Mytholmroyd to Smithy Bridge 19/09/20

12.2 miles, via Hoo Hole, Dauber bridge, Cragg Vale, Cragg Bottom, Cragg village, 

 Bank Top wood, Sykes, Wicken Hill, Saw Gill, Turvin Road, Blackstone Edge reservoir, 

  Cowberry Hill, Lydgate, Whittaker golf course, Ealees Wood, Ealees, Littleborough, 

  Hollingsworth Lake & Nature Reserve.

My (very) late Summer Nine day Weekend lands, and I'm not feeling the huge need to use it all up putting down as many miles as possible, even with the opportunity for a holiday away being not really plausible in the circumstances, as the walking can take a bit of a back seat to more important business, though the trans-Pennine routes can continue along slightly more modest distances, especially as we have a route to approach that has been travelled many times over the years, but never on foot, and getting that off of my slate of unseen routes needs to happen before this year fades. There's absolutely no need for early starts now that we have burned off all the long routes for the year, the extra hour of rest being appreciated before we ride away for a 9.10am departure from Mytholmroyd, not under the friendliest of skies but hopeful that a nicer day will arrive as we get towards the top of the day, and thus we set off south, past the shoulder of Mutton, the village green and over Cragg Brook to get to the real start line of the day, the bottom of the B6138 Cragg Vale ascent, the longest road gradient in England, rising almost 300m over 5 miles, from the bottom of the Calder Valley to the Lancashire Border. I'm going to test this as a speed ascent, and the early stretch, taking us out of the village, beyond the old firehouse, my regular base on Cragg Road and the Royd Ices factory at Hoo Hole don't give the suggestion of a workout to come, but as we open out into the greenery of the valley, and press on up to Dauber Bridge, the shallow but unrelenting ascent starts to make itself felt, and even an early hour its obvious that I'm not going to be the only one testing the climb, as multiple soloists and groups of riders pass on their bicycles, testing themselves on a route given extra exposure by the Grand Depart of the 2014 Tour de France. Of course this is a path already paced this year, albeit downhill, so on the way up all that was seen in July is seen again today, from the caravan park, the Clough Foot farmsteads, the high banks of Hollin Hey Wood, and the deep and wooded gouge formed by Cragg Brook ahead, though the topiary hedge dragon by Moorfield house is a new one, and experiencing any route as an ascent is always good for the variety, and the route up as far as the Robin Hood inn has been traced before, on a dark evening when the Shoulder was closed because of one of its floods, and thus it's nice to trace the path again in daylight. That's us up as far as Cragg Bottom in what feel like no time at all, where route have already brought us twice this season, but there's fresh pavements to tackle once we've passed the Peter Row terrace and the way down to Castle Mills, finding that this hamlet stretches some way further up the road, with new residences with a view having spread on the declining side of the lane from the builders yard to the old Wesleyan chapel, to afford views over to the western valley side where we travelled up and down in preceding weeks on routes that I just cannot trace on this occasion.

The bottom of the Cragg Vale ascent, Cragg Road, Mytholmroyd.

Topiary Dragon at Moorfield House.

Cragg Vale offers the downstream views too.

The Robin Hood inn, Cragg Bottom.

The former Wesleyan chapel between Cragg Bottom and Village.

The boundary with the larger village of Cragg, a little way further up the hill seems pretty nebulous on the ground, with the lane feeling steeper as it rises to the corner by the old Co-operative store, where the valley's kink reveals the division with Withens Clough off to the west, which has the high drain path on the moorland edge above, and the way down to St John's church and the Hinchcliffe Arms below, and as we come past the four storeyed terraces that would be considered a tenement if located in a city, we also pass over the Calderdale Way route, illustrating again the fact that it's taken us eight seasons to get onto this route. We've had a footway to pace thus far, but that peters out beyond the village as we pass below the Cragg Vale junior and infant school, perched above the lane among the descending slopes of Bank Top wood, practically invisible if you aren't looking for it, and the challenges of road walking beyond become apparent as the space for pedestrians is limited as we carry on up the wooded valley, rising past the East View small holding and up to the Victoria Buidlings terraces, constructed to serve a mill at the valley floor that is now long gone. The upper reach of Cragg Vale takes on a wilder aspect as the sound of the brook churns away below the foliage, and the remains of the industrial valley also pass behind us as we encounter the Littlewood and Green bank terraces, flanking the former site of Turvin Mills, as we are drawn up past Higher House farm on the far bank and on into the high fields that flank the reach of Turvin Clough, where we can effectively consider the valley walk to have ended and the moorland walk to have started. That's round-about halfway up the long gradient too as we march out past New Biggin and Lark Hall farms, and catching the full force of the wind as it blows in from the east, giving us a feel of the Autumn to come as we rise on, still shadowing the deep clough and looking across to the expanse of Turley Holes and Higher House moor to the west as we rise on into the vicinity of Great Manshead hill, becoming apparent to our left, and also our path across the valley as we come up to Sykes Gate Bottom, by the last junction on the lane, and the short Sykes terrace, the last outpost of civilisation in the valley. The rising route of Blackstone Edge road continues, with moorland having now crept up to the eastern side of the road and the viable fields in the valley floor gradually diminishing down to nothing as the agrarian boundary is met, with some distance still to come as we look forwards, with the parade of pylons offering their apparent proximity at the top of the horizon on Byron Edge, appearing much closer than they actually are as we rise to another pronounced road angle and reveal, by the remnants of the old quarries at Wicken Hill.

