11.86 miles 6h 43m ascent 309m
“It was like exploring a place that you have seen in a dream, where everything is just where you expect it and yet everything is a surprise.”
― Arthur Ransome, Swallows and Amazons
This second leg of the Comedy Way, Grange-over-Sands to Carnforth, was unusual. We crossed the River Kent on the train from Grange-over-Sands – that’s a five minute train ride in place of five hours walking – and took up the walking in Arnside. We could see rain across the sands from the station at Grange and hoped we wouldn’t be walking into it.
It was a quick journey across the River Kent, almost too quick to bother sitting down, and then we were in Arnside for the real walking. There was a barber shop “The Gentleman in Disguise” next to the railway station and I considered having my photo taken beside it, but another nearby sign seemed more appropriate.
Arnside was quiet, but it was a Sunday morning. It looks to have been a Victorian holiday destination and has a pretty promenade with views across the Sands to Grange. Numerous signs warned of fast rising tides and quicksand.
Arthur Ransome, author of children’s book Swallows and Amazons knew Arnside well and his boat, Swallow, was built in Arnside by Francis Crossfield.
We walked along the promenade passing the clock tower, pier and memorial fountain. I had imagined the pier being built as a tourist attraction like Brighton’s or Blackpool’s piers, but a plaque informed us “It was built to provide a wharf for sea-borne traffic after the construction of the viaduct across the estuary had prevented ships from reaching the port of Milatharpe“. Looking at the sands it’s hard to believe sea going vessels would have put in to Arnside.
The memorial fountain has a plaque reading “Dick Grosvenor 1899 – 1903”. Who I believe died of appendicitis. His grandparents commissioned the memorial.
Once on the foreshore I found I was keeping a close eye on the water. High tide was still a couple of hours away but the guidebook warned (in red lettering) that the water rose rapidly a couple of hours before high tide. I was reassured that there were a good many folk walking their dogs on the shore presuming they were locals who would know how the tide behaved. Though in retrospect they may have come from all the caravan parks at New Barns.
The rather dilapidated building in the photograph below was Crossfields Boatyard. There are no plaques or information boards proclaiming its fame but it is where the dinghy “Swallow”, which inspired the Swallows and Amazons children’s books, was built.
I haven’t read any of the Swallows and Amazons books but have bought a copy of the first book. It was written in 1929 and what I have read so far is very much the style I would expect in a children’s book of that time. I’m still mulling over the meaning of the telegram sent by their father, “BETTER DROWNED THAN DUFFERS IF NOT DUFFERS WONT DROWN.”
There was a good deal of sand still visible with herons and oyster catchers in the shallows but the tide siren sounded as we reached the small sandy bay at New Barns. The footpath skirts the small bay here to cross a deep channel on a small bridge. as we walked along here we heard the siren in our side which warns of rising tides.
Our guidebook said it was very unwise to walk along the foreshore around Blackstone point at any time within a couple of hours of high tide, so we walked along the track that took us directly to Arnside point.
From there we were mainly walking on woodland paths though at times we on an exposed cliff that was a little tricky in places. I don’t think I’d like to walk along here with the dogs, or if it had been raining. In places there was exposed and worn limestone which I am sure would be very slippery when wet. As I would find at Jenny Browns Point.
We took our first break near the caravan park near Far Arnside. A well placed seat giving us good views across the sands of the Kent Estuary. We had much better visibility than the day before and could clearly see the buildings of Heysham Power Station.
From here we walked along an attractive country road lined with wildflowers, including cowslips, which we don’t seem to see very often in D&G. A public footpath through fields of horsejumps fields brought us back to the road near a golf course at Cove. A giant squirrel, about a metre tall, guarded the entrance.
Minor roads lined with limestone dykes brought us to the county border, and into the land of the red rose and the meat and potato pie.
Soon enough we were at Silverdale Cove where we joined a footpath across fields to Silverdale, where we could smell cooking. We did not walk up to the centre of Silverdale itself, our route taking the tree lined Lindeth Road. A bench there served us well for lunch.
