Countrystride

...in which we celebrate the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness in one of the north country’s foremost orchards. Striding out from the Georgian facade of the National Trust’s Acorn Bank in the company of Ruth Cassell (Gardens & Landscape Manager for Lakes and Eden Portfolio) and Bronwyn Thomas (Garden Supervisor at Acorn Bank), we’re introduced to our heroine of the podcast – Dorothy Una Ratcliffe, the Yorkshire-born author, traveller and woman of means, who bought the property in 1934 and began planting apple trees. Arriving in Dorothy’s walled orchard, we learn about the journey of the humble apple, from the mountain forests of Kazakhstan, by way of the Silk Road and expanding Roman empire, to the gardens and orchards of landed Cumbria, including Lowther Castle and Holker Hall. Walking among the laden boughs of Acorn Bank’s 175+ heritage apple varieties, the waters of Crowdundle Beck bubbling in the background, we consider the establishment of this nationally important collection through a collaborative lineage of gardeners and apple enthusiasts, and about the science (and accidents) of apple cultivation – of grafting, root stocks and pollination. In the house’s drawing room – now joined by Margaret Hoyes (Gardener at Sizergh) – we embark on a heritage apple taste test, focussing on local varieties like the Keswick Codlin (actually from Ulverston), Nelson's Favourite (not that Nelson), the Duke of Devonshire (not that Duke of Devonshire), Lord Lambourne and super-local Maulds Meaburn, before noting the Hallowe’en-horror origin story of the Bloody Ploughman. Reflecting on the nation’s favourite fruit – and learning the chemical difference between eaters and cookers, the importance of an open canopy and how best to pick an apple – we consider both the vulnerability of heritage varieties and their increasing importance in a fragile food system during an era of changing climate and seasons. Acorn Bank comprises ornamental gardens, 180 acres of parkland and woodland, a café and historic working watermill. The property closes for the winter in November and reopens in February ready for half term. For more information see here. You can learn more about Cumbria’s orchards from the North Cumbria Orchard Group and South Lakeland Orchard Group. A reminder that on Friday next week (6 Nov), we host our first Countrystride Live event of the autumn at Rheged – ‘Are Our National Parks Broken?’ with Julian Glover, Tiffany Hunt, Tim Farron MP and Rose O’Neill, where we’ll ask why interest in our protected landscapes has waned in Westminster – even as visitor pressures mount – and what a renewed vision for world-leading protected landscapes might look like. With plenty of chance to ask questions, and exclusive access to the Forty Fells exhibition, tickets can be purchased here: https://rheged.com/event/countrystride-live-are-our-national-parks-broken/

...in which we celebrate the satisfaction of long days on the fells in a ‘rock and stroll’ ascent of enigmatic Carrock Fell in the northeast corner of Lakeland. In a ‘Mark and Dave’ pod, we set out from Carrock Beck on a northerly pasture line onto the Back a’ Skidda’ massif, discussing what ‘great mountain days’ mean to us – long journeys, ever-changing scenery, a mix of natural and human interest, a sense of adventure… and the post-walk pint. Climbing past tumbledown bields and chatting with fellow walkers, we swap favourite great mountain days – a high-level circuit of Great Gable, a greater Langdale traverse, the Kentmere Round – and reflect on the difference between bagging and wider journeys through the Lakeland landscape. Arriving on Carrock Fell’s rocky summit, we discuss the enigmatic ‘hill fort’, the remarkable view (Cheviot visible on the northeastern horizon) and the fell’s unlikely place in one of English literature’s most celebrated travelogues. Traversing the fell’s squelchy western ridge, we give mountain-day love to a Derwent Water circular, a Wetherlam wander and a Newlands round. Descending the old sledway of Red Gate, we discuss the Caldbeck Fells’ extensive mining history – not least the remarkable Carrock tungsten mine – and close the pod by reflecting on the mounting stand-offs between walking ambitions and ageing limbs. Mark’s new book, Best Walks in the Lake District, can be ordered direct from Cicerone here, or from all good Cumbrian bookshops. Dave’s new book, Forty Fells, can be ordered direct from Inspired by Lakeland here, or from all good Cumbrian bookshops.

...in which we head east to one of Lakeland’s loneliest dales, and tell the story of a once-thriving valley lost beneath the dammed waters of Haweswater. In the company of local historian and dialect champion Jean Scott-Smith, we set the historic scene on Mardale, cradled in the Far Eastern Fells and overlooked by a British fort, a Roman Road and Scandinavian shielings. Proceeding into the 18th century, Jean paints a picture of a bustling farmed valley, with rich dairy pastures and a steady flow of traders and packmen making their way over the passes of Nan Bield and Gatesgarth and down past High and Low Water. Recounting tales of the Kendal Archers, boisterous nights at the Old Dun Bull (where buckets of ale were passed around) and the legendary week-long Mardale Shepherds Meet (originally held on High Street, latterly at the Dunnie), we introduce a range of local characters, from the Kings of Mardale to eccentric ‘Old Barham’ the vicar, who bled parishioners using a tortoise-shell lancet. With the waters of Thirlmere insufficient to meet the growing thirst of Manchester, we learn about Manchester Corporation’s acquisition of the valley – with barely a whisper of protest – and, following the Haweswater Act of 1919, the subsequent abandonment of the hamlets of Measand, Mardale Green and Whelter before the grammar school was relocated, the church taken down and Royal Engineers arrived with explosives to raze the remaining farms and homesteads. Heading up-dale to rain-drenched Mardale Head, Jean points out landmarks uncovered by the summer’s drought – including foundations of the Dun Bull, and the old valley road (its walls as they were 90 years after the terminal flood) – before noting nearabouts landmarks – the corpse road to Shap, the grandstand-view peatcutters’ huts, the former navvie settlement of Burnbanks. Closing the pod in Shap’s upper graveyard – where many of Mardale’s dead were reinterred – we reflect on the passing of a community; on the media circus that unfolds in dry years; and on the surprise discovery of Mardale’s long lost church organ. Shap Local History Society holds an extensive archive, including artefacts and images relating to Mardale, at their Heritage Centre, Market Cross, Shap. The archive is open by arrangement – please contact either 01931 716671 or 01931 716386.