St John's, Cragg, and Withens Clough.

Victoria Terrace.

New Biggin farm, at the top of Cragg Vale.

Sykes farm terrace, at the habitable limit.

Turvin Clough from Wicken Hill.

Get overtaken by the #901 bus as we press on, clearly doing a longer round trip than just the habitable length of Cragg Vale at present, and despite having hit High Moorland altitude, there's still plenty of ascent to come, along a rise that seems deceptively level when driven up it, despite having another 80+m to ascend, and the wind starts to bite hard as progress on, with the Manshead upland retreating from view to the east as we cross over the Saw Gill streamlets that dive under the road via some heavily engineered rock bridges. It's a lonely slog up here, despite the traffic on four wheels and two, with no alternative paths offering themselves to east or west, as the wrinkles of Turvin Clough would impede any non intrepid walker aiming themselves towards the rock outcrops on the moorland around White Holme reservoir, the dam of which stands apparent at a distance, while the stretch of Turvin Road that we pace shows up many signs of recent crumblage and repair with still spongy stretches of tarmac sitting along the roadside as we aim up the long walk to the moorland drains. They prove to be way further along than expected, with Blackstone Edge arriving on the southern horizon long before we get to last of our prior passages over the valley, at the end of the least interesting blast of the climb, but at least beyond we get the run of pylons coming up much closer, and the horizon gaining the wrinkles of the upper Ryburn and Rishworth moors, and getting sight of the dip in the road where the climb ends, visible at the same time as Blackstone Edge Reservoir appears, though there's no signage to indicate its presence regardless of the fuss made at its bottom. Still, we cross the top after an ascent duration of 1hr 49mins, a pretty savage burn to have turned on, and cross the Calderdale - Rochdale borough boundaries at the point that the road surface quality distinctly changes, right on the reservoir corner and under the electricity cables as they pass over the spine of England, just as we do as we carry on to the end of the B6138 along the rocky shore of one of the many cisterns built to feed the Rochdale Canal in the valley far below, and surreally, as we shift to the western, and wetter, side of the Pennines, the cloud cover breaks apart completely. So it's strange to progress into historic Lancashire - contemporary Greater Manchester with the sunshine blazing down, landing on the footway of the A58 where a New Year's Day circuit of yore once started and ended, at clearly the spot where the casual walkers of these moorlnads like to park up their vehicles, and we set course west for the latter half of the day's trip here, pacing along the footway to the road crest on the southern shore of Blackstone Edge reservoir, finding that it's a length that you don't appreciate when travelling alongside it.

Crumblage Repairs on Turvin Road.

Blackstone Edge on the horizon at last.

The Cragg Vale road summit, looking north.

Blackstone Edge Reservoir, and the pylons on Byron Edge.

Blackstone Edge reservoir's dam.

