Day 9 loomed overcast, breezy and cool with a few light showers / drizzle along the way. Starting with a long medium grade climb up to Great Shunner Fell, the path switching from green grass, pavement, stoney tracks, sandy tracks and wet or dry spongy peat..it had it all. After Shunner Fell the path then arced across to enter the familiar Swaledale valley. I have been there twice already with my 2 Coast to Coast walks (Keld being the crossing point between the two paths) my approach into Keld though was on the opposite side of the valley so I saw a different perspective of the valley, the Northside where the C2C follows is the prettier side, the Southside which I was on today is steeper and more rugged and quite unpleasant to walk, lots of mud, broken walls and brushing through thick bracken.
Before tackling this last couple of miles (still blissfully unaware of how unpleasant it would be) I stopped at the Thwaite cafe and stopped for a baguette and pot of tea..yet again I was to be disappointed with a tasteless baguette, all they know what to do is put bloody mayo in the filling, you can buy ready made rolls and sandwiches from supermarkets which are far superior to the stuff most cafes and pubs dish up. While sitting at Thwaite I was joined by Denise and Bill and their two friends (Steve and Jackie) who came to Keld to join them in their wedding anniversary celebration. We walked to Keld together for a while but I lagged behind as I took pictures of Swaledale. I arrived at the Keld Lodge (love that place!) about 10 mins after them the upside of the later arrival however was being greeted a dewy pint of Black Sheep Ale before even stepping through the doorway..that's service for ya! We stayed outside and were promptly feasted upon by clouds of the ravenous midge population... who must have got fairly pissed themselves from the extraction of alcohol in our bloodstreams, we waved the white flag after a while and went inside to continue imbibing whilst the gals went upstairs to clean up, they came down eventually and the combination of their impressive effort to doll themselves up coupled with my ale and or cider (I really can't remember) induced munificence caused me to be loud in my praises extolling their great beauty which were met with responses indicating some doubt to the sincerity of my praises! That night I was invited to and joined in the anniversary celebrations..2 weeks later I can't remember much about that, I didn't record anything that night ..must have been good. Pictures below show my usual traveling companions (backpack, walking pole and Akubra hat) resting atop Great Shunner Fell, views of Swaledale, Crackpot Hall and real, some-time travelling companions Denise, Billy Steve and Jackie.
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I started off the day like all the previous, preparing my body and soul (R-soul) for the gruelling day ahead, e.g. dressing and padding the blisters on my feet and something else which ordinarily I would refrain from mentioning, but as much for amusement as well as providing some insight of "human factor's" role in the genesis of accidents I will share.
So you ask what is this thing? Well ok, as delicately as I can say... walking is a sweaty business and it can get irritating in the butt area (think of monkey butts) so after morning ablutions I apply some savlon cream to the area to head off any irritation..the stuff comes in a blue tube that looks pretty much like a toothpaste tube, both these tubes cohabitate in my dilly bag / toiletries bag.... yep you guessed it, it had to happen, it was a set up just waiting for a bleary eyed slip... the wrong cream was applied, not noticed immediately but within 30 secs an unpleasant warmness and tingling began to eminate from my rear end, preparations took a bit longer whilst I dealt with the aftermath of that mistake. I set off at last, still not entirely comfortable but into another pleasant walking day, lots of green fields and meadows, even walking along a canal for part of the way. Less up and down today and this was starting to look like the way you'd think a walk in the UK countryside should. The countryside even smelled a bit better at times with hints of peppermint in the air. So into a packed Malham and straight to the pub for a late baguette lunch and cider (scrumpy on tap, deliciously lethal) before finding my digs for the night. A cloudy and cool morning with all the peaks covered in cloud or mist. The first path out of the pub was an uphill, stoney, laneway that was very, very hard on the feet. Things got a bit better underfoot after that. Along the way I passed "Calf Hole", now I very nearly missed this as there was a wall between me and it, it was only because I noticed a stile there that I climbed it and had a peek over the wall. A stream flowed down its bed, dropped into a small waterfall then disappeared into a big hole in the ground. There was a man there donning red waterproof overalls preparing to descend into the pothole with a couple of mates who were already down there. They were going to make their way underground to emerge at another pothole further along.. absolutely crazy.. you would never get me to do that.
