Return To The Planet Of The Killer Sheep

Walking from Blockley in the Cotswolds last week, we were mobbed by a flock of sheep. I thought it might have been because it was teatime and the arrival of humans meant food to them (bringing the food, not being it!). On reflection I think they didn't like Danny's dog Suki, even though she was on a leash. See below:








Here's the first time I came across the phenomenon - 30th January 2005, returning from Rye Loaf Hill. We took a short cut, figuring that nobody would notice two specks in the distance crossing a field. Unfortunately we didn't count on getting an escort - I felt like St Francis Of Assisi!

The Bleaklow B-29

Wreck site viewed from the A57

January’s issue of Country Walking contained a feature on the wreck of the B-29 Superfortress scattered on Bleaklow in the Peak District. Coincidentally, we were going on a weekend in Buxton later that month so had an opportunity to view it ourselves.


The wreck is actually an RB-29, a reconaissance version of the aircraft. These had been surreptitiously posted to Europe in 1948 during the Berlin crisis, when the Russians had closed all land routes to the city from the West. The task of the RB-29s was to monitor Soviet troop movements, providing vital information about any possible escalation.


Nose Art

Overexposed was an aircraft of the USAF’s 16th Photographic Reconaissance Squadron, detached to RAF Scampton in Lincolnshire. It had travelled widely during its life, in 1946 it had been one of the observer aircraft on what at the time was only the third air drop of an atomic weapon (and the first test to do so), “Able”, at Bikini Atoll in the Pacific.

Captain Landon P Tanner, Pilot

On 3rd November 1948 the aircraft was tasked to visit the US airbase at Burtonwood to collect mail and pay for the small detachment at Scampton. Although not on an operational mission, all Overexposed’s crew members - rather than just the necessary flight crew - invoked the right to accompany their aircraft on the trip giving an on-board total of 13, under the command of Capt Landon P Tanner. In the Austerity Britain of 1948 home comforts would have been hard to come by at an RAF station, particularly in a backwater like rural Lincolnshire. Burtonwood, at that time Europe’s largest airbase and America’s “Gateway to Europe”, would have had numerous comissaries and other familiar facilities dear to US servicemen - truly a small piece of America in South Lancashire. Here they would be able to stock up on essentials to make their stay in wintry England more bearable

Wreck site at Higher Shelf Stones

Image produced from the Ordnance Survey Get-a-map service. Image reproduced with kind permission of Ordnance Survey and Ordnance Survey of Northern Ireland.

The flight from Scampton to Burtonwood was approximately 80 nautical miles, a flight time of around 25 minutes in an RB-29. The Pennine range of hills lay in the way, in aeronautical terms a relatively low obstacle rarely exceeding 2,000 feet in height. However the cloud base that day was below this level. For some reason at around 11.15am Overexposed flew into the ground at Higher Shelf Stones, just south of the 2,077 feet Bleaklow Hill. All 13 aboard were killed instantly

A puddle frozen solid

Quite why Tanner descended below a safe height this early is not clear. Bleaklow is around 30 nautical miles from Burtonwood and he did not need to be at 2,000 feet until 10 miles or so from his destination, another 7 minutes’ flying time away. It is unlikely that he would have been trying to descend below the cloud base, in order to correctly ascertain his position, knowing that high ground was below.
A strong headwind is one possibility. The wind that day must have had a considerable south-westerly component as the crash site is 4 miles north of the Scampton-Burtonwood direct track (though given the dead-reckoning navigation of the time this amount of error would have been within tolerances). But if in doubt as to his position there were other options, such as staying at the safe height for that sector and making a spiral descent overhead the Burtonwood airfield beacon, a procedure known as a QGH let-down.
By all accounts engine failure seems to have been discounted, so this appears to have been a case of what today is known as CFIT – Controlled Flight Into Terrain.

Arrival at Snake Pass

On our visit on 1st February it was bitterly cold with a biting easterly wind, a foretaste of the heavy snows that would fall over the country that night and cause disruption for over a week. Roadside puddles where we parked were frozen solid.
The Country Walking article implied that the wreck of Overexposed is quite remote. In fact a GPS reading from the A57 Snake pass put it at a range of only 1.25 miles, although taking a direct track would be impracticable due to terrain. The paving slabs of the Pennine Way take you to the east of the site, then a fairly distinct path takes you west north west towards the wreck. Normally this would be quite boggy but on this occasion the frozen ground made the task a lot easier.

