R*n 927: Galgate

So here we go - better late than never, but don't look up my past write-up record -there may be evidence of never! So what do you know about Galgate? At the risk of boring you, here, from the fount of a lot of Knowledge, unfortunately most of it useless, are the facts! 

Galgate is a village 3 miles south of Lancaster with a population of 2,180, swelled last Sunday by 9 intrepid Hashers, eager to seek out more info, (or maybe have a brisk walk/run and meet in the Plough!). The name of the village comes from its original Galwaithegate, a road that continues north to Galloway.

The main north/south railway passes on a viaduct over the village, which once had its own station, which closed in 1939, so I narrowly missed the chance to catch a train there, what a loss! 

The Lancaster Canal runs through the village and has a narrow-boat marina, which probably only STT and myself traversed, for reasons that will be apparent later. 

Galgate had a water-powered corn mill which was replaced in 1792 by a three storey wooden beam mill, the first mechanical silk mill in England. A second mill was added in the early 1800s,  and a third in 1851. A story is told that so much rhubarb was grown locally it was used for dyeing the silk, but there is no evidence to support this. 

Leaving the Plough car park we Hashers navigated northwards, inspected the viaduct and the Silk Mill,  and proceeded on our way encountering various checks before reaching the Lancaster Canal, a common feature of many LVH3 Hashes. It was at this point that I met up with STT and we decided to go in search of the copious amounts of the aforementioned rhubarb.  So engrossed were we in the search that we passed a pile of flour by a gate, through which we should have left the canal towpath, but we continued southwards in our quest, until we had misgivings that we had gone too far, though I did comment ro STT that when we got to Preston I wouild recognise it, as the Canal was a regular feature of family walks when I lived there. We then encountered some young fishermen, who after questioning confirmed that we had walked too far south. 

Now I always approach coarse fishermen with some trepidation, as on one family Canal walk with my Mum and myself (I was about 10 years old then) we were walking past a coarse man as he was casting when I felt a sting in my forehead - he had certainly caught a big catch as his hook was now embedded in my forehead!  I refused to jump into the Canal so he could take a photo of his big catch! 

When I relate this story people say I was lucky, as the hook could have gone in my eye!. Just think - it could have been our day of world fame, with headlines like - "Preston Fisherman caught monster Carp using boy's eye as bait". Fortunately, this did not happen and after a bit of a struggle his hook was released from my now bloody forehead, so no point in carping on about it, though being a glass half full man I may well have considered this particular incident more negatively!

So STT and myself turned about and retraced our steps back to said gate where a concerned LP welcomed us back to the fold.  From there it was just a short treck back to the Plough, where we all enjoyed a very welcoming meal. 

Now you will have to decide for yourselves which story was true - were STT and myself  engrossed in searching for rhubarb and/or did I get a hook in my forehead. The answer is in my head!!