Eventually the path joined a forestry / logging truck road where a short time later a dark and ominous thunderstorm cloud opened up with a couple of bangs and got me the first of three soakings that day. Then off the logging path and on to a rough track that hugged the edge of the fell, a stone wall obscured the view down into the most lonely and tortured farm land valley I have ever seen. The wall was not all bad however, a strong 30 mph wind and driving rain was blowing across this valley and I was shielded from the weather with the wind and rain passing many feet over my head, but then the wall ended and an excellent fell side walk with lovely views was spoiled by the howling wind and rain... the wind was so strong it grabbed at my pack and clothes and frequently pushed me off my walking line, when the path was not rocky it was very squelchy and boggy, the ground was just waterlogged. As I approached Hawes the sun broke out, I began to dry off and got into my B&B for the night.. very good it was too! Run by an expatriate Aussie who had been in the UK for 14 years. His accent was all over the place so his origins had me tossed at first . A humungous pot of tea and great homemade biscuits eased the tensions of the day. Nice place to stay and look around, will go back there. Wow, what a day..... This wass a day of many parts and varying character, the weather was cool and partly cloudy to start then windy and cloudier later. The walk starts with a full english breakfast - filled - gut bursting climb up to the Malham Cove cliff, then some slow and easy traversing of wet and slippery Limestone rocks to follow a path which opened up to delightful, wide, soft, green and fairly level, grassy way amongst cow pastures. Then a walk around Malham Tarn with more grassy path which rapidly began to degenerate to rubble track with the formidable Pennygynnt mountain looming ahead. In this limestone country you pass many sinkholes, great basins in the ground formed by caves collapsing underneath them, some of these holes are like littIe lakes or pools, some have reedy type plants growing at the bottom, some just had small openings into the ground, one such sink hole I passed was full of rabbits, I must have seen 10 -15 running around down there. I knew I had to climb Pennygynnt before the end of today's walking but it never seemed to get closer as the path followed a long circuituous route, but gradually I approached, the path climbed and worsened, the sky lowered with me now walking in shrouds of cloud and mist. Well it was a bloody hard scramble to the top considering all the miles that had been walked before that exertion.. but then even the sting in the tail had a sting in the tail, down the other side to Horton on Ribblesdale was an excruciating 3 mile broken rock walk down. Shattered I was, I dragged my weary ass to the Pennygynnt cafe to get buy some more compeed for my feet and went to my pub... what a bloody dive, the room was small and smelt damp as if nothing in there had ever been properly dried. I had a terrible nights sleep itching from flea bites (whether these were real or imagined I am not sure.. I didnt actually have any bumps / bites but I did feel itchy) Anyway at 2 am I got my clothes back on and slept on top of the bed finally achieving some rest. this last pic, Pennygynnt from a distance, still a long way to go in a big wide circle to the left before starting a climb up it's left shoulder.
Today featured sunny blue skies with almost no wind, lighting up the lovely backdrop of the prettiest scenery, rural and "villagey" seen to date. Not all a bed of roses though, the walk featured lots of interminable climbs and descents in and out of these valley villages, through the country side on paths that ranged from hard, uneven and rocky to lush meadows to springy dried peat (bliss under foot) Feet were sore blisterwise but I must be managing them ok as they are probably feeling better today than yesterday.
Cool and overcast to start, so nice walking weather. The path soon started climbing and became a bit of a grind.. not being peat bog country to start it was that rough, stoney, foot smashing trail. Some nice scenery along the way that then passed a few reservoirs. What I had hoped would be idyllic, soft grass walks along the reservoir sides were alas not.. rough and stoney all the way. Before starting this walk I had changed my boots insoles hoping the new gel design would be better on my feet, unfortunately while the heel was fine, the insoles were too soft at the front and I felt every sharp stone drive itself into my foot. Finally I was walking along a fairly comfortable gravel road for a while and was looking forward to stay on it for as long as possible then as I walked I noted a thin steep boggy trail down to the river on my left, I looked down and thought, "glad I dont have to go down there".. a microsecond later I saw a PW sign shaped like a cross (from a certain angle) pointing down this stairway hellwards..."yah gotta be F....ing kidding me" I blurted out aloud. Well it was awful going down and worse going up the other side, the wide angle picture was taken from my GPS as I had put my camera in my pack and donned a waterproof coat for a little drizzle that was around. You can see the thin path coming down the other side, to the bridge then up towards where I took the shot from. Well another hour of foot-grinding rocky path, fording and walking along streams and mud I finally got onto a slab path which traversed another peat bog, yet another hour of this and I could see the A62 road ahead, it was at about the same level as my eye and looked soooo close and the way there looked flat... again another "alas" 'twas an optical illusion I'm afraid, I had to go up and down 2 step descents and climbs to cross intervening streams running along the valleys between me and the road, its so frustrating when what you think is going to be a 10 minute doddle turns out to be a 30 minute ordeal.
