The Stanza Trail was developed in collaboration by poet Simon Armitage and the Ilkley Literature Festival. In June 2012 Armitage wrote a collection of 6 poems inspired by the language and landscape of the Pennine Watershed, which were then carved onto stones across the upland by stone artist Pip Hall, forming a permanent ‘Poetry Trail’ from Armitage’s home town of Marsden to the Festival’s base in Ilkley. Whether you’re a keen walker ready to tackle full day walks incorporating two or more stones in one go or just fancy a short family outing there’s something for everyone. You can even walk the whole 54 miles at once if you like! Downloading a guide I noted an absence of postcodes for locations and rather indecipherable map references that spelled trouble. We chose the drive and walk approach which had served us so well when following the footsteps of the pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago in northern Spain.
Our first stop was the Snow Stone near Marsden and was indeed problematic. using the supposed postcode of the pub nearby we "found" the lay by to park and galloped up the hill to find a disused quarry where we would surely find the stanza in question. As we stumbled around in the knee high grasses we bemoaned the lack of signposts other than National Trust walk trails and failed to find the stanza. A walking couple were approached who knew nothing of our destination and walked on. We did like talking to the sheep at least - bemused by or antics. In the end it was decided that we would write our own stanza in the form of a limerick which you must imagine carved into the quarry wall below:
Lost in Space
There was an old couple from Leeds
Who got lost in the grasses and weeds.
Singing "Where`s this damned stanza?"
Like Mario Lanza
As the sweat formed on foreheads in beads.
It was incredibly hot for an Octobers day on the moors!
In disappointment it was agreed to walk back to the car and carry on to the 2nd stone, having lost nigh on 1.5 hours walking on the moors in hope. Jumping in the car we drove on only to see within 2 miles the more obvious signs of all the indicators flagged in the walk guide on the hill to our left. Ignoring Sue`s pleas to carry on to a loo stop I decided it must be done and a U-turn was made to enable us to walk once more onto the moors in search of the elusive stanza to snow.
As we walked up the long hill to the quarry we bumped again into the walking couple who, at first bemused by how such a clearly out of condition pair had managed to somehow, catch and pass them on their circular walk, decided they too would see the stanza. In one of those amazing sets of coincidences they had recently been to Bristol, as had we, and had stayed at the Shibden Mill Inn the previous night , which was our final destination of the day for a booked afternoon tea. As we passed the Stanza Stone posts we realised we were indeed on the right track.
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| The road indicators to the Snow Stone Stanza |
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| The artificial slope up to the quarry |
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| The heart shaped cloud told us we were in the right place |
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| The Snow Stanza is already wearing but words below |
Snow by Simon Armitage
The sky has delivered its blank missive. The moor in coma. Snow, like water asleep, a coded muteness to baffle all noise, to stall movement, still time.What can it mean that colourless water can dream such depth of white? We should make the most of the light. Stars snag on its crystal points. The odd, unnatural pheasant struts and slides. Snow, snow, snow is how the snow speaks, is how its clean page reads.
Then it wakes, and thaws, and weeps.
I think you`ll agree - not quite as snappy as our effort!
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| Fancy walking the whole lot? |
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| Thinking of a stanza on the poet`s seat |
Paul said he knew the way,
Never did I doubt it.
Next time I`ll not believe a word
No matter how he shouts it!
I know - only 4 lines but what the hell!
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| Two tunnels take air to the rail and canal tunnels below |
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| ...and on to the next |
The next we sought (Rain) was at Cow’s Mouth Quarry near Blackstone Edge. The quarry is situated about 20 minutes walk along the track which starts at the White House pub. The Pub is on the A58 road between Halifax and Littleborough just beyond Blackstone Edge Reservoir. This was much easier to find and also enable a drinks and wee stop first - still in glorious sunshine on the Lancashire / Yorkshire border. The White House pub is one of those typical old wayside pubs, unaltered in 40 years and a testament to the soft furnishings and decor of the 1970/80`s - but welcome! This walk was flatter and much easier. An information board told us this was part of the Pennine Way and that Blackstone Edge was also the meeting point for more than 20,000 Chartists back in the days of struggles for worker`s rights. Good on them! As we passed another walker and I was taking photographs of the fabulous views he chided " Best shoot t`other way lad, that`s better. It`s Yorkshire."
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| Met a troll - must have got in my backpack in Norway |
Rain
Be glad of these freshwater tears,
Each pearled droplet some salty old sea-bullet
Air-lifted out of the waves, then laundered and sieved, recast as a soft bead and returned.
And no matter how much it strafes or sheets, it is no mean feat to catch one raindrop clean in the mouth,
To take one drop on the tongue, tasting cloud pollen, grain of the heavens, raw sky.
Let it teem, up here where the front of the mind distils the brunt of the world.
Afternoon tea at the Shibden Mill Inn was fabulous - probably one of the best ever with champagne and the best cakes ever! Great gift - thanks Jonathan and Zoe. Hope you still know Sue when she is 70!
Treat Time
Wonderful sarnies and cakes to eat.
Washing it down with champagne and tea
Best way to end the day for me!
Gorgeous!
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