Ending the Year on a High: A New Year’s Eve Trek to Stoodley Pike

Date: December 31, 2016 Location: Todmorden, West Yorkshire Camera: Nikon D3300

There are few better ways to say goodbye to an old year than by climbing above the noise of daily life and standing on top of the world—or at least, on top of the Calder Valley.

On New Year's Eve, 2016, I took my Nikon D3300 up the muddy tracks to one of West Yorkshire’s most iconic landmarks: Stoodley Pike Monument. The air was biting, the light was fading into a winter gloaming, and the moors were silent.

Join me on a walk to the "Sentinel of the Valley."

The Ascent

The climb up to Stoodley Pike is never a casual stroll, especially in the depths of winter. The Pennine Way crosses here, and the path is well-trodden by centuries of boots. As I made my way up, the winter light began to shift, turning the rough moorland grass into a sea of rusted gold.

The approach. The muddy tracks leading the eye straight to the obelisk, standing solitary against the grey winter sky.

There is a stark beauty to the moors in December. The Nikon D3300 did a fantastic job capturing the texture of the dry grasses and the heavy, cloud-laden sky. It felt like the weather was holding its breath, waiting for the year to turn.

A View of Todmorden

As you gain elevation, the town of Todmorden falls away beneath you. One of my favourite shots from the day was looking back down into the valley..

The view from the heights. You can just see the streetlights and house lights flickering on in Todmorden, warm specs of amber against the cooling blue of the hills.

This image captures the isolation of the Pike. Down there, people were likely preparing for New Year's Eve parties, warming their homes. Up here, it was just the wind and the sheep.

The Peace Monument

Standing at 121 feet (37 meters) tall, Stoodley Pike Monument is imposing up close. Interestingly, the structure we see today is actually the second monument on this site. The first, built in 1814 to commemorate the defeat of Napoleon, collapsed in 1854 after a lightning strike and decades of weathering. The current structure was completed in 1856, built to mark the end of the Crimean War.

The monument framed by the rugged gritstone boulders that litter the summit.

Standing tall. The darkening stonework contrasts sharply with the pale winter sky, emphasizing the monument's brooding presence.

It is a structure born of war, yet built for peace, standing guard over the valley for over 160 years.

Into the Darkness

Unlike many follies and monuments that are sealed off, Stoodley Pike invites you in. The entrance is a small, dark opening at the base that leads to a spiral staircase. There are no windows on the way up—it is a pitch-black ascent (a torch or phone light is highly recommended!) that eventually opens up onto a balcony.

The heavy stone base and the entrance. The massive blocks of stone give you a sense of the engineering required to keep this standing against the fierce Pennine winds.

The Balcony View

Stepping out onto the balcony is a visceral experience. The wind usually hits you with renewed force, but the view is worth it. You are standing some 1,300 feet above sea level.

Looking out from the balcony. The weathered stone railing, carved with the initials of visitors from decades past, overlooks the vast expanse of the moorland plateau.

Final Reflections

As the light finally gave way, I captured a silhouette of the monument. It felt like a fitting end to the photo walk—a strong, enduring shape against the fading light of 2016.

The silhouette of the Pike. A simple, powerful geometry against the morning sky.

Visiting Stoodley Pike is a reminder of the permanence of the landscape compared to the fleeting nature of our years. If you find yourself in West Yorkshire, pack your boots and your camera. The hike is steep, but the perspective it offers is unmatched.

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All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

Chasing Winter Light: A Sunday Stroll in Sowerby Bridge

 Date: December 1, 2019 Location: Sowerby Bridge, West Yorkshire Gear: Nikon D3300

There is something uniquely crisp about the first day of December. It marks the meteorological start of winter, where the light sits lower in the sky, the shadows stretch longer, and the air bites just enough to make you walk a little faster.

Back in 2019, I took my Nikon D3300 out for a Sunday wander through Sowerby Bridge. This corner of the Calder Valley is a photographer's playground, offering a perfect triad of subjects: the industrial stillness of the Rochdale Canal, the raw power of the River Calder, and the skeletal beauty of Dixon Scar Woods.

Join me on a walk through the frost and the history of West Yorkshire.

The Glassy Stillness of the Cut

The walk began on the towpath of the Rochdale Canal. One of the joys of canal photography in winter is the lack of boat traffic, which turns the water into a near-perfect mirror. The greenery of summer has faded, revealing the structural "bones" of the landscape—the stone walls and the bare branches.

