Westmorland Way

WW08: Askham to Pooley Bridge

Tuesday 15th June 2010

"What's the best way to Askham?" asked Margaret, innocently.

"Nicely, of course," I facetiously replied.

Sorry about that. I had tried so hard to resist the obvious pun but, when she posed the question, I couldn't help myself!

So, nicely was the way we went. We left the car by the empty swimming pool with its honesty parking fee of £1 for the whole day- SLDC please note!

Askham was looking every bit as good as when we left it on Saturday. Actually Margaret thinks it looks too neat, as if residents have to be vetted in order to live there; a thought somehow emphasised by the sight of a pony and trap emerging from one of the properties and parading around.

Our Wway lay along the bridle path that runs down by Askham Hall, past the piggery field which had nary a blade of grass left.

Askham Hall

Askham pig

As we entered Tirril, we passed through a farm with extensive, smart outbuilding development. The lady there, like so many we have met on this tour, was very friendly but was totally unaware that the Westmorland Way ran by her door. Or at least our Wway does.

Tirril team picture

Tirril Queen's Head

Tirril proved a surprise. I have never been further east than the Queen's Head (scene of our celebrations on completion of BB0617 in which we had walked the High Street Roman Road from the Queen's Head in Troutbeck) but that end of the village is full of charming old properties. We headed west, into the newer part, then across fields to the old hamlet of Sockbridge and farmstead at Thorpe.

Tirril washing

Sockbridge

After a minor road slog, passing by a very old Kirkbarrow with English and Italian football flags flying, we turned down the lane to Barton with its ancient St Michael's Church.

In its middle, it has a strange small tower, presumably the oldest part and dating from the 12th century. Inside, this simply provides a low, empty space that divides the two ends of the church.

It also has an unusual curved graveyard with several Wordsworths buried there.

St Michael's Church

Kirkbarrow

Inside St Michael's Church

Round the back was Barton Church Farm with its strange juxtaposition of ancient and modern.

Ancient and .....

..... modern

Heading down towards Pooley Mill, we stopped for a coffee break. In the far end of the field we could see several cows. Only they weren't. There were twenty frisky bullocks and, once we restarted, they were intent on preventing us passing through.

You shall not pass!

With some shock and awe tactics, including threatening them with a big club of a branch and lots of jumping and shouting, we managed to get the other side of them but there was still a hundred yards to cover and they were closing in on us. Of course, the perceived wisdom is that you don't have to be able to run faster than the bull, just faster than your companion. But, when the companion is your spouse, that is not good for marital relations. So Magaret didn't run and leave me. Actually, running is the worst thing you can do. The best tactic is for the most dispensible member of your party to walk slowly backwards, making the old forward charge to keep the bullocks at bay, whilst the others make steady progress beyond to the escape point. However, you can easily understand how people get intimidated, run for it and potentially get trampled in the ensuing stampede. Scary.

As we neared Pooley Bridge, the scenery became progressively more typical of the Lake District. However on reaching the village we must be the only visitors today who didn't visit the lake. No need- we will get plenty of Ullswater on the next leg. Instead Margaret went into a nick-nack shop and I bought an ice cream. Both of our urges satisfied, we took the road back towards Barton and headed east across fields at the old and superbly converted school.

Barton hens

Leaving Pooley Bridge

Barton School

Nearing the top of the hill, we stopped for another coffee break and to enjoy the Ullswater panorama before continuing over to Winder Hall Farm (another fine old property) and more danger.

A distant Ullswater

Team picture in the gloaming!

Lowther Castle comes into view

The first shock was when I opened a field gate to emerge onto a lane. All of a sudden, Margaret lunged through by me shouting "Quick, get the gate shut".

I had heard a thundering sound but she had seen what was causing it. Round the side of a barn came a group of heifers at full pelt towards us. I got the gate shut and they stood there spitting and snorting their bad breath at me.

The next field had only sheep with which to contend but then we had to pass through one with two rather large horses who immediately came over to investigate. I don't know much about horses except that they can bite and kick so we were rather wary but, to be fair, they showed no inclination to do either.

The greatest danger, however, was in the lane down to Askham. Not bullocks. Not heifers nor horses. Not cars, tractors nor lorries. A silent assassin. A cyclist storming down the hill at high speed, seemingly without what the Highway Code demands (or did in my day, I must admit not having read it for quite a few years)- an audible means of warning.

After this near miss, when Margaret asked me to get down in the road to take low level photos of some fine banks of poppies and daisies, you will understand why it was effected with considerable trepidation.

Poppies and .....

..... daisies

I am pleased to report, however, that there were no more dices with death and we safely returned to Askham, which also has a Queen's Head. There is obviously a strong royal connection around here- even the signposts are adorned with a crown.

Royal directions to.....

..... the Queen's head, Askham

All in all, this was yet another splendid section of the Wway but I have to observe that it would be much safer undertaken in the winter months when the bullocks, heifers, horses and cyclists are all kept indoors!

Don, 15th June 2010