Tag Archives: sheep

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

Beyond the Treeline

Crow Nest branches and sky 1

A late April Sunday walk began with a climb up to Crow Nest wood.  We took the most direct route straight to the top treeline.

Crow Nest early bluebellThe previous seasons’ detritus crunched underfoot, broken in places by fresh spring growth.  A few early bluebells pushed up through the brown.   Above us, branches framed a fresh blue sky.  We crossed the glade at the top of the quarry, passing a clump of silver birch and noting fresh green shoots on oak and chestnuts along the tiny path.

 

We navigated the tree roots serving as steps down near Wood Top Farm.  Taking a diagonal path in front of us, we walked along the paved lane for a time, before taking a shortcut through a field into Stubb Clough.

Stubb Clough 1The brook tinkled below as we crossed the bridge and ascended the stone steps.  Emerging onto Wood Hey Lane, we continued to Park Lane.  We rested on the verge with green fields behind stone walls either side, to watch new lambs gambolling and bleating.

From there we carried on until it became Nest Lane and into Mytholmroyd.  We took the quicker way back along the canal, laughing at angry geese and wondering at iron fixtures.

 

 

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtiqwfNlc8i2sm0aSUpw

 

New lambs

 

Jumble Hole (eventually)

Sloping stream 2

 

Long Causeway 3The day after our trip up to Midgeley Moor also started sunny.  We packed a picnic and caught the bus up to Blackshaw Head.  Alighting at the last stop on the Long Causeway, we walked up the road to Harley Wood Gate Farm in search of a path leading to the top end of Jumble Hole Clough.  Passing scruffy sheep and ramshackle ruins, we found a public footpath sign pointing to the farmhousei.

 

 

As we approached, a man gardening intercepted us.  I said we were looking for the marked public right of way.  He directed us round the house and through a bog!  We picked our way through tussocks and more bog, following the path first West then South.  Because it was not always clear, we made sure of the next stage of the route before continuing over each field.  Eventually we were thwarted by a fence that had been put up in front of a stile, beyond which even worse quagmires lurked.

Thwarted 1Retracing our steps, Phil managed to step into a swampy hole, soaking his sandaled feet (making me glad to have persisted in wearing sensible boots).  On the way back, I took photos as evidence of the obviously deliberate ploy to put walkers off.  I refused to cross the bog in front of the farmhouse and walked on the path through the garden.  There was no sign of the man.

We returned back down the causeway to Davey Lane.  This led easily to the clough, via Bullion Farm (Phil insisted on calling it ‘Bull Lion’ farm), the familiar stone trough, the friendly alpacas and the attractive field above the clough.

Here, we noticed some deliberately-placed stones for the first time; as if someone had started building a bridge but gave it up as a hard job.  We made use of the flat rock for our picnic.

White anemones 3It had become rather windy.  We took the steps down, bedecked with yellow flowers, and crossed the sloping stream into the sheltered clough.  At Staups Mill, two couples stood around chatting, hampering our photography.

Further down the clough the tree line opposite resembled clouds as they sprouted new growth.  We took a path down on the left to the small clapper bridge, pausing to admire wood anemones.

 

Ruined hovel with bluebellsWe then climbed up to the ruined hovels and imagined the grim lives of those who once dwelt there.  With careful footing, we found our first bluebells of the year and an excellent crop of wild garlic to pick.

As we rested on a nearby wall, mist appeared across the valley.  The air became decidedly chillier as if a storm was a-coming.

 

Keen to return to civilisation, we carried on climbing to the higher path, then South along the ridge.  When the PBW ii became steep, we veered off to the left along a smaller path edged with flowers and hawthorn blossom.  Emerging at Wood View we noted the ‘danger balsam’ sign indicating poisoning had taken place in the futile battle against the plant.  We crossed the road and metal steps onto the canal towpath, walking home fast as the air had become even more chilly.

i The next day, Marisa said she knew the dodgy path we had attempted and told us that a better route to the top of the clough could be found further up the Long Causeway.

ii   Pennine Bridleway

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtiqVW9-VESIP-IhW29g

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

Willow Gate

Boulder field 1

 

Riverside stumpMarisa and I set out on a sunny late March afternoon.  We walked along the riverside where I noted the decaying tree stump (half the size as the last time I had seen it) and several new waterfalls.  Climbing the recently-repaired steps to Midgehole Road we continued to Hardcastle Crags gate and through the upper car park to find the Willow Gate path.

 

Stone markings 1We stopped briefly in a lovely field scattered with interesting rocks and boulders, admiring the views.  Continuing up along ancient causey stones,  we noted letters carved into them.

I spotted remains of mysterious wall and imagined the buildings that once stood here.  Impressive rocks on our right resembled squares and pillars.  We then came to the famed ‘Slurring Rock’.  Marisa told me that people used to skate down it in their clogs.

 

Sheep dyed red 2We carried on through Foul Scout Wood, across a makeshift bridge and a field containing ancient gateposts.  At the hamlet of Shackleton, old barns held testament to a long history.  Sheep alarmingly dyed red shared grazing space with pheasants.

We proceeded downhill to the edge of Crimsworth Dean.  From here we took the quicker way back, turning right onto the NT track, using new-looking steps to skirt the car parks and crossed the bridge to Midgehole.

 

River with bouldersPassing The Blue Pig we waved to an acquaintance but decided to head straight to town.  We took the lower riverside path and felt the chill off the water.  Lower down, we took the left-hand side path, spotting young garlic and yellow flowers across the ‘swamp’.  Emerging onto Windsor View we walked into town,

 

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtipoWzalc3B0dRYP1SA

Slurring rock 1again taking the river path when possible.

Blackshaw Head and Rawtenstall

blackshaw-head-snowy-gate

 

Mid-January snowfall rendered the landscape picture-perfect.  While the snow looked scrappy down in the valley, we guessed it would still be sparkling ‘up tops’.  We took advantage of a sunny Saturday to plan an outing with Marisa.  Armed with coffee and cake, we caught the bus upwards and chatted to an old friend as it made its way up Heptonstall Road.  As she alighted, Marisa got on.  We continued upwards, admiring the snowy scenes in the lovely sunshine.  At Blackshaw Head we paused to look at a black and white sheep in front of a barn.  They stared back at us until they got bored.  Next to their field, we noted a beautiful old gate and tracks in the snow.

blackshaw-head-marsh-lane-4We entered the chapel grounds opposite, enjoying the feel of ‘proper snow’ under our feet before emerging onto Badger Lane.  Continuing on the now-familiar route down Marsh Lane and Winter Lane, we took in views of scudding clouds and Stoodley Pike while avoiding icy patches.

We continued along the Pennine Bridleway towards Lower Rawtenstall as far as the ‘stone doorway’, to sit on a bench overlooking the valley.

Phil commented that is was a gorgeous view of the sewage works!

 

rawtenstall-manor-2We ate our supplies before going back up to the corner where we turned right onto Dark Lane.  The way proved dodgy in places with ice, snow and mud meaning I lagged behind the others.

En route, Marisa pointed out what was once Rawtenstall Manor.

 

 

 

At the second farm along, we dropped south again onto a lovely grassy path edged by hawthorns (thus obviously pretty old).  It wended down, skirting Knott Wood, to Turret Hall Road.  I looked back to note that the shrubs created a picturesque arch over the path.  From there, we took Oakville Road down to the main road into town.  A rise in temperature meant that ice on the main routes was no longer slippy making for a speedy last leg of our journey.

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtie9MFLKWh7EzLl61IQ

rawtenstall-path-with-arch-1

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