Miltonrigg Woods, Cumbria, Autumn
Ever since we returned from South Wales, it basically hasn’t stopped raining in North England.
Ever since we returned from South Wales, it basically hasn’t stopped raining in North England.
This has severely limited opportunities to get and about in the local area for some quality hikes and enjoy the season’s autumn colours.
Thankfully, Sunday just gone, conditions were largely dry during a visit to my Dad’s. So, after a wee bit of Googling, we hopped into the car and drove east of Brampton for a lovely hike around Miltonrigg Woods.
Beautiful colours, gorgeous woodland. A good way to see off the last of this year’s autumn colours.
Photos taken on my Fujifilm X-T2 using my Dad’s XF18–55mm f2.8–4 zoom and my own Laowa 9mm f2.8 lens. RAWs converted in Capture One for iPad, developed in RNI Films, and finalised in Affinity Photo for iPad.
Miltonrigg Woods, Cumbria, Autumn by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Right next to the start of the walk, a beautiful scene illuminated itself before my eyes. Already the autumn colours were looking glorious and the light was just right.
A tigher composition of the illuminated ferns amongst the rusty hues of fallen leaves.
Looking back at the start of the hike. There’s nothing quite like a woodland in autumn.
Three gnarly trees entwine and reach to the skies, sheltering the fiery leaves beneath.
As the sun came out from behind the clouds, I spotted an opportunity for an ultra-wide composition featuring some of the woodland’s gorgeous ferns.
I enjoy the challenge of finding compositions and telling a simple story in an otherwise complicated landscape, such as in the woods.
The afternoon sun pierces through the seemingly endless layers of trees.
Two silver birches with a “skirt” of autumn foliage.
The light was such that you had to stay alert and keep your eyes open, as random parts of the woodland around you would suddenly illuminate and reveal a gorgeous scene to photo.
Another twisting ancient tree in a sea of ferns provides contrast against a backdrop of illuminated silver birch.
Heading back to the car park and a tunnel of light reveals a row of trees amongst a carpet of rusty leaves.
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Stenkrith Park, Cumbria, Autumn
The River Eden has carved out some wonderful geology.
The River Eden has carved out some wonderful geology.
If you’re a frequent visitor of my website (hello!) you’ll have read me writing about the River Eden’s geology specifically around Mallerstang and Wetheral.
The River Eden begins life high up in the Mallerstang valley—now part of the Yorkshire Dales National Park—where it has carved an impressive gorge known as Hell Gill, before dropping 25 ft as a waterfall called Hellgill Force. The river turns north, carving its way out of Mallerstang into the wider Vale of Eden.
Just before the river reaches the small Cumbrian town of Kirkby Stephen, it drops through a partially collapsed cave system in Stenkrith Park called “The Devil’s Grinding Mill” (also known as “The Devil’s Mustard Mill” and “Coop Kernan Hole”). The scenery here is absolutely fascinating.
We took the opportunity for a more gentle walk, starting at Stenkrith Park and following the Northern Viaduct trail to take in the sights of both Pod Gill Viaduct and Merrygill Viaduct. We then circled back into Kirkby Stephen before rejoining the River Eden for some more river photography of the incredible limestone formations.
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a Fujinon 18-55mm f/2.8-4.0 lens using a customised Classic Chrome film profile.
This is “The Devil’s Grinding Mill”, where the River Eden drops into a collapsed cave system. The Millennium Bridge crosses above the gorge for fantastic views.
From the bridge we followed the North Viaduct trail east. The trail follows the old South Durham & Lancashire Union Railway, which was setup in the 1850s to transport coke (the fuel kind) to Barrow-in-Furness’ iron furnaces. The railway was dismantled in the 1970s.
We saw plenty of people walking the Northern Viaduct trail, especially with their dogs.
If you’re in Cumbria, there will be sheep. I managed to surprise this Swaledale.
Just south of Coop Kernan Hole the River Eden begins widening out again through a series of beautifully sculpted limestone formations.
There was some lovely light filtering through.
