Kirklees Way #5: Clayton West to Hepworth 13/09/14

Self at Clayton West

As a brief post script to me Summer Jollies, I ought to mention that on the evening after my completion of the Hadrian's Wall Path, my Mum suffered a fall at our holiday home, injuring both her feet quite severely, so our last day was spent getting her checked out at Cumberland Royal Infirmary, and my Dad was compelled to do all 270 miles of driving homeward afterwards. I'm happy to report that she is going to be fine, though, having only suffered bruising and the slightest of breaks, with mostly swelling to endure in its wake, indeed she's off on a week of rail touring around Scotland right now, demonstrating that she still a trooper as she heads on into her 70s. Still, it makes me realise that I owe my parents a huge debt of gratitude for how they put themselves out for me so that I can tour remoter parts of the country, and I think I need to emphasise that and thank them here, because the truth is that, ultimately, none of this would have been possible without them. Still as the End of Summer comes on, it's back to West Yorkshire to get the Kirklees Way back on the schedule as the days of summer pass on, loading up to walk against the clock again, as it's going to be last Night of the Proms with my pals in Mytholmroyd in the evening, the clear indicator that the decline of the year has finally arrived. So the backpack is weighed down with a change of togs, the heaviest load I've taken on since striking out on the Dales Way and I've got a 5 and a half hour window to make my way around this distant corner of the county, largely because the shortest possible trip to my start line is on a 90 minute bus ride via Wakefield.

Kirklees Way #5: Clayton West to Hepworth  12.4 miles


Bucolic scenes above Clayton West

Hop off the Yorkshire Tiger at 10.05 in Clayton West, wondering if there is an Eastern variant to be its companion, as the only other West Yorkshire Clayton that I can think of is far north of here near Bradford, and also noting that this appears to be one of the few towns in the district that hasn't been stained black with soot in the past, maybe they've always had a good cleaning budget despite growing as a coal town. Head off up Newlands Avenue, the most prosaic of suburban streets and out of the village around the back of the block of parking garages to slip around the edge of Cliffe Wood park. Not a completely remote woodland, as the local bowls club dwells within it, and by the car park there's wooden sculpture carved into a tree trunk that looks a man being assaulted by a giant owl, and I don't think that's quite the image that it was meant to be going for. Head south, down the declining path down the edge of the woodland, before dropping to field boundary down to the beck in Riding wood, rising to the field on the other side and guessing that there's going to be a lot of up and down on today's trail, long before we actually reach the higher lands towards its end. It's shame we've got no sunshine to speak of, as the freshly mown fields would glow golden to provide glorious bucolic scenery, but instead we've got that high thick cloud that keeps the air temperature high despite the lack of sunlight. Rising to meet a vague path across a bare field, we get the feeling that Clayton West is a lot bigger than had been thought, but the village below is actually Scissett, merging in from the west, with its distinctive church at its heart, and I slip from the fields to Lower Common Lane, dropping down a narrow squeeze between the bungalows before rising away from the settlement above the local substation, quite the oddest of detours when a simple route could easily be blazed straight from the fields. The lane rises away for quite a while, eventually reaching a crossroads and turning to dirt track to descend down the boundary of Bagden Wood, eventually bottoming out and not following the lane as no right of way follows it, and the route guide directs me across the golf course that surrounds Bagden Hall, which transpires to me wild and heavily overgrown, and it turns out to be that rarest of things, an abandoned golf course, which makes me happy for some reason but could easily confuse anyone trying to follow the guide book to the letter.


Deffer Wood & Cawthorne parish

At the lodge house, associated to the hall, the path starts on a strange detour, heading east again, back into Bagden wood and I start to hope that this journey against our prevailing direction is going to provide a view else I am going to be deeply irritable, and initial; going isn't favourable as the path snakes downhill to land in a puddle of slurry covering the track from source unknown. Rising again, with filthy boots, we arrive below the site of Hay Royds Colliery, only a modest site and closed relatively recently, and crudely bulldozed and fenced off since, and now free to be visited by any scrap metal thief who might want to come this way. Heading onto the field path above Wheatley Hill farm, we plough south again through the damp grass, and would have a great perspective towards Emley Moor and across the district if we didn't have so much cloud in the air, and as the path crests and drops down towards Bagden Lane we get a good view to the south, a completely fresh perspective. First instincts suggest we are looking into the Don Valley, but we are too far east for that, instead we can see deffer wood and the valley of Cawthorne Dike, a branch of the Dearne, which means that Barugh and Barnsley aren't too far off in the haze towards the south east. Tramp the lane and the rolling terrain offers views to north and south, as well as a new housing development around upper Bagden farm, a bit remote along this lane for an executive development methinks, and as I go, the sight lines offer a view to the ridge and wind farms above the Don valley, looking tantalisingly close but lacking the transport links to easily drop it onto my walking schedule. Along the roadside, one wood really looks like it has become home to a group of survivalists, and the houses around Exley Gate would offer a nicely vintage aspect if it wasn't for all the awful Velux doors and windows. Common Lane takes us northwards once more, tramping along to the hairpin down to Stubbin House, subject of another good make over and then meeting the steep wooded track that leads us tantalisingly close to the edge of Denby Dale, but continues away down to meet the river Dearne once more before rising amongst the outermost houses of the village to cross the A636, almost within spitting distance of Bagden park, and I'm happy that the views were worth the detour, despite the cloud.

