Captain's Log

Barden Bridge

The BBC Weather Forecast showed a trail of blue blobs progressing from west to east across the Dales for most of the day. It was going to be a showery one. Consequently, I didn’t really fancy climbing high and so I suggested to the Kapitan, Cabin Boy and Ted that we do a lower level walk along the River Wharfe. We’d park at Barden Bridge and follow the river downstream on its eastern bank to Bolton Abbey. Then we’d return to Barden Bridge on the other side of the river. Halfway along the outward trek we’d complete a 30 minute out-and-back to visit the impressive Posforth Gill Force waterfall in the Valley of Desolation. There would also be a chance of coffee and carrot cake at the Cavendish Pavilion’s café, if I could coax my walking partners into a visit. A lot of the walk would be under the canopy of trees and so if the blue blobs did shed rain, as the weather forecasters had predicted, then we’d be offered some protection from the watery onslaught. 

We arrived at Barden Bridge, just after 08:00 and parked in the free parking area on its eastern side. The sky was an ominous grey. Not surprisingly, after last night’s rain,  there was a large volume of water flowing down the Wharfe. A squadron of Oystercatchers screeched their way along the Wharfe in close formation. I suspected that it wouldn’t be long before we would be putting on our waterproofs. 

Harrison's Ford

Our dry start only lasted about 10 minutes. This was enough time for us to reach Barden Aqueduct, a turreted stone bridge that crosses the river. Apart from providing a footpath across the river, it also transports water on a 32 mile journey to the Nidd Aqueduct. Fortunately, the start of the rain coincided with our entry into the wooded area along the river bank. Even so, there was still so much rain coming through that I was glad to be wearing my waterproofs. 

I’d not walked this eastern section of the path, between Barden Aqueduct and the Cavendish Pavilion. I was interested to see what it offered. It climbed quite high on a steep bank. The surrounding woodland prevented a good view of the river below. Occasionally there would be a break in the trees and we’d get a wonderful view of the torrent below. Eventually we came to a shelter with a roof and I suggested to my fellow walkers that we should take a break in it. They happily agreed to get some respite from the rain. A sign below the roof indicated that this was Harrison’s Ford Seat. I half expected to see the hand-prints of the Star Wars actor in a concrete slab at its entrance, but further research revealed it to have nothing to do with the Hollywood start whatsoever. My map showed Harrison’s Ford on the river below and so I guess it must have been a crossing point at some time in the past. I wouldn’t have fancied crossing it today given the river level. A small bridge across the narrow Strid would have seemed an easier crossing point, but it seems nobody thought of that. The sun made an appearance as we left the shelter. 

Posforth Gill Force

The rain returned as we turned away from the river on an out-and-back to view Posforth Gill Force. The waterfall was located in an area called the Valley of Desolation. It derived its name from a great storm that devastated the woodland in 1826. There’s no sign of the devastation now though, although the forestry company does nuke some of the plantations higher up the valley, now and again. The footpath down to Posforth Gill Force wasn’t particularly well signed from the approach path. In fact, there was no sign at all and could be easily missed, if you have your head deep in an anorak hood. We followed the footpath to the waterfall and it gradually descended towards Posforth Gill Beck. There’s an option to cross a footbridge and approach the waterfall from the western side. This offers better and closer views of the waterfall. We stuck to the eastern side path and it didn't get as close. It still did give a reasonable view of the waterfall though and was well worth the diversion. We started to retrace our steps towards the River Wharfe. 

Chiming

On our return to the river there was an option to use a footbridge to cross to the other side and visit the cafe at the Cavendish Pavillion. I decided the visit could wait until our return journey later on in the day. We continued our journey along the eastern bank of the river and it wasn’t long before it started climbing high into the woodland again. There were a few innovative playground installations for the kids along the trail. One of these was a set of metal musical chimes attached to a wooden frame. The Kapitan couldn’t resist and he skipped up to the instrument and started striking random notes with the mallet. He turned around with a grin and we congratulated him for his efforts. In order to prevent him continuing to make a further din, I walked up and grabbed the mallet off him. After striking each metal tube to attune my ear to their notes, I then went on to play all the verses and chorus of Do-Re-Mi from the Sound of Music. My marimba days had been decades ago, but like riding a bike, one never loses the talent. 

