Mytholmroyd to Brierfield 14/08/21

15.2 miles, via Hawks Clough, Crow Nest Woods, Hebden Bridge (Fairfield & Hebble End), 

 Heptonstall, Slack, Clough Hole, High Greenwood, Black Dean Bridge, Clough Foot, 

  Widdop Reservoir, Great Edge Bottom, Tom Groove, Rapes Clough, Thursden New Bridge, 

   Broad Bank, Holt Hill, Lane Bottom, Haggate, Marsden Height and Catlow Row.

The first weekend of August is lost due to neither day being able to present a viably large window of decent weather for trekking over the Pennines, with rain particularly blighting the latter half of the Saturday, and thus our disappointing Summer continues with us being almost halfway through the month before we can get out again, full of intent to seek out the way to the only road that could honestly be described as a mountain pass in West Yorkshire, over the top of the northwestern high lands and into the East Lancs valley once more. We'll start this trip from Mytholmroyd, just so we are varying up our start lines and putting down a bit of distance before we are compelled onto the uphill lane, alighting at 9.10am and setting a course westwards along the floor of the Calder Valley, seeking a path that makes the most interesting possible passage along the straight mile of the railway line, which means descending to Cragg Road and cross Cragg Brook via the footbridge in the shadow of the viaduct that leads us over to the flats of Elphaborough Court, which are passed among to join Thrush Hill Road, where we pass under the narrow tunnel to the north side. Thence left, down behind the housing block on Erringden Road to meet the first footbridge, which elevates us over to the south side again, leading us into the Nest Estate, with its enduring 1940s vintage prefabs, and its path through the central close before we turn to the railway once again, passing over the stone Paddy Bridge, which doubles as a farm access route, which lead us back to the suburban edge of Caldene Avenue at Hawks Clough, where another turn takes us over the rails for a third time, over the footbridge leading to the Great and Little Stubb farms. Pass among them before another farm track drops us down, taking us under the railway via the Stubbs lane underbridge before we meet a rough path that shadows the railway west, through the trees and above the industrial enclave at Calder Brook before we meet Carr Lane and pass over the railway for the final time in this quarter, settling us onto the track of Crow Nest Road, which leads us below the steep ban of woodland at a short remove from the railway's side, where morning sun teases us with an appearance above the canopy before we meet the outlying houses that sit beyond the site of what used to be Hebden Bridge's gasworks, just a step or twelve east of the end of Wood Top Road and the railway station.

Mytholmroyd Viaduct.

Over the Straight Mile of the Calder Valley line.

Under the Straight Mile of the Calder Valley Line.

On the track through Crow Nest Wood.

Our preamble can end here and our route get going properly now, as we rise up Palace House Road, through the narrow strip of Hebden Bridge that sits on the south side of the Calder, with a stretch of terraces and a few semis ranked up the hillside for as far as they will go, in order to gain the best plausible views to the north of the valleys converging above the town, a sight which we are denied from the roadside, until we've gotten far enough along to see the wooded nab end of Heptonstall Bank rising ahead of us, as we drop down to make a passage over the railway. Nod in the direction of Weasel Hall tunnel and follow Shelf Road as it slip through the trees down to the Hebble End Bridge, taking us over the Rochdale Canal, and across the urban-industrial island between it and the River Calder in pretty short order before we rock up on the western end of the town's main drag of Market Street, to make a brief association with the side of the A646 as we are led past the Methodist church and up the rise to the edge of the town, as Bridge Lane elevates us up to the bottom of Heptonstall Road, where we take the hairpin corner by the Fox & Goose inn. The uphill starts here, a climb I knew was coming but still wasn't quite prepared for as the road angles itself around the hillside on its route to Heptoinstall and the plethora of high lands beyond, testing the limbs for the foot traveller and and the fortitude of the local residents living in the terraces and semis perched alongside the bank road, where even our rapid elevation doesn't really afford us a decent view over the rooftops downhill or downstream, and thus all focus settles on the steep footway-less ascent to the village, up the largely traffic-free lane where only editions of the #596 bus needs to be tussled with. The climbing continues as Heptonstall village is met, amazingly unseen since the Calderdale Way brought us this way in 2012, and it's still looking as quaint as it ever did, retaining all the ancient flavour that comes with being one of the oldest settlements in the Calder Valley, and we even get a sunshine breakthrough as we pace alongside the cobbles of Towngate, squeezing us through the narrow passage up to the Cross Inn and White Lion, and then on, up the terraced reach of Smithwell Lane, to meet the JI&N school at the uppermost extremity while having not gotten sight of either of the churches on the hillside as we went.

