Saddleworth Rangers v Dewsbury Celtic
Off Sowerby Bridge in the sunshine.
Into Huddersfield, with my onward Pacer lurking at the far
end of the train shed.
A bounce down the big hill to Mossley.
From the station, it was an climb up to the north part of
down. The oxygen became thinner but the
views became spectacular.
This was my destination, the wonderful Fleece Inn, although the town
was in turmoil as the main road was being resurfaced.
On first impressions, it appeared this was a Titanic tie, a
little piece of Stafford in Brook Bottom.
However, the landlord explained he had takeover weekend from breweries,
and last weekend was Titanic which was just eking out. For politeness, I cleared all five.
Next stop was the cheese shop in town.
A relatively sparse selection for the day of Yorkshire Blue, Singleton's Beacon Fell, a potters pie and a stuffed pork belly ball. The snacks of kings.
I wandered back down the hill, passed the football ground,
that for some reason I didn't get any photos of. I did however, get a birds eye view of my
next stop, the Britania Inn, which was cleared with a Robinson's - Bonjeuros.
Next was the Commercial, which was guide listed even though
it only had one stick. I take it that is
because it is a Greenfield stick.
This was the first weekend post the Brexit vote, and with it now being that the fuckwits and bigots are the electoral majority, the new order was already in place.
It was a more capable 156 for the journey back up the hill.
This took me to Greenfield. It is the first stop off on the Transpennine real ale trail, where groups of lager drinking Mancs, moan about how rank proper beer is, so start necking shots and pissing like pre-race greyhounds.
There are three guide pubs in the town. Firstly a wander to the King William for a Nook - Blonde and to watch the challenge cup quarter final.
Next, back to the Wellington for a Twisted Oak - Sheriff Fatman. The town is surrounded by brooding hillsides,
and is most well known for being where the Moors Murderers buried their
victims.
Although this entertainment sounded tempting...
...instead I was heading here.
A narrow set of steps took me down...
...to what turned out to be the station car park, a good
couple of hundred yards from the station itself, but the nearest flat land,
which also hosted the rugby ground.
Saddleworth Rangers 44 v Dewsbury Celtic 6, - National
Conference League, Division Two.
Saddleworth Rangers were founded in the 1930s, Originally
with the Oldham League, they moved into the Pennine League before the
re-organisation with the BARLA conference set up.
Dewsbury were founded in 1879 by exiles from the great
famine, originally as the Shamrocks.
They had a flirtation with football, before returning to play rugby
league. This coincided with the change
to the current name, and the joining of the Northern Union. They were one of the leading amateur sides,
but now they lag behind many of the other sides in the Dewsbury area. They one of the early converts to summer
rugby.
The ground is in a lovely wooded glade at the foot of the
valley.
The main feature is this stand.
Saddleworth took the lead.
Duly converting.
There was a fair sized crowd, seeing as this was a division
2 amateur game.
Some had arrived by more eco-friendly means.
The owners being perhaps not the most effective distribution
of ball boys around the pitch.
The main stand, with a splinter game in progress.
Saddleworth continued the scoring.
The game finishing 44-6.
The final guide pub is the railway, which was hellish as it
is right outside the station so was full of Mancs starting off on the ale
train. They have a decent selection of
ales, I had a house Out of Steam, but it was awful.
The platform was rammed full of half cut ale-trailers, so I
swerved to the bus stop instead.
A much more sedate bird to freedom.
This meant I could jump out at Dobcross.
Home of the Guide Navigation Inn, where I had an hour, so
took in a Theakstons - Black Bull and a Dark Smooth.
I was on the next bus.
This goes right up over the moors.
Although it was one of the sunnier days, they were still
less than inviting.
I was off in Marsden.
The main centre is just off the main road, and is home to
the Riverhead brewery tap.
Needless to say, all their offerings were cleared.
From here, there was no option but a train move. Hellish both for traction and clientele.
Everyone piled off at Huddersfield, so I carried on to the
more sociable Mirfield.
A quick stop off at the adjacent and ever excellent
Navigation tavern for Mallinsons - Herkules Mosaic.
Back to the station for a Victoria via Brighouse service.
Back into Sowerby, with a short wait at the station
refreshment rooms with a Saltaire - Pride, and the returning Scarborough Spa Express.