To add to my discomfort a heavy shower popped over the hill and dumped on me without warning.. no time to put waterproof over-trousers on.. my trousers were soaked in a minute (lucky I had the jacket already on) Anyway much later with trouser bottoms still wet and socks squelching I reached the main road at Standedge, which after crossing required me to make another horrible 20 min walk to the B&B. Here I was greeted with a huge pot of strong loose leaf tea, I must have guzzled a pint of sweet hot brew. Nice room, great hosts would definitely go there again. The morning started grey with a light drizzle falling, not heavy enough to warrant donning one's waterproofs. So after some foot first aid and blister protection I set off unwaterproofed, taking a less irksome diversion or alternative to the path to rejoin the the Pennine Way from Hebden. This diversion in large part followed a bridleway that ran alongside the river, it was green, dank and remarkably humid, the legion of flies were back to swarm around me, then it started raining so, off with the backpack, on with the jacket that kept me dry from the rain but wet internally from sweat..honestly you can't win. Rejoining the narrow PW path it now went through knee high sodden vegetation, stop again to put the gaiters on... really these are a bugger to put on, I always manage to get them on the wrong way the having to fix it, what a pointless exercise, my feet and trouser bottoms got wet anyway, another 10 mins wasted.
So then it was farm fields into the moors, passed some reservoirs, back into the moors and into Bronte country. Rant time.. I hate the Brontes... for years they have irritated red blooded males with legions of TV costume dramas in the Bronte genre.. all women seem to love them however so you are never going to win the war for the TV remote. Bronte country had me bristling with annoyance exacerbated by the pain coming from my feet, and my left shoulder.. and the list of woes goes on! Found and tasted some Bill Berries on the steep descent to Ponden, tomorrow I may be a true docker (see day 2) The last 400 meters to the B & B were a steep climb...it figures so weary and footsore I knocked at the door and said to the elderly lay that answered "please let this be Ponden House" it was. It was a nice stay, delightful host that made us a roast chicken dinner, one of the best meals we had on the way. Pics are of Bronte Country. Today was another long haul 16+ miles in mostly cool and overcast conditions. There was not so much mountain goat stuff today but still plenty of miles of up and down on foot torturing paths that passed through and over granite edges, moors, water reservoir areas and even a small portion on grassy fields. I get ahead of myself, I started off the morning dressing and protecting 2 doozy blisters that had developed one on each of my feet (different places) Thus self-nursed, I was able to walk in relative comfort for about 11 miles.. (the last 5 are always the worse, tiredness, hot feet it all starts to hurt again). As I walked these last miles I thought, I hope I can manage my footcare so I could continue the walk, there was a real potential for failure if I could not limit the pain and damage to my feet. The pics are looking along some of the torturous terrain one had to pick their way over, with views in the background and the monument (and turning point on the pw), Stoodley Pike. As I passed the stucture I touched the stone and moved on, I couldn't be fagged climbing its stairs to the 20 foot (ish) look out deck. Other way points along the way were Robin Hood's Bed (jeez that guy got around!) and Dick Slack...yes I kid you not, it is on the OS chart. After a very steep descent into Hebden (where unbelievably I picked up a swarm of flies going through some woods) I dragged my weary arse and screaming feet into the town, found a pharmacy with the help of a colourful local who led the way for me ( Hebden is full of colourful alternative people) I bought some more foot first aid stuff, then went onto the pub.. oh joy oh bliss lovely big room , double bed, huge bathroom, sofa and chair.
I may have left you wondering about the flies.. when I emerged from the wood with a squadron of flies buzzing around me, I was trying fruitlessly to swish them away with my map folder when I passed a couple of female walkers going the other way.. they looked at me strangely as this Akubra Hatted Australian walked passed with his buzzing company.. they must have thought I brought them with me from Oz.. wot no corks! Day One Edale to Torside 16 miles walked including a small diversion looking for a plane wreck8/4/2015 Day started off well for walking, set off around 8.30 after breakfast, it was overcast and cool, an hour into the walk and into steep climbs up Jacobs Ladder then on to Kinder Falls.