The long view along the Rochdale Canal. The blue sky reflects perfectly in the water, creating a peaceful, leading line through the valley.

Moving closer to the town centre, the relationship between the waterway and the industrial heritage becomes clearer. Sowerby Bridge was built on wool and engineering, and the old mills still tower over the water.

Where industry meets leisure. A boat sits quietly moored beneath the towering stone walls of the converted mills.

Crossing the Canal

Crossing over the Rochdale Canal, I headed toward the River Calder. Unlike the man-made tranquillity of the canal, the river is untamed and energetic. To get there, you often have to traverse the old infrastructure that stitches this town together.

I’ve always had a soft spot for the "Co-Op Bridge." It isn’t pretty in the conventional sense—it’s rusted, covered in graffiti, and utilitarian—but it has character. It frames the transition from the urban streets to the wilder woods perfectly.

The texture of the city. The rusted iron lattice and stone steps of the Co-Op Bridge provide a gritty contrast to the nature that surrounds it.

The Roar of Hollins Mill

Just downstream, the sound of water dominates the air. The weir at Hollins Mill is a reminder of the power that once drove the industry here. Even on a calm day, the water rushes over the stone steps with impressive force.

A wide view of Hollins Mill Weir. You can see how the houses cling to the hillside, overlooking the tumbling water.

I spent some time here playing with the shutter speed on the Nikon D3300 to capture the movement of the water crashing over the historic stonework.

The power of the Calder. The intricate stonework of the weir breaks the water into white foam as it heads downstream.

Into Dixon Scar Woods

Crossing the river leads you into Dixon Scar Woods. This area feels ancient, especially in winter. The leaves had mostly fallen, carpeting the floor in varying shades of brown and gold, allowing the low winter sun to pierce through the canopy in spectacular fashion.

Looking back at the river from the edge of the woods. The mossy trees dip their branches into the cold, blue water.

The highlight of the walk, however, was the light in the clearing. The sun was positioned just behind the tree line on the ridge, creating a stunning "starburst" effect that illuminated the frosty mist clinging to the meadow. It was one of those moments you have to be quick to capture before the clouds shift.

The golden hour strikes at midday. A perfect sunburst through the trees illuminates the frosty grass and a dog enjoying a morning run.

The quiet meadow. The frost lingers in the shadows of the valley floor, creating a cool, textured foreground against the wooded hill.

Final Thoughts

Looking back at these photos from 2019, I'm reminded that you don't need to travel far to find beautiful landscapes. Sowerby Bridge offers a density of photographic opportunities—from gritty industrial textures to ethereal woodland light—all within a mile's walk.

If you ever find yourself in West Yorkshire on a crisp winter day, take a walk down the cut and into the woods. Just don't forget your camera.

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All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

Stepping Back in Time: A Sepia Afternoon at Hebden Bridge Station

 Date: November 21, 2013 Camera: Samsung Galaxy Tablet

There are some places that seem to resist the pull of the modern world, where the clock ticks a little slower, and the air feels heavy with history. Hebden Bridge Railway Station is one of those places.

On a crisp afternoon in November 2013, I found myself on the platform with my Samsung Galaxy tablet. Looking through the lens, the scene didn't feel like the 21st century at all. In fact, when I switched to sepia, the station transformed completely, revealing its true Victorian soul.

Join me for a walk through this historic gem of the West Riding.

The Arrival

The first thing you notice about Hebden Bridge is that it doesn't look like a modern commuter stop. It feels like a film set. As the train pulls away, you aren't left with concrete and plastic, but with iron, stone, and silence.

A train departs, leaving behind the quiet charm of the platform. Note the "Coffee Station" sign on the left—a beloved local fixture occupying the former parcels office.

The station you see today is actually the second iteration. The original Manchester & Leeds Railway station opened here in 1840, but the current buildings date back to 1891-1893, built by the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway (L&YR). The sepia tone of these photos captures that 1890s atmosphere perfectly; if you removed the modern train, this could easily be 1913.

Victorian Grandeur

Walking along the platform, the architecture demands your attention. In the 1990s, the station underwent a massive restoration to return it to its L&YR glory, including the installation of heritage-style signage and the preservation of the ironwork.

Looking down the platform. The sheer scale of the canopy reminds us of a time when railway travel was an occasion, not just a commute.

The intricate ironwork of the canopy. The "Way Out" signage and the gas-lamp style lights (now electric, of course) maintain the illusion of the Victorian era.

