Parlick Hill, Bowland Forest

Parlick in first light

Pendle profile

Parlick from Saddle Fell

Keep Up

Pendle from Parlick

Beacon Fell from Parlick

Mallards posing and reposing

It was an unusual start to the day, after a late arrival the previous evening at my brother's house and overloading on my favourite creamy Lancashire cheeses, we agreed an early morning walk. By 6:30am we were taking two dogs for a round of the hills north of Chipping including Parlick, a regular Friday night jaunt as a teenager after the pubs had closed. It was just above freezing and the light was at its best with the sun streaming in from just above Pendle hill to the east. We walked through the dairy farms that produce the very best of Lancashire Creamy Cheeses and ascended by Saddle End Farm. It was a long steady climb up Saddle Fell with superb views across to Pendle Hill and south to Jeffrey Hill that now seems to go under the name of Longridge Fell.

We let the dogs off their leads when we reached the summit plateau where a new path had recently been laid leading northwards to Fair Snape Hill. The path made for easy going as we were blasted by some sleet. The occasional grouse greeted us with their usual whirring and squawking but there was no one else out at this early hour.

At the summit of Parlick I surveyed the landscape of my youth. Longridge Fell, a long low ridge hiding the Ribble valley, it was the venue for a family walk every Good Friday with a picnic at the top; Pendle Hill is a more strident ridge and home of the Lancashire Witches, a book we had read at Primary School. The river Loud where I had spent my first night camping and freezing in a blanket whilst my father went night fishing. Nearby the Beacon Fell Country Park was being shorn of trees and beyond it the Lancashire Plain dribbled out to the Fylde. I had cycled and walked round these landscapes in all school holidays and my dissertation at university was the geology and settlements of the Loud valley. We had turned a car onto its roof whilst following the Tour of Britain cycle race through the Trough of Bowland but in the days of less flimsy cars we flipped the Morris Minor back onto its wheels and chased the race to Blackpool. On most family special occasions we celebrated in the many local hostelries that served generous portions of local produce and recipes. This largely unknown and unblemished rural hinterland of industrial Lancashire conjured many happy memories.

We descended the steep side of Parlick and followed the mainly well maintained Lancashire local roads back to Chipping. The mill pond was a hive of activity as the birds busied themselves with courtship rituals. A fine way to start the day and made all the more enjoyable when a full breakfast was placed in front of us.