Autumn’s quickly on its way.
The red colouration in the water is due to the river carrying peat from the fells above Mallerstang.
My lovely Lisabet found a sizeable hole in the one of the rocks, and I couldn’t resist a photo!
Lisabet hopping rocks to get a closer shot of some of the falls.
This is the bottom of Coop Kernan’s Hole, only really accessible when there’s no much water in the river.
A little bit of sun managed to break through the canopy, picking out some of the features of this fascinating gorge and its structures.
Loughrigg, Lake District, Autumn
There are several Wainwrights that are considered key or “core” Wainwrights.
There are several Wainwrights—that is, Lake District peaks written about in Alfred Wainwright's seven-volume Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells—that are considered key or “core” Wainwrights.
They include the likes of Catbells, Helvellyn, Scafell Pike, and the Old Man of Coniston.
You could also argue that Loughrigg Fell should be included as a core Wainwright, too. And in all my years of living in Cumbria I’ve never once been up this relatively small yet sprawling fell.
So, at 5:00am this morning, we changed that.
Loughrigg Fell, or just Loughrigg, is one of the smaller Lake District fells, measuring only 335 m or 1,099 ft (compare this to England’s highest peak, Scafell Pike, coming in at 978 m/3,209 ft). However, its mass covers a surprisingly large area near Central Lakeland. To its north are two lakes: Grasmere and Rydal Water. To its west the fell overlooks Loughrigg Tarn followed by Elter Water. East, the River Rothay runs through a shallow depression, and south of Loughrigg is England’s largest lake: Windermere.
Because the fell covers such a large area there are many ways to access its numerous crags and the summit. We arrived at a lay-by near the shore of Grasmere and set off for the fell at around 6:45am. We took the route through Penny Wood onto Grasmere “beach” and then up into Deerbolts Wood, before joining Red Bank and taking the steep pitched path up onto Loughrigg’s various nobbly crags.
The morning was clear and glorious, and we watched as the rising sun slowly lit up the various peaks you can make out from around the shoulders of Loughrigg, such as Wetherlam and the Langdale Pikes. By the time we hit the summit the sun had risen and was covering the rolling crags of Loughrigg in golden light.
What a cracking morning.
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a XF 18–55mm f/2.8–4.0 lens using a customised Classic Chrome film profile.
Looking back down the steep pitched path that was our route up to the summit of Loughrigg. Silver How (395 m/1,296 ft) starts catching the soft pre-sunrise light.
Loughrigg features lots of lovely crags from which you can take your pick of compositions towards the distant fells. Here I pointed the camera towards the Langdale Pikes as they started to glow.
I find another or Loughrigg’s crags, surrounded by autumnal fern, which I use to point towards Wetherlam as it glows pink.
Higher up we can better make out the Langdale Pikes and Crinkle Crags (859 m/2,818 ft) as more of the land is bathed in warm sunrise light.
Another crag offers a framing and leading device for a composition towards Dunmail Raise, north of Grasmere village.
My lovely Lisabet takes a pew on some crag and enjoys the views as more of the fells light up in the sunrise glow.
A beautiful Herdwick yow (ewe) stares at us curiously with its smiling face. Behind her are the glowing slopes of Lingmoor Fell (469 m/1,539 ft).
The Rydal Fells, which ultimately lead up to Fairfield (873 m/2,864 ft).
Looking up the undulating folds towards the summit of Loughrigg, marked by a trigpoint.
I wanted to capture the criss-crossing and layering of the land as the sun rose over the fells.
Looking back at the route up to the summit of Loughrigg. In the distance is Grasmere village and the fells north of it: Helm Crag, Steel Fell, and Seat Sandal.
From the summit of Loughrigg you can finally make out some of Windermere lake.
From the summit you can enjoy a clear view of Wetherlam (763 m/2,502 ft), which I shot from the summit’s crags.
Probably my favourite photo from the whole hike.
Another ewe enjoys the views from one of Loughrigg’s crags.
The rolling craggy landscape of Loughrigg as the walking trails meander towards Windermere.
