Pontefract to Wakefield 02/04/22

11.1 miles, via Pontefract Castle, Pontefract Park, Park Hill, North Featherstone, 

 Snydale Villas & Streethouse, Sharlston Common, Brand Hill, Bracken Hill, 

  Heath Common, Belle Vue, Fall Ings, and Wakefield Bridge. 

There's only one day of Walking to be had whilst Down Country, as there's also three days of labour to be done around My Mum's house, and a sudden downturn in the quality of the weather to be contended with before we instead return to this season's regular stomping grounds in search of one of the few remaining trajectories in West Yorkshire that hasn't been traced, which involves installing Pontefract as our probable launch point for trails in many directions for the year, alighting at 9.30am again at Monkhill station, with all of the sunshine of two weeks ago, but none of the heat to go with it. To head westwards, we first fall and rise with Mill Dam Lane, past the Railway inn and the Hope & Anchor to arrive below the bailey of Pontefract castle, tracing it around Beech Hill and Castle Chain to land beneath the keep, and its quatrefoil donjon, before rising to the town up Micklegate and Horsefair, noting just how many tower blocks have been built up the hillside without spoiling the ancient aspect of the town centre beyond the Town Hall, along  Market Place to the Butter Cross and St Giles church, and down Beastfair to the war memorial. Split off Cornmarket by the old Courthouse, and descend off the hill via Sessions House Yard and Colonels Walk, between Haribo factory and Leisure centre to find the way down to the railway, which is passed under via the foot tunnel by the playing fields of Pontefract Collieries FC and the urban enclave that has developed around them, rising past Tanshelf station and over the A639  by the gates to Pontefract Park, joining Park Lane as it propels us along the suburban ribbon at the town's west end, past New College and up Park Hill, arriving below the prominent water tower. Having risen with the B6134 to a modest height, a westward view emerges, to the county's distant southwestern horizon, with Woolley Edge and Emley Moor re-sequenced ahead of it, giving us something to look at across the fields of blooming rapeseed as we work our way along the perimeter of Pontefract Golf Course, offering no views north through the hawthorn hedges until its full length has been passed, revealing the look over Glass Houghton and Castleford, and the look towards Leeds, peeking its highest towers above nearby hills, and showing the Aire-Wharfe watershed ridge bounding the city to its west and east.

The Quatrefoil Donjon, Pontefract Castle.

Beastfair, Pontefract.

The Colonel's Walk foot tunnel.

The Pontefract Park gatehouses.

The westward view from Park Hill.

The Airedale horizon beyond Castleford.

North Feathersone lies ahead, its eastern suburban reach soon being met as Park Lane turns in towards its southern corner, taking across the bottom of Willow Lane by the developments around Featherstone Hall, before we follow the sharply kinking Ackton Road as it rises up towards St Mary's parish church, perched on a bluff which overlooks the green fields of what was once the Featherstone Main and Ackton Hall collieries, with the far horizon revealing snow still clinging to the high tops of Black Hill and Holme Moss, before we join the tree lined passage into Ackton itself. Despite its name attaching itself to coal mining, this is still a village with a mostly rural - suburban aspect, facing the playing fields of where Ackton Hall itself used to be, which is passed around as we come down to Sewerbridge Road, offering us a rare view that places Normanton into the local landscape before our route shifts us southbound for a while, along the roadside through the field as we come down to meet the old railway branch that once served the local collieries, the Ackton-Main line if you will, passing over the Sewer Bridge itself and rising again toward the Common Side farm complex. Past the junction of the road down from Old Snydale, and by the industrial estate to the west of Featherstone, our ticker goes past 4,000 miles in my 40's, with some 25 walkable months left to get the final thousand into, as we pass over the railway line and meet the junction by the Featherstone War Horse, and join the A645 as it resumes our track west, a ways north of the Nostell Priory estate off to the south of us, and past the field full of railway panel vans and Notcutts Victoria garden centre as we progress on towards Snydale Villas and Streethouse.

St Mary's, North Featherstone.

The green fields of Featherstone Main colliery.

Ackton village

The Featherstone Main - Ackton Hall branch.

