Captain's Log

Digley Reservoir

The van had been reversed into a stone wall and then set alight. The idiots who did this had obviously also wanted to ignite the wooded area behind the stone wall. The bark of the nearest tree was badly damaged by the ensuing fire. I did wonder whether I should park my car at the other carpark at Digley Reservoir, but this one is quite popular and I guessed the morons who did this would be active at night, rather than during the day. A sign on the carpark’s entrance gate told people not to light fires or use portable barbecues. It seems they now needed an addition to the list: don’t crash and set fire to vehicles.

It wasn’t the most promising start to a walk, but the weather prospects were decent and so the vandalism and arson didn’t darken my mood too much. Today’s walk would take me from Digley Reservoir, near Holmfirth, up to the summit of Black Hill. On the way I’d visit three aircraft crash sites, which would mean three much needed  ticks on my Dark Peak Aircraft Crash Site Venture. From Black Hill, I’d follow the Pennine Way northwards and then head eastwards down the valley, back to Digley Reservoir. A relatively short walk, but it seemed to pack a lot into the short distance.

Hampden L4055

I followed the hillside contour along the south side of Digley Reservoir until another footpath diverted directly southwards. I climbed upwards until I reached a country lane known as Issues Road. I don't know what the issue was with it, since it seemed fine to me. The sun was out and it was quite warm, although a stiff breeze kept me cool. It was perfect walking conditions. Black Hill appeared as a huge rampart to my left and I turned on to the aptly named Cliff Road that made a beeline towards it.

Hampden L4055 was the first aircraft crash site on the walk. The plane was a bomber heading back to Scampton after a raid on the railway system at Munchen-Gladbach on the 23rd of May 1940. RAF Scampton was (now closed) in Lincolnshire and so the plane was  way off course. On the return trip over the North Sea from the raid, they flew into a weather front and had trouble determining their location. They had the option of descending through the cloud to try and navigate, or bale out. Unfortunately, they chose the former and the aircraft slammed into the hillside near Holme. An ARP Warden heard the crash and dashed up to the wreckage to see if she could do anything. The ensuing fire ignited the ammunition, and she had to crouch behind a stone wall to avoid being hit. The four crewmen had been killed on impact. A week later some children playing near the wreckage found an unexploded bomb (I guess the question I would ask is why you would let your children play near a crashed plane). It is sad to note that the bombing raid itself would have had little impact since bomb loads were not great in the early part of the war. A fellow called Guy Gibson was also part of this raid (in plane L4070) and the crew of his aircraft did manage to destroy a railway bridge over the Schelde Mass Canal.  Apparently, he went on to bomb and destroy bigger things later in the war.

I didn't find any wreckage. At one time there was a large crater where they detonated one of the unexploded bombs, but it was now hard to determine the natural from the unnatural in the landscape.

Sabre F86E 19234

I continued upwards and entered open access land. There was a track heading off to Holme Moss mast and another one following the edge westwards. I continued south-eastwards over trackless moor. Somebody had stuck a pole into the moor near to the crash site of the Sabre F86E 19234 which made locating the wreckage a little easier.

The Sabre crashed on a test flight from Ringway on the 14th of December 1954.  The pilot was Canadian Flying Officer Patrick Robinson (aged 28), who had recently been married. Sabres were given a complete overhaul at Ringway before being transferred to Greece and Turkey. Before the transfer, they were given a test flight and it was during this procedure that the Sabre crashed. The rescue team found the pilot’s body 80 yards from the cockpit. He had been catapulted out of the plane on impact.

There was quite a lot of wreckage that had been collected into a pile, together with a few small crosses. It had crashed on a fairly flat area. If he’d flown a few metres higher he would have cleared this side of the hill. When your time comes, there's nothing you can do about it.

Swordfish P4223

I continued on my south-eastwards tramp across the moor. This brought me to Heyden Head, a clough that eventually runs into the Woodhead valley. This was the site of my last aircraft crash visit for the day, Swordfish P4223.

Swordfish P4223 came down on a ferrying flight on January 25th 1940. The crashed aircraft had been spotted by a couple of skiers a few days after it came down, but they didn't report it. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later that a council road worker spotted it from the Woodhead road and decided to take a tramp across to investigate. He must have had remarkably good eyesight since the crash site must have been a couple of miles from the road. The pilot was still strapped into the plane and looked as though he had died on impact. Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve Officer Sub-Lieutenant Gerald Williamson had been reported missing a month earlier on a routine flight heading south. Another disaster was narrowly averted when 8 RAF men, who had been given the task of burying the wreckage, got lost after their day's work. They had wandered off westwards in the wrong direction from their pickup point. An alarm was raised and search parties organised. It wasn't until noon the next day that they were found. They were only a couple of miles from the aircraft site and so must have spent their time walking around in circles. Given reasonable visibility, it is hard to go too far wrong nowadays, since the Holme Moss Transmitting Station is an obvious navigational reference point.

