With the end of the walking season approaching fast, it becomes important to get the long excursions off the slate as quickly as possible as a long walking day needs a guarantee of decent weather and sufficient daylight to get to the finish line before being surrounded in gloom. So late September is the last point in the year to make an attempt of 16+ miles, and that's the fourth time that I'll be topping that figure this year, the magic number that says 'this is a long way', and I do wonder why I have left it so late in the year to go from Colne to Calder, and how I've not been to Marsden in a whole year when I still have an all-areas Metrocard. You'd never imagine just how difficult it is fitting in all your walking targets, even when you go for the whole summer without taking any time out from the schedule, so it looks like I'm not going to fit in more than a couple of walks in this area before my right to 'free' travel expires, and next year I'll have to return to travelling with cash in my pocket, or learning the dark art of rural bus travel. Onwards, anyway, as I've got a weather projection of clear skies, prolonged sunshine and minimal risk of rain, so hopefully it's only the wind coming from the north-east that will provide the only climatic challenge of the day.
Marsden to Hebden Bridge, via Close Moss, White Hill, Blackstone Edge, Warland Moor
& Stoodley Pike 16.5 miles
 |
| Close Gate Bridge |
A Long Day requires an early start, so off the train a Marsden at 8.45am, and the day does not look promising as a heavy mist hangs on the surrounding hills and you remember that even nice days in the Autumn can take several hours to get going, so that doesn't bode well for the initial stretches of the day. Immediately set out along the route walked the last time that I was here, pacing the canal path of the Huddersfield Narrow up to Standedge Tunnel, before peeling off to meet the road at the Tunnel End Inn, and then along Waters Road, past the last ribbon of houses of Marsden and wondering if I should be walking the path on the other side of the roadside ditch, which looks like a much more attractive path than this one. Find a way on to it, eventually, once sure that it is going the same way as I am, and it's pleasing stroll by the river that appears to be the Colne, which I thought rose to the south of here, and pass some resting walkers and their dogs (a bit early for that?) before rising back to the road and passing an appealing remote terrace of house and the site of the Hey Green Generator, the first hydro-electric working in the Colne Valley, as the blue plaque informs me. Past the hotel and the last house in the valley and the path moves back to the riverside into a appealing little glade. This runs us along to the end of the cultivated land, and the edge of the moorland, crossing the packhorse bridge at Close Gate, where the becks running off the moor officially form the Colne, and steel myself to depart the hospitable climes at the 200m contour, and start the sharp rise by Stonepit Clough to attain the moorland, and after passing a local dog walker on his way down, I'm going to have the moor of Close Moss to myself. It's a well-ground track through the long grass, which is just as well as the mist is pretty dense, offering no real indications to any of the higher hills surrounding the area, and I would feel like I were surrounded by a featureless grey horizon it it wasn't for the Colne Valley offering the slightest relief behind me, not that it's much use going forwards, but thankfully it isn't cold, and the threatened wind is not making its presence felt.
 |
| Wlmer Green Clough |
Pass the 300m contour after crossing Willykay Clough, and that beck will loiter to my left as I press on over the moor, attaining another 70m of altitude without feeling it at all, passing way markers carved with 'P.H Road' (which means nothing to me), lapsing over a couple of flagged sections and getting indication of March Haigh reservoir hiding in the mist off to the north. Cross over Willmer Green Clough, and the ascent away from the beck becomes much more obvious, passing through the only horribly marshy section before rising up the hillside named Broad Wham on the map, passing over the 400m contour and getting no view whatsoever as I look back across Close Moss, so I think that I could walk this path again in the future and get a completely different experience. Cresting the hill marks my first interaction with the English Watershed as the Stream at Haigh Gutter flows to the West, and this point also has me joining the Pennine Way again, and I do seem to be interacting with it a lot this last couple of years, which will be my route for most of today and also get momentary sight of civilisation again, crossing the A640, one of those remote trans-Pennine routes which carries very little traffic and has only a couple of cyclists coming over in the whole time that I can see (or hear) it. The signs by the road indicate that we are on the edge of Saddleworth district, and head back to moorland for the ascent to meet the fence that separates Yorkshire and Lancashire, and again into the fog that sits atop Rape Hill, our first high point of the day, but offering no views in any direction, though there is a small tarn and another solitary man, and we give each other the solo walker nod of acknowledgement. Crest over the 450m contour, and feel the wind coming over strong, which has the benefit of breaking the cloud cover, to give some moments of sunshine, descending across the watershed to the catchment of streams above Readycon Reservoir to the west, before rising to exit the National Trust's Marsden Moor Estate that has been our territory since joining the moor at Close Gate Bridge, and to also enter the county of Lancashire, and I haven't even brought my passport!
