A Gritty Ramble up the Ryburn Valley and round Ripponden

“Into the valley” 🎶 – The Skids

“You just need to find your new tribe!”

Back in 2023, at a time when I had really struggled mentally to adapt to so many life changes in such a short time, those immortal words had been uttered by my friend Jo, a simply brilliant headteacher who runs a small primary school high up in the Dales of North Yorkshire.

Jo had been so right! 

You see, most humans want and need regular connection. 

Me: being a true socialite, needs it more than most. 

So it was a very comforting thought as I parked up on Monday.

I was going walking again, back in my old stomping ground of the beautiful Pennine hills of Calderdale, with a particularly compelling group of walkers.

‘The Midweek Wayfarers, 8 Milers’. 

They are firmly established as one of my “new tribes” and I have loved every single walk I have completed with this hardy group of trekkers, over the last 2+ years.  

Today’s walk promised to be fantastic and it didn’t disappoint.

By 10.30, all 14 of us were assembled and we set out on a walk that proved to be expertly guided by Jill, our leader for the day.

Most of my career in education was also forged in those same Pennine hills.

I had worked as a senior leader in a Halifax based secondary special school since 1995, having assumed the ‘ultimate prize’ (or should that be ‘poisoned chalice’ (😜) of the Headteacher position.

I had coordinated the leadership of that school for the final 15 years of my teaching career, before retiring in late 2020, at the end of Lockdown 1.  

I clearly remember back in 2014, Calderdale Council commissioning an expensive London based public relations company to better promote the borough as a business and visitor attraction.

At the time Calderdale was being used more and more as a landscape location for police and crime dramas for mainstream productions by film and TV companies. Popular series like ‘Last Tango in Halifax’, ‘Happy Valley’ and ‘Gentleman Jack’ had attracted huge audiences and had definitely put Calderdale on the map.

That PR campaign of 2014 cost over £40,000 at the time and attracted a fair amount of criticism for being a waste of taxpayer’s money.

The tagline those expensively recruited consultants came up with:

‘Calderdale: Pretty Gritty’.

True enough, but value for money?

You decide.

Hmmm.

I guess the jury is still out on that one.

However, it is fair to recognise that the ‘pretty gritty’ descriptor, perfectly fitted our walk of choice this September day.

This was a beautiful circular walk: albeit, with nearly 1500 feet of elevation.

Unfortunately you can’t really walk anywhere in Calderdale without being presented with steep valley floor to hill top, elevations.

The walk started at the historic Bridge Inn, on Priest Lane less than 200 metres from St Bartholomew’s Church in the centre of Ripponden.

There are records dating part of the inn back to 1377 and it is recognized as one of Yorkshire’s oldest pubs.

Interestingly, the pub was owned by the local church for over 200 years from 1653 to 1897.

A unique case of ‘Spirit combined with Spirit?’🍺

It was 10.30am and a little early for a sampling of the pub’s drinks menu, although some 4 hours later most of our hardy band of ‘Wayfarers’ dutifully retired to the Bridge Inn for a deserved, celebratory tipple.

But first things first: on with the walk.

We crossed over the hump backed bridge in front of the pub and skirted the front of the impressively tall St. Bartholomew’s Church with its most spectacular of steeples.

Legendary British steeplejack Fred Dibnah, who was born in nearby Bolton, is reputed to have worked on the steeple tower at the church.

I don’t mind heights: but that church has a dramatically high and steeply pitched roof.

Rather him than me!

We crossed the Greetland Road and join the river side path that leads out of Ripponden in the direction of Rishworth.

We followed the gently babbling River Ryburn for approximately half a mile.

Don’t be fooled!

This river has the ability to punch.

Back in 2015  the Ryburn and its mainstream tributary, the River Calder, dramatically burst their banks on Boxing Day causing massive flooding across Calderale.

Today though, after the driest summer on record, it just babbled!

We left the river bank to cross the main road that leads 4 miles over the moors to join exit 22 of the M62, at a section that is recognised as Britain’s highest motorway.

A commemorative bench marked the former site of Rishworth Railway Station.

A train service  operated here from 1881 to 1952, with its demise taking place a dozen years before Lord Beeching notoriously decimated Britain’s ‘inefficient’ railway system. 

We crossed the A672 and joined the footpath that took us up the Ryburn valley: gently elevated, wood lined and pretty in the late summer sun, but almost certainly quite dark and ‘gritty’ in the winter months that will start to loom soon enough.

The more steeply inclined valley rose above us on both sides.

We passed multiple black faced stone properties, many of which would date back to the mid to late 19th century.

One dwelling had the longest porch I have ever seen.

