Pennine Way – Day 19 – Torside to Edale (or Lost, Mist, Bog, Flags, Fin)

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Wondering aimlessly
Wondering aimlessly

As much as possible I have tried to avoid the weather forecast, after all it wouldn’t make any difference – we’d still have to head out – but at the weekend I did see a forecast in the Daily Mail which suggested that Manchester would have thunderstorms on Thursday. I was very glad to see that this didn’t happen.

A sign!
A sign!

The host at the Old House explained a “short cut” which would allow us to avoid going down about 20m before coming back up and we attempted to follow his instructions. This was a mistake. Later it would transpire that his instructions were sound but having thus far only followed our little blue line on the SatNav it seems we had lost any ability to live with out it. In frustration at one point I stormed off through the tussocks and fell over fortunately I did not twist my ankle (it would have been galling to fail on the very last day!) and we eventually made our way to the path.

Bog.
Bog.

The mist was probably the thickest we have had (even thicker than that which hid the Stooley Pike Monument) and there were no identifying features to be seen from the top of the hill. Climbing up towards the Snake Pass was difficult and the path was surprisingly difficult to find in places. At the top of the first peak we stopped for a brief lunch break and even with the GPS we managed to set off in the wrong direction! When we eventually found our way back to the path (which involved crossing the same stream at least twice) it was as a portion of flags were ending (which was greatly disheartening).

Three miles of flags!
Three miles of flags!

The American couple which we had met last night were planning to walk back from Edale and if they were to make it to Torside we would have expected to meet them somewhere around the Snake Pass though they were Alas no where to be seen. Once over the Snake Pass there began a beautiful path of flags which must be the longest single stretch that we have walked these last 19 days. It probably also represented the single greatest distance we ever covered in an hour some 2.8 miles.

Oooo a gap!
Oooo a gap!

The end of flags presented a reasonable time to have lunch even though it was at the foot of quite a steep hill. From a distance of about a quarter mile we saw a large party that were clearly out for the day on an organised walk who scrambled down the hill we were soon to travel and then stopped for their own lunch. I’m quite sure I saw one of them nipping round a hillock for a ‘wild one’ but of course from such a distance it was impossible to tell. I am certainly glad to have avoided the need for such activity and having deliberately chosen not to have a curry last night felt confident that I would avoid the need all the way to the end.

Goodbye flags.
Goodbye flags.

Scrambling up the hill was a bit tricky but as this was the last real climb of the walk it seemed to go by without too much difficult and once at the top dad had “remembered” that there was a “good path”. He was completely mistaken. While it wasn’t boggy there was no really discernible path and there were lots of quite big stones which made the going slow and cumbersome.

More moreland
More moreland

As we approached the waterfall below (which had some how created quite a large gouge in the rock) we did meet the American couple from last night. We recommended that they come off at the Snake Pass as if they carried on to Torside they would not make it until very late on in the day and would not be hugely enjoyable. They’d had some trouble with the mist (unsurprisingly). From where we met them, however, they were about to enter an area with some phone signal and the hosts at The Old House seem happy to come and pick one up from the Snake Pass so I am sure they got home safely.

A large detour for a small waterfall
A large detour for a small waterfall

I’m not totally convinced that the ridge we were walking on was anything other than dead flat but we did eventually make it to a place that the Ordnance Survey had satisfied themselves was an appropriate place for building a trig point and it seemed like a good place to break for our final second lunch. I am certainly going to miss second lunch once I return to Normalcy.

Atop our last hill.
Atop our last hill.

Well almost.
Well almost.

Now it was a simple matter of getting down in to Edale. Foolishly we decided to take the old pony track around Jacob’s ladder (a decision I think we also made ten years ago) only to see that someone had neatly arranged for there to be what looked like quite well maintained steps up the side. I can never decide what is the best thing to do as the “official” way went they way we went but it probably added a half mile and a good fifteen minutes compared to the alternative of going straight down the steps. Today being longer than we had walked for the last few days I was starting to feel really rather tired but from here to almost the end the path is exceptionally well maintained.