The main station building is constructed of rock-faced stone with ashlar dressings—a testament to the solid, confident engineering of the industrial north. It was built to serve the booming textile mills of the valley, and its grandeur reflects the wealth that once flowed through these hills.

The Booking Office exterior. The building originally housed first-class waiting rooms and "ladies' rooms," separating passengers by social standing—a practice long gone, thankfully.

Into the Depths

One of the most atmospheric parts of the station is the subway. Originally, passengers had to cross the tracks on foot, which was perilous. During the 1890s expansion, this subway was dug to connect the platforms safely.

The subway tunnel. The monochrome processing brings out the texture of the glazed bricks and the damp, moody lighting. It feels like a portal to another time.

The Sentinel of the Line: The Signal Box

Perhaps the crown jewel of the station's heritage is the signal box. While many mechanical signal boxes across the UK have been demolished in favour of modern digital signalling centres, the Hebden Bridge box has survived.

A view from the platform looking towards the signal box, nestled against the tree-lined valley side.

Built in 1891, this is a Type 4 L&YR box. It is now Grade II listed, recognized as a structure of national historic importance. It represents a lost era of manual labour, where signalmen pulled heavy levers to guide steam giants safely through the valley.

A closer look at the Signal Box. You can clearly see the timber upper structure sitting on the brick base. It’s rare to see one in such original condition.

A Timeless Stop

Leaving the station that day in 2013, I felt like I was stepping out of a time capsule. Whether you are a railway enthusiast, a history buff, or just someone who appreciates a good cup of coffee in a beautiful setting, Hebden Bridge station is a destination in itself.

These photos on my tablet may be digital, but the spirit they captured is undeniably analogue.

Clicking any of the images should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

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All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

From Cooper Bridge to Brighouse on the Calder & Hebble

 The Calder & Hebble Navigation isn't just a stretch of water; it's a living timeline, carving its way through the heart of West Yorkshire's industrial landscape. My recent walk, capturing the route from Cooper Bridge towards Brighouse, offered a profound look at how centuries of industry and modern engineering coexist with the quiet, reflective beauty of a working waterway.

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Cooper Bridge: Where Industry Meets the River

The walk begins near Cooper Bridge, a historically important junction on the old road network. Here, the immediate scenery is dominated by the ghosts of industry and the hard lines of modern infrastructure.

• The Mill and the Chimney: One of the most striking initial views is the reflection of the large Victorian mill building and its towering chimney in the water . This classic image encapsulates the Industrial Revolution's legacy in the Calder Valley—textiles, coal, and transport, all powered by the river and the canal. The water, calm and dark, acts as a perfect mirror, doubling the building's impressive scale.

• The Sunlit Cut: Moving away from the heavier industrial backdrop, the canal narrows and the banks become greener, though remnants of manufacturing are still visible. The sunlight catches the water, giving a brief glimpse of the navigation’s serene side.

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The Overheads: Bridging Eras of Transport

As you progress through Kirklees, the landscape dramatically changes, showcasing the monumental clash between 18th-century canal engineering and 20th-century road building.

Kirklees Railway Bridge: A Relic of Rail

The Kirklees Railway Bridge is a magnificent, brooding structure. Its heavy wrought-iron lattice girders, now deeply rusted and framed by winter-bare branches, speak of the great age of Victorian railway expansion. The massive, weathered stone piers of the older arches below suggest the scale of the challenge faced when spanning both the river and the navigation. This bridge is a powerful reminder that once, rail was the dominant competitor to the canal for transporting goods across the Pennines.

The M62 Viaduct: The Modern Giant

Further on, the landscape is utterly dwarfed by the immense presence of Bridge 20, carrying the M62 Motorway across the valley.

• Engineering Scale: The sheer size of the concrete columns, standing like a legion of modern giants, is breath taking. Underneath the viaduct, the view is starkly different—an echoing, shadowed space that highlights the difference between human-scale canal transport and high-speed vehicular transit. The contrast is palpable: the tranquillity of the water below the thrum of thousands of cars above.

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The Workings of the Waterway: Lock 14

One of the most essential features of any navigation is its locks, and your photo of Lock 14, Kirklees Low Lock, captures the functional beauty of canal architecture. Framed by the surrounding trees and green fields, the lock is a hub of activity (or potential activity). The white-painted gates and machinery stand out against the greenery, ready to lift or lower boats. It's here that you truly appreciate the system engineered by figures like John Smeaton to make the River Calder navigable for long-distance trade.