…in which we tour south Lakeland to tell the remarkable story of an industry that expanded from one-man bloomeries set deep in the woods to blast furnaces powering the industrial age. In the company of industrial history enthusiast Mark Hatton we begin our journey at Glen Mary below Tarn Hows, where we are introduced to the three ingredients that allowed Furness monks to first produce iron: expansive woodlands, fast-flowing rivers and rich deposits of local hematite. Noting clues of iron in the landscape – Red Screes, Red Pike, Red Tarn – we visit an oak-shaded glade that was once a charcoal-burners’ platform, where coppiced timber was piled high then baked to create the ‘rocket fuel’ charcoal required to generate temperatures of 1,000+ degrees centigrade. Moving upstream, we come upon an ancient bloomery, where hematite from Orgrave (literally ‘ore pit’) was transported, by boat then pony, to ‘bloom’ in the charcoal hearth before being forged into weapons and farming tools to help Cumbria’s medieval farmers eke out a marginal living. Heading south, we visit the site of a 17th century bloom-smithy in the heart of Coniston, learn about the laws introduced to ban timber extraction as Lakeland’s woods were fed to the furnaces, and the journey of Cumbrian entrepreneurs into Scotland as home-grown forests were denuded. Ending our trip in Furnace Wood (the clue’s in the name) above Duddon Bridge, we explore a network of ancient holloways and moss-reclaimed cobbled trails, remnants of a thriving woodland industry feeding Britain’s largest surviving blast furnace, where a huge waterwheel powered bellows heating a next-generation hearth to fulfil the insatiable iron needs of the industrial age. Taking a long view of a lost, and neglected, industry, we seek out a slate wall melted by fire before reflecting on the zenith, then decline, of Cumbria’s iron age, when Barrow alone produced more steel than anywhere else on earth. The Duddon Furnace (with parking alongside) is located at Grid Reference SD 197 883, immediately north-west of Duddon Bridge. More details can be found at https://lakedistrict.gov.uk/explore/things-to-do/historical-places/industrial-heritage-sites/ The first site we visited was in Lane head Coppice beside Tom Gill below Tarn Hows (SD 3221, 9989). It is around a two minute walk uphill from Glen Mary car park (National Trust).

...in which we ramble up remote Liddesdale in the extreme north-east of Cumbria to uncover the remarkable history of a unique independent territory transformed into a bloody borderland. In the company of author and academic Graham Robb we set out from Kershopefoot along the trackbed of the historic Waverley Line, taking in the landscape of the once-unique enclave between England and Scotland; an uninhabited ‘batable’ grazing land bounded by the rivers Liddel, Esk and Sark that formed a buffer zone between often warring nations. Stepping into the Scottish Borders, we discuss the popular perception of the ‘reiving’ families who lived around this anomalous territory – the Elliots, Armstrongs and Grahams – and the raids that saw cattle rustled and fortified peel towers set ablaze. Surveying moorland and scattered woods to rising Tinnis Hill, Graham outlines a parallel history; one of stability, in which a raid was not thuggery, but a coming-of-age ritual/form of trade in an advanced pastoral society with strict Border laws that kept the peace for 1,500 years. Passing meadows with folds and dips that made ideal hiding places for rogues and raiders, we move into the mid-1500s, when the English and Scots crowns orchestrated a plan to carve up the Debatable Land by making lawlessness legal, preparing the ground for characters like ballad outlaw Kinmont Willie and the sadistic Duke of Buccleuch to conduct reigns of terror. Closing in on Liddel Water, we learn about the end of the Debatable Land, and the “astonishingly beautiful and accurate map” (below) that recorded the establishment of what Graham argues is “the oldest detectable territorial division in Great Britain”. Reflecting on the violent excesses that wiped the one-time grazing lands from the map, Graham discusses the long shadow cast by imperial colonialism, the persistent discomfort over cross-border marriage and the independent spirit that lingers in border folk. We close with our quickfire questions, where Graham recalls a relationship-testing ascent of Swirral Edge, waxes lyrical about the definitive descriptions of Cumbrian rain in Rogue Herries and notes the advice he was given before moving into the borderlands – to “leave the pub by 9.30 at the latest”. The Debatable Land: The Lost World Between Scotland and England is published by Picador.