Tag Archives: summer

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

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtir4RnkqYMuT9ujJ4LA

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 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

Discovering Midgley Moor Archaeology i

moor-path-1

On a bright and warm August Bank holiday Monday, we armed ourselves with pies and pop and set off to meet our friends M&M.  We spotted them outside the pub, enjoying a pre-walk tipple.  I shouted ‘oi!’.

A bit early for us to start drinking, we walked through the thronging town centre in the glorious sun, and awaited them at the bus stop.  Marisa appeared first, having dashed round charity shops looking for a cardigan.  Mike arrived soon after and stood smoking under a tree like the enigmatic poet.  As the bus climbed up Birchcliffe, we talked about the routes we planned to take and the archaeology we hoped to see.  Mike filled our heads with stories of people on acid discovering stone circles and Robin Hood being a giant.

At Lane Ends, Phil and I said goodbye and alighted.  M&M were taking a longer route across the moor than us, starting at Crimsworth Dean: we planned to meet back at the pub early evening.

We walked up Popples Lane.  An old farmer who looked a 100 years old greeted us as he emerged from a barn (I later discovered he was a proper local character who lived in the barn and spent his days carrying out ancient farming tasks; likely been there his entire life!)

As we turned a bedick-ing-2nd the lane became Latham Lane.  The sign for ‘Dick Ing’ created mirth.  The lane wound and climbed in a picturesque fashion up to another farm.

A sizeable track led upwards to the Calderdale Way.  We went through the gate onto Midgley Moor.  Admiring the vistas, we followed the path along the moor edge and onwards to the middle.

Finding ourselves on smaller paths, we were unsure of our next move but at such a high vantage point, confident of our location in relation to local settlements. I caught glimpses of a path at right angles in the distance.  We made our way towards this wider path, stopping to examine small huts (working out eventually they were grouse hides) and to gaze at square stone structures in the distance (vent shafts for the aqueducts carrying water under the moor).

greenwood-stone-1Eventually turning right, we progressed through fading purple heather and navigated the odd boggy spot.  A few yards off the path to our left, we noticed a moor pond and a standing stone some way behind.

We picked our way with caution through the heather to reach ‘Greenwood Stone’ ii.  This seemed a suitable juncture for lunch.

Working out that Miller’s Grave iii was nearby, we headed towards it.  Along the slightly bigger paths amongst the heather, we came across a large boulder (the fabled Robin Hood’s Pennystone iii).  From there, we could see a pile of stones further on and knew we had located the next object of our quest – Miler’s Grave iv.  On reaching the monument I circumnavigated; ill-advised perhaps as some of the outer stones proved unstable.

robin-hoods-pennystone-4We expected that retracing our steps back to the larger path would be straightforward as we just had to head for the large boulder then the standing stone.

Alas, the latter had disappeared from view!  However, we were fairly certain of our direction and continued.

Phil decided to take a cleared part which looked easier but dry, dying heather hampered our progress.  Eventually, we espied the Greenwood Stone again and made towards it.

En route, we noticed a ‘white stick of archaeology’ next to a sunken boulder and took another diversion to investigate.  We found what was obviously a stone circle (the one discovered on acid maybe?)  We also spotted other boulders a way off.  I wondered if they formed part of a larger stone circle, but Phil thought that unlikely.  Eventually finding our way back via the standing stone and the mill pond onto the main path, we walked southwards, again fairly sure of where it would lead.  After a short distance, we spotted the top of another standing stone and guessed that was our destination.

Sure enough as we approached, we recognised Churn Milk Joan v.  We stopped to see if anyone had left any money on top.

I texted Marisa to learn that they were already near the pub.  They must have walked at a fair lick!  I also texted another friend who aimed to meet us for a drink. churn-milk-joan-2

We turned Westwards along the ridge, back onto the Calderdale way, pausing occasionally to take in the views down towards the valley and across to strange white sheeting that looked like a ski slope on Scout Rock (ongoing post-flood work).  A grouse emerged squawking from the brush, making me jump.  We went through an attractive exit gate and started our descent towards civilisation.

 

only-foods-and-saucesAt the Mount Skip Golf Club, we considered continuing on the path and finding a trackway down to Old Town.  Mud and horned sheep made us reconsider this option.

Instead we descended a bank and over a stile onto the fairway.  We noted patches of long grass and grazing birds, and laughed at a warning sign on hole 12.

Going onto the driveway we picked our way across a cattle grid and down onto Heights Road.

We looked at old ruins and the ‘only sauce and horses’ trailer in a dilapidated farmyard, whilst bemoaning the lack of a short cut to the Hare and Hounds.

At the pub, we went round the back to find M&M in the beer garden, sitting at a table adorned with blue eggs.  We enjoyed the early evening sun and compared notes on our respective walks. I showed Mike my photos and he confirmed the archaeological landmarks we had found.  Feeling hungry, we asked about food at the bar.  A harassed landlord told us they had a limited menu due to heavy traffic, and the kitchen was shutting at 7.30.  We hastily ordered burgers.

Our other friend arrived and we all chatted amiably until M&M departed to walk back to town.  As the sun set it became chilly.  We retreated indoors until it was time for the next bus.  The bus route took us up to Crimsworth Dean before going down again.  We gazed out at the late summer evening sky, resplendent with reds and blues, whizzing past the windows.

 

exit-gate-2

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtiMBDZud5pUyX0kJ6CA

Notes

  1. http://midgleywebpages.com/midgleywest.html – general info on Midgely Moor pre-history
  2. https://megalithix.wordpress.com/2011/11/07/greenwood-stone/ – Greenwood Stone
  1. https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1018236 – Miller’s Grave
  2. https://megalithix.wordpress.com/2010/09/06/churn-milk-joan/ – Churn Milk Joan

 

Peace and Tranquility in Slack and Colden

harvest

A mid-September Sunday, we caught the bus upwards.  Alighting at Slack Top, crows, horses and harvesting added to the pastoral scene.  Behind the fields, the church tower peeked out amid the tree line, as if it was growing out of the hills.  .

vanishing-point-1We crossed the road to examine the milestone and interesting signs.

Walking through Popples Common, we marvelled at strange carved stones and at the view towards the vanishing point, redolent of the mid-west.

 

 

As we reached the brow, we turned up Crack Hill (with inevitable chuckles!) and walked along Edge Lane, enjoying the tranquil scenes with grouse in a field, old ruins and gate posts.

mays-shop-8At May’s Farm Shop we bought cheese pies to eat on the picnic bench outside.

I strolled around the farm buildings and snuck in the old cow shed to look at ancient stalls and interesting junk.

We then backtracked along Edge Lane until we came to a sign pointing down towards ‘Pennine Way’ and ‘Hebble Hole’.

wooden-gate-2The path looked very old and narrow, edged with dressed stone, wooden fence posts and rickety gates.  We crossed Colden road once more and continued following the signs.

This took us over gates and styals, round the side of a large house and down through more fields.

 

 

We arrived at a flight of steep small steps.  Water and mud made them potentially treacherous.  Descending carefully, we emerged just above the bridge at Hebble Hole.  Traversing the bridge, we had the glade to ourselves for once.  We sat peacefully, admiring trees and reflections in the water – like fairyland.  We then crossed back over the bridge and took the familiar quick route home through the clough.

More photos at: https://1drv.ms/f/s!AjkK19zVvfQtiM1othXhKZcNEcrHJA

trees-with-reflections-2

 

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