Bracken bashing at Old Spring Wood: 24-06-2014

The b…… season is definitely upon us.  The blooming balsam has been put on the back burner and the beating of beastly bracken has taken its place.  Armed with batons of hazel seven barmy volunteers and Paul entered Old Spring Wood in trepidation of what was to besiege us. 

The newcomers to bracken bashing were given a short introduction on the best way to tackle the brute. “Bruise but don’t break the stems.  Bracken is branched; ferns are feathery and should be treated with care.”   

Graham practises his bashing skills

 but Anita remains cheery.

The early part of the morning was fairly promising as many years of battering had banished the brute from large areas of the woodland which has now been replaced by beautiful ferns, blossoming foxgloves and berry laden bilberries.  

Foxgloves make a come back

The dream was soon broken by a bewildering barrier of brazen bracken rearing its ugly head. At this point an essential coffee break was declared.  

Anita starting to wish she had stayed at home.

Bracken, bracken everywhere .....

Bolstered with beautiful birthday cake (thanks Ros K.), with bated breath we boldly went forth to beset, bludgeon and beat the beast into submission. 

Meanwhile, three men had marched up to the top of hill to check on the trees of the newish woodland and then marched down again, had lunch and then marched up once more.  I believe it is thought that the trees are now big enough to look after themselves and shouldn’t need any more TLC.

Dave was particularly pleased with his efforts to sort out this tree.

Colin proudly surveys his better protected sapling.

  
By 2.30pm the bracken bashing bunch who were blistered, beat, bleary-eyed and bored battled their weary way back to base and home.

Anita

Return to Gate Bridge Watermill, Galphay: 17-06-2014

10 volunteers and leader Paul met at Gate Bridge Watermill for a second week of pulling balsam in a most beautiful location near Galphay.  Those of us who, for a variety of reasons, had been unable to partake of the hospitality of the Brindleys last week waited with baited breath to be offered the freshly baked goodies served with afternoon tea that the other volunteers had told us about. We were not disappointed and 2pm became the "target" of the day as the invitation was kindly extended by Bronwyn Brindley to go for a cup of tea etc!

We set off for the balsam, armed with a "flotation" device that Joanne had requested last week. Paul had brought a small polystyrene surf board (was this a joke?) which seemed woefully inadequate to aid a safe crossing to the other side of the stream. Far more suitable to get to that elusive balsam were the most stylish and elegant waders that he produced from his van, and which some of the more fashion conscious volunteers eagerly offered to wear. Ropes and a couple of skinny looking life jackets were also taken with us in the name of health and safety.

Waderless, Laura has to content herself  with the 

less exciting job of counting blades of grass.

Oi! You without the waders. Out of the water. Now! 

Joanne is happy in her work.

Paul struggles to remain upright in the raging torrent.

To ensure the safety of the intrepid (stupid?) folk, who squelched their way into the muddy waters to pull the balsam along the banks of the stream, some of us remained on the strip of land between the stream and the mill race to keep an eye on them. Our task was to pull any remaining balsam from this strip between the 2 water courses that had been missed last week. Easy Peasy - except it wasn't. Where does all this stuff come from?!

I've found some here.

I've found some more over here. And here. Oh - and here too.

John takes a break to straighten up. 

The sheer enormity of the task up the slope ahead causes 

one NCV to make a bid for freedom under the wire.

We stopped for lunch, waders off (waders on gave to much of the effect of a beached whale!) Only an hour to go to that all important 2pm date with tea and cakes. And we were not disappointed. Civilisation with a capital C. Suitably fortified and grateful we returned to do another hour's "pulling", before, with aching backs, we admired our day's work and the piles of stacked balsam we'd shifted. 

The best kind of balsam is a heap of dead balsam.

We collected up the equipment and on the way back Joanne just had to pull up some mammoth plants that were coming into flower. Balsam's like that - you just can't leave it alone! Or can you?

Ros K.

Balsam pulling at Gate Bridge Watermill, Near Galphay:10-06-2014

If we have to pull balsam there is surely no better place than Gate Bridge Watermill on a beautiful sunny day. The watermill was tricky to find but is one of those corners of Yorkshire that we only discover through volunteering.

Nine volunteers and Paul set out to attack the first location, a strip of land between a lovely stream and the mill race. There was no shortage of the wretched weed but it did give in gracefully and very soon large piles of the monster started to appear. The scene of the volunteers stooped in line was reminiscent of a paddy field. Not to be missed next week, Joanne has requested a flotation device in order to get that elusive balsam on the river bank that we couldn’t reach from land. Don’t forget your cameras.

Joanne leads the way and demonstrates the balsam 

pulling technique to the uninitiated.

Meanwhile everyone else just ignores her and gets started.

The mill is owned by Bronwyn and John Brindley who very kindly offered us morning coffee and afternoon tea in their house, not what we are used to! Not only coffee and tea but a huge assortment of cakes freshly baked.

How civilised for a Tuesday coffee break. 

Tea in china cups. On proper chairs. On a carpet.

A beautiful picnic lunch by the mill race in the sun and loads of birthday cake provided by Tony made this a memorable day and set a difficult standard for any future pulling requests.

Lunch time for the lads. Cool dude Terry shuns the 

normal peaked cap in favour of his shades.

Finally John offered us a tour of the mill which was fascinating, a rare piece of Yorkshire heritage but in need of some TLC.

Views of the mill.......

Inside......

...... and outside.

It was a good day and I think we are almost looking forward to returning for more pulling there next week!

Terry

Hackfall Woods for tree clearance and more balsam battles: 03-06-2014

Nine volunteers and Paul turned out to enjoy a sensory experience at Hackfall.

The sight of ever increasing amounts of balsam didn’t bother us as we set to work pulling up the pesky weed. Seeing beautiful ferns and mosses uncovered and wonderful fungi hiding in the undergrowth emerging from the sweet smelling leaf litter lifted our spirits. But then there was the smell of something akin to a dead animal emanating from a Stinkhorn Phallus impudicus, which was enough to put you off your dinner.

Stinky stinkhorn

Feeling the heavy dew soaking though your gloves was less uncomfortable than the brambles scratching bare arms and midges nipping at your ears.  Thank heaven for “Skin so Soft”!

 Ferns win out over balsam and one NCV  

uses them as head protection against the midges.

The NCVs leave no fern unchecked in their quest to root out the balsam.

Hackfall is such a tranquil place to lose yourself in, not just in the maze of paths, but in the quiet sounds of the river cascading over rocks and the sound of birds high in the tree tops. The Chiffchaff competed with the distant buzz of the Great British chainsaw being put to good use by Paul, clearing the fallen trees crossing the footpaths.  Then there was the satisfying sound of balsam being twisted and stamped on to within an inch of its life, reminiscent of sound of a tender stick of celery being bitten into.

The lads get busy with their loppers and saws - 

any excuse to avoid the alternative of pulling balsam!

It went that way!

Red campion and brambles growing from balsam laid 

over a tree trunk 2 years ago - it does have its uses!

Last but not least was the delicious taste of flapjack which Paul kindly brought along to celebrate National Volunteer Week.  Thank you Paul.

One of many balsam cairns leading us back to our picnic site.

The long trek back up the hill to the car park is always tough, but it was made a little easier now that the path had been cleared through the wood.   Slipping and sliding through the muddy puddles added to our sensory experience and we boiled as we wended our weary way back to our cars in beautiful sunshine.

And so the NCVs leave the wood, secure in the 

knowledge that much balsam has been vanquished.

Here endeth another day of Balsam bashing……. but there’s more to come!

Anita