Tag Archives: industrial heritgae

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.

 

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtir5JjUJNVwWxNVISSA

Up and Down Colden

clouds-and-contrail

Five days into 2017, another cold, bright day dawned.  We set off early afternoon to catch a bus ‘up tops’.    We alighted at the last stop, Smithy Lane.

frosty-grass-1From behind the bus stop we took the small old path that we had descended the previous September, again admiring the old wooden gate and worn stones as frosty grass crunched underfoot.

Reaching Edge Lane, we gazed southwards towards the dazzling sun before walking onto High Gate Farm.  We entered May’s Shop to buy lunch.  Shock, horror!  No pies!

 

We settled instead for sandwiches and tea, eating on the bench looking back out to the road we had just travelled.

hudson-mill-road-warning-signsWe then headed down the grassy path to Fold Lane and through Colden village.  The now-familiar jumble of farm junk, old stone buildings and gate posts punctuated the journey down the lane, edged with ice where the sun never shone.  Back on Smithy Lane we turned right and followed the bend round to Hudson Mill Road, taking in a collection of warning signs on the corner.  From the bridleway we headed down the first flight of steps.  We made our way gingerly down the icy steps into Hebble Hole.  The glade looked like a winter fairyland!

 

 

winter-gladeWanting to stay in the sun as long as possible, we crossed the clapper bridge and climbed upwards to the old causeway.  Looking back, I caught stunning views of clouds and contrails against a gorgeous blue sky.   We followed the yellow footpath signs for quite some way until we came to a junction.

Pausing on the conveniently-placed bench, we considered a choice of three routes: up to Heptonstall; straight down to Lumb Bank; down to the right taking a steep set of stone steps.

 

We opted for the latter and emerged above Lumb Bank Mill.  From there we took the windy but relatively safe route back across the river and onto the bridleway for a quick return home.

wooden-gate-and-wall-1

Pennine Bridle Way to Knott Wood

PBW 2g - Looking back  3

On a bright mid-August Thursday, my partner had a free afternoon allowing us to take a rare mid-week outing.   We set off for the bus stop intending to travel up to Slack.  The buses’ tardiness made us impatient and eventually we got the next bus that came and alighted at Callis figuring we could walk up from there.

A Lacy UnderbridgeWhilst crossing the road, we decided to make a change to our now-normal route and went up Underbank laughing anew at ‘Lacy Underbridge’ and onto the Pennine bridleway (PBW).

As we climbed the steep overgrown cobbled path (signifying not many other people did), we noted that whilst we sometimes came back down this way, it had been our original route up before we discovered the alternatives.

PBW 3b - Stone wall 1

We paused occasionally to admire views and catch our breath.  Soon after Mount Olive Chapel, we came to a junction.  Considering a small path through the tops of the woods, we elected instead to stay on the PBW as we had never walked that section before.

The path became much easier, with setts edged by well-maintained stone walls behind which fields and hay bales lay.

Reaching the top of that section we bought home-made jam at the entrance of a farm, placing payment in the honesty box.  We then rested on a wall at the corner of the farm track.

A woman and a small dog with a sock appeared coming along a smaller path that emerged at a gap in the wall.  I asked her where the path went and she told me ‘Marsh Farm’.  We had a short chat and it turned out she had made the jam.  She and her husband who had appeared at the farm gate, thanked us.

We continued on the route up and I told Phil he would recognise it soon.  He was distracted by crows flying around the fields and telegraph wires, but as we proceeded, it suddenly dawned on him: we were at the corner of Winter’s Lane.  We turned right along the lane and down into Rawtenstall.

Rawtenstall - Magical tree 1As we descended, we noted the deliberately twee features created by trees and rocks, the old stone gate post, and old ruined buildings from long-gone settlements (that I had failed to notice on our visit the previous autumn).

Phil joked about turning them into ‘ye olde village’ on his photo blog.

Winding down Turret Hall Road, we spotted a path leading off through Knott Wood and thought it would just cut the corner off.  This proved not to be the case.

We were led up and down, via tiny steps and narrow paths, through gates and over styals, and eventually emerged in a builder’s yard now occupying a disused quarry.  We admired the raised beds where onions and other veg grew, and strange large balls.

Knott Wood - Old quarryFinding no way through the yard, we doubled backed slightly and had a choice of following the overgrown path westwards, or going eastwards for a time.  We chose the latter, surmising that it must end up back on the road soon.  Thankfully, this time we were right.  We emerged down another flight of small stone steps onto Oakville Road.  I enjoyed walking alongside the railway lines as trains whizzed by.

