Today I went to Malham, hoping to find it quiet, which it was. 

I set off the back way towards the cove, heading through the village and up a narrow lane beside the youth hostel, which rose through a small wooded area and became an ancient walled track between mediaeval fields, which led across the hillside and down to the dramatic cliffs of Malham Cove, a natural limestone amphitheatre on the Mid-Craven fault, forming a bowl several hundred feet across and about 250 feet high. After lingering here and enjoying the place I set off up a steep stone staircase contouring around the side of the cliff to the top of the cove. There are peregrine falcons nesting on the cliff, but I didn’t see them.

Above the cliff is an expanse of limestone pavement sheltering rare plants and beasties, as well as being pretty surreal to cross. I hopped and scrambled over it before turning north into Watlowes dry valley, a dry hanging valley which in days gone by held a river which would have cascaded over the cliffs. Now its a bizarre canyon filled with glacial boulders, carrying the Pennine Way towards Malham Tarn and onward. I followed the trail up the gorge and looped around a small scar before heading down to cross a back road and over onto the moor, heading towards Nappa Cross at the top of the bridleway.

Nappa Cross itself, a restored mediaeval waymark, was notable only by its absence, only a rubbly cairn being there. I turned right along the flank of Kirkby Fell, heading along the track to Langcliffe, heading for my dinnertime destination, the hump of Rye Loaf Hill (547m/1799 feet). After backtracking a little on missing the gate, I crossed the soggy saddle and headed up through tussocky grass to the summit, where I scoffed my butties in the drizzle. There was a small wind shelter cairn and firepit beside the trig, suggesting it used to be a beacon hill. Seeing the view, I can see why that would be the case - the panorama from the three peaks of Ribblesdale, Pendle Hill and the Bowland fells, Wharfedale to the east and Malhamdale and the Aire valley to the south was breathtaking. Definitely worth the pull up to the top.

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Dropping down the fell and heading along a trod close to a stone wall I headed back to the bridleway and back to Nappa Cross, before heading downhill back towards Malham. I followed a green path among shake holes and bare boned crags, down the side of Pikedaw Hill before crossing the fields back to Malham village, and home. Just under eight miles of awesome!

Following the same route as last time I set off along the water company track from Barley village towards the Pendle Way at Ogden Clough, up past some half empty reservoirs. By the time I reached the turning point to head up Boar Clough and across the moor up on to the plateau of Pendle itself the mist was already rolling in thickly. Dagnabbit

The wet bracken meant waterproof pants were needed shortly, which wasn’t nice in the humidity. Again I was struck by the eerieness of the place, particularly when the clag descends it isn’t hard to imagine witches flying past and trolls lurking behind the cairns. It was much greener in summer which was nice and the going was less sticky, but the trudge to the top of the hill was pretty boring repeated in the fog to be honest. After a mile and a half or so of steady climbing I emerged on the stony summit plateau and headed in a vaguely trig point like direction, until it loomed brightly out of the gloom.

After crossing the plateau and heading down towards the cobbled and stepped ‘tourist path’ I paused for a snack before bypassing the main trail for a more organic path slightly lower down, zigzagging down the fell to reach Pendle House at the bottom. A pleasant amble through fields and country lanes led back to Barley, and my dinner, in the company of a very insistent duck who practically parked himself between my feet begging for bits of sandwich.

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I had half an hour to spare on the drive back, so I stopped for a wander on Penistone Hill to get some summer pictures.

The rest of the route up the clough on to the back side of Boulsworth was pretty grim - pathless, soggy and mostly picking a path through unstable rocks, soggy rushes, steep peat banks and very long heather. After what seemed like an hour I emerged knackered on to the moor top, heading towards the Weather Stones.

The going was soft and peaty, with short windblasted grass making for easier walking up the rest of the slope, a hop over a wire fence and I was clambering up through the outcrops before heading across the summit plateau to the trig point, soaking up some panoramic views over to Pendle Hill and the Bowland fells, Ingleborough and Pen-y-ghent, and the sweep of moorland to the south and east. I dropped down the steep bank at the far end of the ridge, heading down towards Hey Slacks Clough.

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Passing the Dove Stones to my left, I followed a decent trod down to the clough before a boggy tussocky pathless plod uphill towards Grey Stone Hill. On reaching the ridge the view opened up over Widdop reservoir and the crags.

I opted to drop steadily down the escarpment below the outcrops, through thick spongy dry moss and dead bracken stubble. On reaching Widdop Road at the foot of the bank I followed the road along the side of the reservoir then Graining Water, back to Clough Foot.

After enjoying the views down into Crimsworth Dean and across the valley to High Brown Knoll I turned up the side of the ruined farm building at Nook, heading up a steep former packhorse track between crumbling walls and derelict outbuildings, on to the edge of Wadsworth Moor. The path flattened out as it skirted Shackleton Knoll at around 1200 feet, before crossing through a gate to follow a wall downhill to Walshaw. I remembered this bridleway from my last trip here and its still a horrible mudbath, though at least the path has been reinforced with hardcore at some of the sloppiest bits. Eventually I reached Walshaw and cantered cheerfully down the field to the gate leading into Rowshaw Clough, thinking the hard bit was done. 

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After the night’s heavy rain the becks were roaring, so the descent down Rowshaw Clough was awesome. Unfortunately it was a slippery one, and I ended up sliding down part of the path sprawled full length in the mud, which was too gloopy for the poles to do anything other than slide down the hill with me.  After wiping the worst of the mud off I set off downstream through Hardcastle Crags. If there’s a good time to do a ravine walk its definitely after loads of rain I reckon, provided the water isn’t over the path!   

