Doncaster Ramblers: A local walk from Askern Lake

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A casual look though our photo album (see below) and it’s easy to spot the regular local walking enthusiasts.

What do we all get out of it?

Somewhere different to walk each week, lively conversation, and a couple of hours of friendship, fresh air and exercise. so why not join us on our next outing?

Today nine of us gathered by Askern Lake for a six mile jaunt around the farms and field edges surrounding the hamlet of Haywood.

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A local rambleA local ramble
A local ramble

A central feature of todays outing is the number of level crossings passed, the first one, not ten minutes after setting off.

Having passed the lake and continuing to the upper left corner of the playing field

we cross with care the first track.

For me one of the joys of countryside rambling is the shifting terrain, one moment you’re walking through a tunnel of tree branches, ducking and diving and the next you emerge into the grandeur of an open field.

Always plenty to see on the journeyAlways plenty to see on the journey
Always plenty to see on the journey

Carrying on a couple of nosy alpaca’s greeted us with their friendly faces, as they watched us continue to our second level crossing near Mill Dike.

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Turning right and heading south towards Wrancarr Mill home of the pedigree British Blonde cattle we parked ourselves at the farm gate for elevenses.

After crossing Wrancarr Lane we continued along a wide track southwest which slowly got narrower, and more uneven under foot till eventually we were forced to stop at our third level crossing.

This one, one of about 1,500 is manned and needs to be opened by hand, and can

only be opened if a train is more than five miles away!

Luckily for us nothing was coming so after ringing the bell, the signalman came and let us pass.

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Curious too on one side of the track it was mud and ruts on the other tarmac.

As often on a ramblers walk, a little road walking is necessary, and today’s county lanes where quiet and calm.

Foraging has been known and blackberries are often picked, but today we struck lucky as a pale of cooking apples had been left at the roadside.

Jade wasted no time in taking a few explaining she would use them in an oriental delicacy.

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The tarmac did not last and we were soon back among the trees, with solid mud under feet.

The route was now north passing Rushy Moor

House where once a rust old Escort was buried amongst the weeds.

Carrying on along the field edge to a T junction we turned left towards our final level crossing, up and over and along to an iron bridge.

Crossing it then up some iron steps we’re on the last leg, crossing this derelict waste land, wondering what industry once stood here we’re back at the playing fields the lake and home, well the cars anyway.

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