The television mast atop Winter Hill rises like a sentinel gazing vacantly down on my small car whenever Small Keefe and I are doing the school run. It’s visible from just about everywhere in the North West of England, and I used to think that it was so named because it so high that it was always topped with snow.
There she be, rising above all.
The trip here, a mere 32 or so miles there and back (hey, who’s counting?), was a let’s – go – to – Mordor – style journey of epic proportions. Three points: first of all, I chose the hottest day of the year to do so. Secondly, I did it on my birthday. Thirdly – and most importantly, if you’re thinking of doing it yourself – it involves A CLIMB. Hell, you’d think that point 3 would have been pretty uppermost in my mind, wouldn’t you? I blame point two, I guess.
So here’s the picturesque town of Chorley, and the first of two churches on the journey. We’ll return here in the future.
I’ve mentioned my fascination with churches before, right? Well here’s St. Mary’s in Chorley, overlooking the town centre:
I particularly liked the little surprise around the back. I’m by no means a Catholic anymore, thanks to my hippy and punk roots. You’d call me a pagan, or a tree- hugger, if anything, but still, finding things like this always blows me away:
Drawing on the vague memories of Catholic school that I’ve spent a lifetime suppressing, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that this is St Mary appearing to St Bernadette. Anyone out there gonna enlighten me further?
Back on the road, and the path began to rise. And rise.
Useful information: don’t be too proud to stop and ask people the way. Although you can see the summit, the way up it’s never obvious. Anyway, back to the journey…
This is the doorway to the Rivington Unitarian Chapel, at the foot of the hill. It looks kinda like a Mormon chapel on the plains of Utah in the late 1800’s, and I loved it. There are Southern Gothic songs waiting to be written in the air around here.
From here, things began to get rocky. And not like listening to Twisted Sister.
“We’ve been traveling over Rocky Ground”. Mostly, I sit on Trigger’s back. Other times…
This handsome fella obviously had some questions as I staggered by:
“Why is that bike riding A MAN?”
Still, if Trigger’s wheels weren’t turning, then the wheel of life certainly continued to do so:
A kiss from Mum, and all’s fine.
A quick pause for breath, almost at the top:
More like “a half hour long fight for breath”.
And eventually, we’re there, above the world:
I believe that’s Bolton down there, Reebok Stadium standing out.
Preston to the left of the picture. Keep an eye on that tower to the right.
“Chorley, we meet again. But this time the (ad)vantage (point) is mine”.
So this is the view from the summit of Rivington Pike, 1,191 ft above sea level. A beacon once stood here, and it’s now the site of a grade II listed tower:
It’s no Glastonbury Tor, but it’s a welcome sight.
Across the way lies Winter Hill, where the TV mast stands. There’s evidence of prehistoric activity and burial mounds there, and the ghost of a spectral horseman is said to traverse its slopes. Good luck to him, I say. It took me half an hour to get up there with Trigger on my back. I’d hate to have to carry a horse up it, ghost or otherwise.
Trigger proudly takes a selfie.
The journey downhill was also of the rocky variety, which meant that I couldn’t simply leap on Trigger and coast down. In fact, at times I wished I’d been bitten by a radioactive spider. Still, there were rewards, of a kind. This place, for example:
Some people REALLY think a lot of pigeons.
This is the Dovecote Tower, also known as the Pigeon Tower. Built in 1910 by Lord Leverhulme for his wife to use for sewing (with a nice relaxing view of the lake, I believe), it was also used in later years as a pigeon loft.
Once a mighty garden, now left to nature. As it should be.
My back almost doubled in the saddle, hips grinding as though they were made of tin, I downed the last of the bottled water and set sail for home under the afternoon sun, allowing myself to look back just the once:
Yes, this is the lake you saw from above in the earlier pictures.
A long ride, but great if you’re into fell walking or similar activities. The view’s wonderful, and prepare to have your mind blown when see how many people are already there waiting as you reach the summit.
Just don’t build your hopes up for snow, though.
Til next time,
S.
and T.
