Today was excellent weather for the easy and interesting 11.8 mile walk. But before that, it was a quiet morning in Haworth without the tourists and coach loads of students filling the streets, and I felt well and peppy after a good night’s rest so I decided to take a stroll after breakfast. Haworth became a popular destination shortly after the Brontë sisters all died pretty young and already famous in the mid-19th century, and so it has been more or less preserved like it was at that time. It was an evocative walk.
Back at the Old White Lion pub, I made sure to pack up a lot of water and an extra couple oranges from the breakfast bar so I could keep any cold symptoms that might return at bay during the day. Then we began the climb up to the moors. Villages tend to be down in valleys, which means there will be a climb out in the morning. After a brief time in pastureland where the day’s stile challenges began and the hawthorn trees were in beautiful bloom, we were in the moors again. They may be wet and rocky in places, but they are certainly easy to navigate through. Just follow the flagstone path!
We walked over Old Bess Hill to Cat Stone Hill, and then through a long stretch of Ickornshaw Moor. There was an unusually placed stone dwelling (there is typically nothing up on the moors), and then many small huts. Some huts had mini ones next to them with windows in their doors. All of these places looked as if they are still being used, but they were locked up and windows shuttered. I noticed in the distance an odd almost circle of rocks with what looked like a ledge inside to sit on. My curiosity got the better of me and I had to google it over lunch in the Hound and Hare, a happily placed pub a couple valleys further on. It turns out I had guessed correctly and they are shelters for grouse hunting, and Bill had guessed correctly and the mini shelters were for the dogs. The stone round things were used as shooting blinds. Most fascinating though was that this moorland is a Common that belongs to the local villagers to grouse hunt, given to them by the Lord of the Manor back in the 1500s. They have had to fight to keep their rights, and have won many days in court over the centuries. Fortunately, grouse hunting season is between August and December so we were safe walking through.
Continuing on we walked down into Ickornshaw village and back out and up. More downs and ups, lots of sheep, bog cotton growing across the landscape, the pub lunch, pastures, moors, then the stone wall where the pastures end and the heather of the moor begins. After an hour or so we found ourselves at Pinhaw Beacon with its fabulous 360degree views. We could see the miles of hills we had come from, and the hills we were headed towards. I was mixed with excitement and a bit of dread to see the famous Pen-Y-Ghent mountaintop we are due to cross over in a week or so.
Our final descent of the day was into Elslack, and it couldn’t have been more delightful. First there was a clear, soft and even path through yellow flowers that was so fun I ran to the bottom of it. Then we climbed over yet another high stone stile, and into a long field of the best lambs and ewes yet. I have walked through fields of lambs for 450 miles, everyday: they are all cute. I try not to think about the fact they will be lamb chops come August. The sheep in this field, though, were of a different order of cuteness. They were whiter (cleaner, less poop and mud all over them), they weren’t as scared and seemed curious of us, they were cuddling each other, the lambs were gambling more, and the very first group we saw was a ewe and three lambs, triplets! Ewes often have twins, and with two teats with which to nurse, this is the ideal. But this mommy was obviously taking good care of all three of her lambs.
We continued to our pub for the night, The Tempest Arms. I felt great, like I could walk 5 more miles. All cold symptoms appear much reduced. I unpacked, took a shower, rested a bit, then I stood up to make a cup of tea and almost collapsed. My left heel felt like a knife was stabbing into it. Ugh. I think it’s plantar fasciitis flaring up. Fingers crossed that the stabbing, excruciating pain disappears tonight.