Lower Cumberworth

The way resumes on the westward trend, rising up the track to Perch house farm, crossing a field and entering an enclosed track above High Bridge wood, an oddly well-made track that seems to lack any other obvious purpose, before moving onto another of those excellent flagged paths hidden beneath the trees that could be treacherous in wet weather but provides some cooler going on a day like this. It fizzles out into undergrowth just before Skelmanthorpe recreation ground, and going around the perimeter of the football field is as close as I'll be getting to that particular town whilst on my travels, soon swinging away through a trio of the smallest arable fields that could possibly exist, soon hitting the track towards Lower Cumberworth which looks like it will be a straight lane but actually has all kinds of kinks along the field boundaries before hitting the straight run on to Lane Hackings Green, which has farming and an elevated water (or sewer) pipe off its north side, and a quite unexpected group of council houses on its south. I don't know why this surprises me, as I already know that they can be found everywhere, but Lower Cumberworth seems to have been little more than a crossroads with a pub and chapel in the past, but has now grown some suburbia of its own, spread along Top Lane, where its elevation makes it all feel a bit exposed to the elements (and has you feeling that that Upper Cumberworth couldn't be that much higher up, but it is, some 50m more elevated off to the southwest). Exiting the village, and the end of the guide's leg 9, the track skirts around the edge of the local cricket club, where art installations have been created behind the pavilion, and a stage for a concert is being assembled (or dismantled, it's hard to tell) in front of it. Skirting around the workmen, the view forwards starts to look familiar as Shelley and the path to Emley Moor mast emerge into the landscape, the transmitter itself now slipping away to the east as the path crosses more recently mown fields and slips around the portal of Cumberworth Tunnel on the Penistone line, but there's no line of sight down into the cutting. More fields are to be walked, and the stubble rips at the boots as I go, so a brief break from it through Brogg Wood is welcome before we see a bit of train action on the railway line, and detour around the grounds of Long road, farm, which convinces me that the people who do over farm buildings must be the same people who do holiday homes.

Shepley Old Hall

The lanes beyond have plenty of heavy gates on them, as if the passer by wasn't welcome around these properties, and whilst the view forwards to Shelley gets even more familiar, the sounds of train whistles on the air suggests that we still haven't got that foe away as the Kirklees Light Railway is still well within earshot. Across Birk House Lane, we meet High Moor lane, another ancient tracks according to the guide book, and nowadays forming part of a cycling link to the Trans Pennine Trail, one which I wasn't aware of on my maps, but the signage can't lie, surely? It ensures a decent rideable surface, albeit one that gets a bit narrow in places, not that that would deter many cyclists and you do wonder how bad a path has to get before the off-roading type would deem it a bit too difficult, the sticky patch at the bottom of Yew Tree wood would probably be the bit to put me off, but then again, I've never felt that secure on two wheels. Having passed the Shelley - Shepley boundary stone, we meet the edge of Shepley proper, or at least that how it feels as a cluster of farm buildings and Victorian houses are met, but this seems to be cluster slightly separated from the village itself, with suburbia still to fill in the blanks, and along The Knowle an old mill and a number of factory buildings do their bit to advertise the relative largeness of Shepley. Roll out to meet the A629 Abbey Road, and my path crosses it to follow up Yew Tree Road, and the historical collisions of this village come thick and fast, with contemporary suburbia nestling in between Victorian stone terraces and a number of late 17th Century farmhouses (indeed, every old farm house in the north seems to be of this period, as if everyone went building crazy, post-Restoration). A little further along, on Station Road, we meet the ancienct gem of the village, Shepley Old Hall of 1608, looking slightly incongruous facing the early 20th century semis, and I wish I had a nicer day to photograph it, so move on along Jos Lane, where the council estate dwells on its south side, with a good view over to the cleft of Thunder Bridge Dike wending its way north towards the Colne valley. There's also a lot of migrant birds gathering atop a pair of houses, giving the scene an ominous Daphne du Maurier / Alfred Hitchcock feel, and despite this, we find the first available bench in along while, so I'll plonk myself here to look north across the valley and realise that there is a lot more of Shelley over there than I had thought, as if suburbia has spread like a contagion to every corner of Kirklees.

