A little stuck perhaps?

Every year two or three cars get stuck on this sharp junction up at the entrance to Fyling Hall school, at Fylingthorpe.near Whitby. This car had to be lifted out by crane as it could neither reverse or go forward.





And another one June 2017

Getting Lost in Wintergill Plantation?

Our local paper, the Whitby Gazette reported this Tuesday 17th August that a family of 3 adults and 8 children had to call out the mountain rescue as they were 'lost' inside Wintergill plantation. Lost? You can see from the map that at most the plantation is less than 1km wide and in a valley. You couldn't hide 11 people in that plantation!! The family were staying in Glaisdale and had walked to the woods. Obviously having walked either up to it or down to it from the road they obviously couldn't work out which way was back. Surely even simply knowing that it is in a valley you could walk downhill and end up in the open valley below or uphill and you end up on the road.
Read the full story here

Canoeing the Rivers Rye & Derwent (North Yorkshire)

Dropped off at Newham Bridge a few miles NW of Malton on the R.Rye. The river is narrow and I soon encountered the first of a handful of log jambs which had to be negotiated. This section of the Rye contains several simple rapids. But the biggest challenge was avoiding the many sheep drowned in the winter due to flooding. There's no way around this. Through Malton. Not pleasant but no one noticed!! An hours paddling took me to Jeffry Bog a couple of meadows managed by Yorkshire Wildlife trust and absolutely packed with many species of grasses, flowers and awash with common blue butterflies. I decide to camp just downstream. No tent, just the canoe, a karrimat and my fishing gear. Its a warm evening and as darkness approaches I notice a ripple advancing towards me from close to my side of the bank. I knew this was no bird and keeping as still as possible a pair of otters came and swam in front of me, one of which approached to within several feet to see what I was. I woke early the next morning to be greeted by this young bullock.. My arms were still sore after some neck and shoulder injury so I decided I wouldn't paddle much further that day. Another night was spent further upstream and I discovered a family of otters playing in a tiny feeder stream. One of the many moorhens nests along the banks side. (To be continued)

Ian Bailey (3)

Our neighbour in Ireland was Ian Bailey and is the most arrogant, pompous and vindictive man I ever met. He spent years trying to prevent me walk over the fields near our respective houses, despite knowing that the owner is my very good friend. He even got his Cork, big boy Lawyer, Frank Buttimer to send me threatening letters. (which all went directly into the waste bin). He threatened me a few times, and kept a collection of photographs of me as I crossed the fields. Often he ran to his boundary to shout at me although I never really heard what he was saying, This woman beater - he beat his partner Jules Tomas ("I'm an artist you know") up a few times, and once enough for her to be admitted to hospital such were the state of her injuries.

Of course Bailey loves publicity and made sure he hit the news whenever he could often biting off more than he could chew as when his liable case against several newspapers failed. A coward at heart despite his arrogance, he spent most of the time hiding at home. Now it just looks as though this unemployed ex gardener and fish filliter might just have more on his plate. The French authorities now want to extradite him for the murder of Frenchwoman Sophie du Plantair. Read more

If you wish to read more about his alleged role in the murder click here

Canoeing the Tees - Neasham to Dinsdale

Managed to get out paddling on the River Tees with a group from the Song of The Paddle forum. Jilly came too!

You can read & see more pictures by clicking right here

Yorkshire Hedgelaying

A Yorkshire Hedge.
This is the hedge before laying.
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And this is the 'after' shot. No bindings or railings are used in this part of Yorkshire and quite often the hedge is laid at a much flatter angle, sometimes almost on the ground..











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And if that wasn't enough to keep my spirits happy, it was only a two minute drive from home and I could see my house in the distance. What a view!

The Personnel Manager and the Sheep

(NB. This took place whilst we were house hunting in Ireland in 1998!and has just been published in the Bayfair magazine)

The pale yellow walls of the old farmhouse could just be seen beyond the cattle grid, numerous overgrown shrubs and dereliction passed off as the garden. The for sale sign told us that we’d come to the right spot, a traditional Irish farmhouse, 3 windows above, centre door and two windows opposite below. Only the front door in clear orange glass, framed in aluminium spoilt the dream. Time for a look around. No one at home. A large Suffolk ram wandered the yard and came to investigate. Obviously hand reared it seemed to delight in having its head rubbed. Our duty fulfilled it wandered off to munch what was left of what once may have been lawn.

A few minutes later, our curiosity satisfied, we strolled down the front drive, quickly followed by our new found friend the sheep. A last scratch on the head and we made for the entrance. But the sheep wasn’t letting us go easily and as we reached the entrance I saw the sheep accelerating towards us from within the darkness of several leylandii trees, its head down and clearly looking for a fight. Luckily for us the owner had been doing some minor tree surgery and a handy branch was used in an attempt to fend the ram off. In a valiant rearguard action we retreated down the drive, and reversed over the cattle grid to the safety of the road. I never realised how far a sheep could jump and was duly surprised to see the ram clear the grid with ease as it sprinted towards us again and I quickly regretted throwing my branch away.

The first lunge I fended off with my hand, the second with my knee and it was obvious the sheep was just as determined to land a blow as I was to avoid one.

“Run Trish”. Trish needed no encouragement and was running fast. I quickly thought of plan B, which was just as well as there had been no plan A. As Trish sprinted down the road, leaving the sheep and me to sort things out ourselves, it tried to outflank me but failed as I rugby tackled it to the ground and quickly used arms and legs to pinion it and stop its flaying legs from causing further damage to my ego. I hadn’t got this far in my plan yet so I laid on the road and thought what to do next. Clearly I had to think quickly because I wasn’t relishing the thought of having to explain to the next passing driver why an Englishman was laid in the middle of a road with a large ram gripped between his legs and pinned in my arms!

I got to my feet and tried to lift the ram up and carry it back over the cattle grid. I’d not had much practice lifting Suffolk rams as a personnel manager and clearly this showed, as it proved impossible to lift. So grabbing it’s front feet it got pulled along the road and back over the cattle grid where I left it on it’s back. Smugly walking back down the road to Trish I looked back at the sheep which was still on it’s back. Damn! I ‘d heard of sheep being stuck like this – but only in magazine articles. Perhaps the sheep had a trick up its sleeve (or wherever sheep keep them), I don’t know but I couldn’t leave it there could I? So back over the cattle grid (it clearly wasn’t much of sheep grid) and I pulled the sheep onto its side, expecting another tussle. But the sheep slowly walked off and started nibbling on the remains of a flower bed.

Back in the car and ten minutes later we were driving over a very narrow, twisty mountain pass only to discover our way blocked by a farmer moving his young lambs into a field. There were nearly a hundred and each one was being lifted over a fence. There was no point in just sitting so I got out and asked the farmer if he’d like a hand lifting the lambs over the fence. “Have ye experience handling sheep?” he asked as I grabbed the first one by the back of the neck and swung it over the wire and into the pasture. “A little” I replied.