Lisabet inches closer for a better snap of the ewe and her lamb.
Incredible views from Loughrigg towards Elter Water and Wetherlam above.
Up in the Lakeland Fells autumn has arrived as the fern on the fell slopes turn a beautiful rusty colour.
A lone Herdwick ewe munches on the bracken in a steep gully below the rolling crags of Loughrigg.
Near Loughrigg’s northeastern slopes you can find increasing evidence of quarrying. Here we found a deposit of slate, forming a little mound of its own.
Tracking the outcrops of rhyolite and basaltic andesite towards the Scandale fells.
Lisabet pauses to enjoy the views as we navigate our way down the slopes of Loughrigg.
Back onto the main path that circumnavigates Loughrigg, known as the Loughrigg Terraces, we find Rydal Cave. This is a man-made cave; created as consequence of quarrying slate for roofing material.
A pool has filled Rydal Cave, offering crisp reflections that I played around with.
We spotted teeny little fishes in the pool too! Couldn’t say what they were, though.
Back on the main path around Loughrigg and looking up at Ewe Crag.
Into the woods alongside the River Rothay we chanced upon a couple of Herons. One of them flew off almost immediately but this one, hunched up, stayed on its perch long enough for me to get this quick snap.
In Penny Wood we notice that Grasmere is offering some crisp reflections of Silver How, which clamber down to get shots of.
All in all a 10/10 morning.
Appleby-in-Westmorland, Cumbria, Autumn
In all my time of living in Cumbria I’ve never properly checked out Appleby-in-Westmorland.
In all my time of living in Cumbria I’ve never properly checked out Appleby-in-Westmorland.
Today we rectified that.
Appleby-in-Westmorland is a small town located in the northeast of the historic county of Westmorland. Whilst Kendal was the major trade town of historic Westmorland, Appleby was the county town and administrative centre where the Assize Courts met.
As a result, Appleby has a different atmosphere compared to Kendal; the latter feels more modernised whereas the former is much quieter and has maintained a lot of its historic charm.
We took the route to Appleby via Tebay, stopping off at the Lune Gorge M6 Viewpoint as well as the Lune Gorge itself, before arriving at Appleby for lunch and a solid potter around. We also checked out the grounds of Appleby Castle, which was founded in the early 12th century.
On the way back home we diverted off the main road to get another Bucket List item ticked off: Rutter Falls.
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a Fujinon XF 18–55mm f/2.8–4.0 lens using a customised Classic Chrome film profile.
The M6 was the first motorway constructed in the UK, and a serious feat of engineering was required to route the M6 through the Lune Gorge here.
Just before reaching Tebay you can stop off and scramble around the Lune Gorge. Here the River Lune turns south and drastically narrows, cutting out this fine gorge before broadening out again near Kirkby Lonsdale.
There’s a layby off the A685 that allows one to enjoy the views of the Lune Gorge and the surrounding fells with the M6 running through it.
We scrambled down the sides of the gorge to get close to the roaring water for better photos. My lovely Lisabet, here, providing a sense of scale and colour contrast.
As close to the rapids of the Lune as I dare.
A sign of the times: masks everywhere at Appleby-in-Westmorland town centre.
A simple composition of the pillar in Appleby town centre called Low Cross, itself a copy of High Cross just up the road near the castle.
Cumbria is quickly transitioning into autumn and the trees are starting to look real nice.
This is High Cross near the gates of Appleby Castle, framed by some lovely autumn trees.
Inside the grounds of Appleby Castle the views open up and we can peep over the trees towards the North Pennines.
Much like in Wetheral, a lot of the geology around the River Eden—which runs through Appleby—consists of deep red sandstone carved into fantastical shapes.
Up into the grounds of Appleby Castle, lots of reconstruction and landscaping going on.
The way to the castle from the Moat Walk.
Inside the well-kept courtyard of Appleby Castle you get a clear view of Caesar’s Tower, a largely intact Norman-era keep built around 1170AD.
