Bradford Millennium Way #3: Silsden Bridge to White Wells 12/09/13

Self at Silsden Bridge

It's always good to have a plan for your holidays, and when you are holidaying from home you don't really have any excuses for your plans going awry, and this holiday's plan was sound, in that I had a 9 day break which would allow for 4 days of walking and 4 days of blogging. What I hadn't considered was starting the holiday week feeling run down after expending a lot of energy at work, and then having a dinner invite sent my way for Saturday evening, and as Last Night of the Proms is a regular tradition for my closest circle, as well as indicating the decline of the year, it wasn't an opportunity to be turned down. Of course, sleeping on the Sunday has me losing a second day from the schedule, and whilst fitting 4 days of walking into a possible 7 is pretty straightforward, getting in the 4 of blogging is not, as 3 of those have been burned, so what was intended as a display of walking and writing prowess, only the physical aspect has been successful, the mental aspect has let me down, and I'm still trying to force the words out more than a week after the holiday is over, and again I ponder, Why did I start writing when I honestly don't enjoy it all that much? I should go back in time and tell my June 2012 self to set up a flickr stream instead...

Bradford Millennium Way #3: Silsden Bridge to White Wells  12.9 miles

Bridge 193

There isn't a hugely pressing need to get today started at commuter hour, aside from getting an early finish to get my writing back in gear once home again, so it's 9.05am when I roll up at Silsden Bridge, and the End of Summer brings a day of low heavy cloud and generally chill feelings, along with mist hanging heavily over Nab End, and that all feels a bit too familiar as I will wind up today back on the edge of Rombalds Moor. Before any ascending of any kind though, there's a mile to me walked down the fields at the bottom of the Aire valley, so over the stiles and across Silsden beck to head downstream, and the heavy dew on the long grass conspires to soak my trousers pretty quickly as we're not quite into gaiter season. Trouble comes when my boots seem to get rapidly water-logged and I'm not half way down the first mile when I my feet are completely soaked and I'm convinced that I have suffered catastrophic boot failure, not that giving up on the day is an option, I'll just squelch onward to Howden House to join a drier surface and hope that speed my generate enough heat to get my feet dry. From Low Lane, it's then a field walk from one of the most successfully hidden stiles to rise to meet the Towpath of the Leeds & Liverpool canal, and that takes us along to the crossing at Bridge 193, and there will be no swing bridge interaction today, thankfully, instead heading up to Howden Park Farm, home to a noted poultry breeder, apparently. Continue to rise, up one of those blind ascents that hides the field corner that you are aiming for, and after worrying the sheep, you can get some views along the Aire valley and lament the fact that you still haven't walked this corner of the world on a clear day. Passing all sorts of light industrial plant parked at the field boundary and enter one of those heavily shaded lanes that leads up to Tomling Cote, before swinging out onto Silsden Golf Course, and green and white poles will guide us along the upper edge of the fairways, with glimpses of the rougher edges of Airedale peeking out from between the well-trimmed trees, and golfers must be a hardy breed to be out this early on glum day like this.

Swartha Wood Aqueduct

Off the courser at Brunthwaite Lane and ascend the road on a previously paced track, before peeling off with Nab End being tantalisingly close, but today's trail has a lot more miles in it before we'll be hitting Rombalds Moor, and we peel off into the yard of High Brunthwiate farm, which absolutely reeks of slurry and a path isn't immediately visible through the accumulated detritus accumulated around. The path is eventually located, not going anywhere near the wary-looking cows, and leading into Swartha Wood, where the trail skates downhill to the beck crossing, and giving an excellent view of the aqueduct hiding amongst the foliage, certainly another part of the watercourse that goes from Nidderdale to Bradford, previously encountered at Barden and Cottingley, and heading on through the wood, it does confirm my suspicion that every bit of carved stone tablet distributed around these parts is something to do with Bradford Waterworks. Emerge at Swartha farm, and am puzzled to find a walled garden extending across where I think the path should be, but the woman hanging out her laundry indicates to me, the correct route to the road, which is paced as far as Raikes House Farm, before we start to head away from Rombalds Moor, following the markers on a route down between walls and gorse bushes to meet an enclosed path that drops us out on the fields above Silsden. Encounter my first fellow traveller of the day, out walking his dogs and dressed for a day much fouler than this one, and the fields are paced downhill, to meet the allotments at the north east edge of Silsden, and following the path that leads down to the A6034 and I've done about three miles on the ground to cover just over a mile in a straight line, and I wonder if riding the 762 bus would be a more satisfying experience than trudging on in damp boots. Carry on, past the corner of the town where disparate suburban building and refitting has taken hold, and saying goodbye to Silsden without having made much of an acquaintance with it as I locate the path that descend sharply down to meet Silsden Beck, and ups and downs really are the theme of this trail, aren't they? Rise again beyond the stream, and the promised view of Silsden Reservoir never emerges as its hidden away by trees, and the long field walk uphill is at that particular angle that just can't be hammered down happily, so it's a bit of a grim slog uphill, but the views back into Airedale are still good, albeit overcast.