The path descended back towards the river. It opened up a glorious view of the ruins of Bolton Abbey on the other side. The river meanders into a crook at this point. A lot of the stepping stones were covered with water; it was definitely not a day to attempt using them. We used the footbridge instead and headed towards Bolton Abbey. 

Bolton Abbey

I’d not been in the working priory at Bolton Abbey and so I suggested to the team that we might go in to have a look. To my surprise, they all agreed. Maybe that had something to do with the threatening black cloud that was approaching and destined to unload its water onto us. On entering the front entrance we found the rector performing a historical talk to half a dozen listeners. There was a donation box in the centre of the entrance area and we couldn’t really pass it without making some offering under the rector’s canny eye. I unlocked my wallet and started rolling pound coins into the money box slot. Unfortunately my coins rolled and crashed to the bottom with such calamity that it sounded pretty much like a ‘penny-shove’ machine at a Scarborough amusement arcade. The noise interrupted the rector’s flow and he suggested we subscribe to his group for the tour. Like sheep with their shepherd, we followed him through a door into the main area of the priory.
‘Does anyone know why we call this area the nave?’ the rector asked.
‘It’s derived from the latin, ‘navis’ meaning ship. The timbers and shape of the roof look like an upturned ship’ I answered. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the Kapitan, Cabin Boy and Ted had turned away and were guffawing. The rector seemed a little unsettled.
‘Yes. Are you a headmaster?’ he enquired.
‘No. I did do O-level Latin at school though’ I informed him.
‘Awwww…teacher’s pet’ whispered the Cabin Boy to me. The childish antics of my team were a little embarrassing and so I didn’t answer the other questions that the rector posed.      

The tour lasted about 20 minutes and was well worth joining. One of the interesting curiosities was that some of the statues inside and outside the priory were associated with the nursery rhyme ‘Hey Diddle Diddle.’ There are two laughing dogs on each side of the tower and a sculpture inside shows a half moon, in reference to Prior Moone, who was allegedly ‘diddled’ into a bad cow deal by a local family called Hey. 

Cavendish Pavilion Cafe

There was a cloudburst as we approached the impressive Cavendish Memorial Fountain. Fortunately there were some trees nearby where we could escape the worst of the downpour. The rain stopped as abruptly as it started and we made our way across sodden grass back towards the river. We walked through the large carpark area. This place would be heaving on a weekend, but there were only a few cars there midweek. 

We decided to call in at the Cavendish Pavilion Cafe. As we walked towards one of the free patio tables outside the cafe I managed to kick a metal dog's water bowl that had been placed as a trap on the pathway. My hiking boot gave it such a hoof that it clattered and clanged about 15 yards along the front of the cafe. I looked around at all the people sitting at the patio tables and they were all glaring at me, their faces frozen as though snapped in a photograph.
I felt I had to say something, ‘Well, that was noisy wasn’t it?’
We sat down at a free table and I set the Kapitan off on a mission to get me a carrot cake and a coffee. Refuelled, we continued our journey along the River Wharfe. 

The Strid

The Strid was quite an impressive natural formation where the River Wharfe narrowed into a slabbed area. Given the volume of water we’d seen in the river, I was actually slightly disappointed that there wasn’t more water gushing between the rocks. The river was deep here though, with hidden caverns underneath the slabs, and so maybe that’s why we couldn’t see a torrent. It was certainly a part of the river that you wouldn’t want to fall into. The rocks were slimy and so some care was needed. Photos taken, we headed back to the path. 

Return

We’d seen abundant wildlife along the river. There were plenty of Dippers, Oyster Catchers, Wild Fowl and a solitary Heron. Near to Barden Aqueduct, we found a Mallard and her brood making chaotic progress across water and rocks. She certainly had her work cut out keeping an eye on all those chicks. The day became grey again as we approached Barden Bridge. I thought we might get soaked just before we reached the car, but the rain held off.        

Despite the frequent showers, the day had been an excellent low-level outing. The route held historical interest in terms of the bridges and Bolton Abbey. There were natural wonders too including Posforth Gill Force and The Strid. There was plenty of birdlife to keep the animal lovers happy. A walk with everything.