Norton, Little Smeaton, Kirk Smeaton, Wentbridge, Campsall, and Askern

I managed to fit in a local walk with my brother today. We caught the Pontefract bus and travelled to Norton.

There are a few nice buildings in the village.

We headed north across the fields, crossed over the River Went into North Yorkshire, got slightly lost because we were busy chatting and not concentrating on where we were going but still found the road that took us into Little Smeaton.

The local church is at Kirk Smeaton.

We walked along the northern edge of Brockadale, usually not going down close to the river. We passed through plenty of areas of open meadows with some lovely wildflowers in bloom.

Wentbridge church isn't very old, but it's lovely.

The village has historical connections with Robin Hood.

We returned to Kirk Smeaton using the footpath going alongside the southern bank of the River Went. This route isn't as interesting though, it's mainly through woodland.

We briefly ended up back at Norton, mainly going along the road, and then continued to Campsall where we visited the church.

Initially it looked like the church was closed, but as usual I wanted to walk round the back looking for different angles to take photographs and then we noticed that the side door was open and so we went inside. We were greeted by the organist who was just going to start a couple of hours of rehearsing...but he ended up talking to us for nearly half an hour, telling us all about the history of the church, the sad demise of the man who built the organ and who committed suicide because he couldn't live in an imperfect world, the legend that states the Robin Hood married Maid Marian in the church, the local connection to the Knights Templar and how the church wanted to sponsor a teenager and help her with her music studies. Unfortunately every time he meant to say 'mentor' and 'mentoring' he said 'tormentor' and 'tormenting.' Maybe God was working in mysterious ways today.

It was then only a short walk through the woods to Askern from where we caught the bus back to Doncaster.

Womersley, Little Smeaton, Kirk Smeaton, Campsall, and Askern

I caught the Pontefract bus and travelled to Womersley, about fifteen miles away from Doncaster. I walked through the village, took some photographs of the church [it was open] and then headed south to Little Smeaton, and Kirk Smeaton.

At Kirk Smeaton I took some photos of my second church of the day, only from the one angle though because a builder's van was parked in the churchyard, and another one on the road outside...and some workmen were filling in potholes near the church as well.

I left the village, still going south.

I soon turned east though and walked along a track; I then deliberately took a route going across a field that passed right next to an old windmill that's marked on the map.

My third church of the day was at Campsall, one I hadn't visited before - it's difficult to photograph though...I couldn't get far enough away to get all of the building in shot.

I found the entrance to Campsall Country Park and took the most direct route to Askern, from where I caught the bus back to Doncaster.

Upton, Badsworth, East Hardwick, Wentbridge, Kirk Smeaton, and Norton

I'm really struggling with the weather forecasts at the moment; using them to decide where and when to go for a walk. Today's forecast was for 'a bit of rain' in Bakewell in the Peak District this afternoon and 'occasional rain' for here in Doncaster. I'm not sure which would be worse though, a bit of rain or occasional rain. Whichever, I'm convinced that modern weather forecasts aren't as good or useful as they used to be in the 1970s, there's far too much superfluous information provided. Since the direction of any bad weather would be coming from the south west I assumed that it would reach the Peak District first...and so opted for a local walk. I stuck with this decision even when a few hours later the forecast had been updated to 'light showers.' As it turned out whatever phrase I preferred the forecast was very inaccurate, the rain arrived at least two hours early from a different direction, the southeast...and at times it was quite heavy with a bit of sleet.

I caught the Wakefield bus and got off at Upton and walked along the road that leads to Badsworth and then took the path that starts at the back of the water tower and goes across the fields, eventually to Badsworth.

The approach to Badsworth along a tarmac'd path which leads directly to the churchyard is lovely.

As I was walking along the bridleway heading towards East Hardwick I spotted something in a nearby field that I've not seen before - several hundred canes with something white attached to each one, neatly positioned in four or five straight lines, occupying only one specific area. I don't know what this is for.

The photograph isn't very good.

A few yards further on there was something else I hadn't seen before either - a gravestone for a road that's died.

The inscription reads, 'Here Ends Ackworth Bulls Road.'

This bridleway ended at the Doncaster road just south of East Hardwick, just before this lovely milestone: there five destinations to the north, the direction I was walking...but only Doncaster in the other direction behind me.

I ate my sandwiches in the churchyard at East Hardwick; the church is a rather plain and uninteresting Victorian building and so I didn't bother taking any photographs.

I took a muddy path across a field and then walked along a couple of different roads until I reached the footpath leading up onto Went Edge [or Went Hill.]

Although it's only about two hundred feet above sea level there are some good views from along here - it was very windy and exposed though today...especially since the rain, of whatever type, had started to fall.

As I crossed over the bridge at Wentbridge I stepped out into the middle of the road to take this photograph of the blue plaque giving details about Robin Hood.

There was a good view of the church in the distance as I entered Brockadale and followed the course of the River Went to Kirk Smeaton.

I'd had enough of the rain and the cold wind when I reached Kirk Smeaton and so I walked down the road to Norton, getting there as quickly as I could; I had about fifteen minutes to wait for the bus back to Doncaster.