Taking the southern route around Hebden Bridge, Fairfield.

Crossing Canal and Calder, Hebble End, Hebden Bridge.

The startling ascent of Heptonstall Bank.

Towngate, Heptonstall.

The sunny day isn't going to persist once we've emerged onto the lane above, snaring the upstream views of the Calder valley and Colden Clough as we head up past Sandal House and Windy Harbour farm, tracing our way around the rise of  Cross Hill before we get the rise of Knoll Top and the mass of Heptonstall Moor rising on our horizon ahead, before we get Slack hamlet arriving at the laneside, with Hebden Dale digging its deep, wooded passage into the landscape to the north, with all the ripples of moorland and fields ranged beyond. We'll tangle with the more easily driven road across this landscape, again pondering the fortitude of folk would wish to reside on this hillside rib that could plausibly experience the force of the weather blowing in from any direction, appealing enough on a faintly summery day like this, taking it all in as we come up to the last junction we'll be facing in a while, taking the right turn by the former Baptist chapel and taking on Widdop Road as it starts off it passage shadowing the southern side of Hebden Dale, with the signage doing its absolute best to not advertise this as being a secret route into Lancashire. We'll trot along past the Stonehey Gate farm and New Houses terrace before we quickly make association with our previous passage this way, up from the woods by the Acre farm and cottages, settling into a steady altitude through the ribbon of fields above the wooded valley and below the moorlands which the Pennine Way drew us across, taking us past the Greenwood Lee farmsteads, with the elder one being the proudest house on this side of the dale, before we come down to the depression at Clough Hole, the location of the least convenient car park for the NT Hardcastle Crags estate. Shift with the lane and valley onto a more northerly trajectory, with Walsaw Lodge and the moorland rise of High Rakes sitting on the northern horizon ahead, and as continue above the valley, we can briefly get a view down to the actual rocky tops of the Hardcastle Crags themselves, so well hidden when sought in the woods below, as we also note the rank of farmstead above which all seem to be sat at the springing line on the southern side of the valley, ahead of landing at the last farm hamlet on the lane, at High Greenwood, where the road and valley shift us westwards, and out of the lower Hebden Dale.

Knoll Top and Slack Hamlet.

Slack hamlet and the Baptist chapel.

Hebden Dale, upstream from Acre.

Hebden Dale, downstream from above Clough Hole.

High Greenwood hamlet.

