Location called West Bank.I can't help replying to ask what the West Bank is... As in a place that looks after my money, or the bank of a hill or a location called West Bank... Somewhere at the far end of the Mediterranean...?
Not far from you, Scapegoat Hill looking South towards Holme Moss and Marsden. The res you can see is Blackmoorfoot, with Deer Hill and Wessenden Head at the far right of the bottom snowy pic.
Wheatley/Mixenden? That was my foot beat when I was a probationer. The bottom of West Bank was my boundary.
Don't forget the rusy gateMines a hedgebut that is some view (though the cyclist in me is saying that must mean you have to cycle uphill to get home
).
Not been round these parts in a while?
What do they call the cobbled/setted street at the top of Siddal that climbs up past the old works to the tops? Coalpit lane/Siddal Top Lane? I remember climbing that on a night MTB ride once, that's quite a tow on a mountain bike!to get to the top of the hill involves an even steeper climb that I have never attempted, I honestly don't think I would make it to the top.
Brookfoot Lane; https://www.strava.com/segments/864470
and the other approach would be Southowram Bank which is just as steep.
I walked Mixenden and Wheatley in 1989 and 1990 as foot beats. We had a small office in the housing office behind the shops in the middle of the village. Kali's off licence was star attraction..... I then moved back to Halifax Town Centre and worked there until 1996 when I was promoted and posted to Huddersfield.
That will be Whitegate, hell of a climb and only suited to mtb's .
Perhaps just as well. There was a pub next to the shops in the middle of the village. The landlord/manager simply upped and walked out so the brewery put in a caretaker manager from somewhere in Leeds. On his first night the locals came in and offered him their custom, and all was going well until he called time. The locals told him kindly that he was welcome to go to bed, and they would leave when they were ready, all he needed to do was leave the pumps switched on and they would help themselves. It appears he lacked the resolve to argue, and did just that. He rang us a couple of hours later once he had got his head round the issue. Mixenden in those days had several families with the reputation of being "fighting Irish". It was all a bit "frontier town" and they took a certain level of skilled communication to deal with. I eventually got them to see that the invitation from the landlord was very kind, but if they drank all his beer that night, what would be left for tomorrow?