Back on Burnley Road, we looked for the talking bird but couldn’t see it.  I did, however, discover more ruins and stone steps at the side of Woodbine Terrace.  A little way down, we crossed the busy road and entered Stubbings pub.  We ordered pints and food.  As we lingered canalside with a second drink, the air became chilly with the setting sun and the other tables emptied of punters.  We walked home along the canal and said what a nice time we’d had – which was just as well as the weather turned miserable for the next few days!

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtiLdDOWPCAH-90Q4hVA

Knott Wood - Path and gate 1

A Dodgy Walk from Blake Dean

Graining Water 1

The intermittent summer of 2016 and a series of family traumas did not allow for many opportunities to enjoy longer days out.  However, the first Saturday in August promised to be a good, fine day for walking.  We determined to forget recent troubles and make the most of it.

1800 markerI got together a picnic and we set out for the bus stop.  We almost gave up waiting for the community bus, as it was delayed by several minutes.

At last it arrived and we rode up to Blake Dean, alighting at the bridge over Graining Water.

I noticed for the first time the stonemason’s mark – ‘W. 1800’ – carved into an edge stone.

 

We crossed the road and descended via the rickety wooden gate into the dean.  Predictably busy on a warm summer’s day, we escaped uphill via paths overgrown with bracken, away from the crowds.  A lump of rocks edged an attractive grassy path, in front of a small stone cave.  We enjoyed a picnic and views whilst discussing options for the walk down into the crags.

Stone caveOpting to stay on the east side of the stream, we kept on the lower grassy path.

This took us above the remains of the trestle bridge i, over a rickety styal, past a disused quarry (likely again related to the temporary railway) and through what could have been an abandoned garden.

 

 

We then entered a cedar wood, awestruck by its sheer beauty.  Tall trees emitted scents redolent of Christmas, interspersed with truncated and fallen trunks.  We continued downstream, until things took a turn for the worse.  Apparent landslips had rendered the path unnavigable in places.  Springs had created bogs, very tricky to cross.  Much trial and error ensued. Our feet became inevitably wet and muddy (thank goodness for waterproof sandals!)

Fed up of the constant sinking, we considered fording the stream but it did not look safe enough.  Eventually we came to an old stone wall and paused to think.  After some deliberation, we decided to try and ford yet another impromptu stream surrounded by bog.  However, in spite of laying down a carpet of bracken, I was unable to make the leap.  Meanwhile, a group of European hikers appeared, in the same predicament “on no!  We will be here forever!” one of them said “yes, we are stuck” I agreed” do we have enough provisions?”  This made them all laugh in that continental way.

Wooden styalI recognised a house further up whose garden we had traversed on our very first walk on this side of the water some years before. We headed upwards in search of a path to said house.

Alas, we searched in vain but we did eventually find a safe crossing point after which the path became easy going, eventually merging with an access road which again I remembered from our first foray in this specific part of the wood.

 

Back in familiar territory, we expected the last leg through the crags to be plain sailing.  However, a flood-ravaged bridge necessitated another wet, muddy feet experience as we had to use the original Victorian path underneath the cliffs.

At Gibson Mill, we were so late even the toilets had been locked!  Exacerbated, we commandeered one of the deserted picnic tables to partake of apple pie and pop.  From there, we took the quick way back along the driveway to the main gate and along Midgehole Road and onto town.

Cedar wood 3

I Later that month, Phil came across a pamphlet by the University of Leeds with some interesting facts and photos about the history of Hardcastle Crags.  Amongst other things, there is a fantastic picture of a train crossing the trestle bridge just below Blake Dean: http://www.see.leeds.ac.uk/misc/scienceandtourism/Final%20copy%20leaflets/Industrial%20Heritage%20leaflet.pdf

On the first Sunday in October, we again rode the community bus up to Blake Dean.  We spent a few minutes rambling in the dean.  Rowan trees in full berry looked beautiful against the early autumn backdrop as water sparkled under a blue sky.

We then took our more usual route back down.  Some very churned up muddy bits on undulating parts made the path rather tricky in places.   I became quite anxious at one point and sat down in a mossy glade to recover.  We spotted lots of mushrooms and a triangle-shaped rock we had not noticed before.  Refreshed, we continued down and noted that the bridges and paths damaged in the floods had all been fixed. It seemed to take quite a while to reach Gibson Mill so as usual, it was shut.

