A threshold

Milner Field walk, part 1

So, the 1st of September arrived... the threshold of a new season, as we tip over into meteorological autumn. It has looked like the approach of autumn for a week or two, as the dry weather seems to have speeded up the fruiting of hedgerows and yellowing of the foliage. September 1st was, however, a lovely day and still had a summery feel with a pleasantly warm temperature, despite a stiff breeze blowing. 

I decided on a brisk walk up to Milner Field, a route I haven't taken for a while. I bumped into two of my neighbours on the way - a couple of brief but friendly chats to start me off on the right foot (as they say!) 

I crossed the canal (above) at Hirst Wood swing bridge and was attracted by the two bursts of red: the boat and the lady's jacket (with matching walking sticks, how stylish).

Next, I crossed the river and walked round to the weir that once powered the adjacent mill. The river is still quite low, though we'd had a bit of rain in the past few days. The weir now has opportunistic shrubs growing in the middle! I don't suppose they'll hold on once the winter flow builds up. 

Then up the hill to follow the carriage drive that goes through the woods to Milner Field. In parts it is now barely wide enough to allow the horse-drawn carriages that once conveyed gentry (including, in 1882, the then Prince of Wales, the future King Edward VII) up to Titus Salt Junior's mansion. Not that that bothers today's users, mostly dog-walkers. I passed one chap walking nine big dogs. Thankfully, apart from one (presumably his own pet), they were all on leads. It seemed a lot for one man to handle but apparently there is no legal limit to the number that can be walked. 

There are huge trees toppled over here too, as everywhere. 

The imposing Milner Field mansion was once somewhere in the woods to the right of my photo below. You can still find traces of it if you root around, though it was left empty from the late 1920s. No-one would then buy it, as it had a macabre reputation due to the series of tragedies and early deaths that beset all its previous owners. It was mostly demolished in the 1950s. Read about its history HERE. 

Soothing

An overcast and slightly cooler morning in the midst of our heatwave encouraged me out for a longer walk. What a delight it was to immerse myself in the soothing greens alongside the river and canal. 

The water level in the river is very, very low - a mere trickle over the weir and, higher upstream, you could barely discern any movement or current.  I think we'll be getting a hose-pipe ban soon, to conserve water, despite the wet winter we had. 

Frigid

Over the New Year it was very cold here though also quite bright, with a few bursts of weak sunshine that lit things up quite nicely. The whole of the UK is in the grip of Arctic air, though we've not yet had any snow in Yorkshire. 

I managed to hurt my back on NY Day (doing exercises that are supposed to help strengthen my back!) so I was pretty stiff and sore. By the next day it was still sore but I was a bit more mobile, so I went for a three mile walk. My back is always a bit stiff, just some days hurts more than others, and I find regular walking seems to help on the whole. 

I was well wrapped up but the wind was icy. I haven't ever really found a satisfactory way of stopping my mouth and nose getting cold, so that when I get back in the warm, my teeth hurt! I've tried scarves and a stretchy buff, but then it's hard to breathe and they get all wet, urgh. Despite the discomfort I enjoyed the walk. 

(I'm a bit short of 'blog fodder' and not getting out anywhere very exciting at the moment, so don't worry if I'm missing for a few days here and there.)

By the river

The Upper Coach Road (see yesterday) has a track off it, which leads down to the river and is the access drive to the Bradford Amateur Rowing Club (BARC). I always speculate on the reason for the graceful curve in the track. Was it to avoid the trees? (Were they even there when the track was first made?) Is it designed to follow the boundary of the Milner Field Estate? The Rowing Club was founded in 1867 by Titus Salt Junior, and the land the club-house occupies belonged to him. Whatever the reason, I think it's far more attractive than a straight drive would have been. 

At the bottom you arrive at Hirst Weir, which has gradually broken down from the steep edge it once had when it was associated with the mill on the far bank. Indeed, fairly recently there were diggers there, distributing the rocks even further, partly I think to mitigate flooding on the drive and partly to improve access for fish swimming upstream to spawn. At the moment the water level is as low as I've ever seen it. You could probably safely walk across the river here right now (though I wouldn't recommend it!) 

Looking upstream, the trees are definitely beginning to show a yellowish, autumnal tone. 

