Malhamdale, Yorkshire Dales, Winter
Merry Christmas everyone!
Merry Christmas everyone!
After a morning of tasty foods and gift exchanging/opening, Lisabet and I decided on a wintery hike around Malhamdale in the Yorkshire Dales.
The Yorkshire Dales has much to offer but a particular jewel in the Park is Malhamdale. The area features the beautiful village of Malham, the epic and ancient extinct waterfall of Malham Cove, the cavernous cathedral of Gordale Scar, and the peaceful waters of Janet’s Foss.
Thinking a Christmas Day hike wouldn’t be too busy, we were surprised by the number of people parked up at the village, ready for their own wanderings around this part of the world.
The day barely topped 4ºC and strong gusty winds often brought temperatures below freezing point. Nevertheless, the scenery was epic, and it certainly whetted our appetite for Christmas dinner later.
All photos taken on my Fujifilm X-T2 using two of my prime lenses: a Fujinon 23mm f/2.0, and a Laowa 9mm f/2.8. Images edited using RNI Films’ Kodachrome profiles, finalised in Affinity Photo.
The Buck Inn, closed for Christmas. It was built in 1874 on the site of an older coaching inn.
It’s not long before we find the path off the road and Malham Cove makes itself very clearly known.
We’re fast approaching Malham Cove and the scale of this sheer limestone wall quickly makes itself apparent.
We hopped around the beck that flows out of the bottom of Malham Cove, seeking compositions.
Ever been underneath an extinct waterfall? Tens of thousands of years ago, a giant waterfall would’ve crashed down here.
After gawping at the sheer verticality of Malham Cove we skirted around its western flank and started the long ascent up the steps towards the top of the Cove.
Around the flanks of Malham Cove, Belted Galloway cows happily grazed on what they could find.
As we near the top of the steps, the views across the Cove to the fells beyond soon open up.
Finally, we make it above Malham Cove. Whilst the main cliff face of the Cove is impressive all by itself, the limestone pavement above—with its clints and grikes—is a different world entirely.
Limestone pavements occur when a glacier retreats and scours limestone, leaving behind a flat bed of rock. Limestone is slightly soluble in water, and rain is slightly acidic, so over time cracks form in the joints of the limestone. Give it a few thousand years or so, and this is the sort of landscape you’re left with.
Up on Malham Cove, the views are extensive, and we can see all the way across Malhamdale, beyond the Aire Gap towards the smooth hills of the Forest of Bowland in Lancashire. Even with the landscape being as epic as it is, the light was also wonderful.
We gingerly hopped our across the clints and grikes of Malham Cove towards its eastern flank, seeking a way towards the footpath that leads to Gordale Scar.
At various points, sudden gaps along the cliff edge opened up, offering views down to Malhamdale. These would’ve been smaller waterfalls that tumbled down Malham Cove, aside from the main one.
At the eastern shoulder of Malham Cove’s curve we could look all the way back to the main cliff face, and see the tiny little people near its edge.
My lovely Lisabet being unusually daring near the edge of Malham Cove’s eastern shoulder. That’s quite a drop, honey…
This shot really shows the sheer drop down from Malham Cove’s sheer southern face. Be careful there, people.
Getting as close to the eastern edge as I dare, really shows the precipitous drop down to the valley floor.
Plenty of people also enjoying the immense views that can be enjoyed from all aspects of Malham Cove.
We found the footpath the leads to Gordale Scar and followed the thankfully easier trail to our next destination. The light was still gorgeous.
The way into Gordale Scar. At this point of the hike, we were joined by a young South Indian student, who wasn’t entirely sure of the way around the trail back to Malham. He was studying at the University of Central Lancashire in Preston. Nice fellow.
A myriad of colours, even in winter.
And there she is, the frankly awe-inspiring sight of Gordale Scar.
The towering crags of limestone, catching the afternoon winter sun above the waterfalls.
Depending on how much water there is in Gordale Beck decides the number of waterfalls that tumble out of the scar.
Mud-slicked limestone made clambering around the boulders in the gorge treacherous, so this was as close as I could get to the waterfalls.
Much of Gordale Scar’s walls actually lean over, dripping water into the gorge.
Such an epic place. I never tire of it.
Our final stop of the day was just down the road from Gordale Scar, a small but beautiful waterfall known as Janet’s Foss. But first, we had to say hi to some Belted Galloways.
The beautiful Janet’s Foss, with its aquamarine plunge pool.
What a wonderful Christmas Day.
Retro Reworking: Watlowes Dry Valley, Yorkshire Dales, Winter 2017
I’ve only been to the Watlowes Dry Valley once, back in February 2017, but it was an experience I’ll never forget. I need to get back here again.
The Watlowes Dry Valley, once the site of a huge waterfall.
I’ve only been to the Watlowes Dry Valley once, back in February 2017, but it was an experience I’ll never forget. I need to get back here again.
You can find this place in Malhamdale, one of the more popular areas of the Yorkshire Dales National Park. Most people head to Malhamdale to experience the Big 3 of the area: Malham Cove (a curved sheer cliff), Gordale Scar (a deep ravine), and Janet’s Foss (a pretty waterfall). But above and beyond both Goredale Scar and Malham Cove lies the Watlowes Dry Valley, once the site of one of Britain’s largest waterfalls.
This valley was carved out from the glacial overspill of Malham Tarn, tens of thousands of years ago. Over time the ice melted and a raging waterfall formed and shaped the incredible landscape you now see. At some point in the distant past, the outflow from Malham Tarn that ran into Watlowes found a more efficient route, and now drops down into the maze-like limestone caves underneath Watlowes. As a result, Watlowes dried up and what you see now is the result. The area where Malham Beck now drops into the caves underneath the Yorkshire Dales is called—appropriately—Water Sinks, as the beck appears to magically disappear into the ground just a few hundred metres from Malham Tarn.
A took a solo hike around this area back in February 2017. I had earmarked the Watlowes Dry Valley for a hike because I was insanely attracted to the idea of exploring an extinct waterfall. The place did not disappoint.
A vertical composition of the Watlowes Dry Valley, clearly showing the route the old river used to take before it would fall over Malham Cove as Britain’s largest waterfall.
Another vertical composition highlighting some of the limestone glacial erratics you can find on the slopes of the Watlowes Dry Valley.
A rather lovely chunk of crag I framed into this composition whilst I also got some nice side lighting.