We've been spending some time exploring Raincliffe Woods, which run between Throxenby Mere and Forge Valley. (My wife Maureen is pictured emerging into the sunlight from one of the paths.)
A couple of weeks ago, we followed one of the trails waymarked by the woods' friends group - at least, we started following it, but we missed one of the markers, and walked rather further than intended.
There are two walks of about three to four miles, for which the guide suggests allowing a couple of hours. We found that even with a couple of stops for a lunchtime sandwich and a chat, that's a very generous allowance.
Our latest waymarked walked was a figure-of-eight, which included a couple of steep climbs, including the one from Green Gate car park to the rim of Forge Valley.
Our only concern when we're out in this area stems from the risk of leaving our car unattended in a lonely car park, but there's no easy solution.
During the first mile or so, we encountered quite a few dog walkers, but from that point, we had the woods to ourselves.
It's a marvellous time of year to be in the woodland. Two months ago, we were walking in Canadian forest, following local advice to whistle, sing or chat loudly, to warn any hungry bears of our presence. In Raincliffe, however, rustling in the undergrowth was a cause for interest, rather than alarm, but we never did spot any of many creatures we disturbed.
Had these woods been on my doorstep when I was a boy, I would have spent much of the school summer holidays there, building dens, and playing adventurous games with friends. I would have been nagging my parents constantly until three or four of us were given permission to sleep out, under a home-made shelter.
What on earth do youngsters do nowadays to let off energy and develop their senses of adventure and imagination?
In any event, Raincliffe Woods will certainly be on my schedule for future walks.
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