Stottie Walks

Leaving Mankinholes with my belly full of porridge, I rejoined the Pennine Way, crossed the River Calder and climbed steeply and slowly to the high ground. I took a rest beside Colden Water, where a hiker with a huge rucksack sped by with a cheery greeting. A few minutes later I caught up with him as he cooked a gloopy meal on his stove. Despite the load on his back, he had committed to a much tougher schedule than mine.

From Withins Height there are views across Bronte Country to Otley Chevin and Ilkley Moor, the hills where I grew into hiking. That panorama was an encouraging measure of my northbound progress. The bleak moors would soon give way to the green fields of Craven and the beauty of the Yorkshire Dales. It was also a reminder of my fortunate childhood and the encouragement I’d received from parents and others to experience outdoor pursuits.

On this day, progress wasn’t easy. In contrast with Sunday’s watershed route, I was crossing the steep-sided valleys of eastward-flowing streams. I wasn’t carrying much gear, but the weight in my rucksack and the rigours of the previous day slowed me on the ascents.

It’s said that many Pennine Wayfarers give up on their first day. Those who persevere might yet be worn down by the South Pennines, and I knew I was not yet through “giving-up” territory. The landlord of the Black Bull Inn (now closed) at Cowling regaled me once with examples of despair, disappointment and failure, as well as stories of youths he’d helped by sending their excess baggage home. He’d occasionally acted as “postman”, handing over money mailed to the pub for people who had found camping too hard but would continue by using B&Bs.

On Ickornshaw Moor I phoned Olwyn, my landlady, telling her I’d begun my descent, but it took me longer to reach Cowling than I’d expected. I ate and drank well at the Dog & Gun in Malsis with fellow Wayfarers Robert and Daniel.

Looking back at Stoodley Pike from the steep climb out of the Calder valley

The narrow path to Colden Water

Below the Gorple Reservoirs, the stream burbles in sheltered beauty amidst bleak, windswept moors

Top Withins, which is not “Wuthering Heights”, though the location might have been known to Emily Bronte

Looking back at Ponden Reservoir – one more moor to my B&B at Cowling

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