Rombalds Moor: Steeton to Guiseley 20/07/13

Walking the High Moors of the West Riding and failing to do another traverse of Rombalds Moor would surely be an error, but having already crossed it twice this year and three times in total, does it still have a good trail to offer? A only 6 and a half miles long and 3 miles broad at its limits, you'd imagine that it would soon run short of fresh and unseen perspectives, but this is plainly incorrect as it offers an awful lot of things to see, so unlike the other moors of Lower Wharfedale which can only offer a couple of routes over their masses, Rombalds Moor can offer a whole book's worth, and the best way to get the full flavour is to walk the full length of the spine of the moor along a latitudinal route, rather than the traditional longitudinal ones. This had been intended as one of my shorter ambles, but after plotting it turns out to be my single longest walk on the High Moors so far, so it's probably for the best that this isn't another day of unrelenting sunshine and 25+C temperatures, and our first heatwave since 2006 may have passed, but the walking season certainly has not.

Rombalds Moor: Steeton to Guiseley  13.1 miles

The Nab End of Rombalds Moor

Off the train at Steeton & Silsden (of car park infamy) before 10am and gather myself for a turn under overcast skies, and from the main road, out destination point on Rombalds Moor, namely Nab End, about 250m of ascent distant is pretty obvious, but the route getting there turns out to be a bit of an odyssey. Once over the A629 and the River Aire, the trail leads along Keighley road past the Silsden Sports clubs, where it seem to be charity match day, and then to cut the corner and not pass through the town itself, a detour is taken along Belton Road where amongst the light industrial units is the most curious looking building, home of the Ecological Building Society, who are either developers of environmentally sound buildings or the world's first biodegradable money lender (probably the former). Meet Hainsworth Road and pass the fronts of the developments which back onto the canal, before the road turns to one of those enclosed country lanes that meanders its way down into Airedale whilst I acknowledge the dog walkers and the jogger with Tourette's (apparently), and look for the turn that leads up to Brunthwaite swing bridge on the Leeds & Liverpool canal. Rising to the crossing, I see that I am not going to beat a passing boat to the crossing, so will have to wait, but after a couple of minutes it becomes clear that the woman attempting to move the swing bridge is not going to manage it on her own, so I hop across the partially swung crossing to offer some extra muscle, and even with two of us pushing, it requires way more effort than it should, and the bridge then has to go back after her husband has piloted the boat through and I move on feeling like I've already used most of my ascending strength. So steps are slow for a while as I psyche myself up, taking the footpath alongside Brunthwaite Beck between golf course and electrical substation, before meeting Brunthwaite Lane and the start of the ascent to the moor.

The view into Upper Airedale

The road leads to the hamlet of High Brunthwaite and beyond is a steep field walk having covered about 120m of ascent to meet the track below Brunthwaite Crag, the largest crag in the vicinity below the edge of the high moor, but despite its size, a good view of it cannot be had from below as it's too easily obscured by the stone walls and trees. Disappointing when you deliberately came this way, but taking the look back you get a much more interesting look down into Airedale, as the western aspect shows up hills that I have barely acknowledged, with Earl Crag and Pinshaw Beacon amongst them and an optical illusion makes the course of the River Aire disappear as its path down from Skipton completely vanishes from the landscape. Also notable is the fact that Silsden is a much larger town than I'd previously noticed, and as the track to North End farm is walked, the familiar sights of Barden Moor and Upper Wharfedale sneak into the landscape. Gates need to be traversed at the farm and the helpful farm girl out on her quad bike holds attends to them for myself and the passing cyclists, and I can wonder if rural women are born with shoulders like hers or whether they are product of handling hay bales and the like. Two more fields lead up to Lightbank Lane and another 80m off the ascent, and as I trot along the road, I get a look at the activity beneath White Crag where some motorcycle trials seem to be going on, you know, the sort of thing they used to do on Kick Start. Finally arrive at Nab End, and the last 50m of ascent will be covered in about 100m of round distance, and after the roads, tracks and fields it's a proper trial to move over the dirt and exposed gritstone, one of those short distances that feel like it's never going to end, before it suddenly does and the 350m edge of Rombalds Moor has been achieved.