At the western dam, we meet the route of our long Yorkshire - Lancashire border trail, only just surpassed as our boundary after seven years, landing behind the White House inn, a pub with a grand aspect that has surely done sterling service for travellers coming up over Blackstone Edge Moor for a couple of centuries now, and here we'll abandon the long descending sweep of the A58 Halifax Road to take the old road down instead, these days a mere bridleway that drops away from the trunk road sharply, below the ascent marker post and shadowing Castle Clough as it falls away below the reservoir. Having come down a portion, we get our view over Greater Manchester opening up once more, where we can look up to the Roch - Calder transition, and across the whole southeastern flank of Rossendale, while ahead lies Rochdale, in much greater clarity than we saw a fortnight ago, while the eye scans the horizon further to look to Manchester's high points and the microwave tower at Heaton Park, while the distant horizon picks out Fiddler's Ferry power station, near Warrington, and the dark band of hills to the far southwest, certainly the Clwydian range in Wales. A place to ponder many future routes to the west then, as we come down on the uneven track, seeking a place to break for late elevenses, where there's enough shelter away from the constant easterly wind, ahead of us continuing down and shedding all the height gained earlier, looking towards local landmarks like Snoddle Hill reservoir, St James's church at Calderbrook, and the Rochdale Union workhouse, while considering that in a straight line, it might be only an hour's hot dash to the finish line from here. We've got a much longer route than that to do, though, and a much more casual pace to take it as as we come down the Old Blackstone Edge Road, meeting the herd of cattle basking among the grass and bracken, ahead of the flooded Blue Delf quarry, which forms a secret dipping pool in the moorland, which sits ahead of our arrival below the lump of Stormer Hill and our passage over the A58 by the old toll bar cottage, which now doubles as a holiday let and tea room, apparently remote from anywhere. The old road gains a metalled surface as we press on to the southwest, coming around below the route down from Blackstone Edge, where the 'Roman' Road looks like a track that you'd never want to approach going uphill, as we come down to meet Lydgate Clough once more, draining the western edge of the moorlands, which we pass over via Oil Mill Bridge, ahead of the Lydgate terrace, and a whole mess of route that could lead us to our target point of Hollingsworth Lake, in this far corner of Rochdale borough.

The White House, the guide stone and company, on Halifax Road.

Old Blackstone Edge Road, and the view to Rochdale.

Old Blackstone Edge Road descending to Stormer Hill.

The Stormer Hill Toll Bar house.

Lydgate Terrace and Oil Mill bridge.

In truth, it's a massive shame that four months of this year's season were so unfortunately lost, denying me the chance to really blaze a bunch of trails over the Pennines to the eastern edges of Greater Manchester across this Summer, and thus we have to instead make the best of the local landscape as we can during the brief amount of time that we'll have over this side, which we'll start off by popping outside our experience field again and pacing onto the Pennine Bridleway route as it traces its way over the western edge of Whittaker Moor, below the pylons as they head off towards Oldham, with our footpath taking us onto the farm tracks that lead westwards. Clearer than it appears to be on the map, it leads us past Shore Lane farm, and along the northern perimeter of the Whittaker Golf Course, giving us a good view back to the expanding western Pennine flank as we come around to the 13th hole, where the path directs us into the garden of Owlet Hall farm, and thence into Ealees Wood, where the steep sides declining down to Shore Lane Brook give as a quietly concealed path to pace, shadowing the stream away from it all, aside from the other walkers who know that this is a quietly picturesque spot, as we come down to Lane Foot farm, secluded at the stream junction. We drop out onto Ealees lane here, which traces the stream between the high banks of this tiny valley, where a field of grazing llamas can be found, your actual llamas and not the alpacas that are so often misidentified as being so, before snaking its shady way down to Ealees Mill and landing on the edge of Littleborough, at Ealess, naturally, where we pass over the Rochdale canal and appear on the Halifax Road, just up from the Red Lion inn and the railway viaduct, in altogether more colourful circumstances than we did two weeks ago. Carry on to Canal Street again, but don't seek an early conclusion at Littleborough station, instead wandering on by the side of the canal as it hangs onto the south and western side of the Roch valley, below the wrinkles that we have just emerged from, rising to the road bridge that is one of the few points that it had to be actively restored before it was fully reopened after 50 years of closure in 2002, right next to the old station hotel, now going by the name of the Waterside Bar & Restaurant, which seems altogether more appropriate for the location. The B6255 Hollingsworth Road starts to lead us uphill, past the terraces at the edge of town that may be railway or canal related, or merely located here for the reverse view to the north, across the valley to the southern edge of Rossendale, the moors that need some real malice aforethought to approach on foot, as we carry on along our familiar Manchester-bound motoring red route, deliberately avoiding the comical bypass road issues in nearby Rochdale, approaching the day's target as we crest on the lane, by Bank Top farm's mobile meat wagon.

The pylons and Pennine Bridleway on Whittaker moor.

Whittaker Golf Course.

Llama farming at Lane Foot farm, Ealees.

The Rochdale canal front, Littleborough.

The southern Rossendale flank, above the Roch Valley.

