Lost to the Valley: A Walk Around Staups Mill

The air feels thick with history here, damp and heavy. You can feel it in the air and see it in the rich greens that cling to every surface. I’ve come to explore the ruins of Staups Mill, a place lost to time in the quiet of a West Yorkshire valley.

Staups Mill, originally called Starling Mill, was a cotton mill built in the late 18th century. It relied on the force of Blackshawhead Clough for power, a stream that then marked the border between Lancashire and Yorkshire. It’s now more commonly known as Jumble Hole Clough.

As I walked down the path, the sound of the rushing water was a constant companion. It was this same water that seems to have sealed the mill's fate. On September 24, 1896, a dam collapsed, sending a torrent of water down the clough and severely damaging the mill. The story, for all intents and purposes, ends there. All that remains are the moss-covered stone walls that now stand as a monument to the past.

The ruins themselves are impressive, but they're also a reminder of the wild, untamed nature of this landscape. The landowner has put up signs and planted trees to prevent people from getting too close, a sensible move given the unstable appearance of the remaining structure. While I was careful to respect the boundaries and didn't attempt to get closer, I do wish I could have photographed the mill from the other side, where Jumble Hole Clough flows right up to it.

On my way back, a couple of thoughts struck me. First, why on earth would they have built a mill so far out here? It's a long way from the nearest settlements, making the daily commute and the transport of goods a significant challenge. Second, I couldn't help but think about the mill workers of the 18th and 19th centuries. Heading to and from work in the bleak winter months must have been an incredibly harsh existence.

The beauty of the area now stands in stark contrast to the hardship of that era. The woodland steps, the giant moss-covered boulders, and the stunning bluebells dotting the hillside all create an atmosphere of quiet, natural beauty. It’s a place where history and nature have merged into one, and the past is slowly being reclaimed by the earth.

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Jumble Hole Clough flowing past Staups Mill, this was as close as I got to the
ruins and due to careful camera cropping it looks a lot closer than it was.

I thought this picture had a similar look to the ones of the Amityville House,
with the 2 windows like eyes at the top.

One of the streams flowing off the surrounding moors and fields into
Jumble Hole Clough, at one time this would have been me stood in
Lancashire looking across to Yorkshire.

The path away from the mill towards Blackshawhead.

I have recently been made aware that the remains of Staups Mill have been demolished.

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A Misty Morning on the Moors: Exploring Eastwood Lane, Blackshaw Head

There's a unique beauty to the Pennine landscape, especially when a gentle mist hangs in the air, softening the edges of the hills and adding an ethereal quality to the surroundings. These photos, taken on a misty May 22nd, 2022, capture just such a day around the top of Eastwood Lane, Blackshaw Head – a truly captivating corner of West Yorkshire.

Our journey begins with glimpses of quintessential country life. The scene is one of quiet solitude, with distant fields stretching out under a muted sky. The lush green of the pastures, bordered by dry stone walls, speaks of a timeless rural existence. A lone tree stands sentinel by the roadside, its branches still hinting at the cooler days of spring, while a hidden cottage peeks out from the trees, a cosy haven tucked into the landscape.

Venturing deeper, we find ourselves on a narrow, winding path – the kind that promises adventure and discovery. Overgrown with vibrant green foliage and sturdy ivy, it feels like stepping into a secret world. The path, likely well-trodden by walkers over generations, invites you to slow down, listen to the rustle of leaves, and breathe in the damp, earthy scent of the woods. It's a reminder of the many hidden routes that crisscross these hills, connecting isolated hamlets and offering breath taking views.

Further on, the landscape opens up to reveal the dramatic contours of the land, showcasing the top of Jumble Hole Clough, near Hebden Bridge. Here, the raw beauty of the moorland is on full display. A small stream meanders through the valley bottom, carving its way through the verdant slopes. The varied shades of green, from the bright, almost fluorescent grass to the deeper, richer hues of the heather-covered ground, create a rich tapestry under the overcast sky. It’s a scene that perfectly encapsulates the rugged yet serene character of the Pennines.

But perhaps the most striking feature of this walk is the imposing presence of Great Rock, Blackshaw Head. Emerging from the rolling moorland, this magnificent rock formation stands like an ancient sentinel, its weathered face hinting at centuries of exposure to the elements. On a misty day like this, its grandeur is amplified, almost appearing to float amidst the swirling fog. It's a landmark that demands attention, a natural sculpture carved by time and weather, and a fantastic focal point for anyone exploring this part of the world.

These images truly capture the essence of a tranquil, yet powerful, landscape. The subtle light and muted colours of a misty day highlight the textures of the land, from the ancient rocks to the soft moss and damp grass. It’s a reminder that even on a seemingly grey day, the British countryside offers an abundance of beauty and opportunities for quiet reflection.

If you ever find yourself near Hebden Bridge, make sure to explore the trails around Eastwood Lane and Blackshaw Head. You might just discover your own hidden gems in the mist.

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Great Rock

Perched dramatically on the edge of Staups Moor, Great Rock isn't just any stone. This imposing natural formation, sculpted from Kinderscout Grit (a rugged form of Millstone Grit), is steeped in local lore. Among the many tales whispered about its origins, one stands out, giving the rock its chilling moniker: Devil's Rock.

Legend has it that the Devil, in a audacious wager with God, attempted to stride across the valley all the way from Stoodley Pike to Great Rock. He failed, of course, but not without leaving a lasting impression. To this day, it's said that his hoof print remains seared into the rock's surface—a testament to his hubris and a permanent scar on the moorland landscape.

The following pictures were taken along Staups Lane before I took the path down to Jumble Hole Clough.

The last picture was taken at the top of Jumble Hole Clough before heading down to find Staups Mill, the purpose of my visit. The stream would have powered the mill and eventually flows in to the River Calder at the valley bottom.

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All the pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green