Addinham High Moor

A look around shows why Addingham High Moor, this particular division of the Rombalds upland, is so obvious in the landscape and its views to Wharfedale, Malhamdale and the Aire-Calder moors reveals it to be one of the great hidden viewpoints of the county. The heat gained down in Airedale is also rapidly lost as the wind that has been hidden away from the river valley hits you with full force, and shirtsleeves weather ends, and an extra layer needs to be donned. Steady going now comes on as turf is the surface of choice and the path traces the perimeter of White Crag plantation is traced and the views down into Wharfedale and the high moors on the north bank start to become dominant. The path takes a swing up the gully of Windgate Nick, and I spot more of those grooves indicative of droving descend the hillside, and I ascend to Black Hill to take a seat by the monument to the airmen killed in the crash of an RAF Mosquito in 1943, and I start to ponder that nearly every hill and moorland can claim an aircraft accident of some size. The look of the moor has largely changed to heather, and I look out towards the two long walls that delve deep into the moor, cursing the fact that I have some close to Double Stones, the only really notable wind-carved rocks on the moorland, but won't be immediately able to get over to them as I set off again, hugging the northern edge of the moor until the second long wall is met and I set off for the heart of the moor, shaded from the wind in the lea of the wall. Despite it being trackless Access Land, there's a decent trod to follow that keeps us away from any softness, not that there's a huge risk of that after all that sunshine, and the only thing to worry about is whether I will need to clamber over a wall when the two long walls meet, but thankfully a gate has been installed to prevent unnecessary clambering. Then the trail can lead us to the sub-summit at Long Ridge End with its 384m trip point, and that offers a good look back into Upper Wharfedale, and from there the trail will fluctuate over a height of 40m for the next couple of miles.


Crawshaw Moss & the Buck Stones

Onwards over the plateau, still cleaving close to the wall, as it moves alongside the perimeter of the High Moor Plantation, which looks like it is starting to be felled extensively, and after a while we hit a much firmer track, which eventually leads us over the wall onto Ilkley Moor, and soon becomes a paved track to cross the boggy land of Crawshaw Moss, again not really necessary in recent climatic conditions. As I go, I note that my spring obsession with bluebells has lapsed to be replaced with a summer fascination for cottongrass, and the field here is pretty epic, as the wind has blown loose flax from the plants causing it to coat absolutely everything in a white shroud, from heather to thistles, I'm sure it would look even more attractive in the sunshine. A modest ascent to the outcrops at West Buck Stones follows, and it's here I'd stop for lunch, if I'd brought any, but instead pause for watering and admire the carved boundary marker, and take in the view south which has finally re-emerged, and I note the one previously un-acknowledged hill in the landscape, namely Lad Law, over the border in Lancashire and whilst not all that remote, frustratingly difficult to get to. Carry on along the central ridge to more outcropping at East Buck stones (naturally), and than close back up to the wall for the long level haul to Whetstone Gate, meeting the first walkers on the central ridge along the way, and as the track over the moor is met, some motorcyclists seem to be using the long flat top of Ilkley Road for a spot of drag racing, and from this distance, it looks like they are having an absolute blast. Continue past the wireless station, and the gravel track turns to paving slabs again as the long marshy top of the moor is met, and when the wind drops it is as peaceful as you could wish for, but there are a few more walkers along here to lose me some solitude, including a old shirtless guy, with obvious un-tanned crescents of skin beneath his moobs. More gritstone boulders are to be found at Thimble Stones, and by the track is the Puddle Stone, part of the Stanza Stones trail from Marsden to Ilkley, not on my walking slate as my friend MW walked it last year and gave it a better write-up than I could manage, and I'll come out as a philistine for liking Simon Armitage's non-fiction writing much more than his poetry.


The Summit of Rombalds Moor

Not much further along, and we hit the summit of Rombalds Moor and the trig point had been hiding against the sky, and the 402m marker is met for the second time in my walking life, but coming from the opposite direction this time, and there's not a huge reason to pause here but I stop to water as the Curlews, Dunlins and Lapwings fly overhead and I pick out the surrounding features on the horizon, all previously described so move on, nonetheless wondering, didn't there used to be a cairn up here?. The paved track to the edge of Ilkley Moor hasn't gotten any quicker than it was when it was mere dirt and it strikes me again as one of the longer half-miles on the map, but soon passed are Lanshaw Lad and the Twelve Apostles, and down onto Burley Moor we go as the track starts the slow descent off the high moor. It's all a bit featureless for a while, but I am ridiculously happy to meet some actually flowering heather, showing purple blooms and not just that brown-ness that appears purple from distance, and then location finding gets a bit complicated as whilst the path remains obvious, the reservoir to the north is easily mistaken as my map shows it dry whilst in reality, High Lanshaw reservoir is plainly in water. The location becomes more apparent when Lower Lanshaw reservoir appears, and the track gains an even better surface, which must be an access route for the water company. Skirting the next outcrop we meet an incongruously placed shed, which offers no indication of purpose so I'll assume its either the county's most rustic shooting hut, or the least welcoming refreshment stand. Continuing the descent, the map tell me that the Great Skirtful of Stones is nearby, and whilst I know that is an ancient structure on the moor, I have no idea what it looks like so I'm probably looking for something bigger than it is, when the reality is little more than a heather-coated lump. I do think I've been clever and spotted some tumuli by the track, but they are actually grouse butts overgrown with vegetation, and not ancient at all.