 |
| White Hill |
The heavy mist breaks up as the rise continues, so sunlight can be felt, along with the sharpest of winds, but still don't get views as haze covers the wrinkles of Lancashire and the landscape of Yorkshire to the East is still buried in cloud, so it's all feeling pleasingly remote as I make the way up to the top of White Hill, probably named to differentiate it from the hills with dark peat and/or soot covered rocks, a pleasing top of light moorland grass with a border fence and the 466m trig point providing the only shelter from the wind. The breaking cloud does finally give me some ability to orientate myself, as a telephone mast to the north provides a distinctive point in the distance and I realise that i am on the edge of Moss Moor, the expanse that you'll recognise from any trip across the M62, and it's not much further on from the high point that the sound of the motorway becomes apparent, that familiar roar of distant traffic. The descent from White Hill crosses the Yorks-Lancs border a couple of times, with a gate to pass through the fence each time, and the very presence of a physical boundary amuses me more than it should, and it's a long walk down to meet the crossing at the A672, another trans-Pennine route, between Ripponden and Denshaw that at least has some use despite the proximity of the motorway. Pass the first notable walking group going south as I arrive at the border post, marking the ancient edges of Milnrow and Rishworth, and this border is marked with a particularly grotty lay-by and a rather excellent boundary stone. The view over Moss Moor is still shrouded in mist, but the M62 provides a changing aspect as I strike out past the telephone mast and head to the motorway crossing that runs over the deep cutting where the road dives down into Lancashire, it's a bridge that bounces rather too much as you go, and I wave to the motorists passing below, just to ensure they know that this bridge does get used. Rise away on the opposite side, onto the edge of Rishworth moor, before arriving in Lancashire again, descending into the peaty upper reaches of Longden End Brook, a completely different kind of soil that is dark and waterlogged, extremely unfriendly for walking on so I'm glad that someone has coughed up for flagstones to be laid across it, which ensures safe progress for both walker and cyclist.
 |
| Blackstone Edge |
Away from the boggy awfulness and ascend to Blackstone Edge, which I know is noted for its soot-coated Gritstone outcrops and my ascent and arrival is mostly occupied by wondering if they are going to provide some fun shapes to photograph. Initial views are disappointing, and I wonder if the distant rocks are all they are cracked up to be, whilst my attention wanders towards Green Withens reservoir, hiding away in the mist that still covers the catchment of the River Ryburn, but catching sight of some nicely striated boulders has me feeling more hopeful. Moving to the higher plateau and closer to the western edge has the full flavour of the hill becoming apparent, with outcrops hanging on the boundary and an extensive boulder field stretching below, and rockiness covers the entire upland, which keeps the going interesting, though views towards Littleborough and Rochdale are completely lost to haze, only the outlines of distant reservoirs are really discernible. Move on to the top, where the boulders are still blackened by centuries of industrial pollution, and the highest outcrops draw me closer but I won't be climbing to the 472m trip point as it would involve a leap up onto a boulder that I wouldn't feel to good about getting off again, so err to caution. It's good to see numerous other people up here, as it's a modest distance from roads in both directions and a good picnic spot, but it's too early for lunch, I'll instead move on, taking the path that leads below the edge of the outcrops as it heads north so I might get more flavour of the gritstone under the autumn sunshine, still jagged and rough after all that wind-weathering, and harsh against both boots and hands as I make my way on, hoping that I'm not on a track that will get me lost. A return to the well-trod path is easy enough, and the profile of Blackstone Edge from the north is clearly the superior one, though ruined by the sun placement, and I take interest looking back as I roll up at the Aggin Stone, a properly medieval way-marker, and from here I take the seemingly obvious route north, not realising that I have just crossed the 'Roman' road that is the correct path. I'm well off-piste once I realise the error, but don't go back, instead keeping on to the north-west and with an eye on the moor edge knowing that a descent down must come eventually, and I follow the pair of walkers ahead of me, but I think they might have been as lost as I was. Descend into disused quarry workings and the path down to the moorland drain is obvious, so that's a short stretch of the Pennine Way misplaced, but from there we meet the track down to the A58, and amazingly that's the halfway point already.
 |
| Warland Reservoir |
No need to feel like bailing here as I'm in fine fettle, but hot food or beer at the White House would be tempting, as it is the only hostelry on this trail, but press on up to the dam of Blackstone Edge reservoir, and I'm once again in familiar territory, having travelled this way numerous times, but it's mildly amazing that this is the first time that I have walked out here. The waters of the reservoir look distinctly choppy as the wind continues to blow off Rishworth Moor, and the North-West water access road leads me all the way along the embankment before the path swings around the hillside to find some useful shelter from the wind, following the drain along the 385m contour towards a very obvious outcrop. Views down into the valley do not reward with landmarks, though I know that Summit and the Rochdale canal must be down there somewhere below Chelburn Moor, and the hazy view over Rossendale has me wanting to wander further that way, though it is inconvenient for my sort of ambling, and roll up at the outcrop to discover that this is the Rain Stone, another feature of the Stanza Stones trail, which gives me some poetry to absorb before I seek a sunny and secluded spot to take my lunch, where I can count the pylons as they stride purposefully down the hill before they vanish into the mist of the valley. Move on to the edge of Light Hazzles reservoir, heading on along its embankment and thinking that it appears to be dry, until the view changes and it is revealed to be maintained at much lower than its capacity. The reservoirs up here were originally built as water supply for the Rochdale Canal, so their subsequent conversion to domestic supply and the re-opening of the canal has led to all manner of problems, and note that most moorland reservoirs such as this and Warland, its huge neighbour, have very long dams to retain them, as it must have been easier to construct a half-mile long embankment than to dam up a narrow valley. It's a long and windy track along this pair of dams, which eventually lead back into Yorkshire, and my attention wanders to the outcrops on the trackless moors above, and to the valley below, still bereft of familiar points, and it's a major relief when a stone wall appears at the embankment edge as the wind drops suddenly, making breathing 200% easier.