Jacobs Ladder
Jacobs Ladder

Arriving at the end was some relief. We had done it. I think my fathers ephiphany that Wainwright was infact simply a drunk who stumbled from pub to pub seemed rather apt as we drank our final pint and munched on our crisps before heading off to the station. When we set off I really did not expect that we should make it and I am confident that more preparation (especially on my father’s part) would have been a good investment. However, having said that we made it to the end and in only 18 days 10 hours 22 minutes and 13 seconds which I think is pretty good going really.

Journey's end
Journey’s end

Wait, have we come the wrong way?
Wait, have we come the wrong way?

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Pennine Way – Day 18 – Standedge to Torside (or Path, Resevoir, View, Flags, Tunnel)

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How did we get so lost last time?
How did we get so lost last time?

When we attempted the walk 10 years ago this journey was effectively the end of our contiguous endeavour. We must have gone wrong somewhere but starting off from this direction the path seems to be such a very well made track that is hard to conceive how we can have gone so wrong!

120 yds to the M11!?
120 yds to the M11!?

I certainly have no recollection of seeing this stone. Though I am rather confused by its contents. Advising, as it does, that we are about 120 yards from the M11. The GPS advised our course very well and we made a great deal of progress and I was optimistic that we might even make it to Torside while they were serving tea. Sadly it soon became obvious that it was not likely.

Looks like a nice path on the otherside.
Looks like a nice path on the other side.

One of the harder choices was whether to follow the Pennine Way down this ravine to make it to this delightful looking path on the other side or to continue along the current contour to join the way at the end of the first reservoir. A conversation at breakfast suggest that perhaps this later choice may be an earlier version of the Pennine Way and I wonder if it is possible that this could be where we went wrong all those years ago as once on the well made up path it continues on beautifully to the top of the hill where my father is sure that we stopped for a bacon roll at a burger van a little before noon all that time ago.

Framing the view.
Framing the view.

Sadly this time we clearly arrived just too late for the burger van (if the burger van still visits the lay-by) but it was around noon and so a good time for lunch. We stooped just over a wall and oddly a group of youths drove up this lay-by and asked my father to take a picture of them (clearly we had stopped to close to the road) which they then followed with some public urination and wild gesticulation and shouting at any that should come past.

The view over Holmfirth
The view over Holmfirth

The view from the top of this hill was really quite something and the pictures don’t do it justice. What looks like a much larger conurbation than I recall Holmfirth being was to be seen in the far distance dominated by a large tower which is barely visible in this picture. At the trig point was a good point to stop for second lunch and we met a couple who were walking the way together. The husband had done it before about 25 years ago for a meagre £25 and was bringing his wife along with him this time. I’m not sure if they will make it the whole way but they are camping and so able to stop at fairly regular intervals which may mean it takes them some time. I don’t really remember much of what it was like 10 years ago but my father reminisced with them about when the hill had really deserved its name of black moss and how well it had taken to grassing over the years since.

Torside approaches
Torside approaches

When we first got over the final hill of the day it seemed that we would soon be at Crowden. However, a quick perusal of the map soon put an end to any such hopes since even from Crowden it was another mile and a half to Torside. (Though this means we are left with a much tolerable 15.97 miles tomorrow). Today has generally been beautifully flagged though alas this last section seemed to have lots of difficult terrain between the sections of flags.

Endless flags!
Endless flags!

The Old House is a beautiful place to stay and they have transformed what used to be the guest lounge into a tea room with a large outdoor seating area. I think we technically arrived during the time when they are supposed to be open but with the end of the season approaching there was no-body else in. I later learned that they have a silent alarm on their gate so they are able to be more prepared if a paying guest arrived! They made us a delightful cup of tea (which felt well earned) and were good enough to sell me a slice of what was possibly the best rocky road I have ever tasted!

Overflowing gently.
Overflowing gently.

We also learned that the sneaky sock theives from Sheffield University are just generally careless having taken a jumper from their drying room. Though as it had been left behind by someone else I suppose it was technically abandoned and so isn’t really theft? The host was good enough to drive us down to a local pub where we good enjoy a tasty supper before having an early night a head of a long day tomorrow. Fortunately an American couple were staying for the ‘two day package’ and so we had the option to have breakfast at 0730.

A beautiful tunnel.
A beautiful tunnel.

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Pennine Way – Day 17 – Mankinholes to Standedge (or Bullying, Stone, Yorkshire, Lancashire, Tresspassing)

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It's gonna be one of those days.
It’s gonna be one of those days.