Carr Bottom Reservoir

The moorland terrain turns back to grass below the 350m contour and Carr Bottom Reservoir presents itself as the last in the runoff from Burley Moor and displays easily the largest dam of the trio, but it puzzling appears to be mostly empty and I didn't think we were that close to drought yet. The descending path gives a good view over the Greater Leeds conurbation and I try to pick out my conclusion point, but am mostly stumped by what I see in the local landscape, as only the hills and the profile of Otley Chevin seem immediately familiar until i pick out the spiky Gothic tops of High Royds hospital and know that I want to be somewhere beyond there. Emerging down onto rough grazing land marks the end of Rombalds Moor, and the flurry of criss-crossing paths has me surprised by the number of the ugly metal fingerposts painted in green and white, as all these weeks in the National Park had gotten me used to ones constructed in wood. Sheep have to be shooed away to negotiate a couple of stiles and a pathside ruin has me again speculating idly about developing my own walking base in the country again. The farmstead at Heather Bank marks my re-emergence in civilisation and i need to regain my wits rapidly after the hours of solitude as I've got no choice but to engage a road walk, and the local traffic seems to have mistaken Hillings Lane for Brands Hatch. Vehicles tear past at a frightening speed as I do my level best to stay outside the white line, and I've at least got a clear view as I walk against the oncoming traffic, but things get harder as I turn onto Bingley Road as that lacks even a narrow verge space and has the most horrifying blind corner to negotiate, and I seriously see my walking career coming to an ignominious end here. Survive Bingley Road and dive onto fields to head towards Guiseley with relief, and it would have been quicker to make for Menston, but I'm in need of dinner and that town won't scratch that particular itch, so the path is joined that leads around the grounds of High Royds Hospital, which never really shows its best face, and now it's being redeveloped into residential use I wonder who would really want to live in the former West Riding Pauper Lunatic Asylum?


The Wetherby Whaler

We're close to our finish point, but the track I follow makes me feel like I'm pretty remote from anywhere and the gorse and moorland plants above hawksworth quarry make me feel like we're wandering onto a moor that I don't know about. The track stays away from that though, instead going around the pleasingly ancient High Royds Hall, and passing the oddest ruin/barn combination before following the field boundary to Thorpe farm, these days a mini office park, and then to Thorpe Lane which lacks a footpath despite being residential, and instead we are lead down through the trees on the footpath leading to the A65 as I try again to get a look towards High Royds Hospital. I smell my destination long before I see it, and it's a joyous scent to be sure, I speak of course of the Wetherby Whaler at White Cross, known to everyone as the original Harry Ramsden's (as an aside, the owners of that brand closed it as 'unprofitable', thus demonstrating that they have no sense of history and are only in for the money which is appropriate as their brand is one over the most ghastly purveyors of utter crap on this blue-green Earth). I'll be grabbing a take out as I stink too bad for the restaurant, and even at 4.10pm the place is busy enough and ten minutes inside among the fat friers is enough to make me feel like passing out, so the staff must be made of sterner stuff than me. It would be cutting it fine to eat before dashing for the 4.54 train, so head down Otley Road at the hurry up, identifying the former tram depot and passing the Guiseley Sports clubs before rolling up at the railway station to crash with my fish and chips, and was it worth it to walk that extra mile for food? You had better believe it was, as it hits all the right spots and others that I hadn't thought needed it, and don't worry about me having run out of routes on Rombalds Moor either, I've still got at least four more to put down on future Bank Holidays!


Next on the Slate: A symbolic walk out of Wharfedale.

EDIT: Nah, not happening, far too much threat of rain and thunderstorms for wandering onto Skipton Moor this weekend, and anyways, I'm still feeling hungover from my first session in a goodly while, and I'm NIW, so there's no immediate need to push it!

So, Next on the Slate: Taking a ride 100 miles downhill for my first walks in the Old Country.


1,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 733.5 miles
(2013 total: 268.2 miles)