February 2013

 

 

 

 

 
Begin your walk at the hospital car park. Follow the yellow brick road of childhood to the kissing gate of hormonal teenagers, then fork left and take the gentle incline through Twenty Something Lane.

Around 3 years down you’ll see a stile on the right. (Sometimes the hedgerow is a little overgrown here but there’s another stile a little further down for those enjoying the wild flowers on the lane.)

Once over the stile you’re into the Pasture of the Big Wide World. Stop and soak up the view here as there’s a lot to take in. There is a clear track through the grass but mind the odd thistle and mud patch along the way. Once over the second stile take the bench and think hard before moving on.

You have 2 options here, you can take the 30 year scenic coastal route past wild orchids and rare birds or you can take the more treacherous 20 year route through the Forest of Capitalist Doom. Either way, each passes the Boulder of Middle Age but there’s a steep ascent through the woodland and you’ll need suitable attire here to fend off the pesky nettles!

Each route is clearly signposted and leads to the Waterfall of Retirement. Here you can picnic, paddle in the river and reflect on life’s journey. The hospital car park is off to your left – a few short years away.

Emma Melling, July 2012

Travellers through Time – 30^th November 2012

Milestones are literal as well as metaphorical


I sat on the TransPennine train leaving Leeds –
Passing boarded-up houses, smart empty apartments,
Old mills sprouting shrubs from the tops of their chimneys –
Speeding to York cross agrarian landscapes;
The Wharfe bursting free from her corsetting banks,
Turning flat fields to silver in the bright winter sun.

Flashing through Linton, my thoughts collocating
Recalled other travellers from far distant days
Riders who travelled on foot or by horseback,
Footprints on muddy tracks, marking the ways

The first King Edward setting out sorrowfully
From Lincoln to London, following the coffin
Of Eleanor of Castile, his much beloved Queen,
Taking the long route around through Northampton –
The Great northwards Road, the King’s very own Highway
Full flooded to quagmire from the spill of the Nene.

The farm-labourers and servants, tramping the turnpikes
To Michaelmas hiring fairs, holding mattock or mop,
To be sealed for a shilling, for another year’s labour,
Their lives zig-zagging from homestead to homestead,
Passing by milestones as they moved on again –
Events marked by milestones on footpaths through time.

I thought about students whose own lives will zigzag,
Through waysides untrodden in their ancestors’ time,
And events and turning points, their own personal milestones
Will be recklessly tagged on facebook’s timeline.

 Eleanor Cross

 King Edward I had elaborate stone crosses erected in memory of his wife Eleanor of Castile, marking the twelve overnight   resting-places along the route taken in 1290 when her body was transported to London. Only three remain in place today, at Geddington, Hardingstone and Waltham Cross; Charing Cross is a replacement.

Jan Scrine
30 November 2012

This is the story of a guide stoop. Errr, wot’s a stoop? Stay with me and you’ll find out!

How did people find the way before there were satnavs, before there were maps or even roads? Yes, they asked other people, who said ‘turn left at the big tree’ or ‘go straight past the tall stone’ – but trees fall over and stones get used for buildings. People easily got lost, especially on the moors of the Pennines.

 In the late 1600s, a lady and her two children set out to walk the twenty miles to Sheffield to spend Christmas with her sister. They lost their way and their bodies were not found till the snow melted in Spring; they were huddled together in a hollow. This caused a public outcry and the Government passed a law in 1697, making the local Justices set up markers on tracks across the moors and at places where these tracks met. These way-markers were made of locally-available materials, and in the Pennines that meant stone. The word ‘stoop’ comes from the Norse word for a stone, so guide stoops are guide stones.

Now let’s look at an example…

The one in the picture is at Farnley Tyas, at the junction of three packhorse tracks, now tarmac’d roads. It is a typical example and is designated Grade ll* listed, by English Heritage, so has been protected by railings.

Let’s take a closer look and see what the lettering says. On this side, it has the names of Jono Hoyle Constable and Thos Bottmly Surveyor, and a date, 1738. At that time, the parishes or townships were responsible for the highways and tracks that passed through; local people had to spend several days each year working on repairing the roadways or else pay money instead. The Constable enforced the law and the Surveyor organised road works – both were unpaid  jobs. The stone mason didn’t allow much space for fitting in their names!

Let’s look at the next side. To ‘Hudderffield 3 miels’ No, he hasn’t made a mistake spelling Huddersfield, that was the old way of writing an ‘s’, it looked like an ‘f’. But he has spelled ‘miels’ very quaintly.

Now let’s look at the other sides – Holmfirth 2 miles,  Pennyftone 6 miles, with pointing hands.  Now that you know about the f for s, you can read Pennystone, or Penistone.  But look, ‘miles’ is spelled correctly on both these sides ! Do you think the stone mason had too much ale to drink with his lunch and forgot how to spell? Or did he leave it to his apprentice to finish the carving, maybe?!

This guidestoop has stood guard over this junction for nearly 300 years. At some time, someone fixed a sundial to the top, the marks are still visible.

Because it’s ‘listed’, it can’t be improved or modified without the consent of Kirklees Council’s Planning Department, but Shelley Parish Council had the railings repainted and a stainless steel plaque made, to tell people about the stoop.

How would YOU tell your friends about it? On facebook? on twitter? or writing a poem, doing a painting, making a model?