I couldn't find any wreckage at the site. I did find three posts though near to the location co-ordinates I was using; maybe they had something to do with it. After a bit more research, I figured that I might have been looking at the wrong location (co-ordinates SE 083 048 look a better bet).

Black Hill

From Heyden Head, I picked up a vague track heading westwards over flat and featureless moor. Soldier’s Lump, the top of Black Hill, came as a bit of a surprise, suddenly appearing when I was probably less than a 100 metres way. The trig point has been built on to a stone plinth, and so I thought I’d have been able to see it at a greater distance. The trig itself looks as though it's in a slow topple southwards. I was now on the Pennine Way and so I headed off on the slab motorway northwards. The path offered great views over to the distant Emley Moor mast as I descended down from Black Hill. The slabs made it really easy on this stage and it wasn’t long before I was crossing the stream at Dean Clough. Before you reach the clough, there is a very old sign warning you that the stream is hard to cross in spate, and to use the footbridge further downstream. I've walked this path countless times and never known more than a trickle of water to run down this stream though. The slabs continued on the other side of the clough towards the A635.

Coffee Stop

I’d seen the roadside snack bar at Wessenden Head as I approached along the Pennine Way from the south. I remember a snack bar being at this location for decades. It catches all the trans Pennine traffic using the A635 between Holmfirth and Saddleworth. It is also in a prime location for walkers since it is on the Pennine Way trail. Believe it or not, this snack bar is the first opportunity for Pennine Wayers to purchase a drink or food since leaving Edale, a day and a half ago. Two large blue and white Yorkshire Rose flags flew on poles above the small trailer. I didn’t mind, but I guess it was guaranteed to annoy 50% of the potential customers on this trans Pennine route. As I approached, one bloke just seemed to be lurking near the serving hatch and a motorcyclist was just receiving a bacon butty. ‘What do you want, love?’ asked the woman in the trailer. ‘Just a coffee please’ I replied. ‘Do you want it in a mug?’ she asked. I was curious as to what the alternatives might be; maybe she could ladle it directly into my mouth, or maybe she could fix up a hose pipe from the urn. Another motorcyclist coughed behind me, which snapped me out of these creative thoughts. ‘Oh, in a mug please,’ I replied. My coffee was delivered in a pea green mug that made my coffee look rather grey and insipid. I went to sit on a plank that  was  supported by two milk crates. Two backpackers had just vacated the improvised bench and were setting off northwards along the Pennine Way route. They’d certainly got good weather for it. I was a little jealous given some of the dreadful weather I’d had on my recent thru hikes. As they departed, three elderly walkers arrived, who were dead ringers for Foggy, Compo and Clegg. The started queuing behind the Lurker, who then backed away from the hatch. Foggy ordered three teas accompanied by banter that suggested they were regulars at the snack bar. My bench didn’t look like it would support me and the Last Of The Summer Wine cast and so I supped up. I don’t think the London Coffee Houses will be too concerned about the competition at Wesseden Head. I put my pea green pot mug back on the counter. ‘Thanks. That was lovely’ I lied. 

Goodbent Lodge

It was really quite a pleasant path back to Digley Reservoir from the snack bar. It provided great views down the valley and also back across to Black Hill. It was a good path and most of it was downhill. Goodbent Lodge was a very large house that the footpath passed. There were signs on the outside saying not to go in because it was an unsafe structure.  Even so, I could see kitchen utensils in one of the windows and so I presume somebody must use it. On the 1850s OS map, it is referred to as Better Than Expectation, which seems a curious name. It was originally used as a farm and got renamed to Goodbent Lodge when its use turned to a shooting lodge. I had seen a car in the yard when I’ve walked past it before, but there was nothing there today. 

I dropped down to Digley near the disused quarry. There were plenty of Rowan trees in the area putting on a colourful display with their bright red berries. 

Return

I’d never seen Digley Reservoir so low. The ornate ‘plughole’ overflow near to the dam was normally surrounded by water, but today it was stranded by a sea of stones. Odd that the water was so low when we’d had such a wet summer. There were plenty of people about now, most would be taking the circular walk around the reservoir. Some Canada Geese flew over the reservoir and made a mass landing in a nearby field. The burnt out van was still in the carpark when I got back. I thought that by some miracle somebody might have cleared the mess up, but it wasn't to be. 

It had been a short, but fine walk with some great elevated views. I’d even made some progress on my Dark Peak Aircraft Crash Site Venture.