Cowling to White House

Another dawn start, although these days this doesn’t mean getting up early. After gaining height in grassy fields I headed straight up onto the moors. The Pennine Way skirts the moor, passing a number of wooden shacks that would have been very tempting if I had passed by last night. A ruined stone barn points to a thin path that strikes out across the moor. I had faith that this would deliver me to the other side and not into the depths of some remote peat grough. Occasionally disorientated by the lack of features amongst the bilberry, heather and long grass, it was reassuring to find lines of Pennine mill flagstones improving the boggier sections.

Eventually a wall joins alongside and a steep and direct descent to the shores of Pondon reservoir is required. After a small climb to join a track looking over the water, the signposts begin to get Japanese translations. This is Brontë country. After revisiting the shoreline, the Way heads quickly uphill to visit the ruins of Top Withens, famous for bearing no resemblance to Wuthering Heights. From here the day repeated the theme of crossing moors and strolling along the shores of reservoirs. On Heptonstall moor the sheer number of paths was confusing and I’ll admit to losing the proper line of the Way.

The afternoon provided a chance to stretch my tiring limbs with a couple of steep valleys. The first is merely a warm up, descending to use a small bridge across a stream, while industrial Calderdale is impressive in its scale. After picking a way down to the valley floor among little stone cottages clinging to the hillside, it is then hard work all the way up to Stoodley Pike Monument. By now mist was forming around me and it was a bit of a surprise when this 120ft tower popped into existence. Having said that, it is perhaps nicer than spotting something a long way off and then spending hours actually reaching it.

With darkness approaching and the mist thickening, I needed to get across the last bit of moor and onto the tracks that run alongside three more reservoirs as soon as possible. After correctly choosing the right moment to leave the steep rocky edge I was following away from the monument, I could relax a little.

The rest of the day had a slightly surreal feel to it. I was walking on a straight track with the reservoir wall on one side, the only sound being the water lapping up against it. On the other side was a steep grass bank that quickly faded into mist. The dim light blurred these repetitive features and I was moving through a dream world. I could walk as much as I wanted, but I never got anywhere and nothing ever changed. It was quite beautiful.