The keep is currently in the process of being made structurally sound again by Historic England after years of neglect.
Appleby Castle was founded by Ranulf le Meschin in the 12th century. Perhaps its most notable resident was Lady Anne Clifford, who took up residence in the mid-17th century. She made a number of improvements and expansions to Appleby Castle as well as other properties that her family owned, such as Skipton Castle, Pendragon Castle, and Brough Castle.
Slap-bang in the middle of Appleby town centre, an area known as Boroughgate, is the Moot Hall, which dates from the late 1500s. The Moot Hall was made to conduct the business of the Borough of Appleby, established by royal charter in 1179. It is one of only a few early town halls that still serves its original purpose of conducting the business of the borough.
Everywhere you look in Appleby you are surrounded by historic buildings retaining a lot of their original forms and features. In fact the town contains 143 buildings that are recorded in the National Heritage List for England: 6 are listed at Grade I, the highest of the three grades, 10 at Grade II*, and the others are at Grade II.
A decorative date stone attached to the Moot Hall, giving the year when Appleby-in-Westmorland was granted its Market Charter: 1179AD.
On our way back from Appleby we took a small diversion to check a beauty spot we’ve been wanting to see for a long time: Rutter Falls. The waterfall is situated on Hoff Beck in an impossibly idyllic location alongside a picturesque old mill that was once used to grind corn. In fact the nearby village of Great Asby was still powered by electricity generated from this waterfall until 1952, when the National Grid finally arrived.
Saltaire, West Yorkshire, Autumn
Building a business was very different in the Victorian era.
Building a business was very different in the Victorian era.
In 1850 a Titus Salt sought to build a textile mill big enough to consolidate all the textile manufacturing processes in one place. His competitors were running a variety of mills in Bradford and Salt did not approve of the appalling working conditions, unsafe practices, and level of pollution in the city.
So Titus Salt bought a plot of land in Shipley, three miles away from Bradford, and started building what became known as Salt’s Mill. The project was completed in 1853 and was opened on Salt’s 50th birthday, 20th September 1853.
The mill was the largest industrial building in the world by total floor area.
Titus Salt also built tidy stone houses for his workers—a vast improvement over the the slums of Bradford—wash houses with tap water, bath houses, a hospital, and an institute for recreation and education. This included a library, a reading room, a concert hall, billiard room, science laboratory, and a gym.
He provided a school for the children of the workers, almshouses for those in need, allotments, a park, and a boathouse. Titus Salt encouraged recreational activities, so a drum and fife band for school age boys and a brass band was set up.
Combining quality housing, fulfilling employment, recreation, educational facilities and social services, the village of Saltaire became a landmark example of enlightened 19th century urban planning.
Perhaps to some, providing people both their employment and their homes might seem too prescriptive or overbearing. But to me it feels more like a panoramic and holistic approach to business, work, employment, and personal development that modern capitalists and entrepreneurs have lost sight of.
All photos taken on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a Fujinon XF 18–55mm f/2.8–4.0 lens using a customised Classic Chrome film profile.
Salts Mill chimney, measuring 68 m (223 ft) high. An imposing sight from all directions.
Saltaire Club & Institute, now known as Victoria Hall. The building was opened in 1872 and cost Titus Salt £18,336 (roughly £2.3 million in today’s money). The Institute “was free from any political bias” and functioned as a social club and educational institute. Nowadays the building serves as a rather posh Village Hall with rooms available for hire. You can get married here too.
In front of the Hall are two sculpted lions representing War and Peace. They face two other sculpted lions that flank the school opposite the Hall, representing Determination and Vigilance. This lion is Peace.
The stone houses built for the workers of Salts Mill were a massive improvement on the living conditions experienced by mill workers in nearby Bradford.
This lion, flanking the old Salt School, represents Determination. Salt School is now part of Shipley College.
A view down, I think, Caroline Street and its rows of neatly built stone terraced houses.
The houses are still magnificently preserved and looked after by their current residents.
