Vole Explosion

EVIDENTLY TROUSERTOWN

Tuesday 6^th September 2022

Standedge to Hebden Bridge

Wake up to thick fog. Empty my tent to find the water situation has mostly sorted itself out but everything is still damp. I continue walking and leave the Peak District behind. Visibility is poor but there are numerous Wheatears along this stretch, their eponymous White-arses glowing in the murk as they bounce along the track in front of me. They’ll all be heading south soon, while I’ll head north.

I reach the most easterly point in Lancashire and then find a roadside café in a shipping container. It looks like a shithole until I walk around to the other side and find it’s actually really nice inside. The service is friendly, the food is good, and they have a PW message board (although I’ve no one to leave a message for).

I cross a busy motorway and continue onto higher ground in light (but becoming heavier) rain. I’m fairly wet now but haven’t bothered to put on wet weather gear. I’m much more comfortable in knee-length shorts and a fleece. I’ve already learned to embrace the wetness and not bother too much about it.

I reach the White House pub just before it opens at midday and go in just as the heavens really open up. Heavy rain is much more enjoyable when viewed through a window with a pint in front of me.

On this stage of the walk I’m never entirely sure whether I’m in Lancashire or Yorkshire, so I’ll have to be careful what I say and to whom I say it. I’ve lived in both counties, so I don’t have a whippet in this fight.

In the pub I try to arrange some dry, non-tent-based accommodation in Hebden Bridge. The pub doesn’t have wifi so I phone a bunkhouse and get an invalid number. I try a couple of B&Bs but they’re all full. Finally I decide to walk less far today and stay at YHA Mankinholes. Using the last of my credit I phone the YHA’s booking service and get a private room for a fairly steep £49 (no dorm beds available). The line is bad and the guy can’t hear me very well. After ending the call I have a horrible feeling that he’s misheard me and booked me into YHA Manchester. Surely not! They’ve sent me a confirmation email but without wifi I can’t read it. The only thing I can do is walk on to Hebden Bridge and find a pub with wifi. There’s a bed somewhere with my name on it… now I just have to find out where it is.

The rest of the day’s walk is fairly easy apart from a kick up to Stoodley Pike, where I stop for a rest and admire the views. I walk the 39 steps up to the balcony of the monument.

Reach the Rochdale Canal at the end of the day’s walk but still have a couple of miles into Hebden. Halfway there I duck into Stubbing Wharf, a nice canal side pub where I finally find out that tonight I’m staying iiiin… Manchester! It could be worse – if they’re going to book me into the wrong hostel, better that it’s only half an hour away by train and not in Cornwall or Scotland, or even back in East Anglia. Fortunately it’s only day three so I haven’t yet become too trail-feral to function in civilization.

Continuing into Hebden Bridge, I’m delighted to read on an information board that it is known as Trouser Town due to the corduroy trade. “Get yer coat, love, I’m taking you down to trouser town” is now my new favourite chat-up line.

I catch the train to Manchester, adding another £15 to the already steep cost of the room, and then a tram to the hostel. It’s a four-bed dorm but I have it to myself so I empty my pack and spread everything out to dry. It’s started raining and I can’t be bothered going out again, so I eat a really good mac’n’cheese with garlic bread and salad at the hostel.

Today’s walk was much easier than the first two days: mostly relatively gentle inclines, cooler weather and a handy café and pubs just when I needed them. A textbook hiking day – apart from the obvious accommodation balls-up.

I’m in a much more positive frame of mind today.

14.5 miles; 23.5 km; 7.5 hours