Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Blackstone Edge

Daniel and I went for a walk to the top of Blackstone Edge the other day, as we do from time to time. As usual, we parked by the White House Inn on the A58 and followed the Pennine Way footpath South. An icecream van has parked in a layby close to this spot for as many years as I can remember. We'd bought ourselves icecreams and were sitting in the car eating them, when we saw a crowd of 20 or more white-robed people descending the Pennine Way path from the Edge. They all piled into the cars parked around us and drove off. Daniel said he'd seen the same group on his previous visit. Intrigued, I searched the internet for any reference to white robed people on Blackstone Edge, only to discover that the group had been seen  frequently there and that other people who'd seen them were intrigued too.


I always find it fascinating the way these round basins form on the top of gritstone boulders:


The view North(ish), from the summit:


Wandering round the hilltop I was reminded of Alan Burnett's post on his News From Nowhere blog about the commemoration of a Chartist gathering there.

8 comments:

Gwil W said...

For some reason this post reminds me of the time I tried to walk over the old Salt Path from Wray to Dunsop Bridge. Shotgun pellets suddenly started whizzing out of the heather and fortunately over my head. Then I saw them. They were crouched in their tweeds. The purple face one bellowed something about it being the glorious 12th (August) and me being a bloody fool . . .

Tom Stephenson said...

They look like the Argyle 'cup and ring' carvings in the Highlands.

The Weaver of Grass said...

Were these people real or figments of your joint imaginations then? You can't leave us in suspense.

Dominic Rivron said...

Thanks for these comments!

Gwil W: I hope you reminded him there's an H in pheasant. :)

Tom S: I know what you mean. I think these are naturally formed by the incessant action of water though.

WG: Real. It would have been a nice fictional touch, though.

Rachel Fenton said...

You've got the bones of an eerily great short story there, Dominic. Most bizarre - love the way they piled in the cars at the end of that scene though - like a C4 film or a Simon Armitage poem. Keeping it real.

"round basins form on the top of gritstone boulder" - fairy baths - obvioulsy! Or, ants trapped in a drop of rain for yonks and running round to try and get out making the circles like cows in a round ditch.....the possibilities are endless...

GOAT said...

Ice-cream trucks and Druids descending from the hills. Who says the golden age of British psychedelia has gone?

tony said...

How Odd! I have never heard of those white robe gezzers........[the East Lancs Chapter of the KKK?] Very Much The Same Spot that I came across "Captain Helliwell"

Dominic Rivron said...

Thanks for these comments.

RF: The bones, indeed, but not the flesh. I'm now irritating myself with my lack of knowledge about the origins of these gritstone outcrops.

GOAT: I'd not thought of that. As I described it, there are definite overtones of a Yorks/Lancs Wicker Man style mystery.

tony: Definitely not the KKK. All the robed people were black. And Capt. Helliwell -that was a sad story, I remember, lightened only by the wonderful "No Potpourri" joke.