Widdop Gate farm appears on this lane, and the landscape shift approaches as the wooded reach of Hebden Dale ends with the transition into the rougher cleft of Black Dean, with the Pennine watershed ridge arriving ahead of us, and one thing I hadn't taken much interest in in this local terrain is the old railway built to aid the construction of the Walshaw Reservoirs in the late 19th century, having not even sought the whereabouts of the trackbed on its upstream passage, but it needs to be noted above the cleft of the valley, as a quartet of piers that carried its trestle bridge overhead still endure at its floor. We'll take a descent with the lane down through the heather and bracken at the edge of the moorland transition in order to make the passage over the merging streams, almost concealed by the woodland at the confluence, with Alcomden Water cutting in from the north, and Blake Dean approaching from the west, and it's over the latter of these we'll go as the eponymous bridge passes over the throat of its wholly green passage, and having shed altitude, it's immediately uphill again beyond, up the switchback that takes us around what looks like a Scouts hut. Rise with Ridehalgh Lane to Ridge Nook farm, which is last on the lane and get the high panorama to see Hebden Dale recede form view behind us, and looking up to flank of Standing Stone Hill to the south, and up to Walshaw Dean to the north, though the main interest comes ahead, as we spy the valley cleft leading us up to the Gorple reservoirs beyond the Packhorse Inn, possibly the definitive remote country pub in West Yorkshire, which doesn't appear to have been doing much business of late, sitting at the rise of this knob of fields, where the eye is drawn on to our ridge passage, below the rise of Great Edge. As the road drifts in towards the downstream flow of Graining Water, we also tangle with the Pennine Way route again, drifting downhill towards Clough Foot, where we untangle with one National Trail and join another, as the Pennine Bridleway joins the lane, passing the cottage and the bridge over the throat of Greaves Clough, and our rise onto the wild moors of the Pennine Ridge, tracking our way up the notch that leads us away from the steady altitude we've mostly maintained since getting onto the high lanes, and up into the sole mountain pass, of sorts, to be found in this county.

Black Dean, above Hebden Dale.

Blake Dean, and its bridge.

The Packhorse inn, and the Gorple Reservoirs

Clough Foot and Great Edge.

Nearly three hours into the trip, we finally find ourselves on the focus part of the route, with some sunshine arriving again to enhance the dramatic landscape with the eye being drawn across the valley to the rock formations on the south side, with the Round Stone rising on the Flask hilltop and the Cludders stones rising above the south shore of Widdop reservoir, which has hidden in the valley cleft, concealed by its dam, and overshadowed by the rising exposed rocks of Great Edge on the north side, and plainly the point of public interest in this quarter. Pause at the car park for lunch, before we head to the push over the Pennines, taking to the roadside again as it drifts above the north side of reservoir, passing around Widdop Lodge, which is definitively the last house on the lane, and getting the nicely framed view over the surface to the rise of hillside beyond, and passing below the rising scars of the Raven Stones and The Scout that could easily tempt a wander off piste through the bracken to a more elevated  viewpoint, though the road will remain our draw as we head to our route over the top, undulating its way across the northern bank. Reaching towards the upper limit of the water's surface, the view of the 'mountain' pass emerges, tracking its way across Great Edge Bottom, and looking quite unlike any other road in West Yorkshire, rising into a sea of bracken and uneven ground alongside the upper clough, as we meet the Lancashire border at Tom Groove, below the overhanging Rigging Stones, still east of the watershed ridge, with the most testing part of the road walk to come, so we can be glad that Ridehalgh Lane is not one to attract the boy racers. The day's sunshine makes its last hurrah as we dig into the last climb, rising into the deep groove of the lane on the elevation up to Widdop Gate, where the English Watershed is met, revealing the view directly over to Pendle Hill, the northwesterly look to the distant crisp edge of the Ribblesdale high hills, and to the north is the track leading directly on to Boulsworth Hill, which my brain is half-ready to approach immediately, instead of tacking it on to the latter half of a long moorland walk in the future, but as we have glumness arriving, we'll stick with the original plan for today, of heading straight downhill.

Round Stone, Cludders Stones, and Widdop Dam.

Widdop Reservoir.

The sole mountain pass in West Yorkshire, Ridehalgh Road.

The 392m summit, and Pendle Hill, Widdop Gate.

