Above the village of Stainforth in Ribblesdale, the innocuous little stream called Stainforth Beck runs down from the fells. Suddenly, it disappears...
It's only the sound of rushing water that gives the game away... A track through a gate leads you down into a wooded ravine and the quite breathtaking sight of Catrigg Force. The stream falls over several big drops (there are more downstream, though you can't easily access those) and through a rather pretty plunge pool.
Gordale Beck falls prettily over a band of tufa rock into a circular pool. It's really attractive, both the way the cascade tumbles down and the pool itself, which in good light is a clear, soft, aqua turquoise colour. There are small caves in the rock, said to be inhabited by 'Jennet, Queen of the Fairies' - not that I've ever seen her. For those with time to spare, there's an interesting article HERE by a blogger who at one time lived in Malham and has researched the legend.
Looking back the way I walked in, the rocky sides of the gorge rise above the stream as it trickles down.
The ravine was probably formed by water from melting glaciers at the end of the Ice Age, which carved out caverns and potholes that run through and under the limestone in this area. It's likely that a cavern collapsed here, to form the gorge. It is breathtaking scenery. People come from all over to see it and it has featured in poems, paintings and films.
After all the rain we'd had, I wanted to see Linton Falls near Grassington. When I went last summer, the Wharfe was merely a trickle but after rain it's a gushing torrent - noisy and exhilarating.
The lower falls (above), where the footbridge crosses, tumble over natural shelves in the rock, below a weir. There used to be a mill there, and the bridge made it easy for the mill workers to walk down from the village to work. The upper falls cascade over another weir, and there's a hydro-electric plant there.
The woods are laced with footpaths and some interesting willow sculptures. I've shown this one on my blog before but it is a favourite of mine: The Huntress. She looks a little more fragile every year and I suppose one day she'll collapse and return to nature, which is kind of poetic.
I arranged to meet up with a good friend of long-standing in Malham recently. He's Dutch and was over here on a cycling trip through the Yorkshire Dales. We couldn't work out how long it is since we last saw each other but it must be at least ten years. As with most of those precious old friendships, we managed quite quickly to slot back in to an easy chat about this and that. Thankfully his command of English is (has always been) superb - since my command of Dutch is non-existent!
Our drought is over... We decided to walk along the river to Janet's Foss. We started in glorious sunshine and then, when we arrived at the falls, it decided to chuck it down, torrential rain! So it was two very wet people who eventually made it back to the pub for a late lunch. (Note to self: my walking shoes are NOT waterproof, neither are my thicker walking trousers. I need to invest in some new waterproof trousers.)
Janet's Foss has, no doubt, been a mere trickle all summer but a few days of heavy rain soon replenishes our upland streams and the falls were a roaring cascade.
The first photo, at the top, is Malham Cove itself, from beside the road at the top of the village. We didn't walk all the way over to the Cove but occasionally a bit of light picked out the huge, curving rock face quite dramatically.
Swaledale mini break 2
The road between Thwaite and Keld winds its way along the valley side around Kisdon Hill. It's a good place from which to see the characteristic Swaledale barns. How many can you count in the photo above? It's a very distinctive agricultural landscape, shaped over at least the past 250 years, and its significance is thankfully now being recognised so that many of the barns are being restored and their history recorded.
Being Yorkshire, there are plenty of the characteristic drystone walls, snaking improbably around the field slopes.
The River Swale around Keld has some good waterfalls. Kisdon Force is quite a steep drop, though I didn't hike down to it this time. The one pictured - Wain Wath Force - is a gentler cascade, though there was very little water in the river; it has been such dry weather for weeks.
There are still bikes all over the place, originally, I think, to celebrate the Tour de France stage in 2014, and then left, simply because they are fun. The one pictured was decked with Royal Jubilee bunting.
There's a valley that leads roughly north on the Bolton Abbey estate, up Barden Fell, following the line of a beck. It's called the Valley of Desolation but is much nicer than the name would suggest. (I believe the name comes from the aftermath of a storm that caused havoc in Victorian times.) Part way up at Posforth Gill, the beck tumbles over rocks in a rather pretty waterfall. My photo was taken on my phone so it is a little over-bright in the water, but you can see what an attractive pattern the cascade has. I'll have to go back with my big camera.
Along the valley there are also some boggy ponds, which were full of frogs, many of them mating. You had to be really careful where you placed your feet to avoid steeping on them along the path! A frog he would a-wooing go - heigh ho!
I also spotted some rather attractive lichens and mosses. I once knew a botanist who was an expert in lichens and even had one named after him. I could have done with his experience on my walk.
As the day wore on the weather got even worse! I headed for the market town of Hawes, where at least there are places to go inside. Just up the road behind Hawes is the village of Gayle, sitting on either side of Gayle Beck which flows steeply down to Hawes in a series of falls. (I told you there were a lot of waterfalls in this area of the Dales.) Originally a farming settlement, it grew in the late 18th century as quarries and coal mines opened in the area. The beck also provided the water power to drive Gayle Mill, built around 1780 as a cotton-spinning mill and converted to a sawmill in 1878. After featuring on the TV programme Restoration in 2004, it was indeed restored and functioned as a working sawmill, where they ran workshops and sought to preserve the old, heritage skills. It was closed in 2018, though I have been on a tour of it in the past. (See HERE). The Gayle Mill Trust still operates out of other premises, so I'm not sure if the Mill will reopen or not.
The village centre is a Conservation area, and has several old buildings like Old Hall below, with a date stone of 1695.
Tucked away behind the Green Dragon pub at Hardraw there is an exquisite little valley, narrow and meandering, with a secret at its core. The stream is Hardraw Beck, crisscrossed by bridges and with paths penetrating up the gorge.
At the head of the gorge is the secret: Hardaw Force, the longest single drop waterfall in England (above ground) at 100 feet high. It was certainly impressive after recent rains, and the drizzle and mist only added to the drama. The waterfall stars in 'Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves', in a scene where Maid Marian catches Robin Hood bathing under it. (I really needed Kevin Costner there in my photo - to give scale, you understand.)
The valley is privately owned and has a quirky café at its entrance, with a helpful weather station that only confirmed what I already knew - that it was raining! The gorge has such remarkable acoustics that a brass band festival takes place here each year (pre-Covid anyway) and other musical events are also staged.
I hope you're not tired of seeing waterfalls! There seem to be as many in this area of the Yorkshire Dales as there are in Iceland, though perhaps not quite so spectacular. The light was fading by the time I arrived at perhaps the most famous of them - Aysgarth Falls. In fact along this stretch of the River Ure there are three sets of falls - Upper, Middle and Lower, all within a half a mile or so of each other and all quite easy to access. My photos show the Upper Falls.
By the way, the dale is called Wensleydale, after a village, rather than Uredale after the river, which is a departure from the style of most of the other Yorkshire Dales. There are, however, several places that have Yoredale in their name, harking back to the older name.
The amount of blur a waterfall photo needs is a matter of personal preference, I guess. I quite like the milky effect of a long exposure, as it suggests the motion of the water tumbling down.
