![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Puppy Doggy, Always Nice!
Apr. 22nd, 2018 11:11 pmThis cold is still lingering, which is becoming somewhat annoying considering I have now had it for the best part of two weeks. However, I couldn't really let this bother me this weekend as it was time for our regular monthly LeedsFurs meet.
I was only expecting an attendance of around sixty as the week began, which increased to seventy when a few people I wasn't expecting confirmed they would be there. Certainly as we sat on the bus heading into town on what was a wonderfully sunny Spring day, I wasn't expecting our first 100+ meet, with 113 attendees and 32 fursuiters descending on the bar. The positive feedback we have received has been very uplifting while the only negative I saw was the slow service of the food, which I think was related to how many of us there were. We ordered chips about forty-five minutes ahead of the fursuit walk starting and they hadn't arrived by the time we had to leave, so we had to ask them to delay the order. Aside from this though, everyone loved the bar and the new Fursuit Changing Area proved to be particularly popular.
It was great seeing a number of people we hadn't seen for a while, including Danza, Lozbunneh, Reskell, Frost and Adam Husky, while Cub brought her two sons, who it was great to meet. The walk went well, with Seadragom thoughtfully going to get water for the suiters as the mercury was touching twenty degrees. We did have an unfortunate encounter with some aggressive Christian street preachers, but this was headed off by Homohound and Daddyderg proposing in front of the main fursuit photograph. Our first proposal, our biggest meet and everyone having a great time. It was very much the perfect day.
We headed off around 6pm with Stray and Patter in tow, heading down to Shuffledog to grab some food. We hadn't really eaten much during the day and had found a sessionable red ale called 'Old Sids' which we had a fair few of at the meet, meaning we were a little wibbly. Still, we managed to try a few more of The Bruery showcase, ones we had missed when it launched a fortnight ago, and we got some nice pizza too. Stray and I even sang the 1812 Overture with wag sounds and explosions. It was great catching up with two of my longest and closest friends, and it brought the day to a nice close. Stray headed off in a taxi about 8:30pm before Patter, Wolfie and I headed back to the station. Upon seeing Patter's train be another forty minutes, we had a swift half (Motorhead have a beer out apparently) in The Brewery Tap before bidding him goodbye, with Wolfie and I dropping in on Rudy's for a nightcap in Pudsey before heading off to bed.
The weather on Sunday was more inclement, with rain in the morning and a rather cold breeze, but with it drying out in the early afternoon, Wolfie and I decided to make the trip to Bolton Abbey, a place we had wanted to visit for a while. We parked at The Riverside car park and made the quite lengthy journey along the River Wharfe to the Priory, which was undoubtedly the highlight of the visit. Built in the twelfth century and dissolved in the sixteenth, the most interesting aspect of the building was that some of it is still in use as a rather impressive parish church. Indeed, the vibrant nineteenth century stained glass windows on the south side really added gravitas to the place, as did the murals on the eastern wall, beyond which the ruins of the abbey still stand. Walking around the building was fascinating as, it being an operational church, you got a sense of what it would have been like for the monks. The signage was very good pinpointing what was where, allowing you to picture the scale of the complex, while the modern graves again highlighted that the site is still operational.
Before we had reached the abbey, we saw the Cavendish Memorial Fountain, which was erected in 1886 in memory of to Lord Frederick Cavendish following his murder in Phoenix Park by the Irish National Invincibles in May 1882. The fountain is over 12m high and made from local stone in the form of ashlar blocks. It is hexagonal in shape, with gargoyles poking out from each corner, above which reads the inscription "This fountain was erected by electors of the West Riding as a tribute to his memory, Frederick Charles Cavendish Born November XXX. MDCCCXXXVI. Died May VI. MDCCCLXXXII". It is quite an impressive structure and one from which there is a fantastic view of the abbey and the river valley.
After our trip to the abbey, we stopped for a while in the village of Bolton, which seems to consist of two rival tea shoppes, a village shop and a small church, and little else. I did wonder how much rivalry there is between the two eateries, with me seeing them throwing teacakes at each other over the petite village green. Having had no lunch, we decided to stop off at one and grab a fruit cake with some delicious Wensleydale cheese, along with a pot of Yorkshire's finest tea. It was a nice break to the day and soon we were back outside, using the unique stepping stones to cross from one side of the River Wharfe to the other. We were behind a family with two young kids, with the boy giving it typical gusto and the girl being more uncertain. Watching the water flow around the bricks, making unique ripple patterns in the water, was a little disconcerting when trying to cross and this wasn't aided by the gaps between the stones not being of equal distance. Still, we crossed without falling in, and the view from the middle of the river back towards the abbey was quite stunning.