Over the 392m road summit, much lower than the equivalent route over Holme Moss but looking much much wilder, and our descent leads us down into Rapes Clough, and while I spent the trip up touting this road as being the only mountain pass in West Yorks, the reality of it is such that it's really Lancashire's secretly dramatic road, steep and narrow beyond the moorland crest, and frequently falling away sharply on its north side, revealing the ragged passage of Black Clough flowing down from Boulsworth Hill, probably the most dramatic approach that you could make in that direction. The road is pretty alarming to walk, not really wide enough for two lanes of traffic, and looking like it's suffering some crumblage above the fall of the clough, probably ensuring that one fierce rainfall could fatally undermine it in the not too distant future, and after the long drag up, the descent of 100m altitude is pretty rapid, leading us down into the Thursden Valley, with the remote barn and farmstead above it not being all that far from relative agricultural civilization, which does get me wondering if the long steep edge of the Pennine flank on the western side really does affect Lancashire's relative lack of affection for these hills. Perhaps that's just the adopted Yorkshireman in my head back-chatting, talking things around as we come down to the first road junction that we've seen in a while, choosing a path out of the valley via Halifax Road, instead of passing down it with Ridehalgh Lane as that's where the Bronte Way brought us some weeks ago, taking the sharp and sometimes painful rise of the road up past the knot of Thursden woods and past a lot of disturbed ground afflicted by historical mining on the hillside flank as we elevate back up above the valley floor, to pass over May's route and finally encompass all of the Boulsworth Hill upland. Having made the dynamic westward movement of the boundary of my field of walking experience, we stick to the side of the high road as it drifts to some 50m above the Thursden Valley floor, taking us past the WW2 era gun emplacement pillbox at the road junction (which has you wondering about the effectiveness of shooting at Britain's potential invaders at a location this far up country), and we settle back into a landscape of farmsteads and cottages, after the long journey over the hill top, while reassembling the recent memories of the East Lancs valley landscape as we go.

Black Clough and Boulsworth Hill.

Rapes Clough and the Thursden Valley.

Mining remnants by Halifax Road.

The Halifax Road Pillbox.

Choosing the high road, rather than the valley road is immediately the best decision as it reveals the dynamism of the road we just travelled down, as well as that of the Pennine Bridleway on its own long descent from the south, while we sit above the Thursden valley to easily trace the route we paced last time around, up from the valley floor to the crest out by the Pike Lowe tumulus, before we settle into a long run on the lane through the high fields, among a bunch of post historic cottages and farmsteads, with Burnley sitting in the valley ahead, and Pendle Hill refusing to frame itself on the horizon. Herd House turns out to be the first farm with any vintage on it side met up here, beyond the point where we tangle with the route we abandoned through the valley below, and settle into a rolling lane, which is again light of traffic thanks to the gloomy skies, finally getting our local hill looming on the horizon and the lane advertising a route to come over another pronounced limb of higher land above the East Lancs valley, as we rock past more farms, pondering the lack of apparent settlement up here among this high apron of fields, until we come upon the Holt Hill rural terrace. Beyond feels like the outermost edge of greater Burnley, as Lane Bottom has its own couple of suburban closes reaching away from the road, ahead of a small chapel, but it's a bit of an illusionary village, as it abruptly ceases beyond a couple of vernacular terraces that display a local styling that is not seen on the eastern side of the Pennines, built for a lost mill and now dressed in some quaint stylings on the sharply turning corners which offer a view south, to the northern flanks of the Rossendale hills and moors. The edge of town, if not the vaguely district of Briercliffe is met at Haggate, where another chapel, and the pair of pubs at crossroads, the Hare & Hounds and the Sun Inn advertise a potential route straight downhill into Burnley, but as we've gotten our railway station seeking head on again, we'll take right turn onto Nelson Road to pass the local cemetery and make for next town up the valley instead, uphill again and into the fields that development has yet to claim, placing the town decisively behind up as we rise up towards Marsden Heights.

The path just travelled into the Thursden Valley.

Pendle Hill looming over the East Lanc valley, from Halifax Road.

Lane Bottom, the edge of greater Burnley?

Haggate, the edge of Greater Burnley?

