Sunday 4 July 2021

Brighouse to Northowram 03/07/21

6 miles, via Owler Ings, Brookfoot, Slead Syke Wood bottom, Sutcliffe Wood bottom, 
 Hipperholme Mill, Mytholme bridge, Shibden Hall Park (Mereside), Stump Cross, Salterlee, 
  Lane Ends, and Shibden Dale Brow. 

You can probably guess from the headline that this was not a walking trip that went as planned, and I should also have known that I was flick fate on the nose when I thought that I could take on the challenge posed by a day of constant Summer rain, but sometimes it seems that I really think I know better and that the weather conditions can easily be overcome even when taking on a trip from the banks of the Calder up to the watershed ridge and back down again, taking a long route around Halifax and taking in some of the Calderdale terrain missed on my long trips northbound. So, this object lesson in watching things come unstuck starts at Brighouse station at 8.50am, already dressed against the weather that doesn't take much time to come on as we take a snaking route across the town to the northwest, heading to Brighouse bridge via Gooder Lane and Cliffe Road, and then approaching the Navigation channel and  Anchor Bridge via the stub of Bridge Street, before we head out of town via Owler Ings Road and Bank Street, varying it us just so things can be kept interesting as we match old trajectories. There's already a persistent light drizzle in the air as we rise up to the side of the A6025 Elland Road, again, where we'll carry on northwesterly through the tree lined bank above the canal and the Calder on the way down to Brookfoot, by no means an original route choice but the only practical way to get to this low corner of the town, with its terraces stacked on the hillside above, its old Co-op store now occupied by a funeral director and the Red Rooster inn looking likes its back in business after seeming to have had regular occasions of being permanently shut. Our new route starts here, not up through the Brookfoot Business Park on the site of the old dye works, despite it offering a hard surface to walk on, instead joining the rough path at the side of Red Beck, which forms the valley that we're intending to traverse, possibly the most concealed of all the branches of the Calder, with our initial steps being taken up to the edge of the woodland and fields above the stream, pressing on past the industrial plant, with the vegetation having been very recently cut back so we're not getting an additional soaking from below as we rise on, up the dirt track to meet Wood Bottom Road.

Anchor bridge, on the Calder & Hebble Navigation, Brighouse.

The high terraces on Elland Road, Brookfoot.

The Green path into Red Beck vale.

We're right at the theoretical edge of Brighouse down here, with the high terrace (and associated garages) at the corner, and the ribbon of low-rise suburban house beyond, both sitting below the elevated wooded bank of Slead Syke Wood, forming their own isolated little enclave at a remove from the town, which ought to offer views over Red Beck Vale (as I'm calling it), unfortunately lost by a lost of damp mist, so tracing the route we took on the western side in 2014 isn't really possible as we process on, falling and rising with the lane on the way up to the lane coming down from Hove Edge. It high stone retaining walls are your thing, there's a whole bunch to admire on the way up to, and down from, Sutcliffe Wood Lane, supporting the houses built above them (aside from the mysterious tower that serves no obvious purpose), and there's a bunch more tree cover to come as we press north, which is useful for keeping the rain off as we pass below the houses that it in the fields on the brow and note the number of suburban redevelopments encroachments that have been along this leafiest of hidden lanes, country retreats at a really very small remove from the nearby settlement. Join Badger Lane at the junction of the road coming down from Hipperholme, and shed the elevation that we'd enjoyed above the valley side, coming down around the site of Hipperholme's worsted mill, which has been utterly erased from the landscape to be replaced by somebody's rather well manicured garden, though it does explain the presence of the small urban enclave at the side of the beck, which really shows up the redness that gives it a name as we join the off-road path that tracks through the fields and woodland below the railway line, and above the old fireclay works. This lead us onto Halifax Old Road, which makes a very obvious passage down to Mytholme Bridge and up towards Shibden Hall and the town over the next hill range, passing across the hidden valley almost unnoticed as if a lateral passage conceals it that bit more, it's certainly the feeling you can get looking north to the railway embankment as it completely hides that landscape of Jum Hole to the north, while the elevation of Beacon Hill to the south cannot be seen at all beyond the road bottom.