Image produced from the Ordnance Survey Get-a-map service. Image reproduced with kind permission of Ordnance Survey and Ordnance Survey of Northern Ireland.

The first view of the wreck was from about 400 yards away, a section of starboard wing, engine mount and undercarriage. The peat hags hid the total scene until we were almost at the site. Then, climbing up onto a tufted mound, we were suddenly confronted by a mass of scattered wreckage. It is immediately clear to the visitor what a substantial aircraft this was. Many pieces of the wreckage have suffered minimal deterioration, making this appear to be a far more recent casualty than it actually is. Investigators at the time took away a few key pieces such as altimeters and propellers, and the aircraft’s numerous armaments from its five turrets were also taken away – though ammunition at the site seems to have been more difficult to retrieve. My father recalls hiking to the wreck with the Boy Scouts in 1957 and picking up numerous .5 calibre rounds.

The Pennine Way towards Bleaklow

Overexposed’s tail section survived the crash intact (see video below), but this substantial piece of the wreck is no longer there. It would have been visible for miles, and given the area’s inclusion in the Peak District National Park three years later it seems fair to assume that it was cut up and/or removed to avoid becoming an eyesore on the landscape. (The strong winds which ravage the moor could also have meant that the giant tailfin would have acted as a sail, causing the whole section to move large distances – and be a hazard to anybody in the vicinity at the time).

First view of the wreckage

Engine mount and undercarriage wheel in a wing section

Wright R-3350 Radial Engine

In 1988 students from the RAF’s Navigation School at Finningley erected a memorial to the crew here, a poignant reminder of what can happen when a navigator gets it wrong.

We stayed around 20 minutes, but the cold began to wear us down and we retreated back towards the A57. Looking back from the road, the sun was now out over Higher Shelf Stones, but it wasn't going to last for long. Large snowflakes were falling at Snake Pass, and it was with some relief that we headed away from the coming snow showers towards Glossop.

Video. The engine sound is from a real B-29...

Sunshine over Higher Shelf Stones

The Country Code

Taking only photographs and leaving only footprints since 1963


The first ever Country Code was probably devised by The Ramblers Association in the 1930s. The Ramblers ran a campaign for greater access to the countryside at this time, in particular to the high moorland areas in the north of England used for grouse shooting, as these were often privately owned and "Off-limits". It was recognised that to have any chance of success a social contract between walkers and land-owners would be required, codifying an acceptable standard of behaviour whilst on this and other land in return for access. By the time of the establishment of Britain's National Parks in the 1950s, which finally gave access to the majority of these areas, The Country Code was already familiar to many with its various dos and donts beginning to be impressed on the national consciousness.




Increased car ownership and the spread of new towns throughout what were previously rural backwaters meant that by the 1960s the countryside was coming under more pressure than ever before. The code was re-emphasised through a series of animated Public Information Films for television and the cinema, starting with When In The Country (1963). This gem used the highly stylised animation popular at the time with an airy Jazz score by The Scottmen. It's very much a period piece, particularly with its representations of contemporary road transport - E-type Jaguars driven by bright young things tearing up country lanes, whilst conventional nuclear families tootle along in a once-ubiquitous BMC saloon.




When In The Country was one of at least three films on The Country Code produced around this time by Richard Taylor Cartoons, a company specialising in short animated films for the Central Office Of Information, advertising and corporate training. Richard Taylor would go on to produce childrens programmes such as Crystal Tipps and Alistair (1969) for the BBC, and ultimately gain brief notoriety with the controversial Protect And Survive films.





Safeguard Water Supplies was another (quite possibly the third) of the Country films, produced in 1965. A black and white version (probably from a TV company archive) turned up on the original Charley Says… video, though it was undoubtedly made in colour like the first. It is very much in the mould of the first film but a lot shorter, focussing on the need to avoid polluting water sources such as streams, rivers and reservoirs- even as recently as the 1980s many rural areas often drew their water supply untreated from these. A harpsichord intro reminiscent of Bach’s Jesu flows into a flute-led Jazz score evoking a rural idyll.





