Saturday, 10 May 2014

Here be Dragons - Yorkshire Dales




Bunting flutters from the lamp-posts in the little stations, paint trim 

in red and cream. Cream flags and red dragons. We start to talk 

about dragons. Saint George of course, though I have never 

reconciled myself to his dragon slaying.



Saint Serf too, according to legend, as well as miracle worker was a 

slayer of dragons with his pastoral staff (and a founder of churches 

in Scotland) in an area of Pictdom at the time, presumably when 

there were dragons at large. Odd thing though, born in the Levant, 

a pope in Rome for a few years, then he came to Scotland. One can 

only wonder why.







 
The dragon - which is really a wyvern
The bunting was put up to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the 

saving of the Settle to Carlisle railway line. You can see the 

Midland Railway coat of arms below [photograph credit – chevin]











And you can find out more about wyverns here


The Settle-Carlisle line was marked for closure in 1989, but

popular protests succeeded in keeping it open. The stations are

tidy, painted, well looked after, some of them have been turned 

into upmarket holiday accommodation, and the one at Ribblehead 

houses a small museum.




There's a gathering of people, all holding cameras, in the field 

opposite, when we alight at Ribblehead. Apparently the first goods 

train of the year (they don't run in winter, perhaps because of the 

uncertainty of the weather) is about to leave the station, and the 

keen train enthusiasts are out ready to catch this momentous event 

on film. We did not know this, but just happen to arrive there only 

a few minutes before the goods train moves slowly out of the

siding, with its long cargo of logs.









It then stops, and reverses. We ask the museum attendant why. 

That, she says, camera slung round her neck, is what I'm wondering.









We don't linger to discover the reason why because I can't wait to 

start walking along the path that leads past the Ribblehead viaduct 

and goes on into the hills.




Ribblehead Viaduct





Another view of the viaduct, slightly bent and distorted, and with 

one arch missing. Flawed and imperfect, but not an outright lie, it 

has merely bent the truth a little...







  






The path follows the railway for a couple of miles then crosses 

over the tracks on a walled path. Next to it the river too, is carried 

over the tracks on its own little aqueduct. 











The river seems to like its artificial bed with its carefully aligned 

rectangular cobbles stepped into layers to lower the water level 

gradually before it returns to its natural bed. The railway tracks the 

aqueduct crosses over, can just be seen in the background, 

bordered by trees.








Looking back over the valley.




















The next day is hard because it has been a long time since I've

walked very far carrying a backpack. I have toothache, my feet 

soon hurt and my backpack feels very heavy though I thought I 

was carrying the absolute minimum (except for bringing 3 books 

when clearly one would do! And as it turned out I read hardly 

anything, certainly after that first day I was so tired I didn't even 

read before falling asleep).



 

Two or three miles brings us to the Dales Way. A little further on  

we see the Dentdale viaduct 








and stop for lunch beside the river that runs underneath it.











3 bridges, the old pedestrian one, the mighty foot of one of the arches of the viaduct, and beyond it, the road bridge






It may not be clear in the picture below, but the trunk of this tree 

emerges from the near river bank and grows horizontally across to 

the other bank. The branches grow vertically out of the horizontal 

trunk.










Close to the old bridge, used by people on foot

and horse drawn carts -

next to the railway viaduct

and the road bridge just beyond it -

a willow tree grows on the river bank



The tree trunk is horizontal

perhaps in imitation of the bridges -

its imitation being praise - 

or perhaps it was the other bank that drew it on -

its straight, unswerving love



  



The trail then mostly follows the river. 












The Arten Gill viaduct in the distance












At last, the village of Dent comes into sight. 














The cherry tree beside the church in Dent.











The church was built to praise God's glory.


The cherry tree praises, glories.


7 comments:

The Solitary Walker said...

Ah, lovely stuff, Dritanje!

I've walked or driven under that most scenic of railways, the Settle-Carlisle line, several times. And trekked the whole of the sublime Dales Way a while ago. Dent is special — I've camped there twice — but I must admit I remember the Sun Inn more clearly than the church :)

dritanje said...

Yes I thought you might well be familiar with the Dales Way, Solitary Walker! It was a great discovery for me, but I only had a few days to explore. I know I'll go back to walk other parts of it when I can. And yes, the Sun Inn is great, we stayed 2 nights there, fantastic breakfasts!

LE CHEMIN DES GRANDS JARDINS said...

Véritable excursion touristique , que tu nous propose, là dans ce superbe post qui t'a certainement demandé beaucoup de temps. Aussi, je l'ai lu dans les moindres détails. Ce pays est d'un vert étonnant, ce qui veut dire qu'il pleut souvent. On voit aussi que les hommes ont apporté beaucoup de soin à cette eau sans qui la vie n'est plus la même. Les ouvrages d'art sont magnifiquement construits comme cet aqueduc impressionnant.
Un grand merci pour toutes ces photos. Bien amicalement.

Roger

dritanje said...

Merci Roger, et oui, tu as raison, les champs sont si verts à cause de tant de pluie ! La pluie ne nous manque pas dans cet île mais parfois le bleue du ciel. Je le trouve impressionnante que tu as souvent beaucoup de couleurs dans tes desseins.

three sea horses said...

It is is long since I last come on blog. This is a lovely walk, beautiful pics too!
Interested in st serf, it seems he died just before st Columba turned up at Dalriada - who made inroads into Pictland and brought Christianity ... But obviously st serf was actually before st C. These old stories/histories fascinate me, and the places often hold such a sense of their pasts. I understand that histories of a saint were sometimes written as sort of propaganda, sometimes exaggerated!
I learned at college how the western seaboard of scotland in those times was like the M1 - part of a main highway, most travel was by sea and what are now thought of as being relatively remote we're then busy and visited by many from far and wide.
Lovely blog post, M! Xx

Anonymous said...

A place I have always meant to visit since Russell Harty lived there. Hope that the toothache has gone.

dritanje said...

3 sea horses - I like the depiction of the sea ways being like the M1. Can just imagine it too.
I decided to check out St Serf recently because I passed the street where I went to kindergarten, at St. Serf's school. Pleased he was a Levantine. Still don't know what brought him to Scotland. Divine guidance I suppose.

Anonymous - yes thankyou, my toothache left later that day, never to return.