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Approaching Brighouse

The final leg of the journey takes us into the immediate vicinity of Brighouse, where the canal again meets the modern industrial fringe.

• Blakeborough Bridge: Bridge 19, the Blakeborough Bridge, is a distinctive concrete arch structure, likely replacing an older crossing. Its smooth, utilitarian lines stand in sharp contrast to the rusty rail bridge encountered earlier.

• A Modern Mix: The final views are a blend of the wide, straight canal cut, lined by contemporary industrial units and tall power line pylons. The calm water reflecting the vast sky and the flanking hedgerows is sandwiched between the necessities of twenty-first-century life—warehouses and electricity transmission.

This stretch of the Calder & Hebble is a superb example of a working canal that has adapted and endured. It has moved from being the lifeblood of the Industrial Revolution to a recreational and ecological corridor, all while serving as a silent museum of transport history.

The pictures were taken with a Nikon d3300 on the 23rd January 2016, clicking any of them should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.

A Forgotten Waterway: Walking the Halifax Branch Canal

The Calder and Hebble Navigation is one of Yorkshire's great industrial arteries, but one short spur holds a particularly fascinating, and largely buried, history: the Halifax Branch Canal. Recently, I took a walk along the small, navigable section that remains today, from Salterhebble Top Lock to the Salterhebble Basin, and was inspired to look deeper into this forgotten waterway.

The Last Surviving Stretch

The walk starts where the main navigation meets the spur. The modern-day journey is short, a serene quarter-mile of placid water contrasting sharply with the busy road nearby. This short section is a peaceful haven, offering moorings and a tranquil reflection of the industrial past.

The basin at Salterhebble, now a calm, boat-filled pool, was once the hive of activity for the main canal's final push towards Halifax before the branch opened. Today, it’s a spot to pause and appreciate the peaceful coexistence of nature and history.

The Buried Climb to Bailey Hall

What many people don't realise is that this short length is just the beginning of what was once a mighty, ambitious climb right into the heart of Halifax. When the branch opened in 1828, it extended for about a mile and a quarter, rising an astonishing 110 feet via 14 locks to terminate at Bailey Hall Basin, near the modern-day railway station and the former Mackintosh (now Nestlé) factory site. This monumental civil engineering feat was necessary to bring heavy goods like coal and stone directly into the thriving industrial town. The canal was crucial, as one horse could haul up to 60 tons by boat, a huge advantage over carting goods over the steep, difficult roads of the area.

An Expensive, Challenging Engineering Feat

The Halifax Branch was notoriously expensive to run. The terrain was challenging, and local mill owners were fiercely protective of the water supply in the Hebble Brook. This meant the canal company couldn't rely on the usual gravity-fed reservoirs.

The solution was a feat of ingenuity: a brick-lined culvert was built to carry water from the bottom of the arm all the way to a reservoir near the top at Phoebe Lane, where a massive steam-powered pumping engine then lifted the water to the highest level. The cost of running this engine and maintaining the long, leaky canal meant tolls were double those on the main Calder and Hebble.

The Ghosts of the Locks

The branch’s life was relatively short; it officially closed in 1942 and much of it was quickly drained and infilled. The route is now largely preserved as the Hebble Trail, a fantastic walking route that traces the canal's former path.

Walking this trail is like following a ghost. You walk over what were once the lock chambers—those well-built stone walls and depressions you see are the tops of the buried locks! It's an incredible sensation to know you're traversing a route where barges once struggled up and down a staircase of water.

Interestingly, the old structures, including bridges and the lock chambers themselves, were so robustly built that demolition would have been too costly. They were simply buried—a fascinating thought for a history enthusiast! Even the aqueduct that carried the canal over the Hebble Brook at Farrah Mill Lane still stands, though it faces problems today.

A Legacy of Industry and Leisure

Though its commercial life ended over 80 years ago, the spirit of the Halifax Branch lives on. The remaining section at Salterhebble serves as a reminder of the colossal ambition that shaped the West Riding's industrial landscape. The Hebble Trail ensures the route isn't completely forgotten, allowing walkers and cyclists to literally walk in the footsteps of the horse-drawn barges of old.

So next time you're in the area, don't just see the tranquil waters at Salterhebble. Take a moment to think about the 14 locks and the 110 feet of elevation that lie buried beneath your feet, connecting the busy present with a forgotten past.

I took these pictures with a Polaroid is2132 camera on the 13th June 2015, clicking any of them should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.