Keïteï Ventures

It felt like the day of stops and starts today.

Up late as I was under the cover of trees and they’re dark and cosy. Walking for 6am, I made my way to a path and follow it until I reach the Pennine Way. Lots of laminated maps and notices are stapled to posts warning hikers and walkers to stay to the path and not deviate from it. Walking through Lothersdale, it’s super quiet and I pass houses, a school and a park before turning off down a side path and head up. I stop for lunch on a bench which over looks the village and see signs of life start as a lady with a border collie jogs by and cars start zipping from A to B.

The next village is Ickornshaw and I meet two solo hikers as they begin their ascent. It’s still early and I pass a local having his first cigarette of the day in a green dressing gown. I say as he nods looking out over the valley. Up and down and I’m out of the dip. Reservoirs are next on my journey and the first one is Pondon Reservoir. A few signs are in Japanese as the location is popular due to Wuthering Heights being inspired by the area.

The temperature is steadily rising and I’m sweating. I hope for somewhere I can have a dip but nowhere obvious appears. I can see a river flowing below but it is over looked by a cluster of terraces houses as I cross from one valley, down to the next. Taking my chance, I hop a wall and head down to it. An ancient footpath bridge arches over it and paths leads off the gardens of the owners of the terraces. Large oak trees fill the sky and beech leaves cover the ground creating a soft carpet. I strip butt naked and go for a swift dip. It feels great to have a wash and I soon dry off as I head back out into the sunlight and it soon feels like hadn’t stopped at all.

I hike on and pass Lower Withins, this area is popular with tourists, day walkers, mayflies and midges. I attempt to stop for lunch twice before I give up and stomp on. The midges are relentless and without a cooling breeze I stand no chance. When I think I’m safe, I pause beside a dried up reservoir and devour my lunch happily.

Back into the moors I hike on flagstones and see dark clouds on the horizon. It’s not meant to rain but this is England. A lady emerges from the footpath and asks what trail I’m doing, how many daily miles I do? If the weather had been kind to me. She then adds Do it whilst you’re young and fit, you’ll regret it if you don’t and then disappears into the moors from where I’d come.

I drop down into Callis bridge passing lots of fruit trees and wild raspberries and end up at Rochdale canal. From there I endure a lot of ascent, through a wooded footpath, a few farms and can see Stoodley pike looming on the horizon. A huge pine forest sits next to it and once I’d finished up my climb, I head over to investigate somewhere to sleep. Hopping over a walk it’s definitely not suitable for camping. It is extremely dense and any gaps between the trees (not that I found any) were filled by uneven ground. It’s horrible as I navigate, ankle-twisting grassy knowles and make my way back to path. I soldier on and check out Stoodley Pike, a Victorian monument. It’s not long till night time now and I don’t have many options in terms of where to sleep. So I opt for a spot over looking Hebden bridge. It’s that late, that I doubt anyone is going to pass by here this late and by the time they do, it will be too dark to spot a tent.

My feet are sore as I roll into my tent. I can hear a party of some-sort in the village below as occasional sounds of singing and a guitar make their way up to me.