, not certain which one this was) vanished without a trace from their farm. Mr Wood had taken to carrying large sums of money about his person. On 17 May Robert Charter, cousin to Mr Wood , said they had just gone away. Mr Wood’s brother John who also lived in Cropton thought this unlikely as Joseph had not told him. It transpired that their older brother William knew nothing either.  A letter purporting to come from Joseph was posted in Liverpool, but John said it wasn’t Joseph’s writing.

In July the police and John went to the farm in which Robert was now living. There was a very strange smell from one of the buildings. Robert said it was putrid meat he had found. In September a proper search was conducted revealing watches, boots,, clothing and amputated limbs which were subsequently identified as Joseph Wood. In November there was yet another search and this time child’s boots were found in a boiler house used for the preparation of cattle food. I shan’t go any further with this story! ( information of this tale comes from “Round and About The North Yorkshire Moors” by Tom Scott Burns and Martin Rigg which I borrowed this morning after my visit).

Villagers pulled down Robert Charters own house  such was his notoriety. Robert Charter was sent to prison for murder but released after a long prison service. He became a Methodist preacher and died in the workhouse in Malton.

Moving swiftly on, I found this being used as a garden ornament

At the far end of the street and across the fields is the village church of St Gregory. Now this church was rebuilt in Queen Victoria’s reign, but there was probably a church back here in Saxon times. Bit more info here

Can you imagine a more idyllic place to be buried?

My Godmother who is also a cousin of some sort ( Dad and Joan were cousins, although she was 15 years older than him), just so happens to be buried here. Aunty Joan and her husband had a farm just outside the village in the valley below.

Did I mention a castle? Probably not as there is not a great deal to see these days, just the motte ( hill where the keep was) and Bailey (courtyard).

But by golly there is a good view from up there.

Are you feeling a bit hot and bothered by all this exploring, let’s find that pub.

Oh my Gosh, it has its own brewery too, around which you can take a tour – New Inn brewery. 

Saved the best till last, hey? I am told it is very, very good beer, and there is a campsite right next door.

Cheers everyone, I hope you enjoyed the visit., and will come with another time.

 

 

 

This week!

It turned quite chilly here this week. Time for some hunkering down, with all things woolly and stitchery!

I started with a little Secret Santa stitching.

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Project bag from my Secret Santa last year being put to good use again. Thanks Tialys

Then some more Secret Santa stitching.

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Then I got distracted and made up this cushion. I had bought the front piece at the Whitby Quilt Exhibition earlier this year.

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Front and back

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Anyone would think we were nearing Christmas. There was a super moon this week, which did make an appearance here. Despite my best efforts to take a picture on my little camera, I failed so no picture of a super moon. There was some baking of jammy buttons.

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Which nicely emptied three jars of jam which were lurking in the fridge, homemade plum , rhubarb and ginger and shop bought raspberry. I needed the jars for … secret santa

On Friday I attended my family history group meeting which was held in a freezing cold village hall.

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The talk was about DNA testing to trace your origins. Maybe I will do this one day. I would love to know if I have any Viking ancestors.

Finally there was some more crocheting going on. Three more blocks for the Deco blanket. Colours are inspired by heather on the  North York Moors and yarn is by Stylecraft .

 

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Another tinsel Owl arrived last night, but she is exhausted and not up to posing for her picture today, Maybe next week.

Hope you had a great week and wish you all the best for next week. Love to hear what you have been up too.

My coming week is going to be Busy! Bring it on!

Sunday Sevens!

Sunday Sevens was created by Natalie at Threads and Bobbins. A series of seven pictures from the last week, or my case the last goodness knows how long.

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I am opting for a chronological way of sharing my pictures. This gorgeous lot of fabrics came from a craft fair I visited back in June. Scraps but some jolly good big pieces. £3 a bargain I think.

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Scarborough, and a lovely day out with Mr E in July.

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Don’t you love these woofers. My unbirthday present, received, by coincidence, on Mr E’s birthday, from the wonderful Claire. 

Thank you Claire they are adorable.

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I visited my brother in Wales last week. We had a marvellous day out at Big Pit in Blaenavon

Incredibly it costs £3 to park the car and there is no charge for entry to the Pit. A fascinating visit, but watch your head for low flying ceilings. Thank goodness for hard hats.

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I came across my old rattle at Mum’s! And it still sort of makes a noise. I hesitate to call it a toy noise, but it does rattle. There may be some loose bits inside!!

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And so to yesterday and a trip out to check the heather on the moors. Not quite at peak perfection, but this sheep was happy enough.

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Especially when the crazy woman with camera departed the scene.

Hoping you are having a happy and fulfilled Summer.

 

Back Yard Exploration!

The heather is out on the North York Moors in all its glory, and it being Bank Holiday weekend Mr E and I had a day out, exploring our own back yard, never getting further than 15 miles from home.

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The smell is just divine, imagine honey and then more honey and that’s how the moors smell at this time of year.

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This is Farndale, love the remains of the stone building in the background.

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And this would be Rosedale, looking beautiful and completely natural, look carefully for all round this Dale are the remains of

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a railway line which served the needs of the local iron industry. At one time Rosedale also had a glass blowing industry the furnace for which is in the Ryedale Folk museum, and from the talk at our Family History Group this week I hear that come this winter the glass furnace will feature in a programme made by the Countryfile team.

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My little camera tried as hard as it could to show the remains of the iron industry, which if you click on the picture itself you may be able to see.

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Scattered across the moors are waymarkers/crosses like this one. The Ralph Cross, now symbol of the park authority,is possibly 700 years old.

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This is Duck Bridge and is a medieval pack horse bridge, not wide enough for cars but just wide enough for a pack horse with fully laden paniers to pass over.

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Pretty narrow! Enough to perplex any sat nav- fortunately there is a ford just the other side. Here’s another..

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This one is called Beggars Bridge. The story is that a poor young man called Tom Ferris fell in love with The Squires’ daughter, Agnes. Tom went away to sea and wished to say Goodbye before he left, but couldn’t cross the river by the Ford as the river was in full spate. Four years later he returned a wealthy man, married his Agnes and built the Bridge so that no couple should ever be unable to see their loved one.

Just love these old tales.. Onwards

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Have to have a picture of sheep on the moors. The sheep know exactly which their bit of moor is and don’t stray, somehow the knowledge is passed onto the lambs by the ewes. You do have to drive with care as they wander onto the roads and into the villages. I don’t want to make this post too long but I have some super pictures of sheep for another post.

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So I will just leave as I began with the lovely heather on the moors- this taken near Hutton le Hole.

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Hope everyone in the UK enjoyed the Bank Holiday weekend, and some managed to do some exploring in their own neighbourhood.

 

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