After a good deal of panic regarding my lack of socks it transpired that despite my advice my father kept back a spare pair of walking socks. I was concerned that having successfully avoided getting blisters for several days this change in socks seemed certain to lead to their renewal. The only alternative would be to take the bus (which I had astonishingly seen whisk pass the youth hostel at half past eleven last night) to Todmorden and hope that their was a shop there which sold outdoor equipment. If there was not a trip onto Skipton would have been necessary.

Flags! But not on the Pennine Way!?
Flags! But not on the Pennine Way!?

Having suspected that they had been accidentally been taken by one of the the large group from Sheffield I tweeted the man who seemed like their leader (he has an OBE don’t ya know) that ‘ I think one of your number have accidentally left Mankinholes with my only pair of walking socks ‘. This lead to an abusive exchange where he told me that now I knew how those on income support feel. At least he didn’t say filthy tory scum like the usual vile rants that left wing fruit cakes come out with. His bullying has in fact lead me to change my twitter handle to remove the reference to ‘tory’ since twitter is now used much more than just for commenting along with question time. Given his total refusal to engage (have a quick luck round and leave them at Torside) I could hope that they give whoever took them blisters but I’m bigger than that. Plus since dad’s socks worked out fine they actually did us a favour by lightening the load a little. Though I was kind of shocked at the total lack of respect for other walkers and their kit.

If man made does it count?
If man made does it count?

The bridge below with the flags above were the only examples we really saw of what was clearly a footpath being better made off the Pennine Way than on it. This bridge looks like someone has gone to quite a bit of work but it doesn’t seem to lead anywhere and is far too small for any kind of vehicle.

What a neat bridge.
What a neat bridge.

There has been no doubt that this walk has been greatly aided by the use of GPS. We have met people who think they are being clever / purists by refusing to use the tech but I think they are just stupid and I don’t really have any respect for it. If you want to push yourself further why not just add extra distance to your walk rather than playing a random game of ‘if I miss the turning I will do an extra 5 miles’. However, for those who did any kind of travelling in a time before GPS or, even further back before maps themselves, I have the upmost respect. Supposedly this stone was an ancient marker which was used to guide people but I don’t see how that can be true. It doesn’t stand out desperately and so only confirms that you are in the right place rather than helping you to find the right way.

An ancient standing stone
An ancient standing stone

I don't think we were supposed to touch it.
I don’t think we are supposed to touch it.

Today’s route took us past more trig points than any other (3 in total). I’m not sure we went past more than one on any other. Two of the trig points were on top of very large rocks and in order to get up for the view it required some climbing. Oddly (though perhaps not unsurprisingly) each had a divit that made for a rather nice foot hold. It does make me wonder what they are for and of course this being the age of wikipedia I was very easily able to find out! It seems that when they were built in 1935 from each it was possible to see two others and thus by careful measurement of the angles between them it was possible to build a very highly accurate map of Britain. (Well of these triangles anyway). I wonder if that would make a really interesting life challenge to visit all of them and make your own map. Though it isn’t something I will be looking to do in a hurray!

From the top of a trig point.
From the top of a trig point.

We met several walkers out today. Having been walking from North to South for the most part we had been meeting people who had already done substantial parts of the walk. For the first time we were now meeting people who had only recently started their walk. This brought home to me most at one point when I congratulated a young woman on getting this far and she pointed out that it is us that should be congratulated.

It doesn't look like it does in Wallace and Grommit
It doesn’t look like it does in Wallace and Grommit

Crossing the M62 I was deeply disappointed to discover that the Burger van that con sometimes be found there is very much a morning only affair. 10 years ago I think we walked sufficiently slowly that we missed it on that occasion as well. I suppose it is always possible that there is no longer a greasy burger van that greets those leaving Saddleworth in the morning so that they can sneak a greasy burger without their significant other finding out. There is, however, no doubt that for me personally crossing this bridge felt like a symbolic return to civilization (where civilization here really means the area where one grew up).

A lasting legacy
A lasting legacy

It seems that following the death of a loved one who walked up in the hills someone chose to erect this stone in their memory. It made me wonder if the medieval standing stone from earlier was similarly erected. Given how easy it would be to get lost on the hills above Greenhead or the moor on the way to tan hill perhaps the erection of such stones as memorials to this who have walked the way could be a great way to make it easier for those walking it in the future.

