A walk through the woods where a clog-making industry once thrived

On a beautiful September day in warm sunshine, we entered the coolness of the wood near Beggar's Bridge at Glaisdale. This is a wonderfully graceful structure re-built in 1619 by Tom Ferris as a memorial to his wife and we took the well-used path beneath the quiet trees.

Much of the woodland path is flagged with ancient stones, relics of a monks' trod along the floor of this scenic dale, and it climbs and twists through this lovely stretch of countryside.

For me, there was much nostalgia in our trip because, as a small child, this was my playground. With my golden retriever dog as a companion, I would explore that woodland and play there for hours and hours, seeking the legendary Robin Hood's Cave, making wishes on the wishing stone, sliding down a nearby rock where children still slide down, and seeking woodpeckers, nuthatches and other birds, including herons which graced some of the fish ponds deep among the trees.

What I did not realise as a child, however, is that Arncliffe Wood was once part of Eskdale's clog-making industry. Clogs were made in other parts of the dale, including Littlebeck, but it seems Arncliffe Wood produced a large quantity which were transported to the West Riding and Lancashire for sale.

It seems that clog-making in Arncliffe Wood ended around the time of the First World War, but the wood produced ideal trees for making the soles. These were fashioned either from alders, elms, beech or sycamores, although other timbers were used, such as silver birch.

I believe it was a family industry with a father and his sons working together and even camping in the woods when the occasion demanded.

The men cut the wood and shaped the soles with special tools. At first, a rough shape was created and this was then left to dry for about six months. These rough soles were piled in conical heaps and arranged so that the air could filter to every single piece.

Once the sole was dry, it was smoothed and finished, then the leather uppers were added. Finally, irons were fastened to the soles - these were not unlike miniature horseshoes.

When clogs were popular as footwear, people kept a best pair for Sundays and used their others for daily work.

I can recall a farm labourer I knew as a child, and he always wore clogs at work, claiming they were extremely comfortable and very waterproof, one of their assets being that they didn't slip on slippery stones!

His arrival in the cow byre where I would sometimes help with the milking was instantly recognisable as his clog irons clipped upon the hard surface.

While Arncliffe Wood was producing its share of clogs, however, there was a similar industry further down the dale at Littlebeck.

This is a beautiful hamlet not far from Sleights and in a woodland above the village, in an area known as Maybeck, there used to be a clog-maker.

He lived in a nearby cottage which had his workshop attached and he mainly used elm trees for his clog soles. I believe he continued with his profession until the mid-Twenties, although I have no firm dates.

Although clog-making died out in Eskdale about that time, this distinctive footwear continued to be worn by country people as they obtained supplies from elsewhere.

Our walk through the wood took us into Egton Bridge, where we visited the spectacular Catholic church, climbed the hill for a look at the Mass House which has such historic associations with the martyr Nicholas Postgate, and then returned to Glaisdale via a footpath across some fields.

It was that footpath across the fields which I used as a child to walk the two miles or so from Glaisdale to Egton Bridge to attend school every day - and then walk back again. But that was a very long time ago!

Some of my recent walks have reminded me of the terrible toll of animal life upon our roads.

In recent days, the road casualties along my travels have included grey squirrels, rats, voles, rabbits, a stoat, a cat, birds of various kinds but pheasants especially, badgers and, of course, moorland sheep.

If my local casualties are multiplied across the nation, then it means a huge volume of wildlife, and some domestic animals, are being slaughtered daily by motor vehicles.

As accidents involving wild creatures do not have to be reported, either to the police or one's insurance company, precise figures are impossible to obtain.

I have no idea how many wild creatures are killed each day on our roads, and I have a much more vague idea just what the total must be in an entire year.

With that in mind, it was timely to receive a note from the National Federation of Badger Groups, although their prime concern in this particular note is the new A6 bypass in Northamptonshire.

Despite attempts to protect the badgers which cross the road, a badger was killed within two weeks of the road opening because, it seems, the necessary protective fences had not been erected as promised and badgers were therefore not using their specially constructed tunnels to reach the other side of the highway.

Figures given in the news release indicate that 2,614 badgers were known to have been killed by traffic between 1990 and 2002, but the information does not make clear whether this is only within the county of Northamptonshire or across the entire country.

So far as my own locality is concerned, I have seen two dead badgers this year. Both had been killed by motor vehicles and one was within a few hundred yards of the other, albeit not using the same crossing point.

Badgers tend to use the same route each time for their outings, often to visit their favourite drinking place, and they also move at night under cover of darkness.

One snag is that they move rather slowly and can't avoid an oncoming vehicle with the same dexterity as a fox. In places where they cross busy roads, speeding motorists stand little chance of avoiding these delightful creatures, but I would imagine that a collision with a heavy badger could cause significant damage to a car's bodywork.

That is one very good incentive for driving carefully, not only along country lanes, but along other roads used by this animal, which has been called "our most ancient of Britons." For this reason, if for no other, the badger deserves our respect.

My above reference to pheasants as road casualties reminds me that my walk in Eskdale revealed some curious pheasants which were living in the wild. They were completely black, although one or two had very large and distinctive white patches on their necks. In all, I estimate we spotted about a dozen of them during a trek of about a mile. Nearby, however, we also spotted some rearing pens, so it was possible the local estate was breeding these birds.

From time to time in different parts of the country, I have noticed almost totally black pheasants and some which were a very deep bottle green, but these were a very sooty black with that odd and very large white neck marking. They also looked smaller than conventional pheasants.

Pheasants are not native to our country and were introduced during the Middle Ages. Their natural homeland is China and parts of Asia, but they are now very widespread in this country, chiefly due to their popularity as a game bird.

They are also popular in parks, gardens and large estates as ornamental birds. There are many very spectacular varieties, all with those distinctive long tail feathers.

These spectacular, colourful and exotic species have complemented those which live in the wild. Although wonderful specimens like the golden pheasant, the silver pheasant, Lady Adherts's pheasant and others were brought to Britain to beautify our parks and estates, many escaped and began to breed in the wild.

Indeed, some authorities believe that there are now wild examples of all the ornamental pheasants which were brought here. That would explain all those fascinatingly different pheasants which grace our countryside walks.