A word of warning: not all bench slats are horizontal – cups of coffee can spill if set down on such slats
Lindeth Tower was about 100m beyond the bench..
This three storey Victorian folly was built in 1842. Its main claim to fame is that Elizabeth Gaskell wrote her novel Ruth while staying in the tower. I haven’t read Ruth and thought perhaps I might since I am now reading Swallows and Amazons. But having read the plot synopsis I will leave it for now. It doesn’t sound like my cup of tea – I’m too old to be reading tragedies. But reading about Elizabeth Gaskell was interesting. I’ve actually seen the house where she lived in Manchester. I stayed just round the corner from it when I was a med student.
The lane beyond the tower took us to the coast at Jenny Brown’s Point. took us down to Jenny Brown’s point. Wikipedia’ says’s explanation of the name says “It has been said that Jenny was a lover waiting for her lost sailor to return, a nanny who saved her charges from the tide, a lodging-house keeper, or a steam engine (or “jenny”) sent to Brown’s Point“. It has been known as Brown Point, Silverdale Point and Lindeth Point over the years. The cottages just beyond the point are named Brown’s Houses and there is some suggestion that Jenny may have been a daughter
By now the tide was in and there was still a little more foreshore to be walked.
The track ended at Brown’s Houses and we took to the remaining foreshore with a little trepidation. By then the tide had risen to leave just a narrow section of limestone above the water. A couple of walkers coming towards us said the way was just passible. The use of the word “just” did worry me. We managed fine until we were approaching the chimney. Here the waters were encroaching between the rocks in places and I made the mistake of stepping on a slightly darker rock. It was actually dark because it was wet and slippery enough that I took a tumble. I thought at first I was going to fall back into the water but somehow managed to convert my movement into a forward fall so I got bruised knees rather than a dunking.
The Chimney dates back to the 1790s and is said to have been part of a copper smelting works. An information board nearby had a artist’s impression showing a stone quay but if any of that remained, it was underwater when we passed.
Beyond the chimney we were walking along the edge of a saltmarsh. I imagine that during spring tides the water would cover this completely but we found it easy enough to find our way around the various shallow fingers of water reaching in.
Quaker’s Stang is an embankment separating Leighton Moss, of RSPB fame, from Warton Marsh. Leighton Moss is drained by waterway named Quicksand Pool. This tidal marsh had been very dangerous land to cross until the embankment was built in the 1820s. There is little certainty about the etymology of Quaker’s Stang, but an estate map from 1829 names the embankment itself as “new embankment” and the bridge over Quicksand Pool as “Quaker’s Stang”. So it is likely that the name of the crossing of Quicksand Pool has come to be applied to the whole embankment. So who were the Quaker’s associate with the bridge? No one knows. And “Stang”? Again there is no certainty. It could mean stone, perhaps a slab over the waterway. Stang can also mean a rod or pole which could be a measure or refer to a pole that once marked the crossing place.
There were several other people walking across the stang including a pair with binoculars who were watching at a flock of geese. As I walked past them I asked them what type of geese these were. I had expected an immediate answer, even if it was “don’t know” but instead there was a long pause, furrowing of brows and then after a few moments with “I’m not sure but just let me think. I’ll look it up on Google”, we were informed they were pink-footed geese. But having looked it up this myself at home, I think they were actually Greylags.
Quaker’s Stang eventually brought us to a farm track which lead us under the railway and along to the main road at Crag Foot. And another chimney, dating back to the 1840s and once part of the pumping station that drained Leighton Moss.
Up until this point our route walk had been mostly level but the road from Crag Foot was a steady climb. The name, Windy Scout Brow, should have been a clue. The sun was beginning to shine through the clouds and we had excellent views across the estuary to Grange. The spring flowers were out in perfusion. and there were interesting statues along the way.
We left the road on a rocky track, Occupation Road, up to Warton Crag.
This was an unusual name for a road and it took me quite some time to find why it had the name. My initial searches didn’t help very much often giving rather unconvincing explanations. These included it being a drove road (though it was too narrow and steep for this), a bridleway (where again the steepness made me a little uncertain) and even on one case where it was said to be a bridal way which must be a typo, but you never know. Then I had a brainwave and looked up Occupation Road in a Dictionary.
