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Saunterings: Walking in North-West England
Saunterings is a set of reflections based upon walks around the counties of Cumbria, Lancashire and
North Yorkshire in North-West England
(as defined in the Preamble).
Here is a list of all Saunterings so far.
If you'd like to give a comment, correction or update (all are very welcome) or to
be notified by email when a new item is posted - please send an email to johnselfdrakkar@gmail.com.
217. The Lambrigg and Killington Turbines: Why Bother?
Nobody notices Lambrigg Fell although thousands pass it every day. Everybody travelling
on the M6 past the Kendal-Sedbergh junction (Junction 37) notices the Lambrigg wind
turbines – they are right by the motorway – but not the fell they stand upon. This
is not really surprising as it is a sprawling region of sheep fields and moorland with
no distinctive features, apart from the wind turbines, of course.
Nevertheless, Lambrigg Fell attracts a fair number of walkers. They park in a
lay-by at the motorway junction, walk purposefully up to Lambrigg Fell’s highest point
(340 metres, but only 90 metres or so up from the road), and then straight back to
the car – a 40-minute walk. Mission accomplished, they drive off. They are Marilyn-baggers,
that is, people who aim to walk up all 174 English Marilyns, that is, hills with a
prominence of over 150 metres.
It is somewhat surprising that such a modest fell should be a member of this
exclusive set but its prominence does at least promise a good view from the top,
so I set off, walking up by the wind turbines. Although the area is marked on the map
as open access a notice at the gate says that permission must be obtained to enter the
wind-farm. The path
rose past three of the five wind turbines which have been a familiar sight from the
M6 since 2000. They have now reached the end of their planned life-span but they are
apparently in such good condition that permission has been sought to extend their life,
as they are, for a further ten years.
I had set off from home in sunshine, driven through low cloud, and arrived in
sunshine – but there was still low cloud drifting around. But not over the Howgills,
the western aspect of which presented an excellent panorama from the top of Lambrigg
Fell. However, the view westward to the Lake District, which I’m sure on a clear day
would be equally excellent, was limited by the patches of low cloud.
The Howgills from Lambrigg Fell
I dropped down westwards to a bridleway. This secluded terrain of rough heather seems
well used by horses and cattle, creating a great number of indistinct paths, all of
which except one are a distraction. I eventually found my way back to the A684 and
crossed it to walk past Roan Edge Quarry. I had no idea that a quarry of such extent
lay hidden from view on this fell – hidden, that is, from
everyone except walkers, like
me, on the long path south. The quarry supplies aggregate, whatever that is.
Roan Edge Quarry (the left-hand photo has the five Lambrigg wind turbines in the
distance)
Killington Reservoir came into view, on the other side of the M6. However, low cloud was
wafting over the hills and, sure enough, it soon came to engulf me. Visibility was down
to about 50 metres but at least the path was straightforward.
I walked on, seeing and hearing little. At one point I could just
make out two heads in the mist ahead – but couldn’t make out what of. They probably had
a similar experience of me. Then they turned and lolloped off – deer.
Killington Reservoir
Crossing the M6, I walked along Reservoir Road but this was a disappointment because it
was a good mile before I had a sight of Killington Reservoir and even then the cloud was
so low that I could hardly see the service station across the other side. I could see
the green banks of the back of the dams holding the reservoir in place but I had rather
hoped to see signs of the Hydroelectric Scheme.
Killington Reservoir was constructed to provide a reliable supply of water for the
Lancaster Canal. As such, the reservoir obviously has an outlet pipe. The
Killington Hydroelectric Scheme
involved installing a 30kw turbine within the existing structure. It began operating in 2017.
The cost is low (£280,000), the outflow is unaffected, the installation is unobtrusive, and
there is no impact on the reservoir itself. The energy output is also relatively low – but
then if this simple scheme is effective why cannot there be a programme to install similar
turbines in all the thousands of other reservoirs with outlet pipes (that
is, nearly all of them, since most were built to supply power to mill factories or to provide
drinking water)?
Killington Reservoir (the Lambrigg wind turbines are on
the hill in the distance - you may be able to make out the base of one of them)
The turbines at Lambrigg and Killington make only a small contribution to the effort to generate
green energy, compared to all the turbines in the Irish Sea and schemes such as the Morecambe
Bay barrier, if it were to exist (Sauntering 214). Is all the hassle of
gathering a local team of enthusiasts,
getting planning permission, ensuring maintenance, and so on
for these small, one-off projects worth it? Should we be bolder? Or is it essential that we
generate whatever sustainable energy we can, however small an amount?
Why should we bother anyway now that the leader of the Free World (as was) has
decreed that climate change is a hoax and that wind turbines cause cancer and drive whales
batty? Or, if we are sure that climate change is happening, should we redouble our efforts
if the largest polluter per capita isn’t going to help?
I have promised to keep politics out of these missives (although it is not always
easy as many of the issues that arise are ultimately
political matters). So here’s a short fable instead:
Once upon a time a young man was involved in
organising a series of international conferences. Everyone took the ‘international’
seriously. For example, they ensured that committee members and key speakers were shared around the globe.
In due course it was the turn of the United States
to host the conference. They decided that all committee members and all key speakers
would be American (that is, United States of American)
and that the conference would focus on the problems of American education.
They changed the name of the conference to refer to the host institution.
When others pointed out that this was hardly ‘international’
the Americans were puzzled. They just wanted the best people at the conference and they
were obviously American. Why shouldn’t an American conference focus on its own
problems? Anyway, others were not excluded – they should feel honoured (or honored) to be allowed to attend.
It was not clear whether the Americans believed
what they said. Perhaps they just thought it wise to go along with the plan because it
was good for their CVs. Perhaps the chair of the committee might dispense in their
direction some of the $30 million grant he had just received. The chair was a brash,
domineering figure that it might be best not to annoy.
If the American public had heard that this group
of learned people, trained in rational thinking, had such an attitude then they would
have thought nothing of it. They knew that America was No 1 in everything. They’d say
that an overlord with American interests at heart was just what the conference, and the
nation, needed.
Our young man was intrigued by the conference
overlord, a colourful, charismatic character. He went to hear him give a talk in
California. Some time later he went to hear him again in Birmingham. It was exactly
the same talk. Even the ad-libs were the same. He was no longer an academic but a
showman who travelled the world with his act. Members of his audience were entertained
and thrilled to be in the presence of the great man.
The great man later moved to Trump University,
an institution that was forced to close in 2011 after multiple lawsuits, and
continued to be supportive of his friend Jeffrey Epstein after his conviction
for sex offences in 2008.
Our no-longer-young man was not surprised
when, thirty years after the conference coup, Americans acquired a brash overlord
of their own, a man who fitted their image of themselves, masters of the universe.
His team were concerned for their careers and their money. His followers were entertained.
The overlord promised to serve his people. He did indeed serve them right.
And they didn't say 'thank you' even once.
Date: February 28th 2025
Start: SD594932, A684 lay-by (Map: OL7)
Route: W along road, N on wind farm path, NW over moor – Lambrigg
Fell – W – bridleway – S, SE, S – A684 – E, SW – Fairthorns Road – E, S, W, E – Reservoir
Road – NE – Old Scotch Road – N – A684 – NW – lay-by
Distance: 9 miles; Ascent: 150 metres
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© John Self, Drakkar Press, 2018-
Top photo: Rainbow over Kisdon in Swaledale;
Bottom photo: Ullswater