The view south on Albert Terrace, with Salts Mill chimney looming in the distance. I would imagine living here in the mid-1800s that seeing the chimney was a constant reminder of your place and purpose.
This was the Congregational Church, built between 1856–59 for around £16,000 (about £2 million in today’s money). Sir Titus Salt was a deeply religious man, believing that his talents and wealth were god-given, and thus felt a religious obligation to provide for the greater good. These days the Congregational Church is now the United Reformed Church.
Across the Leeds and Liverpool Canal is New Mill, built in 1868. The western end of the New Mill has been converted into offices for the Bradford Health Authority, whilst the canal side has been partitioned into 98 privately owned apartments.
Inside Salts Mill! It closed as working mill in 1986 after 133 years in operation. The following year it was sold to Jonathan Silver, a local entrepreneur, who began the process of transforming the mill into retail and commercial units and an art gallery.
Salts Mill is now a thriving commercial and creative centre, housing the 1853 Gallery, the work of artist David Hockney, the Salts Diner restaurant, a book shop, a café, an arts materials shop, several exhibitions, and many more shops.
There were lots of pretty things for me to gawp at.
The current exhibition by David Hockney: “The Arrival of Spring”. It comprises of a huge oil painting as well as 51 other drawings he made on his iPad. Featuring bold colours and simple shapes that are characteristic of Hockney’s style.
I also just really loved the space of this exhibition and the quality of light.
The views from almost any window in the mill are lovely. Here, looking west out of the exhibition with Victoria Hall plainly evident.
Exiting Salts Mill down the main yard. Back in the mid 1800s, hundreds of mill workers would’ve come streaming down this yard at the end of their shift.
Looking back down the yard from the railway bridge. I was attempting my own modern-day version of an old photo I saw displayed inside the mill, which depicted hundreds of workers finishing their shift and walking down this yard; a veritable sea of people. The quote attached to that photo was something like, “If you were last leaving the building, you may as well turn back and spend the night in the mill.”
Sir Titus Salt wasn’t dumb, and meticulously planned out his factory for the greatest access to travel routes, from roads and canals to the railway.
Mallerstang, Yorkshire Dales, Autumn
One of my favourite things to do is to show my Dad new places to hike and photograph.
One of my favourite things to do is to show my Dad new places to hike and photograph.
So on Sunday my Dad came down to visit and we headed out to Mallerstang—perhaps my favourite Yorkshire Dales valley—for a hike full of vistas, beautiful light, and pretty waterfalls.
I think, judging from his exclamations, he rather enjoyed it.
All shots taken on a Fujifilm X-T2 with a Fujinon XF 18–55mm f/2.8–4.0 lens using a customised Classic Chrome film profile.
Hell Gill Force, finally with a good bit of water flowing.
The beautiful profile of Wild Boar Fell (708 m/2,323 ft) with some clear late-afternoon light streaking across it.
We took a route through Mallerstang that I’d personally never done before, from Hell Gill Force and up onto Slade Edge, which is a small limestone plateau that rises above the middle of the valley.
Slade Edge offers wonderful vistas, both towards Wild Boar Fell on the western side and Mallerstang Edge on the east. Here, my eye spies a meandering drystone wall and I can’t resist the photo.
We got some delightful light shows on this hike. The expansive views of Mallerstang, with Angerholme Wold on the left and Mallerstang Edge on the right. In the distance, the North Pennines.
Across the valley to the gashes and crags of Wild Boar Fell, with High White Scar on the left and The Nab on the right, both towering above Aisgill Farm.
A solitary barn near Hanging Lund, below the slopes of Mallerstang Edge. Sunlight escaping from between the clouds scans across the fellside.
Back near Cotegill Bridge, I took this shot of the Settle-Carlisle railway line with Wild Boar Fell above. I then realised that I were surrounded by parked cars and plenty of people, setting tripods and cameras and step ladders. Why? Probably trainspotters, waiting for a steam train coming down the line.
A nice little waterfall near Cotegill Bridge, with some rather vivid yellow spongey moss everywhere.
Last light of the day, and probably my best shot.