The seasons progress and the weather is changing.
After a month of near-constant rain interspersed with heavy fog, a high-pressure system is moving in and bringing with it clearer skies and lower temperatures.
Winter has arrived.
On Saturday we were greeted with clear skies and a biting wind. We ventured into the Yorkshire Dales—Clapham, to be precise—for a hike up towards and above Trow Gill. We would then scramble through the gill to get to the high moorland above for extensive panoramic views.
It were a crackin’ day for it.
All photos taken on my Fujifilm X-T2 using my Vivitar “Series 1” 28–105mm f2.8–3.8 zoom and Laowa 9mm f2.8 prime lenses. Developed in Capture One with the “Classic Chrome” Fujfilm simulation, finalised in Affinity Photo 2 for iPad,
It’d been a long time since I visited Clapham. In fact, I can recall the last time because I was still shooting with a Nikon D7000 that was nearly permanently attached to a tripod. This means the last time I was at Clapham was around 2016. Wow.
Here is something I do not remember from our last visit: a friggin’ waterfall! Turns out there’s been a lot of conservation work in recent years, some of which involved clearing the riverside bank here of snowberries, which was obscuring views of this waterfall.
The last of the year’s autumn colours in beautiful winter light.
Clapham Falls is a man-made waterfall, constructed as a three-tier drop underneath a bridge in the early 19th century by the Farrer family. They’ve long had established ties to the village and the 19th century saw a lot of landscaping and remodelling of the village.
This is something I wasn’t expecting to see in winter: flowering plants! I think this might be Mahonia japonica, which is apparently native to Taiwan. It flowers in winter through to spring.
After working our way up and through Clapdale Wood and past the famous Ingleborough Show Cave we finally arrived at the entrance to Trow Gill.
Trow Gill is an immense ravine with 200ft high cliff walls. It was once the site of a massive waterfall, much like Troller’s Gill near Appletreewick.
We scrambled up the gill to access the high moorland above. From here, looking back down, I start to imagine what the waterfall would’ve looked like and the forces involved in sculpting this ravine. Immense.
The beck which once flowed through here as a raging waterfall begins life on the eastern slopes of Ingleborough. At some point in the distant past the beck no longer reached this ravine, instead falling underground near Ingleborough down a giant cavern now known as Gaping Gill. It is technically England’s single biggest drop waterfall, even though it falls underground.
Scrambling up and out of the gill, the land begins to open up and we can start to glimpse the eastern aspect of Ingleborough.
Above us, to the north, a limestone scar is drenched in winter light whilst the sky is ominously dark and cold.
The more unfamiliar view of Ingleborough. To the left is Little Ingleborough, with the main fell to the right. Though the trail continues on towards the fells, we decided to loop back and reconnect with the Pennine Bridleway.
Zooming right in on Little Ingleborough. You can just make out the tiny figures following the trail up the fell.
Up on the moorlands above Clapham, the views massively open up. Beyond Thwaite Scar we could make out the distant yet distinct shape of Pendle Hill, all the way in East Lancashire.
Even more impressively, Pen-y-Ghent was clear as a bell and looking spectacular.
The rolling landscape of the Yorkshire Dales, interspersed with karst limestone formations such as limestone pavements, scars, ridges, and of course the distinctive isolated fells.
Back on the Penine Bridleway south to Clapham, Thwaite Scar receives some late afternoon golden light.
Before dropping down to the village, I nab one final composition of Robin Proctor’s Scar—a sheer cliff face—being bathed in golden winter light.