If I hadn't planned to head over into Lancashire for this weekend, I'd almost certainly have spent all of it in bed, as my activities last weekend left me feeling like my battery was almost completely flat after 5 days of work, and mix that in with far too many nights of restless sleep and agonising pains in my neck, and heading to Bolton for a weekend with My Sister's family seems like a very poor idea. However, September is Completion Month, and I had planned for this visit for nearly two months so such considerations need to be cast aside as this is the last opportunity for the weather to still look decent as I make for the hill that has been on my target list for all of the last two seasons, always proving an elusive goal. Younger Niece needs to get up a hill under her own power too, as Elder got out with us last year, and whilst they have both done more physical activity in the intervening time than I managed in my entire childhood, Younger is still to achieve a summit without being carried and she's now at a similar age to when Elder topped the Coniston Old Man. So cast aside the physical problems, gather yourself some fortitude and let's get on the shortest of trails for a Saturday afternoon, not walking a recognised long distance path for the first time since July, and that means the first trip in nine without the reader having to look at my grinning mug as they read of my exploits here.
Pendle Hill, from Barley 4.2 miles
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| Pendle Hill, from Barley |
The immediately discovered truth is that Pendle Hill, and our start point in Barley, is not really that local to Bolton at all, being closer to Skipton, Keighley and Todmorden, but it's hill to associate with Lancashire rather than as an appendage to the Aire & Calder moors, so it makes sense to start out from that side, even if you have to drive out of the West Pennines and across the East Lancs valley to get there, and did you know that if you back translated its name of Old English, it would be called 'Hill Hill Hill'? That's one to digest as the five of us head out for a post lunch outing, my Sister having assured me that we would not need an early start on this one, and we arrive at the deeply secluded outdoor activities hotspot of Barley to get a start out from the Cabin at 1.10pm, with my Nieces heading off into the village at a pace, showing an enthusiasm for the fray that is rarely seen when discussing plans back home. Pass the Pendle Inn, proudly displaying the fact that we are in the heart of Witch Country, the infamy of the outbreak of cultural mass hysteria in the 17th century still being the major claim of this district, and the village is soon left behind, as the Pendle Way path is met and followed out towards the bulk of the hill which rises some 300m above, already looking a challenging prospect, and naturally it has been decided that we will be going up the sharp end for the steepest possible ascent. Early going is good, ideal for me in my uninspiring condition, following a stream up to the lane that runs to Ing End farm, with a rising path beyond which finally displays the full mass of the hill, a huge, isolated outcrop of gritstone rearing up to make the unsteady walker feel overawed, which doesn't bode well for me, whilst my nieces are still tearing up a pace, not feeling put off by the gloom or light drizzle that starts to fall on us as takes us around Brown House and Ing Head farm, and on above the 300m contour.
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| Slogging the Ascent |
Gaining altitude gives us a good panorama as we ascend, but there's enough haze in the air to make the views all the way back to the Aire valley particularly indistinct, not helped by the lump of Wheathead height being the dominant landscape feature in the foreground, and once the path meets the edge of a Christmas tree plantation on the rise to Pendle House Farm, I feel my pace dropping off as the rest of the folks power on ahead of me. After a break for Scooby Snacks, needed more by me than anyone else, the serious ascent starts, angling across the rough fields and passing to high moorland altitude before we hit the steep path that rises at what feels like a 40 degree angle all the way to the north east tip of the hill. It's not the sort of angle that is easy on the ankles, and the stone steps make it particularly hard to put weight on the heels as you go, I'm soon dropped again as younger and more well tuned legs bound off without restraint, whilst I toil as me heart leaps into my throat and my legs flush with lactic acid, every step is a test and I start to wonder if I'm going to make it to the top at all, clearly I've got a post-illness, or post Kirklees Way, fatigue issue weighing me down. I try to keep the spirits up with landscape spotting, but I'm struck by just how little I know the East Lancs valley and how unfamiliar the western face of the Pennines looks, the Boulsworth Hill - Lad Law upland is obvious, but the rest of it is easily misidentified, and this is an area that I would have to holiday in to get familiar with, as it's too damned inconvenient to visit from Yorkshire. What seems like hours of toil later, I finally catch up to the rest of the family, sat chilling out having done 90% of the climb already, and they are all right as rain, with an 8 and 6 year old looking much better than their 1,000 mile walking uncle.