Nab End, again

The rise levels off as it crosses the rough fields around Hay Hills farm, and soon we're into the sort of rural landscape that I have mostly avoided, very much one of active farming, which doesn't really reward with its field walks, and pressing on I meet a field where harrowing is going on in full force, which makes hugging the boundary a little bit more essential. Arrive at Ivy House and find another path that has been deliberately redirected away from the farmyard and the part of my brain that did A-Level geography ponders the cost/benefit of not having people wandering through your yard, and then it's out to meet a completely different Low Lane, oddly marking the end of my ascent towards the rough pastures of Silsden Moor, some 60m too low to be considered 'high'. It's a nice spot for some changed perspectives though, as we can now view Rombalds Moor completely end on, and the rough lands of Skipton Moor and its associates looks like the edge of a vast wilderness, which, of course, it isn't, and midway along the road walk, the view changes as some high bushes are passed as Airedale retreats from view and Wharfedale arrives, so the going might not have been fun, but the views are ones that I wouldn't have had otherwise. Back into the fields to wet my drying boots again, and a bit of rough going leads down to the crossing of Foster Cliff Beck, where both stone and wood surfaces are greasily slick in the shade, and at the nearby farms, a local gardener directs me to the right path as the signage gets confusing. Another field walk leads me over the rise towards Cowburn Beck, and meeting another herd of sheep that needs to act in unison as i cross there field, all rising to view me simultaneously before rushing away, and the need to find the stream crossing is a challenge as it fails to become obvious as it hides away in the clough. It's a bit of a building site around Walton Hole farm, getting the major rebuild treatment, so the tracks have been carved up by heavy machinery for some very sticky going and ascending the driveway to Cringles road between high stone walls has me thinking that this would not be a good moment to meet any tractors or plant, and only once I've arrived at the top do I find the signs indicating a much less dangerous alternative route.



Beamsley Beacon
& the Bridleway to Wharfedale

Pacing the road, I'm not too sure where Airedale ends on the ground, but my mind has already entered Wharfedale, and finding the bridleway that leads down to Addingham, offers the best profile of Beamsley Beacon, looking like a properly mountainous edge, and that looms up in the distance as I make progress down quite the most puzzling of fields. The bridleway occupies a field about 15m wide that feels like it was laid out to be a road that never got built, or a remnant of a boundary dispute that never got resolved as land on either side was parcelled up, and to add to the fun, growing calves are grazing within it and it's good that they are feeling placid as a long and straight does not offer many options in the event of charging cows. It's all Wharfedale views now, with Addingham High Moor to the north and the changing profile of Rombalds Moor to the south, and despite having the hillside to myself, it's not all that remote as the A6034 runs only a few fields away,  and I wave to the 762, wondering how many times it has been back and forth as I've tramped over the hills. It's rough grass until about halfway down, where beyond a gate it turns to hard surface and a name, Parson's Lane, and I'm not certain if there's a farm up here that it's supposed to be serving, but we gain some slightly speedier going for a while as the Wharfedale view starts to open up and the long northern face of Rombalds Moor offers sight of White Wells for the first time, still some 5 miles distant as this day starts to feel a lot longer than I had anticipated. I'm also feeling in need of lunch, but this track offers nowhere for me to sit, and so I press on down to Crossbank Road and head up to meet the 'Roman' road to Skipton Moor and join the path that leads over the A65 and down to meet the end of Moor Lane, but as with it's treatment of Silsden, this route will be keeping away from Addingham too, detouring into Turner Lane and then driving downhill through the local recreation ground and that provides me with a much needed bench. So stop for pizza and watering, and feel mildly stressed out that the day's going is proving quite so challenging, but it's a good opportunity to take stock as to the condition of my boots, and oddly the right shows up nothing worse than some stress cracking of the leather, but the left has the sole coming loose on the inside edge right along the arch, so it looks like a professional repair job is going to be in order, and Pair of Boots #3 are not going to show the endurance that I had hoped for. >sigh<