4,000 miles in My 40s achieved on Common Side Road.

The Featherstone War Horse.

Snydale Villas.

The Whinney Lane corner is as close as we'll get to the latter before Wakefield Road pulls us away, taking us across the rough fields of Sharlston Common, as we continue to attempt to get a fix on Nostell Priory's estate before we meet the village of Sharlston common, where we pause across from the estate built for the miners of the colliery, memorialised adjacent to the bench where we'll take a lunchtime brew, much needed while the sunshine retreats, ahead of us pressing on through the village, past the playing fields of the local rugby club and on past St Luke's church. We stick with the A645 as Weeland Road makes a detour that bypasses Crofton, splitting away by the Spring Green Nurseries as the towers and spires of Wakefield and Ossett rise on our immediate horizon, while New Sharlston village sits off to the north, across the fields that conceal the railway line that runs through them, ahead of our apparent arrival in greater Wakefield as the Brand Hill suburban cluster is met, along with the merging Doncaster Road coming in from the south as we pass above Crofton village and keeps us on with the A638 as the terraces and bridge at the top of the former Crofton railway triangle is met. Despite the suburban clusters, we're still not in the city, passing the Redbeck Motel and Shooting Supplies store, in separate establishments, before we pass the Bracken Hill suburban closes, ahead of us passing over the old North Midland main line, just by the junction  with the missing section up to Goose Hill, before we meet another false edge of the city, by Oakenshaw Grange, sitting above the scrubby land of Heath Common, which we'll descend across as the day takes a decisive turn for the less good, as glumness and sleet comes in from the north east.

Sharlston Common.

St Luke's, Sharlston.

The view to Ossett and Wakefield.

The railway terraces, Crofton Junction.

Oakenshaw North junction, on the North Midland Mainline.

Heath Common.

My spring-prepared brain isn't prepared for this sudden chill as we tramp down the pavement past the Gorse bushes to meet the A655 junction, where the developments on the old power station and railway shed site, by the eastern relief road have come on at a pace since we last passed this way in 2019, creating a new suburb between the old Barnsley canal route and the contemporary railway line, ahead of our entry into the city via Belle Vue, taking us past the home stadium of Wakefield RLFC, and the new church of St Catherine, located in the footprint of the old one. Beyond terraces, cemetery and the council house crescent, we pass over the Calder & Hebble Navigation at Fall Ings, and move away from the tangle with the A61 by the Hepworth gallery and Rutlands Mill to pass over the Calder via Wakefield Bridge again, admiring the chantry chapel of St Mary, and the canal offices of the Aire & Calder Navigation before we pass under the railway, west of Kirkgate station, and keep on going north, as I've another finish line in mind, passing the West Yorkshire History Centre and heading over the Marsh Way traffic island to get onto Kirkgate itself. Split west with George Street as it takes us below the Ridings Shopping centre, scratching the remains of the Georgian city as we pass the Zion Chapel, the old cattle market and the enduring Drill Hall before we turn up Smyth Street, elevating us up to the bottom of Westgate, crossed by the Unity Hall and Theatre Royal, before Drury Land goes past the York House Hotle and the Art House complex, ahead of the corners that bring us around to Westgate station, landing at 1.45pm, only to find there are no trains running today and thus bus privileges will have to be taken to get us home.

Suburban Wakefield claims the power station site.

Belle Vue stadium.

Wakefield Bridge and the chantry chapel.

Kirkgate, Wakefield.

The Zion Chapel, George Street.

The Theatre Royal, Westgate.

5,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 5411.6 miles
2022 Total: 127.9 miles
Up Country Total: 4935.9 miles
Solo Total: 5081 miles
5,000 in my 40s Total: 4006.4 miles

