In Giant Rombald's Footsteps

According to the legend, a giant by the name of Rombald used to live in these parts. While striding across the moor that now bears his name (in some versions of the story he was being chased by his angry wife) he dislodged a stone from a gritstone outcrop, and thus created the Calf, of the Cow and Calf rocks. Giants such as Rombald and Wade - and even the Devil himself - were apparently busy all over Yorkshire, dropping stones or creating big holes in the ground. It was perhaps an appealing way of accounting for some of the more unusual features of the landscape.

Rombalds Moor is pitted with old quarries, from which good quality stone was won. The Cow and Calf rocks used to be a complete family unit, but the rock known as the Bull was broken up to provide building stone.

At Burley Woodhead a public house called the Hermit commemorates Job Senior, a local character with a chequered career. Job worked as a farm labourer, before succumbing to the demon drink. He met an elderly widow of independent means, who lived in a cottage at Coldstream Beck, on the edge of Rombalds Moor. Thinking he might get his hands on her money and home, Job married the old crone. Though she died soon after, Job took no profit. The family of her first husband pulled the cottage down, in Job's absence, leaving him homeless and penniless once more.

Enraged, he built himself a tiny hovel from the ruins of the house. Here he lived in filth and squalor on a diet of home-grown potatoes, which he roasted on a peat fire. He cut a strange figure, with a coat of multi-coloured patches and trousers held up with twine. He had long, lank hair, a matted beard and his legs were bandaged with straw. He made slow, rheumatic progress around Rombalds Moor with the aid of two crooked sticks.

His eccentric lifestyle soon had people flocking to see him. He offered weather predictions, and even advised visitors about their love lives. The possessor of a remarkable voice, he 'sang for his supper' as he lay on his bed of dried bracken and heather. These impromptu performances encourarged Job to sing in nearby villages, and even in the theatres of Leeds and Bradford. His speciality was sacred songs, which he would deliver with great feeling. Nevertheless, his unwashed appearance meant that accommodation was never forthcoming, forcing him to bed down in barns or outhouses.

It was while staying in a barn that he was struck down with cholera. He was taken to Carlton Workhouse, where he died in 1857, aged 77. A huge crowd of people gathered at his funeral. Job Senior, the hermit of Rombalds Moor, was buried in the churchyard of Burley in Wharfedale. He's commorated in the old sign hanging over the entrance at the Hermit Inn.

Where to eat and drink

The Hermit is a welcoming stone-built pub in Burley Woodhead, whose name recalls an eccentric local character. During the walk it is easy to make a short detour to the inn, with its oak-panelled and beamed rooms and views of Wharfedale. Alternatively, the village of Burley in Wharfedale also boasts a number of places to get a bite to eat.

While you're there

Visit Harry Ramsden's in nearby Guiseley: not just a fish-and-chip restaurant, but also a Yorkshire institution. There are Harry Ramsden's restaurants elsewhere now, but this is the real thing, the original. It was founded here, in a little hut, in 1928 by the eponymous Harry Ramsden. A Bradford-based fish frier of some repute, Harry had been forced to sell up and move to the country by his wife's tuberculosis. The location, at the terminus of tram routes from both Bradford and Leeds, proved to be a profitable one and the chain now stretches from the Epcott Centre in Florida to motorway services on the M40.

What to look for rombalds moor is home to the red grouse, often claimed to be the only truly indigenous british bird. grouse take off from their heather hiding places with heart-stopping suddenness, with their evocative cry of 'go back, go back, go back'. their moorland habitat is carefully managed to maintain a supply of young heather for the grouse to nest and feed in. this concern with their welfare has a commercial imperative. grouse shooting is lucrative and the season begins on the 'glorious twelfth' of august.