Category Archives: landscape

Detours in Jumble Hole Clough

A last-minute change of plan on the last Sunday of August entailed a rush to catch the bus up to Blackshaw Head for one of our regular walks into Jumble Hole Clough.  The driver failed to stop at the usual place and we alighted at the corner of The Long Causeway and walked back onto Badger Lane.  Taking our usual route down to the clough via the path signed ‘Calderdale Way’, we paused at Apple Tree Farmi to watch the alpacas frolicking with a friendly dog and gaze at attractive clouds scudding above Stoodley Pike.

At the meadow, we rested on the flat rock and it was only after several minutes that I noticed a crane fly right next to me – its grey colouring was perfect camouflage against the granite.

We crossed the bridge and walked down to Staups Mill where we lingered awhile.  Climbing the stony path up, we veered down to the left, following a sign.

 

This led us through a mini forest, past small disused quarries and picturesque boulders creating a gateway to a junction we recognised.  Turning left again we arrived at the clapper bridge.  Hungry by this point, we stopped here for a small picnic then continued climbing up to the ruined hovels.

Another sign pointed up steps atop the ruins.  Curious, we took a detour to find attractive stiles and trees.  Emerging in a field, I wondered if we’d stayed ‘up top’ we could have reached this point from the first field we entered.

We came back down to continue homeward.  At the mini moor, we needed another rest to recover from our climb.  I clambered the rock festooned with heather, reflecting that it had become much more overgrown since our early visits.  We continued down to Mount Olive chapel and onto the Pennine Bridleway.  On the descent, we spotted quite a few ripe blackberries t pick.  As the bridleway became cobbled, we said hello to a man working on his porch and paused again on the nearby broken bench.  Continuing down, we turned left onto a smaller path and followed it to ‘Wood view bridge’.  We crossed the road and onto the canal for a quick return home.

Note

i  http://www.appletreefarmalpacas.com/

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtishnQq0dSxwwteLNHQ

 

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Jack Bridge to Colden*

Strines Bridge 2

Early August had been a bit of a let-down.  I spent the first week ill in bed, watching the changeable and showery weather through the window with only intermittent and non-dependable sun.  Fortunately the second weekend stayed fine.  After a hot Saturday, Sunday brought a few clouds, cooling the temperature down a notch and creating ideal conditions for a walk.

Bee on thistleWe caught the bus to Colden and alighted at Jack Bridge.  Walking alongside Colden Water, we made frequent stops to examine wildlife in the hedgerows: bees hovered on purple balsam; strange orange insects came out in force to mate; thistle flowers gave way to downy seed heads.

Beside a barbed wire fence we spotted a wooden step ladder.  On the other side, a dilapidated caravan surrounded by outdoor furniture made us speculate about the al fresco living conditions of the less-fortunate locals.

 

Nearing Strines Bridge we detoured round the posh house and gardens into the field for a closer look.  Maybe it was my imagination but it seemed in more of a sad state than in our visit last spring.

Further up the lane we climbed a stile into a different field.  Causey stones led diagonally to a small wood.  A muddy path, churned up by mountain bikes then ran alongside the pine wood to the bottom of Rodmer Clough.  Signs of cultivation appeared in the hedges as we reached the corner of Land Farm.  From there, we had a hot, uphill climb to Edge Lane and along the top.

Hot StonesThe grass path we usually sneak up to reach High Gate Farm had become too overgrown necessitating a return to the road.  Passing ‘Hot Stones’, we noticed a lone standing stone.

At May’s, I commandeered the bench looking down the lane while Phil entered the farm shop to order hot cheese pies and tea.  As we waited I was being eaten alive by midges.

 

Crack Hill 2After eating we walked down the road to Crack Hill, still finding amusement in the name.  Proceeding to Slack and through Popples Common, we admired the bright new heather.  We rested on the bench just before Heptonstall, contemplating the landscape.