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| Attaining the Summit |
It's a great feeling when the sun starts to break through, and before the last push, this is where I should be able to regale the girls with tales of my exploits in all the distant hills to the north, but unfortunately, the rain and gloom has headed off in that direction, so there's not a single point on the Aire valley or Dales fringe that I could point out with any certainty. The boundless energy of the little ones carries them on swiftly to the moorland plateau, followed by me a few minutes later, as the sharp tip of the hill is met, revealing a spectacular view over the Forest of Bowland, the remote and population free wilderness that I have never visited at all (also, not a forest, all lit up like I'd hoped the Yorkshire view might be, and as we are at 540m up, the wind bites pretty hard, the first significant breeze that I have felt since I was on the Whin Sill a month ago. It's only another 17m to the summit, distant across the dark flat moor top, which my sister's family attains long before me as Younger Niece tears it up to be first to the top of the hill, completely unprompted just like Elder did on her hill walk last year, and its a huge relief to get there myself, finally striking it from the list after too many months of waiting, and just making it at all after the agony I experienced myself a mere quarter hour previously. It's not a spot where we are going to linger though, as the wind stings cold, so we don't even stop for a celebratory snack or watering, only pausing long enough to stitch together a cloud shrouded panorama before starting on the route back to base. I guess we'll have to try to hit it early on a winter morning so that all the distant hills and ridges can be shown up in sharp relief, the sort of trip that often gets planned for but never gets done, and we've had that particular experience before anyway, on Scout Scar, near Kendal, on Christmas Day 2000, but I do get the feeling I will be coming this way again, as this hill deserves to feature on a longer walk,
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| Running the Descent |
The route back sets off along the eastern edge of the hill, keeping the familiar side in view at all times, and this long steep edge could easily distract you from the fact that there is a lot more moorland up here than you would think when viewing the hill from its eastern face, definitely big enough to get lost on with various cloughs dividing it up a ways that could be confusing to the uninitiated. The long descent from the summit cap takes a while to get below the 450m contour, taking us past the short route back down to Pendle House and also missing the Pendle Way route that descends via Boar Clough, and this gives the girls a fine opportunity to do some fell running, they are both ridiculously energetic and can hit the jets at a moments notice, tearing down the hillside and not even getting fearful as the path steepens. Consider that I rarely get above a pace of brisk walk and kill the speed when ever the ground starts to get uneven, and I guess that their fearlessness must come with being much closer to the ground, and being more or less impervious to bumps and falls, or maybe it's due to them having a fair share of Dr G's genes? It certainly ensures that the descent is swift, racing towards the cleft of Ogden clough with the pair of reservoirs cut into it, coming off the access land at about 380m and ploughing on down through the long grass behind a farmstead that my map claims is called 'Buttock', finally coming to a stop at the access road that runs up to the top of the dam at Upper Ogden Clough reservoir, and that's the place for round of snacks #2, which the girls seem to need more than me this time as their energy supply starts to run low, whilst I feel good as the adrenaline has finally started to kick in.
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| Lower Ogden Clough Reservoir |
It's a hard surface trek all the way back to Barley from here, and there are few views back to Pendle hill as the road descends, proving that this would not be the best way to go up the hill as you'd never get a really good impression of it until way up it's shallower sloped sides, and the reservoir walk along the perimeter of Lower Ogden Clough reservoir is a nicely quiet spot, largely free of the crowds that filled out the ascending path. We start to speculate on the next major targets that I should be looking to for 2015's trips to Lancashire, and I'm starting to feel a bit short of plans that the girls could do, as I'm starting to think about burning the miles on a variety of canal paths in Greater Manchester, surely these environs have more hills to tempt my nieces? Still that's for another day, as we start to rejoin civilisation among the outlying cottages and the conversion work on the building which used to be the Nelson waterworks, rolling back into Barley to find it looking a whole lot brighter in the afternoon sun, and we return to The Cabin, for a 3.15pm finish just in time to get the brews in before the café shuts at an unreasonably early hour, and I'll savour my tea, just as the girls enjoy their lolly or crisps (there's an illustration of different temperaments if you ever needed one), and I'm sure they are already deciding which reward they are going to claim when they head out to Toys-R-Us (>gag<). I'm just grateful that my Sister was happy to bring us all out here, and she's always a useful person to have around when I need to be reminded that I still haven't gotten healthy despite all the walking that I have done in the last three years, she'll always bring the reminder that it is diet and strenuous exercise that'll keep the weight off, and so I'll declare it here, More Hills in 2015!
Next on the Slate: This Lancastrian jaunt requires more mileage!
1,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 1328.9 miles (2014 total: 415.7 miles)
(Up Country Total: 1233.3 miles)
(Solo Total: 1109.2 miles)
(Declared Total: 1120.7 miles)
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