Gildesber Farm, Addingham Moorside

Cross the B6160 and pass the allotments to descend to a secluded crossing of Marchun Beck, and then rise to make the re-crossing of the A65, and from the fields beyond offer a view of a long ascent to cross Addingham Moorside to reach the high moor, and my legs really aren't in the mood for another long ascent, but my brain isn't feeling like bailing out right now. So start the ascent grimly determined as the grass length kills my pace, but oddly doesn't affect the Cock Pheasant that runs away from me at a pace, feeling a little better when I meet the track around Coppy Hill, and some 70m have gone down when I meet the gates of Gildesber farm, which provides one of the more challenging tests I've met so far, as it seems determined to propel me back down hill as it swings open. Even on a Thursday, there seem to be no signs of life in the farmyard, which makes it feel rather eerie and airless, and I don't see where the path could lead through the yard, so take the past around the western side of the farm, which might be the correct route after all, and Gildesber farm looks pretty sizable, with at least five houses, making it bigger than some of the hamlets that I have met. Farm tracks continues uphill, towards High Brockabank, before another path redirection takes you away from a more obvious track, and as the hill crests, the view back into the emerging Upper Wharfedale panorama shows actual sunshine over Barden Moor & Fell, so maybe this glum day will have a pleasing conclusion after all. The path to High House is more level, but the imposing face of Rombalds Moor now looms into view, and my legs still don't feel like taking on the 100m of ascent that will follow, but rolling up to Moorside Lane has me feeling better that the last of the day's squeeze stiles has been crossed and tramping the road to meet the ascending path has be at once happy that the sunshine has finally burned through the cloud cover and the miserable that I will have extra heat and rays in my face as I make the day's serious ascent.

The ascent to Addingham High Moor

First section is as muddy as they come, as the path rises beside a run-off channel, but I don't really mind getting dirty at this stage in the day, and progress gets better when duckboards provide a bit of traction, before hitting the moorland grass for a rise that starts of gentle and spongy before getting a whole lot harder as it starts to steepen at the 300m contour. The path isn't well defined, and there's only the vaguest of trods to follow as it departs the wet grass and ambles into a boulder field, with the ladder stile at the top being the obvious destination some 30m further up, and getting there is hard work as the miles of the week start to play havoc on my calves, so it's a really good feeling to cross the stile and water myself as the bracken dominates the moorside. Finally meet some more walkers, as you'd expect up here, after being the only one on the path for a long while, and the steepest section beyond proves to be the easier going, as the rocky path allows you to hit a good stride, like climbing stairs, and soon enough we're among the heather and the rock outcrops on the high edge and the final pull of the last 40m is not difficult at all, probably because my leg know there won't be any more rises until the very end of the day. So even though it's not a summit, I'll kiss the cairn on the edge of Addingham High Moor and wave over to the Airedale view on the other side of Doubler Stones Allotment before heading east by as straight a route as is possible on the northern edge of Rombalds Moor, retracing a previously tramped path as far as the first division wall, passing through the musical gate, whose tubular steel pipes are being played by the wind like a flute. I'm cheerful again to enjoy the moorland walk in sunshine, as the view back up Wharfedale is always deserves some colour and it's been far too glum on some previous trips up here, and I pace on, gently descending around 50m along the edge of Addingham High Moor, picking out the previously traced paths below and watching the Wharfedale panorama evolve, and I've said it before but I do love this view so much.



The Swastika Stone

I had anticipated more rocky outcrops along here, we have to satisfy ourselves with random and entertaining gritstone boulders and some wind-blown conifers and I'll find myself at the Swastika stone after a much longer distance than I'd expected, and having failed on the last occasion I was here in 2011, I'll photograph the original rock carving and not the replica, an enigmatic marking unique to this one location in the country and only duplicated in northern Italy and of uncertain antiquity. Move on, and drift from the official route, distracted by changing camera batteries and a Jack Russell who is far too interested by the the sweaty man, and only once I'm at Black Beck do I descend to the correct, lower path just above Panorama reservoir and the edge of the development of Ilkley which devoured all of the enclosed land up to the edge of the common moor. It's a track that goes on much longer than it feel like it should, and offers no views back into the valley but looking up you have Silver Well, an incongruously located cottage within the moor, and at least two of the older houses below are of interest, one which looks like something straight out of Norman Shaw's Wealden copybook, and another with its own belvedere. Crossing Spicey Gill and Keighley Road leads to a track that disappears into the bracken, rising higher than I can see over but the final destination  of the day, is never in doubt as White Wells lurks behind its distinctive tree, and the last pull of the day leads us up to this old spa and bath house, a frustrating drag after losing over 100m of altitude along the moorland. Flags are flying to indicate that it is open for business, displaying those of the future powers of the 21st century, Brazil, China and, uh, Guinea-Bissau, but I'll settle for a heavy duty watering, and to check my timekeeping, 3.40pm and it has been a much, much longer day than I had bargained for. I'm clearly not in the best of condition despite all the physical exercise I get at work and maybe the mileage the Millennium way that I'm attempting over 4 days in 5 was actually a bit too ambitious, but it's the last day tomorrow, and easily the shortest, so I'll hold that thought as I amble down the hill into Ilkley, and ignore the fact that I'm going to have to haul myself back up here in the morning.

Next Up: The Final Corner.


1,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 846.6 miles
(2013 total: 381.3 miles)