 |
| Stoodley Pike from Warland Moor |
Rise from the edge of Warland reservoir, to follow the drain that leads out over Warland Moor, and catching sight of Stoodley Pike causes my brain to go to the pub as it thinks it is in the home stretch, it's some way distant of course, and you can have fun with perspectives that allow for the optical illusion of moving the monument onto different hill tops. Still, Calderdale appears to the west and Withens Clough to the East, and path moves out to the high ridge that separates them, and I'm once again grateful for some flags to walk on, and i consider that the people who pioneered the Pennine way must have been hardier souls than I. It's a long walk down from Coldwell Hill to Withens Gate, and much wetter than I'd expected, but It's mice to be back among the moorland grass and boulders after many miles on hard surfaces, plus I'm back on familiar walking territory, looking down to Todmorden and Mankinholes on one side and Withens Clough reservoir on the other, and it looks like someone is giving Red Dykes farm the Grand Designs treatment that I had planned for it. The pull up to Stoodley Pike is also a long further than it looked, that's my sense of distance slipping again, passing that overly tall waymarker and rising above some quarried rocks and confirming just how Martian the hills to the south can look from this angle. It's surprisingly easy to lose the firm path, odd when going in such an obvious direction, and the map also seem confused about where the path actually resides, but we are now high enough to get a view over the high moors to the north, and to Great Manshead on the east, which has to be the other immediate target in the Colne & Calder bracket. Once again, we are onto a well trodden path, and the good citizens are out to enjoy Calderdale now that the mist and haze has dissipated, and I'll nab myself a quite corner at the base of the obelisk to enjoy a lengthy snacking break, only being interrupted by a whippet that really thinks I must have something for her in my bag. Soak in the scenery and surroundings for a while before finally giving myself a proper time check and deciding that my finish point in Hebden Bridge shouldn't be more than an hour and a half distant, and start off down towards Dick's Lane (
'Dicks'), and is that the first stretch of the Pennine Way that I have walked twice?
 |
| The descent to Hebden Bridge |
So 100m downhill pretty quickly from Stoodley Pike, leaving the high moor behind, on a path that just cannot be hurried, but it's massively preferable to the one that goes off the hillside to the west, even if it seems a bit rough for England's premier long distance trail. Cross the Pennine Bridleway near Swillington Farm and then it's on over the fields, past the lone man doing drystone-walling, and over a flagged path through a rough field below the hill of Edge End moor to meet the path down to Lower Rough Head and onto the farm track randomly littered with rural debris. The views back look disappointingly similar to the ones I had last November as Calderdale takes on autumnal shading with the low sun putting the views into relief, and I figure that I really need to come this way in the flush of spring or the height of summer. The sight of the Church in Heptonstall across the valley indicates that we are still at altitude, and the descent starts as the track enters the upper reaches of Callis wood, providing shade from the suddenly warm sun and subdued winds, and go as far as the point that the Pennine Bridleway descends roughly from a hairpin corner down to a heavily shaded beck crossing. The track rises to follow the edge of the wood, and I'm happy to see kids out cycling this track, and do my good deeds by attending the gates for them, allowing them to pelt along to their hearts content, and then the descent resumes as another cobbled country lane is met, which soon steepens as it offers views to Colden Clough and Wadworth Moor, with Heptonstall between. The road turns to tarmac for the section that offers the double-arrowed steepness indicator, and this might be the best route to arrive into Hebden Bridge from the south as the vista changes as you go, starting off high above the rooftops and chimneys and eventually ending 120m lower at Bridge 18 on the Rochdale canal. This is a track that has now been trod multiple times, heading on past the cycle shop and alternative tech centre, over the Calder Aqueduct and past Lock 9, and over the canal into Calder Holmes Park. Always good to see a park where all human life is present, and it really feels like half of Hebden Bridge's under-20s are out to enjoy the last twitches of Summer. Rise to cross the Calder again, completing the trek from Colne to Calder and roll up at the railway station just as the 16.01 train rolls in, and I've only just got time to conclude the day by striking my pose by the station sign before boarding my ride home.
Next on the Slate: Pen-y-ghent (before Autumn comes on strong)!
1,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 880.3 miles
(2013 total: 415 miles)
No comments:
Post a Comment