The Holme Valley

Post feeding, Shepley is left behind as I strike onto Jenkyn lane, to meet an ornately wrought metal gate, that is yet another artistic feature that the council has put on the route to keep the walker engaged, and at this late stage I start to wish that I had paid more attention to them as the route guide attempts to bring them to your attention, whilst my brain is more focused on getting the miles down. A field walk starts out, mostly hugging the boundaries as attention wanders to the higher hills to the south knowing that your path is due to take you up there, but you are not certain where, and you start to feel like you are entering that corner of the district where the terrain gets a bit wilder and the elevations that bit more pronounced, and that feels like a good thing, as all the farmland since Thornhill edge has been a bit of a drag. Pass Shepley cricket ground, where a match progresses despite the bad light, and then habitation is left behind as I pace the grass to Wood End lane, rising to meet a distinct watershed, beyond which the Holme valley is revealed, as well as the distant high hills beyond, and as they've been mostly hiding since the third day on this trail, it feels good to see them again, indicating that the conclusion isn't so far away now. The path hangs at the top edge of the steep valley side, just above the wiry trees and feeling more like a heavily ground groove than a proper path, so careful steps are needed as the view evolves and attention can wander to the distant farmsteads and a slightly improving surface as the southward trend continues, and you need to be super alert to spot the turn to the field boundary up the covered reservoir as it is well hidden, as you keep on looking towards the track that descend towards New Mill. Next point of contact is the A635 Penistone Road, and slipping through a ginnel between the few houses at the roadside, beyond where the lung busting walk starts, along a field boundary and then up through some marginal land to meet Gate Foot Lane, where we can meet the High Moors again, and switch back onto Hirst lane, a rough and stony track that feels like it never became a proper road, with only quarry and farm traffic having used it in the last few decades. Level going is welcome after that ascent, and I start to watch the clock as I try to gather my pace. looking up the equestrianism going on on the rough fields above, and looking down to spot the slow moving traffic descending on the main road into the Holme valley far below, and for the first time in a while, I feel miles from anywhere.

Hepworth

There's llama farming up here too, as well as the constantly evolving view over the wrinkles of the Holme Valley, and as the track hits its descent from the edge of Hurst Brow, a last look back to Emley Moor can be had before getting sight of our destination, while the air is so still up here, the sound of a football match in the distant village of Scholes (not the one from day #2, btw) can be heard as clear as day. A nice clear route down to Hepworth feels like it should be easily obtainable, but the day feels like it has a sting in its tale, having dropped more than 40m down below Hullock Bank, the path then decides to head up again to the top of Scar End Lane, forcing an ascent when your brain is ready to get on the bus. Still, Hepworth looks pretty considerable from up here, larger than it does on the map, and there's little to indicate what the folly tower and ornamental lake might be associated to either, and despite going in the 'wrong' direction the sight of the finish line isn't lost, which keeps the spirits up. At the top of the clough, the path wanders among a variety of farmsteads and its an odd place to find families out on a stroll, and soon the high lane can be left behind and the real descent can start, down the edge of the hill that I really hope is called Cheese Gate Nab, hitting that pitch that is actually hard to do quickly and even as it zig-zags down to meet Meal Hill lane and the back of that most-puzzling garden, your brain is thinking 'all downhill from here'. The lane drops down to the A616 Sheffield road, and into the woods beyond, descending further to the bottom of Hall Acre wood, where a thick carpet of beech kernels covers the ground and much fungi can be found (and knowledge gleaned that Usbourne spotters book 30+ years ago hasn't gone to waste), and the path slips across the footbridge over rakes Dike before the path moves to make its arrival in Hepworth. Unfortunately it's up a narrow field, ruled by a horse that isn't getting out of your way, behind the 20th century suburbia that has developed below the older village above, and an uphill grind at the end of the day is not what you want, which the lady at the back of the four-storreyed house at the top acknowledges, as well as warning me that the steps up to Town Gate are the worst part of it, and my late-season wobbly legs would be inclined to agree. So here's another charming village of blackened cottages, nestling in its valley seemingly far from the wider world, but even here suburbs have grown to become a commuter village, and my brain just cannot process how that might happen. Anyway, roll up to the pleasingly cosmopolitan Butcher's Arms at 3.15pm, just in time to miss the bus leaving the village one minute later, feeling no immediate need for beer but heppily having enough time before the next bus to finish lunch before starting the long rides to the Calder Valley and the Last Night, happy that I have a change of clothes in my bag, as for the third time this year (but the first time on the trail), I have suffered a catastrophic trousers failure.


Next on the Slate: Onward among the high hills of Kirklees to the end of the trail.

1,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 1312 miles
(2014 total: 398.8 miles)

(Up Country Total: 1216.4 miles)

(Solo Total: 1096.5 miles)

(Declared Total: 1103.8 miles)