Almscliff crag in the evening sunshine, during the first lockdown. A nice foray on my bike.
Last week's long run was abandoned just outside Shadwell. Running into the wind and the rain through slippy mud wasn't pleasant and I was starting to get cold and slower. I decided to abandon ship while I wasn't miles away from home and with the wind at my back I made my way through the rain back to base for beans on toast and tea. So with Saturday this week colder, breezier but importantly, drier than last Saturday, I wanted to get a decent distance in. I had two plans both starting off on the Meanwood Valley Trail (the idea to avoid running into the wind like last week over open fields) and through Harewood House: either doing a loop of the grounds and back along the MVT or out to Almscliff and back through Pool, depending on how I was feeling.
I set off from home with a decently full running vest with snacks, "FRA kit" plus a comfy synthetic belay jacket. My trusty Brynje super-thermo shirt (lol) under a tshirt and thin hoody combined with tracksters proved an effective layering system for the weather, and apart from rolling my sleeves up and down every so often, I didn't need to de-layer. I probably would have just gone for a bumbag if it hadn't been for the weather forecast: -2 °C and feeling a bit colder than that in the chilly south-easterly wind. Shoes of choice were my roclites, though I know I could've coped fine with road shoes because the hard frosts and remnants of snow have effectively dried out all the paths. However, if I'd have come a cropper then I would've looked a bit of a herbert in road shoes in a rutted cowfield.
The valley trail passed along pleasantly enough and was fairly busy though I was able to distance pretty effectively - the congested bits were wide enough to pass folk comfortably. Out the comfort of the trees heading up towards King Lane from Stairfoot Lane I felt the breeze for the first time, but I was pleased at how firm the path through the field was. I considered changing tack and doing a trig bagging run, but realised I'd passed two already so that idea didn't last long. The quagmire of a field before Eccup Moor Road was a delight as the mud was firm. Happy days. This was approximately the hour mark so I munched a flapjack before jogging over towards Emmerdale. I first found this quirk of the North Leeds countryside just after my first year of uni (I was just a mere parkrunner in those days) and despite not being a fan of the soap (or any other soaps for that matter - allegiance wise I should choose Corrie being from Granadaland), it's amusing for the film set to be here. For those of you not in the know, this bit of countryside is home to the purpose-built film set for the Yorkshire Television soap opera Emmerdale, which is modelled on the old location, Esholt. The pub in Esholt is still called "The Woolpack", which by the sounds of things is a good money-spinner. When I visited for a bizarre evening after an orienteering event nearby, the pub contained a fair number of memorabilia from the programme.
From the film set you emerge into the Harewood estate proper. It seems a popular lockdown walk is a lap of the estate on the permissive and public paths. I headed north on a mix of tracks and tarmacced estate roads and got my first view over to Almscliff for the day. Once past a mini 'industrial' estate (complete with red postbox) progress was halted by a deer migration. I paused here for a couple of minutes waiting for a gap in the traffic - I wouldn't want to end up on the wrong side of some of those antlers! Having chosen my moment, I descended down towards Harewood Bridge, and through the shed showroom.
I triumphantly left West Yorkshire for the first time in a while - the river is the border between the two counties of West and North Yorkshire - and picked up the footpath on the north side heading towards Weeton. Any thoughts of doing my shorter run were firmly out of my head - I was going to Almscliff. A bird of prey of some description took off as I ran towards Rougemont Carr - the precursor to Harewood House and I reached the first road plod of the day not too long later. I'd been on the go for about two hours now so I had a crunchie after interrupting a family walk singsong (Orange and Lemons if I remember correctly). Once at the main road, I walked up the footpath up to Crag Lane, now starting to feel the effects of the wind. Some ungrateful drivers passed me on the road and I hopped the stile for the final approach to the crag.
The "official" (i.e. most preferred) parking spot for the crag is on Merrybank/Low Lane, to the west of the crag, and the various laybys at the southern end of the crag by the farm are posted with a myriad of signs of various ages by the BMC and others stating no parking. Nevertheless, this approach from the south is my favourite way to approach the crag. I forced myself into a jog for the last bit of the climb, and said hello to an unresponsive and cold looking boulderer before going up the easy way to the top of High Man. A friendly dog walker warned me of the breeze at the top and I touched the top and returned the way I came for a bit of shelter and a scotch egg in a nook out the wind.
Scotch egg break over, I avoided photobombing a family photograph (silhouette look) and heading down to the parking spot on Merrybank Lane. The local BMC group arranged with the farmer to put in stepping stones near the muddiest part of this field to discourage folk (climbers and non-climbers) from walking over the dry stone wall. If folk were that bothered about getting their feet wet and muddy, why couldn't they walk round to the path from Crag Lane? Anyway, let's hope it works, as it would be a shame if a few selfish folk ruined the current arrangement (access to the crag thanks to kind permission of the farmer - with some restrictions [no night climbing, drones, walking on walls etc]) for the rest of us.
Running down Merrybank Lane into the wind made me realise that the way back might be a bit cold. I plodded on along a bridleway which I was semi-familiar with and circumnavigated some fields with frozen rutted mud. Frozen mud is better than unfrozen mud, I decided. I descended through Riffa Wood and my ford of choice over the beck at the bottom was where I got wet feet for the first time of the day. Potential stepping stones were icy and so I decided damp feet were a small price to pay for not slipping on the ice and getting an unexpected dip. The descent to Pool Bridge wasn't especially pleasant in the wind and I psyched myself for the climb up Staircase Lane to Bramhope - this passed at a walk with a Caramel Log for company.
Once in Bramhope the original plan was to cross the fields to Cookridge and Horsforth before jogging home via Clayton Woods, Butcher Hill and Leeds Beckett. I decided that running across the fields into the increasingly gusty winds wouldn't be nice, so I compromised. I opted instead for the footpath next to West Park rugby club and into Breary Marsh. I was overtaken by a runner for the first time today here, so I used him as something to chase after. I didn't catch him up but I'm not complaining. Paul's pond in the marsh was frozen and the ducks didn't look too happy. A footpath through the golf course led me to Holt Park and I made my way triumphantly home via Bedquilts Rec (a first visit for me), The Hollies (an old friend) and Beckett. My first marathon effort was a success, albeit a slow one. But I got around - that's the main thing.