My plan on this walk was to visit several wartime aeroplane crash sites that are dotted around the Pennine Way, this first day had 3 such sites I could try, unfortunately in managing the database of my GPS I had neglected to load in the wreck sites so whilst I knew where they were vaguely on the map I could not navigate to them with pin point accuracy. I had an attempt to wander of track to look for a B29 wreck but it was hopeless so after wasting about 15 mins I resumed track. The path was very easy to find compared to the Coast to Coast trail.. plenty of signs along the way removing all ambiguity when alternative paths beckoned, also for at least two thirds of the day the path was either paved with flagstones or rough steps during the climbs and descents. The flag stones and better steps are used along parts of the path that go through the peat bogs to stop erosion and prevent walkers from disappearing neck deep in the quagmire. The rougher parts are where the ground is firmer and does not require these niceties. The slabs often squelched when stepped upon, laid down floating in the muck so to speak. Where a small stream cuts through the peat a trench is formed (called a grough) if the path were not paved and the grough bridged by an extra big slab, walkers would have to go over the stream finding the least muddy route down to the stream and up again, of course thousands of boots churn up the grough for hundreds of meters either side of the path crossing (this is what it is like on the Coast to Coast between Kirby Stephen and Keld.. where the groughs take on the proportions of the Somme front line trenches. The last third was awful though, rough broken stone, narrow footwell paths, toe jamming descents that went on for an eternity, I let out a few cuss words along this portion. Now when the path is challenging like this, one's eyes are necessarily always down looking at your feet and I couldn't help noticing that all the sheep poop on the path had now taken a purple colour, this puzzled me for a while until I realised that there were many Billberry bushes in the heather and that these berries which have a reputation for turning one's mouth blue black after eating them, were obviously being consumed by animals and their droppings showed the colours of their diet. I pondered over this and thought that perhaps there could be a market for Bilberries in Western Australia, after all what purple blooded Fremantle Dockers supporter wouldn't want to be able to say truely " I am such a great Dockers fan I actually shit purple". The market wouldn't end with Dockers supporters however, with clever advertising you could get West Coast Eagles supporters to eat them on the basis that they would shit Dockers... see what I mean? win... win Anyway I arrived at Torside quite knackered, thirsty and footsore just before 6 pm, I was pleased to find they had a reservation and a nice room for me.. ground floor whoo hoo! Two cups of tea, shower off to pub for dinner and two pints then back home to prepare for tomorrow and type this.. no internet unfortunately so I will post these blogs up when I can. Jeanie came to Edale with me to drop me off at the B&B. Being a weekend with fine weather in the middle of school holidays (grr I hate school holidays) the place was packed with walkers and cyclists clogging the narrow country lanes.. several times I had to execute around 16 point turns to get out of some tight spaces. It didnt help that the GPS took us through Sheffield to get there.. what a pain. When we got to the B&B I taken to my room.. a loft conversion with decapitating low beams over head and the bed positioned through some roof trusses requiring one to step over a beam while ducking to get to the bed. It was all pretty tasteful otherwise with a little sitting room adjacent to the bathroom with big bath (no shower) and toilet. This little room (the bathroom that is) had a window so you could look out into the sitting room whilst bathing or err sitting, similarly if one was in the sitting room one could peak into the goings on in the bathroom..like I said all very tasteful and seeing I was staying on my own not a problem (provided I had a permanent stoop and remembered to step over the beams in the night. So established in my room or so I thought (more later) we went to the pub (nags head est 1577!) had lunch then went for a walk. After a couple of hours we came back, jean drove off home and I went up to my room.. 10 mins later a knock on the door whoops it was not my room the hostess assumed I was Mr X and not Mr Y so I had to lump my stuff down again, she asked what was my name again.. I told her.. hmm she said, I dont have a reservation for you! Luckily she had a spare room which she emptied of her stuff, single bed wasnt too bad shared bath and toilet meh ok. Time for my usual B&B rant... why oh why do they fill the rooms and shelves and every horizontal surface with their decorative crap? I suppose the ladies and those gents of the decorator variety love that stuff but for me I WANT THAT SPACE, for my suitcase, laptop and MY other stuff. Pictures here include a 1770s build house with an 1850 addition, roof guttering is timber! requires oiling / sealing each year to make waterproof and stop rotting. The roof shingles are stone. The owner who was up a ladder sealing the guttering said there were 18 tons of stone on the roof! Held up by solid timber beams / trusses
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