The race to the finish.
The race to the finish.

Taxi booked to meet us by the old Globe House Farm we missed the turning, and seeing the track, I chose to make a bee-line for it. There was a fence but it was so poorly maintained that without doing anything more than a bit of limbo (i.e. I did not need to climb over it and an animal would not even have noticed it) we made it through a field to the path. Some local decided that he would try and give me a telling off for this, “you know your off the path, you’ve had to climb over walls and fences to get here.” One of the many problems with knowing a little bit about the world works is that irrespective of it being theoretically trespassing with no prospect whatever of a criminal convection and the damages being less than ten pence I couldn’t really give a rat’s nose. If the owner wants to sue me then please go ahead in advance I make you a part 36 offer for the aforementioned ten pence.

Our taxi awaits.
Our taxi awaits.

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Pennine Way – Day 16 – Ponden to Mankinholes (or Mist, Rain, Mist, Monument, Thief!)

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A delightful aspect.
A delightful aspect.

Clearly we were going to have a one of those days where I am immensely grateful that I never even considered for a minute not using GPS as our primary means of navigation! Breakfast was quite interesting. There was a couple staying who were going back over the bits of the path that the woman had missed out when she had done almost the whole thing slightly earlier in the year. It’s most unfortunate for others but our weather has really been delightful which somehow makes the achievement feel less than (though I am exceedingly glad we have had such good weather.)

Wuthering Heights!
Wuthering Heights!

When staying at Ponden Hall the owner had suggested that when a couple had asked for a short walk he had sent them on a little 20 minute trip to the House that supposedly enspired Wuthering Heights. Perhaps on a beautiful day if you know exactly where you are going, have no bags and are very fit you could it in 40 minutes, but I must side with his guests who came back a little exasperated that such a walk were a full scale hike and that it would have likely taken over two hours for a round trip. Assuming you were back in time for dinner it would likely leave you quite excited at the prospect of food, glorious food.

Flags!
Flags!

I know I have said it before but without having been up on the moors it is difficult to convey quite what a welcome sight they are when they arrive. It is sad really that they are not marked upon the map so that they could be really looked forward to and to make it less disappointing when they end or are very brief.

A beautiful path, slightly longer, but it doesn't go down.
A beautiful path, slightly longer, but it doesn’t go down.

With still enough days left for it to feel like a chore and the fact that this was all part of the walk that we had done before it was very difficult to resist the temptation to not take the Pennine Bridleway instead of the Pennine Way when it offered a very similar route only with less deep ravines and so it proved as we approached this particular stretch. My map progress software indicated that there was a totally unnecessary decline of 50m followed by an equally steep climb up the other side. When there was such a beautifully well made alternative it was no challenge to chose it.

Trimming the verge
Trimming the verge

Walking past the reservoir did, however, necessitate that we could see a group of men (one assumes working for the water board) moving the bank of the reservoir. I do not know for certain but I had always imagined these to be nothing more than banks of earth and thus it seems a little odd that they should need to be mown in this way. Can it really be true that if they are left to the sheep alone they can in someway degrade?

to a waterfall?
to a waterfall?

Over the hill and it seems we really missed out by not having a guide book with us. I saw a sign that advertised a shop which sells everything you can imagine and I must admit that I was briefly tempted but in my haste I decided to push on because what we really needed to do was go down a steep ravine to see this piddling little waterfall (rather than visit the shop and thus legitimately walk around it!).

Must we go down?
Must we go down?

My father has articulated a suspicion that Wainwright was simply a drunk who wandered aimlessly from Inn-to-Inn, rather than a genius crafting a walk to take in some of the best scenery in the country. I must confess that I can not agree with this idea but when you arrive at the top of a place like this to see that one is simply going to have to go down for no other reason than to come straight back up one can have a little sympathy. If we had shaved a day off the journey from Standedge to Malham we would probably have been stopping at Badgerfield’s farm which we were about to pass (a place we stayed ten years ago).

Must we go down?
Must we go down?