We come this way, doing the most almighty of wanders because once past the parade of desirable semis and such on Hollingsworth Road, we land by Hollingsworth Lake, where a New Year's trip has also brought us along the way of the passing seasons, a former canal feeder reservoir which seems to exist wholly for the purposes of leisure usage these day, being probably this borough'r premier free attraction, and thus much busier than any of most of my usual haunts, so progress around its perimeter will not be especially quick, so as to fit myself in around the other visitors while also still trying to keep a good distance away in these febrile Covid days. We set off down the eastern shore, starting out by the Wine Press inn, which is certainly the social hub on the island, with a seating area outside and its own ice-cream van parked outside, and our route down Rakewood Road leads us over the edge of the Hollingworth Bank, one of the three dams that contain this relatively circular body of water, the outspilling stream opening up the horizon to give us a view up to the high western flank of the Pennine spine, revealing clearly that the only plausible way across it from this side is via the notches that we have passed over on our recent travels. On the elevating bank beyond, we can find the hamlet of Hollinworth Fold, sat at a remove and on the Pennine Bridleway path once again as it makes a fleeting visit to these shores, while the lane leads us into the nature reserve on the southern side, leading us over the feeding stream of Longden End Brook, which flows down from the Pennine ridge to the south of here, where the M62 makes its rise to penetrate it, over the Rakewood Viaduct, which rises over the valley a mere mile distant, with all the traffic noise that we've come to expect from it, even when this far away. The path around the nature reserve is largely concealed away from the wetland habitat that we might have hoped to bird-watch from, though the thick coating of trees does finally conceal us from the wind that it making the day far chiller than than the blasts of afternoon sunshine might otherwise allow, as we sneak our views on the passage around the low rise of Turnough Hill, keeping the pace casual as there's no need to rush to the station for an early ride home when we've gone to all the trouble of crossing the border, and incurring the associated costs. We emerge back to good views over the lake as we arrive on the promontory at the heart of its southern shore, running up to the pavilion cafe and looking back to the wide spread of the Lancashire Pennine horizon, with the Wine Press distant on the far shore and Cleggswood farm looming over it on the hillside rise above, as the Lake Bank dam sits to the west of it, and the sharp end is as good a spot as any to walk up to get a panoramic shot, if it wasn't for the easterly wind almost blowing you off your feet as it gusts across the water surface.

Hollingworth Lake, the north shore.

The Lancashire Pennine Spine, from Hollingworth Bank.

Rakewood Viaduct, off to the south.

The Hollingworth Lake nature reserve.

The western shore from the Pavilion Cafe.

The eastern side offers shelter, enough to eat a late lunch calmly and observe the young day-trippers enjoying the beach shore and learning the proper etiquette for dealing with swans, on what will probably be the last good weekend of the notional Summer, ahead of moving on around the remainder of the perimeter path, which takes us down past the enclosure of carved animals, and around the boat house and activity centre that looks like it hasn't seen any business in a while, indeed the entire surface seem short of boating activity. We then follow the path as it leads us over the southern dam, which contains the valley of the other feeder stream of the reservoir, creating a marsh of sorts beyond, before we some around below the most expensive shore of the lake, where the houses with the lakefront views have been developed, one looking like it had its entire plot be raised when concealing it behind a hedge provided insufficient privacy, while another looks like it got legally lost at some stage and its vast pile got subsequently boarded up and forgotten about. I'm content enough just to breeze around the shore to take in the environs, which might be the most dramatic setting for a reservoir that isn't in a dammed up valley anywhere in the country, and it's good to see it popular, even in times when avoiding the crowds seems a wise choice, as we quit the shore as it slips away by the Beach Inn, only to have my hopes of getting a celebratory End of Summer ice-cream before heading homewards dashed when the Lake Bank shore offers no sight at all of a single van, meaning all those departing Royds Ices this morning must have ended up somewhere else. So we meet the urban shore of Hollingworth Lake, and move away from it to attain the finish line, heading off into the suburban spread that has grown up from Smithy Bridge village, finding that the Three Lane Ends junction, with the road up from Milnrow is almost impossible to negotiate on foot, ahead of descending with Smithy Bridge Road, which takes us past the long sweeps of old stone terraces down to the Methodist church at its bottom end, and eventually leads us down to the Rochdale Canal. This leads us over the Smithy Bridge itself, and on to the station beyond, the most modest affair of barren wooden platforms and meagre shelters imaginable, where we wrap at 2,15pm, which feels a bit too early for ending the day, and far too early for the hourly train service eastbound, after a jaunt of only 5 (five!) hours, and unaccustomed to the heat we have gained, we need to retreat to the cool relief to be found by the canal path before we can check off a ride home from the second of Greater Manchester's stations visited, as deep into the county as we'll be venturing this year, sadly.

The Eastern Shore from the Pavilion Cafe.

The Southern Dam.

The most ostentatious Lakefront property.

The southern shore, from The Beach.

Smithy Bridge Road.

The Smithy Bridge itself, on the Rochdale Canal.

5,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 4642.9 miles

2020 Total: 376.4 miles

Up Country Total: 4179.9 miles
Solo Total: 4316.3 miles
5,000 in my 40s Total: 3236.7 miles

Next Up: Last chance for a moorland walk, along the edge of What Might Have Been in 2020.