A cloud of midges descended on us as we sat on the picnic bench finishing our flask of coffee.  Again, we opted for the top track to reach the gate quickly and onto Midgehole road.  I stubbed my toe 3 times on the riverside path (cursing the walking shoes I was wearing rather than sandals I had worn since April) and felt the need to stop once more on a bench near one of the ‘beaches’ for a short rest.  Phil suggested I look for archaeology but all I found were pieces of a boring jug!

rowan-tree-close-up

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtiKkeI2VJ1XgFqOVqFQ; https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtiOBlL5cJNFTN45ZxzQ

 

Heptonstall to Hardcastle Crags

 

Meadow Flowers 2

Having failed in an earlier attempt to reach Hardcastle Crags from Heptonstall, we tried again during the fine weather of the late May bank holiday weekend.  We caught the bus up to the village to ease our ascent.

Heptonstall NorthfieldWe walked the short walk up Towngate , passing the two pubs.  We paused at Top O’ The Town before turning right up Townfield and along to Northfield.

Notable for never being enclosed and still containing common land, this attractive area includes traditional stone-built houses and pre-fabs with attractive gardens.

 

 

Above Town - view with open gateWe emerged onto a truly stunning path!  Views overlooking three valleys confronted us, with Lee Wood directly below and Pecket Well and Old Town in the distance.

The hedgerows and meadows were resplendent with flowers of all colours.  Cows with their babies grazed peacefully in the fields.

 

I paused to consult the map and determined that we could either go straight down to Midgehole or hang a left and head further along the crags.  We plumped for the latter.  This took us across a wildflower meadow, where we dawdled to take close-up nature shots.

We exited via a tiny stone gate onto Draper Lane.  We then continued on the footpath on the opposite side of the road along the top of the crags.

Barbed wire 1Several interesting features lined the way as we walked through the woods: very arty barbed wire, sheep wool, a busy anthill, and seasonal curly ferns.

Eventually we came to another junction and chose the route heading downwards.  Large stones took the place of earth underfoot as we wound down to the ‘scout hut’.

 

We entered the crags near a grassy riverbank.  Finding a convenient rock ‘on the beach’, we settled down intending to eat pies we had brought with us, when dogs and children appeared.  We shooed them off and waited until they were out of sight before having our picnic.  We lingered awhile, contemplating the sparkling water and marvelled at a tree growing from a tiny island in the middle of the river.  Phil found some pieces of quartz which I washed in the river.

Hardcastle Crags - Hebden Water 2We walked round a very fine rock and onto small stepping stones across Hebden Water.  The other side proved crowded with more kids and dogs.

I remarked that this popularity was why we usually avoided the lower crags although it is a lovely spot.

 

 

At this point it is necessary to make a short climb in order to continue down to the lower entrance of the crags.  But we kept as close to the river as possible, with the cool water and trees providing respite from the hot sun. Amongst other things we noticed prominent tree roots underfoot, a variety of woodland flowers, a clay pit and the old weir.

At Midgehole, we laughed at the ‘New Bridge Hall – no parking’ sign.  It’s alright for some!  But to be fair, it is the original name of the property.

We visited the Blue Pig and sat on a bench by the river, enjoying our beer and the intermittent sun and watching the antics of yet more dogs and escapees from town centre bars.

As it turned chilly, we departed, taking the riverside path into town.  We had a second pint in The Oldgate.  Perched on the low part of the wall, I warned Phil not to drop his phone in the river this time.  As the sun inevitably disappeared behind a chimney, we made our way home.

A year on, we repeated the walk with one minor detour – we veered off the slippery stone path just above the scout hut, navigating carefully through grass and pine trees.

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQth8B6sDMJkEZfTc5csg; https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtirV851NDlOnsNP_KZQ

Hardcastle Crags - Tree roots

Edge Lane Detour

Cascade 2c

On a remarkably sunny Wednesday in April, Phil and I caught a bus from Market Street to Callis.  We had arranged to meet two walking friends somewhere up the tops and kept in touch via text.

Ruined house gardenWe walked up Jumble Hole, admiring the scenery as usual, especially the lovely waterfalls and ruined houses (some with spring gardens which made us laugh).

We found the uphill climbs hard work, but took it easy and stopped at Staups Mill for a break.  We then carried on to the small bridge taking us across the pretty brook and up to the fields below Blackshaw Head.

I paused to text our friends and check the map for a quick way down to Colden.  I had worked it out when a passing driver confirmed my instinct and we proceeded on the Calderdale Way across farmland until it met the Pennine Way going down to Hudson Mill Lane.