The other film in the series - showing people throwing rubbish out of a camper van as it drives along a country lane - has yet to surface.





By the 1970s a more cynical era had arrived and it was down to Joe and Petunia, stars of several animated Public Information Films made between 1968 and 1973, to remind us to shut gates and take our litter home. Voiced by Peter Hawkins (aka Captain Pugwash) and Wendy Craig, the style was less informative and more shaming, asking the public if they recognised themselves in these two inconsiderate morons. Unlike the When In The Country series, which was probably not aired after the the late Sixties, Joe and Petunia proved to be far more durable. This 1971 PIF and at least one other in the series were being shown on the BBC channels (usually late at night by then) as recently as the mid-1990s.








No school trip in the late 1970s/early 1980s was complete without being handed a photocopied sheet entitled “Rugged Country Rules”. Drawn by Pippa Southwood, this was a Country Code campaign aimed at the young. As well as the usual code, this reinforced the need to go properly equipped into high country, with sections such as “What must the well-dressed Fell Walker wear?”. Much to my amazement I found a copy pinned to the notice board at a bunkhouse I stayed at recently. Though it does show its age in places – “NEVER USE A DUFFEL BAG” (that accessory no 1970s schoolboy was without), and you are left wondering “Do they still make Kagoul(e)s?” - most of it is still good sense today.





The latest campaign – now called The Countryside Code – dates from 2004 and is produced by Aaardman in the style of their Creature Comforts series. Given the popularity of this and the Wallace And Gromit series, it could eventually rival Joe And Petunia in the longevity stakes.

The Tan Hill Inn From Keld

Tuesday 30th December 2008

Leaving Keld at the start

We spent New Year in Richmond again, so had some interesting options for what would be our last walk of 2008 on the penultimate day of the year. We mulled over this in the pub the night before, looking at the OS 1:25000 spread over the table (and trying to prevent it fulfilling the function of a giant beer-mat). I felt this near-primeval urge to visit the Tan Hill Inn, Britain's highest pub and less than 30 miles away. Nobody objected, so we were on. Keld looked close enough to our objective to be a useful start point, so the next morning we piled into the Yellow Peril and drove virtually the length of Swaledale (27 miles) to get there.

Jo, Ian & Danny on the bridge over the River Swale

Keld, whilst little more than a hamlet, is located at a pivotal point in the country's footpath structure. Not only is it fairly central on the 268-mile Pennine Way, Britain's first National Trail, but it is also the exact mid-point of Alfred Wainwright's 190-mile Coast To Coast Walk, which bisects the former here. Wainwright did not enjoy the Pennine Way, and devised his own route (with its varied landscape and many places of interest along the way) as a response to what he saw as the relentless, seemingly never-ending hard slog over high, bleak moorland.

Looking back at Keld

Keld was a "Dry" village for more than 50 years. The only pub, the Cat Hole Inn, was bought and closed down by a Methodist preacher in 1954. In 2006 the Youth Hostel here closed, but fortunately the new owners turned it into a (very reasonably priced) hotel with a bar
- not only did Keld keep its overnight accomodation for trail walkers, but the long drought was finally over.

A Swaledale - in Swaledale!

Leaving Keld, the first bit of path encountered is the Pennine Way. For just 400 yards or so, crossing the River Swale, it shares a route with the Coast To Coast Walk before each path goes its own separate way. Our route would follow the Coast To Coast route to the west for a while, before taking an arc north in a 6-mile long crescent towards Tan Hill. Return would be a straight four-mile southbound yomp down the Pennine Way.

Image produced from the Ordnance Survey Get-a-map service. Image reproduced with kind permission of Ordnance Survey and Ordnance Survey of Northern Ireland.

The end of Swaledale

The ground was frozen hard again, not surprising given the -6C temperature. Nobody was complaining though, as we just sailed on over the top of the mud rather than wading through it.
Fortunately the air was dry, so it didn't seem too cold...provided you kept moving.

Spooky-looking abandoned Land Rovers

Along this way last September came Julia Bradbury. Alas not today...