A dad passing on the road with two young girls on bikes amused us.  “Come on!” he shouted, in typical competitive parent style, as they struggled up the hill.  Bypassing the village, we descended Green Lane into Slater Ing.

Slater Ing 2A bit confused at first, as we had never walked this part in reverse before, we soon started to recognise the familiar rock features.  The muted light was particularly good for capturing their characteristic shapes.  The rocky path took ages to navigate and felt like hard work.  Eventually we reached the easier part above the large flat stones, again struck by the beautiful display of heather lining the route.  We took the steps at Hell Hole Rocks.

 

As we travelled through Eaves Wood and out onto Heptonstall Road, I said it was a long way to go for a cheese pie – like the olden days!

*The walk from Jack Bridge to May’s is the reverse of the ‘Edge Lane detour’ we took with M&M in April 2016.

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Purple heather 3

The Highest Beach

Saltway view 1A sunny mid-July Tuesday, I arranged to meet Marisa for a long-overdue trip to Gaddings Dami.  We caught a bus to Todmorden bus station and had a short wait for the Mankinholes circular. Initially, the tiny bus took us the way we had come but then turned right to climb Shaw Wood Road.  Round the houses, through Mankinholes, past the Top Brink Inn, we arrived at Lumbutts.  We alighted opposite the Shepherds’ Rest and went through the gate.  Marisa consulted me on a choice of three paths up.  She was not keen on the straightest and most popular option, heading steeply upwards and I did not fancy the ’quarry path’ which she informed me was quite a bit longer.  We settled on the third option, taking us along an ancient saltway.  Old stone paving became rough gravel further up.

The impressive boulder took on different aspects circumnavigation, looking decidedly like a chicken from the other side.

Stone feature 3

A little further on, we caught sight of the steps leading up to the dam.   Although we had almost reached our destination, the buffeting north wind blew across Walsden Moor making the climb arduous.  At the top of the dam wall, the wind became fiercer and I really wondered what on earth I was doing up there!  I walked away from the water’s edge to escape the worst of it.

Turning a corner Marisa spotted her friend J in the water who invited her to jump in but we walked on to the beach.  Guessing which person was her friend’s partner, we introduced ourselves.  I parked on the beach created by the yellow sandstone to rest while Marisa changed and went straight into the reservoir.  P sat at water’s edge adamant it was too cold for swimming.  I tentatively paddled and agreed it was bloody freezing!  Then he took the plunge and lay face down in the water.  “that’s brave!” I said.  He then badgered me to do likewise but I stuck to my guns.  After the brave ones had swum, we spent an enjoyable hour or so on the beach, chatting and sharing snacks.  A line of hikers marched across the moor, silhouetted against the western sky: “It’s a Lancastrian invasion!” we joked.  In truth, it was probably an end-of-term school outing.

Whos that coming over the hill

We consented to return via ‘the quarry path’.  It proved incredibly picturesque with fine views of the surroundings and birds of prey circling above.  However, I did not find it as gentle as Marisa had suggested.  Being sheltered from the wind it became hot necessitating short stops for rest and water.  The descent took easily twice as long as our ascent.  Back at the pub, we said goodbye as J&P retrieved their car.  Luckily, we discovered a bus due.  It took us via Walsden back to Todmorden.  An interminable wait ensued at the bus station as three buses in a row sailed past displaying ‘not in service’ signs.  Eventually, one arrived to take us home.  I asked the driver what was going on.  “They’re all lazy” he said dismissively – very helpful!  During the journey I was so tired that I started falling asleep.  Marisa declared “It’s such a lovely evening I think I’ll go for another walk”.

Quarry path

Notes

i               http://www.gaddingsdam.org/

ii              https://www.calderdale.gov.uk/wtw/sources/themes/plugriot.html

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Up and Down to Stubbing’s

Saint James church tower

A gorgeous July evening, Marisa arrived for an evening stroll and dinner. With no firm plans, we stepped outside to admire hydrangeas in the garden until Phil was ready to join us. After some debate, we settled on Stubbing’s the long way round.  We ascended the Cuckoo Steps a short stretch, entered ‘Robin’s Park’ and took the path to Heptonstall Road.  Crossing the road, we continued to Church Lane and commenced the steep climb.  At the corner of Bank Terrace, I had to pause for breath and noticed the lovely view of St. James’ Church tower framed by green leaves and lilac.