After passing through the enclosed section between the crag walls along a boardwalk, I followed the rocky path to the mill pond, which was teeming with frogs. The onward path is squeezed between Hebden Water and the pond, before dropping down to a weir then to Gibson Mill, a former cotton mill now an NT visitor centre. More picturesque riverside and woodland clambering followed, before climbing the hill back to the car park and home for a shower. 

Got a couple of shots of the falls on the way down, before traipsing through the wood towards the caravan park. All a bit bare at the moment but still pleasant in the sunshine.

I passed through the edge of the park and up a lane between cottages, before following a slightly sticky path past an old (slightly wonky) mill chimney, then across the fields towards Cow House Bridge. On reaching the Cullingworth-Harden road I followed it uphill a little way before heading up a lovely sunken bridleway towards Catstones Moor.

After a short break I turned left along the path before heading over a stile and up towards the old quarry workings on Catstones Hill. I had fun wandering among the outcrops and old workings, others had obviously been before me judging from the signatures in the rocks. Some good views over Wilsden and the skylines above the Worth and Harden valleys from up there, after lingering a bit I set off back downhill across Keighley Road and through more muddy fields towards Sugden House.

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I got a bit stuck at Sugden House trying to find the onward path to link up with a walled track across the valley, entailing a hop over some barbed wire and a bit of a detour. Now short of time, I hurried up the track and across the top of a steep wooded slope before jogging along farm tracks back into Cullingworth.

Goitstock and Catstones walk

After a way I reached a side path which left the bridleway to follow the ridge to the top of Sharp Haw (357m/1143 feet). A quick breather at a convenient bench later I was cantering downhill towards the col, heading towards Rough Haw (339m/1084 feet), which was too inviting to just pass by. So I scrambled up the bank between the rocks and up to the cairn, before following the edge along and bouncing back down the fellside to find the bridleway again.

The ground was soggy in places on the descent towards Flasby, entailing a fair bit of muddy slithering before reaching a farm track heading into the village between rolling pastures. A left turn up another farm track took me to Septeria Gill, then up a winding track into Crag Wood.

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I followed the forestry road right through the plantation, rising steadily up the fell side again below the crags, the views over Airedale would have been good if the visibility was better. This stretch was rather melancholy as much of the lower slopes had been felled, giving the place a bleak aspect. After a couple of miles the track led down the side of Flasby Fell and back to the bridleway, where I retraced my steps the rest of the way back to the car. It was a fairly varied and enjoyable six or seven miles, shame about the miserable weather.

At this height there was still a fair bit of ice on the track, requiring a bit of dancing around, and the weather was pretty grim and windy towards the top. Plenty of moody landscape to enjoy though.  

I pressed on and finally reached the top of the pass, which was buried in snowdrifts. I wasn’t sure if continuing over the moor was a good idea, but the way was pretty obvious so I decided to go for it. I found a trod suggesting a good line between the boggy bits and the snowdrifts parallel with a ruined stone wall, and roughly followed it across the top of Wadsworth Moor with a fair bit of tussock hopping and some wading through deep snow until the boundary stone above Oxenhope Stoop Hill came into view, before the mist closed in.

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I took the sloppy path down the hill towards Drop Farm, which was holding a lot of water making for a wet, muddy and slippery descent into the clough. The solitude was worth the crap weather and the sludge underfoot - I didn’t see a soul until after a steady climb I finally reached Moorside Lane at Penistone Hill, and walked back downhill to the car. A hard walk but not without its rewards.

A bit more steady trogging and I was at the top, and after last year’s unplanned dunking I was ready for the bogs up there. I made for the boundary stone, then got the compass out and headed west across the peat and marsh grasses, easily picking out a trampled path of sorts through the bog which I followed over Dick Delf Hill (452m/1480ft), enjoying the fresh air and panoramic views into the Hebden and Worth valleys before picking up the Pennine Way and crossing Withins Height back to the Worth side of the ridge, still with fairly dry feet. I followed the flagstones a way down to Top Withens then clambered up the bank behind the ruin, following a sketchy path round the hilltop to the trig point before continuing through the heather to the Alcomden stones. At this point I still had plenty of energy and time, so I decided to press on across the moor to Crow Hill. This was bloody hard going, ploughing through knee deep heather and tussock grass. After a while the ground dipped between the stones and Crow Hill, skirting Stanbury Bog. This was not fun and half a mile of tussock hopping, squelching and splashing about ensued. I did get a soggy foot at one point when a slither into a particularly deep bog hole squirted water up past the cuff of my gaiter and down the top of my boot. 

Eventually I made it out of the mire and crossed the Wage of Crow Hill (too knackered from my flounderings to bother with the summit) to head down the trod running along the north eastern edge towards Ponden. Suddenly I was no longer alone, as I’d wandered into a noisy line of beaters. They were a friendly enough lot, and since I had to wait at the delph until the shooting had finished they gave me a land rover ride down to the lodge at the edge of Ponden Clough. Which while cheating a bit was better than being mistaken for a grouse and peppered with shot. 

Following the route the shooting estate staff suggested I took the path overlooking the clough round under Ponden Kirk, then up a steep flight of stone ’stairs’ and across the bridge before taking the onward path high above the other side of the clough enjoying some breathtaking views.

At the bottom of the slope I turned sharply back up the side of the fell and over the top, dropping down to Bronte Bridge. After a well earned breather and summat to eat I followed the path back over Haworth Moor to Penistone Hill, rounding off a cracking walk. Just a shame I couldn’t take any pictures. Have a dodgy route map instead (the dotted line was by landrover )