The bridge

Between 1992 and 1997, we lived in the Home Farmhouse on Underley Estate. It was far more run down back then but we loved it. Amongst its many attractions, there were the strawberry fields and playground - now sadly gone - the old buildings full of cows and sheep, and the bridge over the Lune.

It's the only bridge over the river between Devil's Bridge at Kirkby Lonsdale and Middleton, six or so miles up the valley. We would take the girls there to play on the stony beach by the river and it also meant I could do runs that incorporated Barbon Beck and the Fell. 

Unfortunately, the bridge is private property and once we'd moved to Barbon, I could no longer use the bridge, although my surprisingly anarchic dentist once told me that he runs over there without permission. I don't know what it is with me; I'm quite happy to break rules where I think they are nonsensical but I guess have a respect for property. I'd be a rubbish communist. 

On Tuesday, on the sponsored walk, we went over the bridge and I guess that was the first time I'd crossed it for twenty years. I drove down there on my way to work, this morning, just to take a look and see whether, in my heart, I could bring myself to trespass. But the answer is no. (This afternoon, though, I wrote to the estate agents, asking for permission.)

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