Our route bisected an expensive looking estate of larger, more modern houses, but even allowing for the dry summer, it was possible to see from the moss and lichen that clung to the stone walls, that this is often a damp spot throughout the year.

We passed an old mill pond, testimony to the textile industry which was a big player in these parts in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Within 20 minutes, the last houses of Ripponden fell behind us and our path took us to Ryburn Reservoir, the first of the 2 upper valley reservoirs that serve Calderdale and Halifax in particular.

Jill, our walk leader, was carrying a well thumbed paper map to help her guide the route.

It was fascinating to see a beautiful proper hand sketched map again: especially in an age where so many of us utilize online technology and apps like OS Maps, Komoot and All Trails to support our navigation.

‘Dazzling Jill’ was attired in a brilliant white long sleeved cotton shirt.

Despite the heat of the day, especially as it got quite warm later in the afternoon, her shirt retained its extraordinary ‘Daz White’ hue:  or was it ‘Persil White?’

(Other laundry products do exist!)

I reflected wryly, that if I dressed in white I would already be pretty mucky.

Jill just radiated all day! 

The water levels were understandably lower on both Ryburn and its more elevated neighbour, Baitings  reservoir, but not as dramatically low as in the summer months of previous years.

The North/South drought divide of 2026 was evidenced right here.

Whilst most of the south and south east of the UK was parched and browned by over 35 days of continuous hot sunshine in July and August, this corner of Yorkshire never fully lost ‘the green, green grass of home’ look.

We followed the northern shores of both reservoirs.

The vegetation was green and lush, the blackberries ripe and ready for picking, but not in the abundance of previous years.

My friend Marc reckoned the summer heat had reduced their harvest.

Toadstools of all colours and sizes, were beginning their annual ‘pop ups.’

Holly berries were starting on their Yuletide journey into the red.

Itching powder berries, that gave the kids of my generation, so much sadistic joy, we’re in full ‘itch mode’.

We passed the last house on the road that leads over those bleak moors in the direction of Rochdale.

That house had been the previous family home of Neil, a former colleague of mine, back in the 90’s, who was also on the staff team at my school.

Neil had previously worked for Yorkshire Water before joining us at Ravenscliffe.

He, his wife Jane and  son Carl had lived here until they moved to Southport.

Carl was a highly accomplished pianist. He had won a prestigious weekly boarder scholarship to attend the world famous Chetham’s School of Music near Manchester.

Some 15 years later, he is still working in the music industry.

I remembered that Neil and Jane had kept venomous snakes in that house and I’m pretty sure that I remember hearing about one of them escaping!

It was only found several weeks later on: fast asleep behind a radiator! 

Blimey!

I could not sleep in a house with a man-eating venomous snake on the loose!

By now we had reached the famous ‘Spewing Well’: a dramatic pipe fed water discharge point on the northern shore of Ryburn Reservoir.

After a deluge of rain, this ‘geyser’ can provide a dramatic visual display as water ‘spews forth’ rhythmically, every 4-5 seconds.

Above Baitings Reservoir, our path joined the pavement along the main road for a few hundred meters, before we branched off onto a new footpath that took us towards the principal elevation in this area: Great Manshed Hill at 417 metres.

The views were amazing with dark, threatening rain clouds bubbling up in the west.

Our conversations on these walks are always as interesting as the walk themselves.

My walking companions are an interesting and eclectic bunch of people.

Many are retired, but not all.

We have an equal spread of ladies and gents who have a whole plethora of trades behind them: nurses, doctors, quarrymen, aircraft engineers, hospitality gurus, dentists, entrepreneurs and just the one ex headteacher.

We even have Sharon, a cheesemonger, in our group.

We all share a common passion for the outdoors, for chatting and all commit to taking it in turns to plan and lead a walk, usually local to where we live.

Our geographical spread is huge.

Bob and ‘Judo Jo’, (don’t mess with Jo, she has a black belt in …… karate not judo! – as the blogger I am permitted some literary licence!), both live out west, in Meltham and Sowerby Bridge.

Several of our group live on the outskirts of Skipton and Leeds and I myself, live right out near Pateley Bridge on the borders of the old East Riding of Yorkshire.

Earlier on the walk I had chatted with John and Colin.

John had just celebrated his 80th birthday!

Amazing!

John walks like a very fit 40 year old.

80?

No way!

Colin is a very fit 84 year old.

The patriarch of our group, I strongly suspect that the Wayfarers offers Colin as much fulfilment as it does me.

Colin actually walks with them, twice weekly, on Mondays and Thursdays.

A drive to a Monday walk could take me up to 90 minutes, particularly if it in the western fringes of West Yorkshire.

But it is always worth that effort.

Our usual turnout for a 4 hour/8 mile walk, averages at about 18.

A few of our regulars were away for Jill’s walk, but those who did come were great company as ever.

