LEAVING the small market town of Leyburn on a freezing cold day at the end of November, I descended the hill towards the River Ure. I was heading for the once great town of Wensley. As I walked I crunched frozen grass underfoot.

The forecast promised sun. And for most of the day the sun followed my progress all the way, peeping over the top of Penhill. The great barrow shape of Penhill (514m) and its beacon dominated my view to the south most of the way.

Incidentally, I had to start from Leyburn as the “Little White Bus” (number 156), that runs down the valley from Hawes, does not go to Middleham, where I ended day four of my walk last month.

Leyburn is now the gateway to this dale, but Wensley was the original contender, and of course the dale still bears its name. But disaster struck Wensley in 1563 when its population was decimated by the plague. Some of its former glory is still evident in the size and beauty of its church, Holy Trinity, that dates from the 13th century.

Entering the church I admired the 14th century wall paintings, the ancient wooden alms box and the wonderful carvings of grotesque heads in the chancel. But the piece de resistance was the Flemish brass of Sir Simon de Wensley in the sanctuary floor. Sir Simon was a member of the Scrope family and rector of this church in 1394.

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Penhill: "The great barrow shape of Penhill dominated my view..." Photo Bob Adams

The gates of Wensley Hall beckoned and I followed the driveway for nearly a mile past the hall and then turned south to cross Lords Bridge over the Ure. Lords Bridge was built in 1733 by the Duke of Bolton. It has two pillars at each end and slopes upwards across the river. Glancing back there is a good view of the hall.

For the rest of the day my route followed the south bank of the Ure and what a great walk it turned out to be. I traversed curious hillocks and frozen ponds, with Bolton Castle, ever present, to the north. Bolton Castle is a well preserved medieval castle still owned by the Scropes of Bolton. Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned there for six months from 1568.

Perhaps imprisoned is the wrong word to describe her stay there as she was accompanied by scores of knights and retainers and had the freedom to hunt. The following year she was moved south to more secure accommodation.

The hillocks in this area are very picturesque and I would be interested to discover how they were formed. They do not appear to be glacial moraines or drumlins and I wondered if they had been formed by the river, or perhaps by mine workings.

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Ponds and hillocks: are they glacial, or mine workings? Photo Bob Adams

The nearby village of West Witton was a mining village but its mines were situated further up the slopes of Penhill, to the south.

The sun projected low through the trees and striped the frost as it moved along its short winter’s day journey. Some of the patches of frost and ice were destined not to melt today.

As I summited one of the hillocks, a small group of sheep scattered on the other side. Near the top of one I spotted bracket fungi growing in lines like railway tracks.

After about three miles I came to Redmire Force. These falls are not as well known as Aysgarth Falls, being less accessible, but are certainly worth a visit. I spent a while admiring them from the south bank.

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Redmire Force. Photo: Bob Adams

Then it was onwards to reach the ultimate goal of the day, Aysgarth Falls. Just before getting there I passed a row of stepping-stones across the river where Stony Stoop Lane crosses on its way to Bolton Castle.

Then I settled down on the top of a hillock to eat my sandwiches just within earshot of the Lower Falls. The last rays of the sun outlined a row of sheep as they ambled up the slope.

Aysgarth Falls are best viewed from the other side of the river, as the path I followed took a route away towards St Andrews Church.

But I did get a good view of the Lower Falls and later admired the Upper Falls from the road bridge. There is a cafe there, next to the old mill, originally a cotton mill, then a yarn mill and finally a corn mill until it closed in 1958. The National Park Information Centre is just up the hill (closed during the week in winter months).

The final part of my walk was up the same hill to the village of Aysgarth. The Little White Bus was due at 3pm. I got there with a few minutes to spare. Just as well, as it gave me time to visit the Aysgarth Edwardian Rock Garden. This unusual attraction was commissioned by Frank Sayer-Graham in 1906 and stocked by Alpine specialists of the day. It contains several grottoes, narrow passageways and a small pond.

The bus arrived early and the driver was surprised to see someone actually waiting to get on. He said that this was a rare event in Aysgarth. Use it or lose it was the thought on my mind as I boarded my personal taxi-bus to whisk me back to Leyburn in just 25 minutes.