While we did take a few detours today it felt too much to walk around the side of Stoodley Pike and thus miss out the monument at the top. From the ground we could see it reasonably well and my map promised reasonable track up most of the way. I must confess I thought it likely that there would have to be some track all the way to the Pike since someone built the damn thing surely. Alas it transpired that they had built it in commemoration of the Napoleonic War some 200 years ago and so no track had been built to get up to it (you should see some of the paths the build now a days for nothing more than a Pylon). Thus having felt such temptation it seemed necessary to take a picture of the monument but even from 44m away (honestly where the picture below was taken) it was hardly visible. It looked as if someone had stolen it.

Who stole Stoodley Pike?
Who stole Stoodley Pike?

Which neatly brings me on to the issue of my walking socks. Left neatly in the drying room on a clothes hanger between my coat and my fathers I felt sure they would be safe. While I would probably not leave my iPad or laptop on display unattended for a long period in a youth hostel it would be a special kind of arsehole who would steal a fellow walkers walking socks wouldn’t it? I have no evidence but the circumstantial facts are these. They left the drying room suspiciously close to the same time that a large group of academics from Sheffield University left for the pub and someone from that group was drying a pair of identical socks along with their boxer shorts on the radiator after returning from the pub later that evening.

A not yet squished frog.
A not yet squished frog.

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Pennine Way – Day 15 – East Marton to Ponden (or Bridge, Up, Down, Up, Down)

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Good bye my lover.
Good bye my lover.

Alas with a case dropping into her dairy my most beloved Hannah was taken from me. The more observant of you will notice that this is in fact the picture of her arriving in Malham but who cares? Fortunately, or should I say unfortunately given our intended arrival back at Ponden this evening, it was not before she had driven us back to East Marton to restart our journey. Our delightful hosts at Ponden Hall are to be thanked for a most excellent breakfast but I suppose this should be expected at what was by far the most upmarket establishment I suspect we shall visit throughout this entire trip.

When two bridges collide.
When two bridges collide.

Sadly there is no evidence on the map that this bridge exists and certainly nothing I noticed pointing out that there is no way down from the road to the canal and thus we added at least a half of a mile getting from where we dropped off at the pub next to the bridge walking to the bridge and then walking back round so that we could pass under the bridge. Any hope that we might walk along the canal for a little while was dashed when we soon after came off and went into a field.

The top of Everest.
The top of Everest.

With the rain of yesterday passed a beautiful days walking lay ahead. Having been able to be moved about in a car allows for all but the last day to be less than 14 miles. Today was also the day that we would pass the symbolic milestones of having walked over 200 miles and have climbed more ascent than between sea level and the top of everest. It seems odd these two milestones should occur in such close proximity.

Well in a statistical sense.
Well in a statistical sense.

As a child I remember having three “life goals” of which one was to run a marathon and another to climb Everest. Given that I can think of no actual reward for achieving such a goal and the astonishingly high probability of death (approximately equal to that of Alan Johnson leading labour into the next election) I suspect I will take this as my proxy and think not of doing any such silly thing.

A patchwork quilt.
A patchwork quilt.

Is my father thinking of taking an extraordinary running jump at this wall? If I am honest by this point of our journey any novelty has completely worn off and from when we set off in the morning until we arrive at our destination in the evening I find myself paying less and less attention to the countryside we are walking through and of nothing more than putting each new step in front of the previous one.

Is that rain I see before me?
Is that rain I see before me?

Eventually we arrived back at Ponden and though we were not extravagant enough to stay in the exceptional Ponden Hall this evening we were fortunate enough to stay in the still quite delightful Ponden House which can be little more than 10 yards away from our previous lodgings! Oddly enough despite feeling like we were in the middle of nowhere Just-Eat were able to provide us with two delightful pizzas and (due to a perceived minimum spend on my part which may not actually even have been real) 8 cans of Pepsi.

And the award for the world's smallest Cairn goes to ...
And the award for the world’s smallest Cairn goes to …

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Pennine Way – Day 14 – Malham to East Marton (or Rain, Rain, Rain, Rain, Rain)

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To the rescue
To the rescue

Knowing that Hannah was coming to visit I had been able to book accommodation outside the immediate vicinity of Malham. However, never being wholly satisfied that Hannah won’t get a last minute High Court injunction I’d had to book somewhere on the path (6 miles away in Gargrave) we had a great evening in a lovely room at the Mason’s Arms and she was able to drive me back to meet dad in Malham for a decent start around 10 am.