As we rise up, we discover the fact that we've found another secret scenic road to pace, as around and beyond the Higher House farm, we get Boulsworth Hill rising on the northeasterly horizon, with the local lump of Walton's Monument elevating ahead of it, before we get a reveal of the spread of Nelson and Colne in the upper valley, and a reveal of the sight line to the hills of upper Wharfedale on the most distant axis to the direct north, before taking the turn which leads onto King's Causeway and rise up to the signage that welcomes us into Brierfield. We track alongside the Nelson Golf course as we ride over Marsden Heights, before we settle into wholly suburban ribbon reaching right up the hillside, down which we shall descend in order to get down into the valley, waiting a seeming age to get Pendle Hill framed on the horizon again, doing its best to reveal all the personalities of its eastern face as we press downhill, a long track downhill, which makes you realize just how much habitation had been crammed in at the valley floor, soon to be met once we cross over the Walverdon Road. Spy that the vernacular terraces seen way back up the hillside are matched in style by the angled pair at Catlow Row, and thence it's downhill further along the regained name of Halifax Road, through the modestly suburban band and into the wholly urban terraced landscape, with the terraces slipping downhill under long roofs at a rakish angle, for the long drag down to the main street of the A682, with shopping parades reaching up and down right at the point where it's the Colne and Burnley Road simultaneouly. We've made good time on this trip downhill, so as we make the final drop down Railway Street, past the looming local mosque and down to the level crossing at Brierfield station, we've time for a bit of a cycle around before we conclude, taking us up Glen Lane by the gradually redeveloping Brierfield Mills site, and up and over the railway line via the footbridge at its northern end, before passing back around via Bridge Street and Cross Street to rock up to the finish line at 3pm, just as our train homewards makes it's northbound passage up the East Lancashire Line.

Walton's Monument and Boulsworth Hill.

Pendle Hill over Suburban Brierfield.

The terraced descent into the East Lancs valley.

Brierfield railway station.

~~~ 

& 0.8 miles, from Burnley Central to Burnley Manchester Road.

Getting back to Morley from here was always going to be an adventure though, and in the 20 minutes that we have to wait, I think I might have made a new friend for life, by encountering one of those older ladies who'll willingly talk to anyone about anything, chatting in philosophical non-sequiturs and intensely personal details, whom I take an age to realise is dressed entirely in Burnley FC colours, while being clearly as mad as a sack of badgers, the kind of friendly oddball who is best addressed with your own flavour of weirdness before we make the short train ride down to Burnley Central. I'll not be joining her in a trip to a BFC supporters bar through, despite her insistence, as a long road home awaits, to be started by taking another trail across the town centre via a lane or too so far unseen, descending again through the retail park and directly across Active Way before taking a turn past the old combined courts and down Curzon Street, noticing just how well the River Brun has been concealed away in its passage under the town, before we make our way through the commercial district between Primark, M&S and the Charter Walk centre. Over St James Street, we join Hammerton Street taking us past the town's old Co-operative store, and through the club and bar district as it starts warming up for Saturday night, before passing over the River Calder (Lancs version) in an almost as well hidden channel, before we rise up to land on the approach to Manchester Road, which takes us over the Leeds & Liverpool canal by the Weavers Triangle and across Trafalgar Road to wrap a 20 minute burn at 3.45pm, gaining enough landscape knowledge to along the way to mean that I might never get lost in Burnley town centre. Of course the best laid plans never quite work out, and the 35 minute wait at Manchester Road station turns into a 95 minute wait, as my intended service gets cancelled, and waiting turns out to be as good an option as seeking alternatives, despite the fact that the 1720 train has three trains worth of passengers on it, as well as the post football traffic taking supporters away from the Burnley - Brighton match kicking out from Turf Moor (with some having a very long trip home indeed), giving us the first hellaciously crowded train ride that we've experienced in the Covid age, where a half hour turnover at Hebden Bridge turns out to be a welcome space to calm down and breathe again on the 4+hour trip home.

The River Brun, under Curzon Street, Burnley.

The River Calder, under Hammerton Street, Burnley.

The Leeds & Liverpool Canal, under Manchester Road, Burnley.

5,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 5108.8 miles

2021 Total: 366.7 miles
Up Country Total: 4645.8 miles
Solo Total: 4777.2 miles
5,000 in my 40s Total: 3706.6 miles

Next Up: The most ambitious moorland trek I've ever conceived (!); weather permitting.