Signs of doom 1We discussed the chimney of Bankfoot Mill – quite a way from the mill buildings that sat in the valley bottom.  Marisa told me that what looked like an overgrown path by the side of the chimney was the original flue.  We continued round and down Savile Road.

We agreed that the ‘danger keep out’ signs were probably designed to deter trespassing on private land rather than for any concern for the general public.

 

 

Wall with poppy plantOn the opposite side of the road, a red brick wall arrested our attention: optimistic ferns and poppies had populated the cracks and niches while some housed snails.

A little further on, Marisa suggested detour to a picturesque small wood nearby.  Up a lane, opposite ‘Treetops’ bungalows we found a gap in the hedgerow.  Crouching to avoid being pricked by holly bushes, we entered the lovely woodland of oak and silver birch.

 

A rusty memorial to a local architect stood to the left as we carried on into a glade.  Several paths led on up to Rawtenstall but without refreshments, we had run out of steam to climb further.  I declared I needed liquid.  We retraced our steps back to Savile Road and continued down back to the main road.  We crossed over and travelled the short distance to Stubbings.

Stubbings duck familyMarisa found seats by the canal while Phil and I fetched drinks and menus.  We ordered food and admired a family of ducks on the canal.  Just before our meals arrived, a group of women with dogs arrived Oh no! I thought, that’s bad timing!

However, they were quite well-behaved apart from the inevitable begging.  The food was all good but Marisa struggled to finish her lamb and gave some to the black Labrador by her feet.  A breeze picked us as we decided to return home.

We walked along the towpath surveying the stricken weeds that an elderly man had attacked with a stick.  Further on, a pair of geese watched from the water’s edge as their offspring rooted amongst plants on the other side of the path.  Wary of getting between parent and child, we paused until we deemed it safe to continue.  Marisa and I walked quickly past the hissing pair while Phil shouted “what about me!”  I laughed.  A couple walked towards us.  As they approached, Phil snuck by and said to the man “you’re alright, you’ve got a stick”.  I said I would get him a goose stick!

Woodland trees

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Return to Willow Gate

River art 1Mid July, the intermittent summer returned bringing a bright, sunny day but with a breeze making conditions bearable.  Phil and I took the same walk.   As we ambled along the river, we noticed the sun falling between the trees made arty reflections on the water’s surface.  Our photos looked like impressionist masterpieces without the need for any digital trickery!.

At Hardcastle Crags, we walked through the full car park, trying to locate the path I’d found instinctively in March but this time it eluded me.  Confused, I asked a man in an NT hut.  After he tried to flog me a map, I eventually garnered from him the way to the Willow Gate path.  I just about recognised the leafy lane now overgrown with summer vegetation.  At the field, I suggested a rest but the gate was not attached and required too much heft to lift so we perched on the wall.  I pointed out a huge rabbit in the rough field opposite.  Phil captured it on camera but I failed.  As we climbed up the stone path, I indicated various rock features remembered from my previous visit.

 

Continuing to the top of the wood, we crossed a stile and went up the ‘green lane’ to emerge at Shackleton.  Spotting another rabbit, this time I managed to get it in shot.  At the bottom of Shackleton Hill, we debated options.  Phil said he needed to rest and I thought going into the dean might be too much for me anyway.  We started down the track on the lookout for a stopping place, settling on a clump of rocks amidst the trees.  We ate a small picnic before walking the short distance back to Midgehole Road.  With 10 minutes till the 906 bus was due, we waited to enjoy a lovely quick ride back to town.  As we walked home, the sky became cloudier and the air cooler.

 

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New Road through Erringden

New Road cobbles 2

The last Sunday of June, we ascended Palace House Road planning to go straight up to Crow Nest wood.

