Lothersdale to Colden – an unexpected pleasure

We got up early to get some bacon butties in Hebden Bridge and to drive on to where I left off in Lothersdale. The route today was through Bronte Country with wind-blasted moors and stark hillsides. Meandering 16 miles up hill and down dale to the rendezvous point, the New Delight Inn, Colden where we had spent last night camping in the back field. Debs – oh bugger it, everybody calls her Che – Che was dropping me off, coming back to Colden to derig my tent and push on to Marsden to put her own tent up, for me to sleep in. It’s big and comfortable. Marsden is one day ahead of where I’ll finish today but I’ll stay there for two nights. Means I don’t have to carry my rucksack for a day when Che’s gone. But she’ll take her tent with her and put my little one (tent) up. 

Bacon butty mission accomplished we, me, Che and her dog Flo, walked together up the hill out of Lothersdale in the wind and the rain, and the backstreets and the backstreets.

Looking back Lothersdale looked lovely, even in the rain.

The route cut over the moors to Ponsden and the weather started clearing up a bit.

On the top the views were brilliant, with the purple heather playing a starring role.

The moors give you wet boots, peak bog sinking in to your socks, rain and wind. They also give you an enormous sense of spiritual freedom. Expecting a punchline? There int one. I felt it. 

Che and Flo had gone back to shift the stuff early on so I was alone mostly today, as usual, and I enjoyed it. Beautiful views, no rucksack and only moderate foot pain. I passed and looked back at Ponden reservoir.

I was also really taken with this little view up a valley but the photo doesn’t quite do justice to the pleasure it gave me. The purple heather topping the variety of colours.

Now I was really into Bronte country and the footpath signs included directions in Chinese!

Directly on the Pennine Way is the shell of Top Withens. Clearly significant in Bronte history.

Onwards, upwards and over the Way runs alongside reservoirs high in the Pennines feeding down drinking water to Halifax, Bradford and Leeds.

I made it to the New Delight Inn at 6pm, bang on rendezvous timing, and we shot over to the tent at Marsden. Che was cooking lamb chops on couscous for us and when it was on we nipped next door to the The Carriage House pub, where the campsite was based. A couple of drinks took us long enough for Flo to get wrongly accused of biting a member of staff. Much to Che’s denial. The owner of the pub came to complain about it. I asked her if she wanted us to execute the dog but she and my sister both thought that was an unhelpful comment. I nearly peed myself. I thought it was brilliantly funny. 

We got an early night after an excellent meal. Cheers Che. 

Night night.