Tag Archives: cobbles

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

 

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtirofLlQswnIIvNq2vQ

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)…

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtirZ0I9_fMSyemPiO6Q

Colden to Heptonstall

Hebble Hole bridge 1

The last Sunday in March started sunny but partly cloudy, perfect for walking.  We took the quick way up through Mytholm and along the track into Colden Clough.

Lumb mill twin trees 1.jpgWe noted the newly constructed managed weir on the river just before Lumb Mill.  Stopping for a short rest, I realised I had not yet taken photos of the ‘twin trees’ with my new camera.  Halfway up the clough, we dallied in the garlic fields to pick a few early season leaves.  At Hebble Hole we crossed the clapper bridge, and took the small steps up to Hudson Mill Lane.

We continued along the road, turning left towards Colden Village and onto May’s.  I entered the farm shop to buy pies.

 

Wagtail 2I did not pick my moment well: several people arrived at the same time, including a woman in slippers and a dressing gown.  As we sat on the bench outside eating the warmed pies, we watched a pied wagtail delicately searching between the cobbles for morsels, and chatted.

 

 

Phil suggested the shop had created a culture of dependency within a 500 metre radius.  I reckoned the catchment area was somewhat wider as many people drove there.  Feeling tired, I checked the bus times but it would be almost an hour until the next one.

We walked down Edge Lane, observing our first field of new lambs, through Popples Common towards Heptonstall.  On the edge of the village, I again considered waiting for the bus.  Instead, Phil suggested visiting the Cross Inn.  We sat in the beer garden supping pints.  It started to get cooler with the waning sun.  We finally agreed to catch the bus home.  A cat followed us to the bus stop.  As we waited, I collected rather nice cedar cones form the small park on Hepton Drive.

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtippLMXnh6q5-g4Oxgw

Sheep and lambs 2