The rest of the afternoon was largely walking. We walked along the alternate river bank towards Cavendish Bridge, where we would cross back over the river to reach our car. Here there is a cafe called the Cavendish Pavilion which is bedecked very much like a cricketing venue. It's views over the river were good and even though it was spitting with rain, we decided to press on. We were thinking about going to the Valley of Desolation (Twinned with the Pit of Misery - dilly dilly!) but with time ticking, we decided to skip here and Strid Wood and head up to the most northerly car park to check out the Aqueduct and Barden Bridge. The Cumberland Trail, down which you walk from Strid Car Park to get to the river, turned out to be somewhat labrynthine and we ended up realising there was a shortcut down a road we should have just used. The Cumberland Trail was through some of the forest though, making us feel that we hadn't missed out on seeing the wood after all, while the signs telling us all the different trees were interesting enough.
We eventually found the river and started to walk along its banks, first spotting the aqueduct which didn't look much like an aqueduct to me. For a start, it didn't appear to be carrying water over the river and the steepness of the entry points on either side suggested that water would not be able to flow across it. It was only on the way back we noticed the pipework which enabled it to be called an aqueduct. As we pressed on, we spotted the imposing Barden Tower and Priest House looming ominously on the hill overlooking Barden Bridge, a structure not dissimilar to the bridge in Yarm that carries cars over the River Tees. Still, it was a nice walk out there I suppose and a good opportunity to chat to my beloved Wolfie, and to get exercise of course.
Doubling back and walking alongside the other river bank, we got back to the car shortly before 5pm and decided to check out the steam railway whose sign we saw as we drove up the main road towards the abbey. We turned out to be in luck as the last service of the day was departing at 5:05pm and we were allowed to purchase a platform ticket, enabling us to see the steam loco off. It was the Cumbria, built in Hunslet in 1953, and it was belching a lot of black smoke into the sky. The prevailing wind meant that Wolfie and I were covered in it, particularly as it laboured towards motion, yearning and pumping huge black clouds into the air. There is a romanticism associated with steam that you don't get with more modern locomotives and it was great seeing the driver and fireman, whose face was as black as soot, prepping the engine before it left. The branch line is only a small one, but it was great to see, while they are clearly expanding too. There were a number of old diesel locomotives in the yard and they're trying to raise money to restore a 1944 old coal engine too. The yard is bedecked like an old station and it was a very pleasant place to be, a fitting end to a remarkable weekend.
I was only expecting an attendance of around sixty as the week began, which increased to seventy when a few people I wasn't expecting confirmed they would be there. Certainly as we sat on the bus heading into town on what was a wonderfully sunny Spring day, I wasn't expecting our first 100+ meet, with 113 attendees and 32 fursuiters descending on the bar. The positive feedback we have received has been very uplifting while the only negative I saw was the slow service of the food, which I think was related to how many of us there were. We ordered chips about forty-five minutes ahead of the fursuit walk starting and they hadn't arrived by the time we had to leave, so we had to ask them to delay the order. Aside from this though, everyone loved the bar and the new Fursuit Changing Area proved to be particularly popular.
It was great seeing a number of people we hadn't seen for a while, including Danza, Lozbunneh, Reskell, Frost and Adam Husky, while Cub brought her two sons, who it was great to meet. The walk went well, with Seadragom thoughtfully going to get water for the suiters as the mercury was touching twenty degrees. We did have an unfortunate encounter with some aggressive Christian street preachers, but this was headed off by Homohound and Daddyderg proposing in front of the main fursuit photograph. Our first proposal, our biggest meet and everyone having a great time. It was very much the perfect day.
We headed off around 6pm with Stray and Patter in tow, heading down to Shuffledog to grab some food. We hadn't really eaten much during the day and had found a sessionable red ale called 'Old Sids' which we had a fair few of at the meet, meaning we were a little wibbly. Still, we managed to try a few more of The Bruery showcase, ones we had missed when it launched a fortnight ago, and we got some nice pizza too. Stray and I even sang the 1812 Overture with wag sounds and explosions. It was great catching up with two of my longest and closest friends, and it brought the day to a nice close. Stray headed off in a taxi about 8:30pm before Patter, Wolfie and I headed back to the station. Upon seeing Patter's train be another forty minutes, we had a swift half (Motorhead have a beer out apparently) in The Brewery Tap before bidding him goodbye, with Wolfie and I dropping in on Rudy's for a nightcap in Pudsey before heading off to bed.