An “occupation road” is a road that provides access to private land or premises for the purpose of those with an interest in the land, rather than being a public thoroughfare. It might have a public right of way, but primarily serves the needs of the landowners and occupants.
The guidebook gives two routes to Warton, the first takes a direct route from the summit down to the village but with a warning that it involves climbing and scrambling down a short limestone cliff. The book suggested that those lacking nimbleness of foot or afflicted by arthritic knees should use an alternative route which follows the Occupation Road down the eastern side of Crag and then a footpath through Potts Wood.
I don’t think I have arthritic knees and I probably have the expertise to say that but I am not especially unnimble of foot. But we didn’t fancy twisted ankles or broken bones so chose the alternate route.
We stopped for our sandwiches a little before the highest point of the road. I did wonder whether we should leave the road at one of the farm gates and find a suitable rock but where there were fields they were filled with young lambs and where it was woodland it was markedly overgrown. We eventually found a couple of logs that we could sit on and had our sandwiches in the dappled shade. My seat was a little unstable but was probably good exercise for my balance.
Descent on the Occupation Road was in fact quite steep and being a rocky path one had to be careful where one stepped. In my mind I remember thinking that we should leave the Occupation Road before we reached the real road and that this would be just after we passed a building, So we continued down only to find ourselves at the minor road. I consulted the map again and realised that the footpath should have been before the buildings, so we looked back up the Occupation Road and began tramping our way uphill once more. I had missed a narrow gap style in the wall. I think I’d been looking at my feet to make sure they didn’t go into a hole or step onto a mobile rock.
The route through Potts Wood was not particularly difficult but there were sections of exposed limestone and some tricky step like areas to negotiate. To be perfectly honest if you weren’t nimble of foot or had arthritic knees this probably wouldn’t be a great way either.
The Walton Crag nature reserve has built some waymarked paths and halfway through the woods we joined one of these (waymarked as the red, long route). From here the path was a little wider and certainly easier going. I was surprised however that there were several paths branching away and had we been coming in the opposite direction I’m not sure it would have been obvious which to take (there were no waymarkers)
The path ended at a wooden gate and we made our way down into Warton, passing by St Oswald’s church, into Warton. The church was flying the St George’s Cross but on the 4th of July it flies the Stars and Stripes since George Washington’s family is said to have originated here.
We emerged opposite the Malt Shovels Inn and decided to pause for a couple of Diet Cokes while resting our weary legs. Rejuvenated we walked a little way back into the village to visit the ruins of the old rectory. The gates had us flummoxed at first – they wouldn’t open enough to allow me+rucksack through. They obviously didn’t open outwards (the ground sloped up preventing that but nor would they open inwards. I think the gates had been forced over the small metal gate stop. The only way through was to take off my rucksack and breathe in.
The Old Rectory dates from the early 14th century and is therefore much older than the present church buildings. It is unclear why St Oswald’s had such a magnificent Rectory nor why it was abandoned but it was reported as being in a ruinous state by 1721.
After the rectory we had a slightly boring, and slightly uphill, walk along Sand Lane to the Bay Cycleway. Once over the railway this minor road route follows the cycle way beside the river Keer. I had expected a riverside walk here but it had a more industrial feel with green metal fencing protecting the rail yards. A wooden footbridge eventually took us over the river and along minor road through woodland into Carnforth which was much larger than I expected.
I don’t think I had heard of Carnforth Station before but I’ve presumably passed through it many times since the main line trains pass through (though they do not stop any more). The film Brief Encounter (1946) was filmed at the station here and there is now a dedicated visitor centre nd even a sign for Milford Junction, the fictitious train station in the film. I’ll have to admit that I haven’t watched Brief Encounter, but I’ve seen plenty of clips from it, as well as many skits playing on its clipped 1940s .
The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon
― Brief Encounter, 1945
We finished the second day of the Comedy Way still able to smile. The Guidebook distance was 10.9 miles, and our actual distance only a little less than mile more than that. The train took us back to Grange (where we saw some Bar head geese).