Julia Bradbury was here filming the Coast To Coast Walk for the BBC last September, for a series to be shown this Spring on BBC4 (then subsequently on BBC2). This will please many businesses on the route as they can look forward to an enormous increase in trade as a result, particularly the hotels and B&Bs. It looks like the Keld Lodge may have opened at just the right time.

How Edge Scar

It's that-a-way...

Deadly ice-covered stile. Robert's Seat is in the background

Video: Leaving Keld

Lone TV aerial on Robert's Seat

Frozen mossy bog - like walking on a trampoline!

As we ascended it got noticeably colder (Shap, to the west and at a lower elevation recorded a daytime temperature of -10C that day). We were still enjoying the benefits though - a potentially very squelchy foot-wetting bog on Robert's Seat was frozen solid - well, not quite solid, it was springy, rather like walking across a trampoline. But still dry...

On Thomas Gill Hill

Stonesdale - The Pennine Way runs right to left two-thirds of the way up the hill on the other side of the valley. The Tan Hill Inn is on the horizon on the left-hand side of the picture.

We were soon able to see all the way to Tan Hill. The Inn stood on the horizon, bathed in a pool of glorious sunshine, whilst all around was fairly grey. The bleakness of the landscape in this area is remarkable, with barely a dry stone wall or farm oubuilding in sight. A warm pub is doubly attractive to a weary walker in such an environment.


Image produced from the Ordnance Survey Get-a-map service. Image reproduced with kind permission of Ordnance Survey and Ordnance Survey of Northern Ireland.

Looking back into the murk from whence we came

Almost there...

The Tan Hill Inn - at 1,732 feet Britain's highest pub.

In his Pennine Way Companion, written in 1969, Alfred Wainwright stated that "The glories of Tan Hill Inn belong to the past" and "Now the inn is quiet, left with its one remaining distinction as the highest in England". But what a distinction - and one which would eventually lead to its inclusion in a 1980 television advert for double glazing, and change the pub's fortunes dramatically...

Looking down the Keld road

Here ends the Yorkshire Dales National Park, and the county of North Yorkshire. Beyond is modern County Durham

A Hagglund BV206

One of the most amazing sights as you reach the pub is the ex-Army Hagglund parked outside. A tracked vehicle for use in arctic conditions, the pub acquired it for £8,000 at a Government surplus sale. Now in the Tan Hill Inn's corporate livery, it must be very nice to know that it can be called upon, given the severity of the winters up here.

Video: Approaching The Tan Hill Inn

Let sleeping dogs lie...

We really didn't have too long to spend at the pub as darkness would be falling from around 3.30pm (and it was already 2.30pm). Still, we decided to have a quick half. The resident dog was asleep by the fire, I took a photo and the noise of my zoom lens woke him up - after staring at me for a second he let fly barking!

Looking out of the pub through the famous Everest double-glazing

The Inn has a great character, with its old gramophones and other nick nacks plus the blues/jazz tracks playing in the background. Even mid-afternoon on a fairly nondescript day like this it was fairly busy.

Video: Inside The Tan Hill Inn

Preparing to set off, the Pennine Way snaking away into the distance.

On the Pennine Way

At 2.50pm, and with the sky already beginning to darken ominously, we set off down the Pennine Way back towards Keld. As the temperature dropped it began to get misty. A white frost covered the path and moorland vegetation.

Home in two hours

Into the mist...

Video: Heading for home

Darkness closing in with still nearly an hour to go

Descending a little all the frost disappeared, but with my knees still playing up from the Pateley Bridge trip it was impossible to go very fast and it was looking inevitable that we would arrive back at Keld in total darkness. And I hadn't brought my headtorch...

Nightfall over Keld

Fortunately in areas like this with no light pollution your eyes do adjust to the dark. It was a little difficult on occasion to see in which direction the path went after a gate or stile but we managed.

Final statistics.

Eventually we got back to the car at 5pm. 10.6 miles had taken us 5 hours, so not too bad. It's rather telling that we were only stopped for 31 minutes (it took two minutes to get a clear photo of the GPS) on the way - the cold began to bite if you weren't moving, so we kept going where possible. Job done!