We definitely ‘chew some cud’ as we ‘walk ‘n talk’.

Conversations that I was connected to showed huge diversity and included: walking when you are 80, a debate about the tensions  between medicine and science to treat serious medical conditions, the absence of rain on Mondays: and even Marmite: love it or loathe it!

Richard was adamant that his own health related treatment was influenced by 4 things:

Diet, exercise, attitude, drugs or supplements.

In that order.

Whilst the sole influence of medicine on recovery, remained a topic open to debate, there was universal agreement that a good diet and attitude can positively help with even the toughest diagnosis.

Marc, who walks with his wife Annie, spent 15 minutes trying to convince me of the merits of Marmite, peanut butter and cheese sandwiches!

I love thinly spread Marmite, but not with peanut butter?

Yuck!

Annie, his wife loves to spiral marmite patterns onto toast in carefully administered swirls.

It was an appropriate pre lunch chat.

I remembered my brother in law Tony assuring and amusing me, at a time when I was struggling with the unique challenges of bereavement, retirement and relocation:

“Martin, you just need to find people you can talk ‘shi** with!’

I love talking ‘shi**’.

Tony is world class in this field!

Our Wayfarers seem to manage it very well too: every Monday!

We took a break on the top of Great Menshed Hill just a few hundred feet from the trig point.

The conversations around Marmite reminded me of a memorable walk that I had done here with my son Jake, and his friend Freddy, back in 2018.

I had taken a flask of hot water and a jar of Marmite with me as a ‘winter warmer’.

It is a sublime drink when it is cold: so much nicer than Bovril in my humble opinion.

If you don’t believe me, just ask the shaggy cow in the photo I took then.

It had started licking the jar when I balanced it on a wall as we took a break on that same hill, all those years ago.

The views west across to Saddleworth Moor and the northern conurbations around Manchester were extensive.

Annie perched on a bench: swinging her legs dangling off the ground, like she probably had done years ago at school.

Rain hinted in the west but stayed away.

A solitary cow, spied on us from its secret lair.

Emley Moor mast was visible to the south east and Stoodley Pike gave out its usual ‘siren call’ to the north as it gleamed in the watery sunshine.

Our highest point of the walk was now conquered.

Jill, still resplendent in her ‘Daz white’ shirt, led us on a gentle descent on a labyrinth of easily accessible footpaths to where we joined the principal path in these parts: ‘The Calderdale Way’ and our return route to the Bridge Inn where we had started.

As we descended, I gave my apologies.

I was about to break off towards the top of Ripponden as I wanted to catch up with my great friends Jon and Tracy who I have known for over 30 years.

The best walks always have the best finishes in my opinion and I love the opportunity to catch up with local friends and family, if I am ever in their vicinity.

Some 20 minutes later, as I entered their kitchen dining room, I was privileged enough to meet up with not just Jon and Tracy, but my old friends Jill, Karen and Mike.

Tracy had invited them all over for a cuppa to catch up with me and I was very touched.

When people make an effort for you, it is heartwarming!

Those 5 are a classy combo!

The next hour was full of giggles and reminiscences and passed in a flash, all too quickly.

As I drove home, I once again reflected on the simple joys of such a lovely walk and fantastic company both during and after that ramble.

Not for the first time I had to pinch myself.

If this is retired living, long may it continue.

Some walk details to finish.

Big thanks to Allan, a very talented photographer in his own right, who shared some of his photographs from our walk.

My thanks to ‘King’ Richard for being the Mastermind behind the concept of this ‘Midweek Wayfarers Great Yorkshire Walks’ book. 

Hopefully we can get that book to be a ‘thing!’

This walk and blog was a test run.

I would be grateful for any feedback: good or bad.

Once again many thanks for the read.

And here’s our walk: or my adopted version of it anyway.

Unfortunately I had started but not finished at The Bridge

Martin x

Massive thanks as ever, to my Derbyshire based Editor in Chief, Sarah Cross. Sarah can spot a typo a mile off. Hopefully her attention to detail has helped me to go ‘💯% typo free again!’ 

Sarah often comes to stay with Nicky and I. She’s great fun and a very loyal friend.

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All of my photographs are ‘seen as ‘scene’!’

I really want you to see what I saw when I pressed my shutter: not a touched up version of a non reality.

My hunt for the perfect photograph continues! 🤷🏼‍♂️

Martin Moorman is a 61 year old retired Headteacher who lives with his wife Nicky, daughter Rosie and her family in North Yorkshire, UK.

Martin and Nicky have 3 grown up children, Rosie, Harry and Jake, all happily married too. In his spare time Martin loves walking, photography, blogging, football, renovating, cooking and chatting to anyone who will listen!