This is actually a 20-mile walk, consisting of a 17-mile circuit with a one and a half mile "stub" to Hebden Bridge along which you must also return. This being March, with sunset at 6pm, we decided to go for just the main route. Depart around 10.30, back around 6, that was the plan. Could we do it?It wasn't a good start, various factors meaning we didn't get under way until 10.45. Still, we could make that up with a good pace. We proceeded down Haworth High Street, perched precipitously on the edge of the Worth Valley, then turned right at the Church, once ministered by the Reverend Patrick Bronte.
From here it was along the Bronte Way for a while, before veering off left across lush emerald pastures and through narrow gritstone stiles. The day's weather had looked as if it was going to be a little iffy and we hadn't gone too far when it started to rain. Beyond Leeshaw Reservoir this turned to sleet and it was through this, heads down, that we trudged up Stairs Hill.
Dale and Neil recovering at Top of Stairs
This is the first big climb of the walk, the summit being called Top of Stairs – it certainly felt like it! At least the tracks were good, so it wasn't too muddy underfoot.
Cock Hill Moor Research Station
Visible from here on the edge of Oxenhope Moor is the Waggon & Horses, also known as the Moorland Ale House from a more recent reincarnation. According to local Bradford folklore, this is the pub people would go to if they were having an affair. It’s not difficult to see why – this remote hostelry is the last pub in the Bradford District before Calderdale, which begins at the top of the desolate, windswept moor at Cock Hill. Here you would be safe, and unrecognised (or at least have the guarantee of mutually assured marital destruction in the event you were…!). Further along the horizon are the satellite dish and aerials of Bradford University’s Cock Hill research station, whose perimeter straddles the Borough boundary. When I was a boy this had a thrilling, space age look about it but in this modern age of ubiquitous Sky TV receivers somewhat less so. Now weather-beaten and covered in graffiti it looks rather ugly.
From here we descended along the side of Crimsworth Dean towards Hebden Bridge. The weather had now completely changed, the sun was shining and the last vestiges of cloud disappearing. Heptonstall Church is clearly visible on top of the spur which forms a middle horizon, and the needle of Stoodley Pike monument on the far horizon. There were now only three miles (and at the rate we were going, less than an hour) until lunch. After a fairly inauspicious start this was turning into a fine day. Waterproofs were removed and re-stowed in rucksacks, fleeces are unzipped and sunglasses donned. We merrily tramped along through National Trust woodland and eventually arrived at Horse Bridge and the car park. Several large logs and stones provided seating for lunch, and Cornish pasties and sausage rolls bought in Haworth were brought out. An Anthony Gormley-style statue carved from wood watched over us while we ate. We were now at a fork in the track – left was the route “Stub“ leading down the valley to Hebden Bridge, a 3-mile return journey. But this would push the total walk distance to an exhausting 20 miles and have meant the last hour would have been in darkness. Hebden is a fascinating town and the little time afforded by this detour could not do it justice – better on this occasion to continue right towards Gibson Mill and Hardcastle Crags.
Gibson Mill
Jo and Neil in the muddy boot cafe in Gibson Mill
Gibson Mill is a visitor centre for Hardcastle Crags, built originally as a cotton mill in 1800 it is a fascinating place:
Best of all it has a stone floored, naturally lit muddy boot cafe serving hot drinks and home-made cakes. This was a very welcome stop and very conveniently situated towards the middle of the route.
From here the route continued up a forest track past the crags, emerging within sight of Wadsworth Moor, across which lay our return route. The moor was bathed in golden afternoon sunshine and it was a very pleasant ascent.
Walshaw Reservoirs
At Walshaw Reservoirs we joined the slabbed Pennine Way, which snaked away to the north east and our next destination, the ruined farmhouse known as Top Withens. Before long we came across this memorial stone bearing the inscription "E. Wilkinson. A Rambler. Died Aug 31 1964, Aged 35." Taking the opportunity for a breather (puffing away at almost 3 years older), I contemplated this for a few moments. Whoever it was wasn't a Pennine Way walker, as that trail didn't come into existence until the following April. Did they die here? Or was this just a favourite spot? A mystery. (Subsequently I discovered - from Wainwright's Pennine Way Companion - that the stone was laid by the Spen Valley Ramblers. More on the memorial here: http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/394604) 
On the Pennine Way approaching Top Withens, visible centre-left
Onwards we marched, up the brow of the hill, the name "TOPWIT" (short for Top Withens) on my GPS, the distance to go counting down. 0.6 miles, 800 yards...still walking. 700 yards, 600 yards and we're at the brow of the hill...500, 400...and there it is! It seemed strange to see this familiar landmark from this angle. Normally the ruin, allegedly the inspiration for Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, marks the Ultima Thule for visitors to Bronte Country, before turning back for the comforts of Haworth. Certainly our arrival from an unusual direction attracted some interest from the few people there.
Top Withens
Contemplating the final strait
From here it was a straight 3.5 miles back to Haworth, and we had an hour and a quarter to do it in. The sun was setting as we walked over Penistone Hill and back down the hill towards the High St. Dale unfortunately pulled a muscle here (there can't be many Yorkshire hills that have bested a Scotsman...) But we had done it - and at some speed, a moving average of 3mph all the way round. And ahead lay a hot bath, hot food and an evening spent in the company of Mr Timothy Taylor...
Sunset view across Penistone Hill - half a mile to go
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