Red Beck Vale, from Wood Bottom Lane

High Walls on Sutcliffe Wood Lane.

Red Beck, at its reddest.

The fall and rise of Halifax Old Road.

The rain may have eased off some as we rise past Denmark farm and the close of houses on the site of the old industrial school, but there's still scope for getting very wet indeed as we join the footpath that skirts Little Ireland farm, as the overgrowth on the path transfers all its accumulated wetness directly into my trousers, which means wet legs add to the miserable conditions as we make our way down to the passage under the railway embankment and into Shibden Hall park, where finding our ongoing level means traversing down cobbles that are so slick as to be terrifying. Land by the side of The Mere, the boating lake and duck pond, and join the oath at the south side, as more tree cover is offered there, as we pass around above Shibden Brook, the same stream with a different name, finding that this year's ducklings all instinctively want a feeding and that the hope for an interesting view up to the hall are dashed as it hides beyond a bank of trees atop the rising parkland, and we'll thus have to return here for a proper explore as we depart by the Mereside Cafe and car park, and noting the interesting railway related wood carvings before we cross over the beck, back to the east side. Pass through the enclave of suburbia that has grown on the site of Shibden Grange, to meet the end of Old Godley Lane, which we rise up along its steeply turning surface of sets to meet the contemporary Godley Lane, as the A58 makes its own passage across the southern throat of Shibden Dale at Stump Cross, which is completely concealed from view behind the Stump Cross inn, where we pass over the main road and select our passage, taking the higher road of Kell Lane as it reaches north, away from the suburban enclave beyond greater Halifax and below the wooded bank of Staups Common. It's got a more secure surface on its pavement that the slickened cobbles of the old Staups Lane below us, which looks treacherous now that the rain is coming on again, and our coming reveal of Shibden Dale proper, across from the perched New Kell terrace and the Salterlee school and chapel, squeezed onto the rising side of the road, is spoiled by a thick damp mist, and as we're now beyond any shelter from the rain, we're just gonna keep getting wetter as we rise, while being denied all the landscape interest and Summer greenery that this trip had been deliberately plotted to bring our way.

Passage below the Halifax - Bradford Line.

The Mere, Shibden Hall Park.

The Stump Cross inn, Stump Cross.

New Kell Terrace, and Salterlee School.

So it feels like we've challenged the weather and come up extremely short as we rise up to Lane Ends, the crossroads with a perched terrace where the only lane across the valley passes steeply down to the valley floor, and up the other side to arrive by the dry ski slope, where the local #533 minibus passes us and we are compelled to plough on uphill, looking north to see that the cloud is hanging below the 300m elevation, obscuring the hilltops at Swales Moor and Catherine Slack to the west, meaning that most of the high portion of our route is going to disappear into an unceasing wall of mist. So when a bench presents itself, on the rising side of the road and offering actual shelter from the rain, we pause for elevenses and start to plot potential escape routes from the trail, as there's no plausible way to do 12+ more miles in conditions like these, and three obvious ones present themselves to be considered as we push on up Brow Lane, below the ribbons of terraced houses that hand above Shibden Dale as it falls away to the west of us, and we drift up the side branch above the Whiskers farms and wood, away from the main body of the valley. At the Cave Hill corner, our progress decision is made for us as my camera gives up after getting waterlogged by the relentless rain, and if there's little point in walking a scenic route when you can't get a view, there's no point at all continuing when you can't visually record it, and thus we strike away into the landscape of high fields around Northowram, not exactly sure where I might snare a bus ride, but certain of the direction that needs to be made along Lands Head Lane and Hall Lane to return us to civilisation, and away from this terrible idea of walking on a day like this. We are lead into the village among the parklands of Northowram Hall, and alongside the perimeter wall of its main house, and the suburban closes that have been developed therein, landing us on Northowram Green by the village surgery and close to stops where the #681 bus service to Bradford can be found, spied coming our way as we arrive at the end of Newlands Grove at 11.25am, as I haul my sodden self on board, feeling chastened that my relative lack of walking wisdom, which I'd thought I'd developed over 9+ years of trail blazing, has been so horribly exposed by this ghastly turn in the weather, and my choice be out and about in it.