Purple foxglove 2Initially taking our usual path upwards, we made frequent stops to admire foxgloves in various shades of pink, purple and white and tried to capture bees on camera as they foraged for nectar.  Halfway up, I noticed a footpath leading off from the right with a sign pointing up to ‘Bar Cliff’ and suggested we try it for a change.

Along a walled path, we got different views of the town and surrounds and could hear the handmade parade party in the park.  We emerged near Weasel Hall, and continued up, following the cobbled New Road (well, I guess it was new once) up and round, noting the different coloured flowers.  At the summit, the wind picked up and I held onto my hat until we arrived at Old Chamber.

At the next the corner, we paused to look at grazing sheep: small family groups sat peaceably; lambs bleated and demanded ewe’s milk between munching grass; scruffy adults moulted wool.    We turned left and searched for a suitable stone to rest on, finally settling on the verge.  A woman passed by, with a mincing gait, which we cruelly mimicked behind her back.

But as we continued down Spencer Lane, care was needed to navigate the close-set cobbles and I laughed at Phil’s delicate steps. “who’s mincing now?”

Shiny beeReaching the bottom of the lane we took a shortcut back to the narrow lower path through Crow Nest.  Passing the quarry, we noticed the stream now headed westwards down the middle of the path for a short distance before tipping over the cliff edge.  So that’s where it had disappeared to! We continued until we arrived at the path we had started out on.

Within the hedgerow, a shiny been settling on bramble blossom caught my eye.

 

 

I remarked it had been a long circuitous walk considering the small area we had covered.  Back on Palace House Road, we took the side lane down to the canal and noted very large balsam plants growing amidst the setts of the run-off, safe from the wrath of the balsam-bashers. We walked along the north side crossing at Blackpit lock to return home via Hebble End.

Spencer Lane 3

 

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Notes:Erringden is derived from the Norse Heyrikdene; Valley of Erik or ‘Valley of the High Ridge’.  see:  http://www.hebdenroyd.org.uk/erringden/index.html

Up The Buttress and down to the pub

 

Buttress looking upA Wednesday in June, the weather was not as good as forecast, but warm and sunny in places.   Phil had been working at home and having been glued to the computer, late afternoon we eventually left the house.  With no aim in mind we wandered up to the top of the road onto the buttress.  As we climbed, I tried not to slip on the cobbles which never get the sun.

Cobbled lane going down 2At the top we sat briefly on the wall to catch our breath then continued along Heptonstall road thinking about going to Lee Wood.  Instead, we headed down the next path which I thought might lead to Moss Lane but as we descended, I realised it would end up at Foster Mill Bridge.  As we approached, we headed left to go through Hollins and into Hareshaw Wood.

It became warmer and I stripped off a layer and rest on some large stones just off the path.  We kept to the lower part of the wood and crossed the stream now totally dried up (odd as we’d had rain recently) and down to the ‘Swiss chalets’.

Riverside beachOver the stone bridge, we walked along the river towards town, crossing back at the next bridge to the sunny side.  Pausing for a bit of beachcombing, we spotted a bike and I said “You always find something on this beach!” (although it was obviously not detritus).

Further on, we laughed at kids practicing with stilts on Salem Fields (Phil joked it had spoiled the surprise for what was in store during the ‘Handmade Parade’.

 

At Valley road, we went back alongside the river then into the centre in search of beer.  After circumnavigating the town, we ended up back in the square.  I sat at a small table outside the shoulder as he went to the bar.  Supping pints, we watched the early evening antics; a young jackdaw strutted about and jumped on a crisp packet for the hell of it; children ran about and cycled round their parents; a friend passed by and gave us a cheery wave.  We reflected that it was almost like being on holiday – sitting in the town square now full of pubs and cafes, except here all the latter shut at tea-time.  Maybe it’s time to change that.  After all, we’ve only got 20 drinking establishments in the town centre (at the last count)…

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