Colden - Lamb groupJust before the junction with Smithy Lane, we admired new born lambs.  Our friends awaited us on the bench at Jack Bridge.  We all walked up to May’s for the excellent cheese pies.

As Marisa and I went to use the primitive loo, a sheepdog cowered from us in fear.  I said it made a change; it was usually them that spooked me!

 

Signs

Marisa suggested going up Edge Lane as an alternative route back to Jack bridge.  We set off, with Hot Stones Hill on our right.

At the next junction, a sign directed travellers to tantalisingly named places such as Lower Earlees and Salt Pie (a historic stop on the packhorse tracks).

We turned down the lesser-used School Land Lane which skirted the bottom of Rodmer Clough, where a ruined chimney looked the remains of a fairy castle, and round the edge of Land Farm.

We then had a choice of routes and took the lower one. As it skirted a wood, the path became narrower.  A screeching bird could be heard but not seen…

Ruined chimneyEmerging in a field, the grass path became paved with ancient causey stones.  We crossed a styal onto New Road. I struggled to keep up with the pace setters and welcomed a short rest.

Marisa pointed out Strines Bridge in a field a little way down.  I asked if we could get to it.

The answer was yes.  Further down the lane we turned down a short driveway and across a very nice garden.  A tiny stream tinkled alongside us as we crossed a wooden bridge and then followed the line of the stream into a field.

Again, the grass path revealStrines Bridge close up 3ed old causey stones.  Peaceful sheep grazed next to the impossibly cute stone bridge, traversing a sky-blue stream.  A sharp arch was accessed by a tiny opening.  We remarked that the packhorses must have been very small (I later found out that the bridge was most likely a footbridge linking Strines Farmhouse with Coldeni.

From there, it was a relatively easy walk back down the lane to Jack Bridge.  We headed straight ahead back onto Hudson Mill Lane, and down the small, steep steps to Hebble Hole.  The boots I had chosen to wear that day proved ill-advised as my toes hurt with every step down.

We took the lower path to the garlic fields.  Phil did most of the picking as I felt exhausted and dehydrated.  I thought we were staying down in the clough but were led upwards to the top causeway.  I became even more fatigued.  Thankfully, we did not climb all the way up but instead came back down above Lumb Bank.  Mind you, loose stones and dried leaves made the path very tricky, causing more pain to my feet.

Utterly exhausted, I eschewed a visit to the pub. The day had already been too long for me. I  also felt far too sweaty to be in mixed company. I started stripping off garments even before I got in the house.  Once indoors, I hastily removed more clothes and doused myself in cold water.  I realised I had heat exhaustion.  Angry and upset, I ranted that when I said I was tired, dehydrated, and in need of rest, I really meant it.  The next day I still suffered from exhaustion.  On reflection, I decided it was my own fault – I should have heeded the signs that I had reached my limit and got on a bus instead of struggling on.

Nevertheless, the walk itself was lovely and it gave me ideas for further exploration of the Colden area (at a manageable pace)!

More photos at: https://onedrive.live.com/redir?resid=2DF4BDD5DCD70A39!118018&authkey=!ADRkaR0M8cPUjdY&ithint=folder%2c

Sky blue stream

i https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1133947

Canal to Callis

Callis wood wonderland 1

Last Sunday was another bright October day. We set off towards Hebble End and westwards along the canal.

I spotted someone filming the scene on an ipad and wondered aloud how many crap videos we must be on. My partner played up to the camera, doing a very silly jig.

We bumped into a friend and walked her to the pub where she was meeting up with other people. After saying goodbye, we carried on along the towpath.  We enjoyed the patchy sunshine and joked about walkers in their hiking gear.

Abandoned bridge 1Just before Callis, we spotted a bridge over the river we had not noticed before and clambered through undergrowth for a closer look. We deduced it must be an old bridge although built up with concrete at a later date. Derelict-looking buildings stood behind, one of which appeared modern.

Callis wood wonderland 4We then found the path leading to the ‘wood wonderland’. I had known of its existence for some time but had never explored. Someone had obviously put some effort into making it attractive.

Following the path, we spotted various features including wigwams, birds hanging in trees, trees with tiny apples, chairs stood in a glade and a lovely arch at the start (we had done the walk backwards).

From Callis Bridge, we walked across the road for some exploration at the bottom of Jumble Hole Road and contemplated the old Lancashire/Yorkshire boundary.

Callis wood wonderland 7More photos at: http://1drv.ms/1Qntj8e