The BARC club-house was in the process of getting a new roof, winter-proofing it I guess. (This was a week or so ago and it's probably finished by now.) The building is Victorian, constructed in 1893. The top floor is a bar and function room, leading onto a wide balcony. On the ground floor, there are changing rooms and a gym. The club's extensive fleet of boats and equipment are housed in an adjacent boathouse.  The club uses the 600 metre stretch of the river from the weir up to the aqueduct.

Cool green on hot days

Hours of wonderful tennis to enjoy from Wimbledon, some rather warm weather and some very windy days too, have conspired to keep me indoors (rather guiltily!) When I have been out, it's been refreshing to walk by water and among trees. The fresh greens of spring are giving way to that darker, rather dull and dusty, uniform green that summer adopts but, even so, the effect of all that green is cooling and soothing.  

Various scientific studies have confirmed the cooling effect of trees but you don't need a research study to notice the difference between a hot urban pavement and a shady woodland walk. We need more trees everywhere, for all sorts of reasons. 

I'm grateful for plenty of local options - woodland, parks, riverside and canalside... even if the walk home, uphill on hard pavements, often feels like a slog. Once home, I can cool off with an iced drink. I can hardly keep up with the necessary production of ice cubes (though I refuse the option of actually buying a bag of them from the supermarket!). 

Given the dry weather since early spring, Yorkshire Water has just announced a hosepipe ban. That in itself isn't an issue for me as I have no need of hosepipe for anything, but it will perhaps mean that the local hand car wash has to close, so I'll be driving around with a dusty car.  (A bucket wash, from a first floor flat, isn't really feasible.)  

The heron had the right idea, standing with his feet in cool water. I wonder if the low water level in the river impacts their feeding?  Maybe it makes it easier to find the fish? 

Snow melt

With temperatures jumping from below freezing to just under 10ºC (50ºF) virtually overnight, the snow melt came quickly. Hooray... at least in many ways. I made it to the supermarket on Monday to replenish my food stocks, though at that stage there was still plenty of snow and ice lying about. Even the supermarket car park was a bit tricky to negotiate in parts. By Tuesday morning, however, all the snow had virtually disappeared, a welcome, if rather surprising, sight when I opened my curtains. 

Rapid snow melt does, however, lead to rapid rises in river levels. The Aire was churning over Hirst Weir and just beginning to flood the riverside footpath. A couple walking ahead of me turned back, saying the path was underwater further along, at the bridge where a small stream joins. So I only ventured as far as the Rowing Club HQ. I think it will get worse before it gets better, though I don't think much rain is forecast. Snow melting off the fell sides in the Dales will no doubt make its way down to us in the next few days. 

 

Notes from an autumn walk

The weather has been changeable and unpredictable - dull, damp and dismal one day followed by bright, warm sunshine the next. It's playing havoc with my inner thermostat and I never know what to wear! On the bright days it seems criminal to stay in so, even if I have things that must be done, I try to have a short local walk. 

I found out that my favourite route - along the canal towpath to Dowley Gap and then back along the riverbank - is to be closed from now until the end of the year to allow them to upgrade and resurface the towpath (as they have already done on the section from Shipley to Saltaire). The riverbank has to be closed too, because there is no access at the far end if the towpath is closed. That means I shall have to find alternative walking routes - and it seemed to require a farewell walk before the closure. 

In the end I didn't take any photos along most of the route, but the (newly elongated and smoothed) weir was in full flow and so I stopped to look at that. (The alteration is supposed to allow fish to travel upriver more easily.) Then I stopped to admire the autumn colours on the nature reserve and in Roberts Park. Every time I take a local walk, I'm glad to live here. 

Hard work!

I've been working really hard to get my flat into shape, so hard that I have callouses on my hand from the paint roller I've been using! It is slowly but surely rising from the ashes, as it were, and becoming the home I hoped for. I'm building in some breaks, of course. Normal life has to go on. There are everyday chores to do, and exercise is necessary. I walked into Saltaire to stretch my legs and all I encountered were other people also working hard. 

There was the groundsman mowing the cricket pitch. 

There were contractors removing all the pontoons and temporary buildings that had been erected in the park for last weekend's Dragon Boat Racing. (I didn't go down this year; I was too busy with other things. It's more or less the same format every year and, whilst fun for those who participate and a great way to raise money for charity, photographically there's not much new.)