The weather on Sunday was more inclement, with rain in the morning and a rather cold breeze, but with it drying out in the early afternoon, Wolfie and I decided to make the trip to Bolton Abbey, a place we had wanted to visit for a while. We parked at The Riverside car park and made the quite lengthy journey along the River Wharfe to the Priory, which was undoubtedly the highlight of the visit. Built in the twelfth century and dissolved in the sixteenth, the most interesting aspect of the building was that some of it is still in use as a rather impressive parish church. Indeed, the vibrant nineteenth century stained glass windows on the south side really added gravitas to the place, as did the murals on the eastern wall, beyond which the ruins of the abbey still stand. Walking around the building was fascinating as, it being an operational church, you got a sense of what it would have been like for the monks. The signage was very good pinpointing what was where, allowing you to picture the scale of the complex, while the modern graves again highlighted that the site is still operational.
Before we had reached the abbey, we saw the Cavendish Memorial Fountain, which was erected in 1886 in memory of to Lord Frederick Cavendish following his murder in Phoenix Park by the Irish National Invincibles in May 1882. The fountain is over 12m high and made from local stone in the form of ashlar blocks. It is hexagonal in shape, with gargoyles poking out from each corner, above which reads the inscription "This fountain was erected by electors of the West Riding as a tribute to his memory, Frederick Charles Cavendish Born November XXX. MDCCCXXXVI. Died May VI. MDCCCLXXXII". It is quite an impressive structure and one from which there is a fantastic view of the abbey and the river valley.
After our trip to the abbey, we stopped for a while in the village of Bolton, which seems to consist of two rival tea shoppes, a village shop and a small church, and little else. I did wonder how much rivalry there is between the two eateries, with me seeing them throwing teacakes at each other over the petite village green. Having had no lunch, we decided to stop off at one and grab a fruit cake with some delicious Wensleydale cheese, along with a pot of Yorkshire's finest tea. It was a nice break to the day and soon we were back outside, using the unique stepping stones to cross from one side of the River Wharfe to the other. We were behind a family with two young kids, with the boy giving it typical gusto and the girl being more uncertain. Watching the water flow around the bricks, making unique ripple patterns in the water, was a little disconcerting when trying to cross and this wasn't aided by the gaps between the stones not being of equal distance. Still, we crossed without falling in, and the view from the middle of the river back towards the abbey was quite stunning.
The rest of the afternoon was largely walking. We walked along the alternate river bank towards Cavendish Bridge, where we would cross back over the river to reach our car. Here there is a cafe called the Cavendish Pavilion which is bedecked very much like a cricketing venue. It's views over the river were good and even though it was spitting with rain, we decided to press on. We were thinking about going to the Valley of Desolation (Twinned with the Pit of Misery - dilly dilly!) but with time ticking, we decided to skip here and Strid Wood and head up to the most northerly car park to check out the Aqueduct and Barden Bridge. The Cumberland Trail, down which you walk from Strid Car Park to get to the river, turned out to be somewhat labrynthine and we ended up realising there was a shortcut down a road we should have just used. The Cumberland Trail was through some of the forest though, making us feel that we hadn't missed out on seeing the wood after all, while the signs telling us all the different trees were interesting enough.
We eventually found the river and started to walk along its banks, first spotting the aqueduct which didn't look much like an aqueduct to me. For a start, it didn't appear to be carrying water over the river and the steepness of the entry points on either side suggested that water would not be able to flow across it. It was only on the way back we noticed the pipework which enabled it to be called an aqueduct. As we pressed on, we spotted the imposing Barden Tower and Priest House looming ominously on the hill overlooking Barden Bridge, a structure not dissimilar to the bridge in Yarm that carries cars over the River Tees. Still, it was a nice walk out there I suppose and a good opportunity to chat to my beloved Wolfie, and to get exercise of course.
Doubling back and walking alongside the other river bank, we got back to the car shortly before 5pm and decided to check out the steam railway whose sign we saw as we drove up the main road towards the abbey. We turned out to be in luck as the last service of the day was departing at 5:05pm and we were allowed to purchase a platform ticket, enabling us to see the steam loco off. It was the Cumbria, built in Hunslet in 1953, and it was belching a lot of black smoke into the sky. The prevailing wind meant that Wolfie and I were covered in it, particularly as it laboured towards motion, yearning and pumping huge black clouds into the air. There is a romanticism associated with steam that you don't get with more modern locomotives and it was great seeing the driver and fireman, whose face was as black as soot, prepping the engine before it left. The branch line is only a small one, but it was great to see, while they are clearly expanding too. There were a number of old diesel locomotives in the yard and they're trying to raise money to restore a 1944 old coal engine too. The yard is bedecked like an old station and it was a very pleasant place to be, a fitting end to a remarkable weekend.