Shibden Dale vanishing in the rain.

Shelter located on Brow Lane.

Last Shot of the day, on the Cave Hill corner.

5,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 5046.3 miles
2021 Total: 304.2 miles
Up Country Total: 4583.3 miles
Solo Total: 4714.7 miles
5,000 in my 40s Total: 3644.1 miles

Next Up: Picking up this trip exactly where we left off (in theory).

~~~

Pandemic Thoughts: June 2020

Well, the pandemic didn't end in June, despite what HM Government thought when they were plotting their timetable of lifting all Covid restrictions a couple of months back, indeed it seems to have been the month where things started to get worse again as the Delta variant swept the nation, formerly known at the Indian variant until the WHO decided it was wise to stop using geographical names to discourage further xenophobic blame being apportioned by terrible people, with this strain now accounting for around 90% of all new infections in this country. The June 21st deadline always felt like it was at least a month too early, even when it was first announced, as was a week after the announcement of the delay that the vaccination programme was finally opened up to the 18-25 age group, meaning that it would take several weeks to get it administered to all who were willing to receive it plus the additional three weeks that would need to elapse for the first dose to become effective, before it could be considered that the most active section of the adult population could be considered to be relatively secure in their personal health. Of course, as soon as the revised date of 19th July was announced, HM Government seem to have become absolutely fixated on there being no more delays on the lifting of Covid restrictions, as if the hospitality and travel industries had been guaranteed that they would have full summer season to revive their businesses (and the wrangling over 'safe travel' abroad has proved so tedious and long winded over the last month that I'm going no further into it here), and none of that seems wise when the UK infection rate is surging past 20,000 new cases daily. It definitely is a third wave, despite the much lower levels of hospitalisation and death (which are still troubling numbers nonetheless), with the Delta variant apparently manifesting itself with symptoms much more like that of the common cold rather than those we've associated with Covid, and thus its spread is possibly due to its mis-identification, just as much as its increased virulence, indeed both My Sister and My Mother have both endured fierce respiratory ailments over the back half of May and the front half of June respectively, plausibly passed from one to the other but apparently not being identified as Covid after both passed multiple negative tests.

I've got less to say than some months, probably because I've been busy enough distracting myself with other business, having finally shifted into a new role at work, transferring onto the MRL team at St James hospital in Leeds, now doing computer work and the unending haul through digital data, rather than the unending piles of paperwork that I had been working on previously, and that's required a lot of attention to be given to a new bunch of tasks and some revived skills in my job, as well as getting in more exercise to go with the sitting down, on the 30+minutes trip from and to town daily. Elsewhere, a return trip to the Dentist has to be made, to get a filling repair and to witness up close just how much PPE has to be donned by medical professionals when administering clinical care in these testing times, which would be worthy of comment regardless of circumstances, but I mention here as an appendage to the recording of the fact that I suffered multiple lacerations to my tongue in the process of getting my tooth filled, leaving me with a mild glandular inflection and numbness that still persists after more than two weeks. Still, a small amount of joy can be extracted at the fag end of the month as we witness the resignation of the Health Secretary, albeit not for any of the reasons that you might expect in the circumstances, for he didn't go for overseeing a health crisis that has killed over 160,000 people nationally, or for his failures in the provision of PPE for the NHS, the chaotic rollout of the Test & Trace scheme or his questionable role in the issuing of government contracts, or even for his failure to stand up for the health of the nation in the face of so many making the demand for the revival of commercial activity rather than enduring protective measures. No he's professionally done because he got caught on camera trying to make whoopie with one of his aides, thus breaching DoH social distancing protocols, and resigning after the PM distinctly failed to fire him (despite being supposedly being on the record as describing him as 'useless' and 'a liability'), and ultimately there's no real reason for celebration as he's been replaced with the god-awful slaphead bean-counter, who look like he's got all his facial features in the lower half of his visage: undoubtedly one of my least favourite politicians in the current government, if you hadn't already guessed.


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