Such large scale events produce a lot of rubbish! 

In Saltaire village, I found scaffolders just finishing a structure around the Dining Hall, now part of Shipley College... and another up at the College's old school building...

and another at the almshouses. It must be the time for roof and stonework repairs. 

Finally, at Hirst Weir, there are big diggers doing some work to rearrange the boulders that have over the years broken down and spread the weir into a rocky cascade. I think they are trying to smooth out some of the slope so that fish can more easily make their way upstream to their spawning grounds. It happened to be the lunch break as I walked past. The machines were idle and the workmen were chatting and eating their sandwiches. 

After seeing all that hard work going on, I came home exhausted! 

Blocked

Everything is blocked! The purchase of my new flat is still stalled, and I have as yet no idea of a moving date. I'm sure it won't be too long now and suddenly everything will be frantic but right now I'm still twiddling my thumbs and trying to keep myself occupied. After a day of heavy rain on Monday, Tuesday was brighter so I went for a walk. Salts Mill is closed on Tuesdays so the paths through the mill yard were blocked. The canal towpath is blocked off for repairs. 

Walking across the footbridge into the park, I could see the river was pretty high, though just about within its banks. 

Up at Hirst Weir, the river had overtopped the bank and looked as though it was now receding a little, leaving huge puddles to reflect the blue sky. The ducks were exploring beyond where they can normally go. 

The depth marker was almost submerged. (I wouldn't fancy living in that house opposite. I presume they have some flood barriers but it still looks quite vulnerable.) A man walking his dog reported that the riverside path was impassable unless you had wellies. I didn't, so I turned round and went back.... Blocked at every turn! 

Turbulence

The Aire was as full as it could be without actually flooding after Storm Debi, our fourth named storm in a few weeks. Honestly, it feels as though it has been raining almost constantly since mid-July, save for the odd sunny day here and there. The newly-laid riverside path was inundated in a few places so my walk was a bit of a paddle in parts. The water has a lot of power when it is like this, and I'd be worried if I lived in one of those riverside properties as there is no sign of a let-up in the rain and there is flooding up in the Dales. Along with the high water, there were a few trees down in the woods. The wind has been gale force, although it was strangely calm by the time I went out. I had to limbo nimbly under some branches blocking the path - not easy when I had a good many layers on, which made it harder to bend - though it actually wasn't as cold as I'd expected due to the lack of wind. Bin collection day tomorrow (as I write this) so let's hope the wind stays away or everywhere will be littered

A Sunday stroll

In the past few days the temperature has dropped by about 10°C. High pressure temporarily brought sunshine and dry weather, with a sharp frost overnight. It was too gorgeous to stay at home but before I went out I had to find a padded jacket, hat and gloves, packed away since last spring. 

Sir Titus' statue in the park has a reassuring air about it, unchanging and paternal. 

Residents on the Coach Road estate had a fine crop of sunflowers. They always lift my spirits. 

Water was crashing over Hirst Weir, thanks to rain in the past few days but further along the riverbank all was calm, apart from the splashing of oars as a couple of rowers (not pictured) from Bradford Amateur Rowing Club enjoyed their Sunday morning exercise. 

Dappled light through the trees was delightful. 

The canal, when I reached it just beyond the aqueduct, was equally calm, with beautiful reflections in its surface. 

I chose to walk back through Hirst Woods, to see how the autumn colour is coming along. Really, it isn't. Most of the trees still have a predominantly green hue, albeit heading towards the yellow end of the spectrum. There are fallen leaves but mostly just brown and dry looking. Autumn seems late this year, I suppose because it's been so mild. I think the leaves need a few frosts to shock them into transition. 

Returning to Saltaire along the canal towpath, I was visually assaulted by this monstrosity. I suppose it's meant as a bit of fun and to catch people's eye. These blow-up figures are usually to be found outside car washes but this is on the ice-cream boat, itself a bit of an eyesore as far as I'm concerned. How this is allowed in the middle of a World Heritage Site is anyone's guess. It makes me cross because residents in Saltaire have to abide by a host of listed building rules and regulations as to what they're allowed to do with their property - and I'm sure having a yellow blow-up creature on the roof would soon be jumped on! I'm obviously well into the grumpy old woman phase of life.