Langdale Fells, chosen by us instead of The Great Yorkshire Show. My first visit to the Lakes which set my love of the place, health and safety non existent, I wore an old pair of dads steel capped work boots that didn’t fit too well and my waterproof was a yellow cycle cape, and when the rain came I was like a walking yellow funnel! The girls wore their hockey boots. Seated are Pete O’Connor, Norman Hill, Catherine Bell and Liz Hindmarsh. Standing are Barry Moss and Mr Humble the Art Teacher.
Photograph and details courtesy of Norman Hill.
Picture Stockton Archive 
I remember this outing to the Langdale valley well from Richard Hind. It was my first outing to the Lakes and left a lasting impression. In later life I had the privilege of living in Penrith and covered the whole of Lakeland as part of my job. Other outings included The Spanish City Whitley Bay and Ripon.
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Hi Roger. Myself & Liz remember the Ripon trip which was also meant to go to Mount Grace Priory, which was called off as it was pouring down. I think we also took in Knaresborough.
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I can remember this. Happy days.
Nice to hear Cath, Liz & Norm. Stay safe and healthy. Kev x.
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Two interesting accounts here of the experiences of two former students. I align myself with the narrative recounting ‘war efforts” we kids” were party to each year – tatey picking being the basis for my recollection – I was twelve years old at WWII ‘s commencement.
I was amused by the gear used by the hikers, truly makeshift for the occasion. In modern times – i.e. now – children would not dream of starting such a hike unless they were kitted out with about five-hundred dollar’s worth of gear, clothing, and proper footwear. The make-do and wear of those hikers must have been a hold-out of wartime shortages and privations? Strict rationing of all non- essentials – and essentials too, that lasted for many years after war’s end, but from the years suggested here, those hikers would probably have no such memories.
The thrill of a school outing was denied my generation, but I recall my sister, Dorothy, four years older, went to Paris with her Richard Hind class., the last such school adventure before the declaration of war in that September.
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Ron Haslock, That brought memories of older boys at Richard Hind, Tommy Seaton, one of the Marshalls biscuit family, Ray? Hindmarsh. Though younger than you my claim to fame was putting Bill Williams PE Teacher (Egyptian swimming champion) on his back in a boxing lesson in St Peters Hall, he did not know I had taken lessons from an early age. He got on his feet and beat me up in a purely scientific way of course.
WE came from a different era Ron, our parents DIY experts before it was invented, my Mother a Taylor Dressmaker could make clothes out of army blankets, Dad a gardener supreme, we never went hungry. Most families with a garden had hens pigs geese and ducks so children were brought up with animals and farming practice, I killed my first pig at not quite fourteen when Dad and the butcher Tommy Hutchinson were struggling to hold the pig. At shout from Tommy I picked up the humane killer gun and that was it, bacon did not come neatly package from a shop it had to be killed salted and cured before we could eat it so two pigs a year and in wartime two for the Government.
I smiled at Norman, the do it yourself kit, we roamed the moors in every day wear although I did have an Army Cape, fastened at the neck and draped over you like a Bell Tent it kept you dry.
The Stockton area was surrounded with Market Gardens and Farms so lots of us did have experience of the methods used during the war to bring in Harvests, remember the Rose Hip gathering, we all got our daily dose of Rose Hip Syrup
Farmers have their backs to the wall these days everything they do is wrong in some peoples eye’s, if they put the farmers out of business I ask who would feed us, do we all eat grass, “oops” sorry the Methane produced would mean the end of the world, I see no answer.
Frank.
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Sorry this was summer 1970, after O Levels
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Hi, I left Summer 1968, I have no memory of school trips to the Lakes or Paris !! perhaps I wasn’t in the right group,! Hazel McAndrew
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Nice one Big Norm, must have been 1970 was it? Any idea what happened to Peter O’Connor?
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How different the times Norman, Our outings from the Richard Hind were Potato picking and Hay making, “oh and Harvest” we had no choice in the matter.
School bus to school as normal then onto small buses to be shipped out to Farms where we were given a mesh basket and told to follow the Scuffler which dug up the potato’s, when the basket was full we tipped it into the horse drawn Rully, ( a two wheel Cart). We would be working with a lot of local people from the villages mainly women and girls and got Five shillings for five days work.
The Farmers wife and helpers would bring hot drinks to the field around half ten with usually home made biscuits. At half twelve we would all trek to a barn and have sandwiches and more tea.
We suffered a lot of badinage from the local village girls who thought of us as posh twits, most had left school long before they reached fourteen.
The afternoon was more of the same then onto the bus for the trip back to school and the school bus home, We had a small holding so I knew the drill, long trousers, wellington boots and a Ganzi some were in school uniform and shoes though only for the first day, they learned the hard way.
Hay making was the same only always warmer. The Horse drawn Rake pulled the dry hay into small heaps and we went along the field tossing the heaps onto the Wayne with pitch forks (Two pronged Forks). When that was full we would all climb on the wayne and ride to the stackyard then toss the hay onto the Hay Stack in the making. Once the stack was to the right height the Thatcher would put a thatched top on the stack.
As I got older I went to my Uncle Arthurs Farm and drove the Rully or the Wayne, I had to have a letter from my Uncle to say what I was doing as the rest of the school went off into the country.
I nearly forgot Harvest, another HOLIDAY I think, stooking to dry then stacking the wayne and off to the Stacks to wait for the Thresher.
That would go from Farm to Farm pulled by a steam Engine on would go the belts to drive the thresher and we would be throwing the bundles onto the thresher or dropping the bags of grain off the chutes at the back and putting fresh bags on.
It was all hard work though we did have a lot of fun as well and there was the knowledge we were doing something for the war effort.
Frank.
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Catherine Bell lived in Dover Road, Ragworth, along with her brother Chris, mam & dad, her dad Harry was in St John’s Church choir.
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What year?
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I guess you are looking at early 1960’s, and if so I used to go to ballroom dancing class where Jean Hindmarsh was my partner.
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