Next Up: A weekend off for socialising, before the long Easter break summons me.

~~~

Pandemic Thoughts: March 2022

As the two years marker on the Global Covid-19 Pandemic passes, you could be forgiven for thinking that is now all over if you are only following the news as its being generally presented, as its mostly dropped from the headlines as the war in Ukraine starts to consume everyone's attention, but it's still there if you're at all willing to seek it out, still swirling around with continued infections that keep at least one ICU permanently occupied in the Leeds THT, and an infection rate remaining high nationally, still at levels higher than the start of the Omicron wave. If taken by sheer numbers, it's still very concerning, obviously, but the reality of it is that relatively few people are dying of Covid anymore, and it's on its way to becoming an endemic disease, something that now poses as much risk as seasonal flu to the average citizen, and nations around the world seem to be working towards a managed approach, with even those which tried to maintain a ‘Zero Covid’ policy, like Australia and New Zealand have now abandoned it after completing national full vaccination programs, and it's now only China, ironically, who seem to be working on a total containment strategy, a difficult task with a population of over a billion people. It is probably worse in other parts of the world, but the information isn’t easy to find, as a lot of digging needs to be done to find out just how extensive or successful vaccination strategies have been across the developing world, with even the World Health Organisation admitting that their data sets are frustratingly incomplete as obtaining information about infection rates is poor due to under-reporting of case numbers, while vaccine roll-outs are slowed due to the sheer remoteness of where it’s being distributed, resulting in a very skewed impression of the situation globally. 

Thus, that’s why were compelled to look at things as locally as we can, as the Spring Booster program came into effect this month across, giving another round of vaccine to the elderly and clinically vulnerable across the UK, which My Mum has already had, if we’re keeping notes, though there’s no indication at all if there’s going to be any additional round for NHS workers, as no announcements have come through at the hospital and it looks like we might be waiting until boosters come around with the seasonal flu shots in the Autumn. Nationally, it looks like covid restrictions are passing everywhere, as the devolved governments have announced the end of mask mandates and enforced social distancing measures in the public sphere, which I’d have kept in place until at least Easter if I’d been making the plans, but the major shift towards normal service being resumed in the hospitals is going to be the resumption of public visitation rights from the start of April, albeit at a very limited level, having been restricted to neo-natal, paediatrics and terminal care patients for over two years. Still, this month also saw my first steps to getting out of the covid-imposed bubble of isolation, as March 26th saw me travelling to Leicester to attend the memorial service of family friend BW, who died in December aged 90 (of old age), for many years My Dad’s companion in DIY and amateur dramatics, as well as so much other business at Abbot’s Road URC, an occasion which had to be attended, making it my first public social event in nearly two and a half years, and after two years of a Global Pandemic it’s good to see so many of the aging congregation still going, even if not all that strong. 

Otherwise, we are looking at the continuing unfolding of the Cost of Living crisis, as this last month saw the gas suppliers effectively doubling their prices to domestic customers, to counter the rise in bulk costs, with electrical suppliers looking to follow suit (despite their increasin percentage of capacity coming from renewable sources), and HM Government seem to be doing their best to dither as this unfolds, going forward with their hike in National Insurance rates to pay for social care cost (which will incidentally raise less revenue than the amount squandered on the NHS test & trace scheme in 2020). Then there’s the ongoing conflict in Ukraine to regard, consuming the rest of the attention, which looks like it’s going to be a long one after five weeks, with the Russians having not inflicted any significant defeats on the Ukrainian defenders, while appearing to have underestimated the expected levels of resistance and the logistics of maintaining a long campaign in the field, and their strategy of regime change seems to have shifted to indiscriminate shelling of civilian centres across the country, so while a rapid Russian victory isn’t going to happen, a drawn out conflict isn’t going to be much better. It just leaves you feeling rather powerless from the outside looking in, regarding the waves of support for refugees across Europe, and the continuing imposition of sanctions to hobble the Russian economy, while wishing that HM Government would be a little more dynamic in their refugee visa scheme, and wondering why they are processing visas before admitting people to this country, rather than the more sensible way of doing it the other way around, getting them into a place of safety as quickly as possible. 

Last month, I wondered out loud just how long I might want to report on the Pandemic as a personal reflection on a crisis that had its effects in every corner of the planet, but there’s little of particular value of my perspective on an economic crisis or on a war on the other side of Europe, and thus I feel like that my monthly reportage is not going to go on much longer, as these are situations that don’t impact on my walking life, and dwelling on them isn’t doing my good mental health any favours either, especially when this blog is supposed to be created and maintained for my own entertainment.