Cow goes moo, sheep goes baa
Cow goes moo, sheep goes baa

Today was a rest day of sorts and it absolutely threw it down. We only had ten limes to do and so thus needing less water than might normally be the case and having to wear our waterproofs due to the deluge I decided to leave my rucsack in the car with Hannah. A lead my father seemed happy to follow.

The end of the BGFA
The end of the BGFA

It briefly stopped raining as we reached the BGFA limit. I assume this has something to do with a fishing association. It being a Saturday on fairly flat terrain but with nice views up at Malham we expected to see a number of other walkers though the number we saw was quite unexpectedly large! We would later pass a church hall with a LDWA sign in front of it near Gargrave so I assume that it was the “Long Distance Walkers Association” and that they all came from there.

We spin cotton.
We spin cotton.

What I found really odd though was that they all had their own maps and didn’t seem to be following each other which, for such a large group, seemed quite redundant. I suppose there would always be the risk that the person you happened to follow would not be part of your group and you would end up off in the middle of nowhere but that seems highly unlikely.

Can you see the path.
Can you see the path.

I was, however, once again very happy for GPS for we fell off the path several times as there was often a requirement to get from one side of a field to another with little to no information to guide you, or worse a false friend like this which was a completely different path that was clearly followed by many of the other not using a GPS.

A rising lock lifts all boats.
A rising lock lifts all boats.

We arrived at East Marton in time for a delicious lunch though sadly Hannah had not grabbed us a table by the fire and so we ate it without really drying out. However, the staff were kind enough to let us put our boots out to dry in front of the fire. Of course this would prove to be unnecessary.

Uh-oh
Uh-oh

Trying to find somewhere to stay for a Saturday night in so tourist friendly a part of the world as Malham with only a days notice is not very sensible and in fact is likely to leave you unable to find anywhere. Fortunately as Hannah was staying I was prepared to splash out on a little bit of luxury and Ponden Hall was found.

Have we stumbled into a palace?
Have we stumbled into a palace?

The rooms were huge and my and Hannah’s room even had a “box bed” which made it feel much more like a sitting room than a bedroom. Both rooms had delightful wood burners and the owners were very friendly even lending Hannah and I a chess board on which Hannah beat me. When we arrived they even invited us down to eat some cake and have a chat – really a most delightful place to spend the rest of our rest day.

Has, has Hannah won?
Has, has Hannah won?

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Pennine Way – Day 13 – Horton-in-Ribblesdale to Malham (or up, wind, up, tarn, cove)

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Can you see the face?
Can you see the face?

Perhaps it should have been obvious but having got to the Golden Lion and having had a shower dad was happy to attempt to continue. Given that all the remaining days until the last two are much easier than our previous days I can see no way that we will now fail to complete the walk. Of course we have not yet had any bad weather and perhaps this will dampen our spirits.

A long way down.
A long way down.

Exactly as I remember it the path up Pen-y-ghent was essentially immaculate. I recall with some clarity that when we arrived at Horton-in-Ribblesdale 10 years ago that from here it would surely be easy and that we were only giving up due to the pending start of term in Cambridge. I suspect that this opinion was made much easier by the lack of a requirement to actually complete the walk.

We claim this hill, for Yorkshire ...
We claim this hill, for Yorkshire …

For some reason I thought it would be fun to carry a Yorkshire flag around with me on this walk. I had only had it out on the first day so far and having decided to continue past our obvious break point it felt like a good day to get it out again.

PATH!
PATH! But then another hill.

At the top of the hill the wind was substantial but it was but nothing compared to how it was on the way down. The side down which we were climbing was, of course, the usual ascent side and it was quite a scramble. When climbing up almost shear rock one is not in much danger as a fall forwards would be not very far at all but coming down it feels quite unstable. Though as hard as it was it was but nothing compared to the difficulty one person was having as they attempted to carry their rather large and rather rugged looking mountain bike up the side of the hill for their first attempt at off road cycling!

Conservative Party Logo?
Conservative Party Logo?

Once we were over the days two hills the scenery really opened out at the countryside was very beautiful. One thing that can not really pass without comment was the number of people who appeared to be walking their dogs. “I’m just popping up Pen-y-ghent to stretch the dogs legs,” must be a common refrain in the houses of Ribblesdale but it seems like total madness to me.

An idyllic path
An idyllic path

The final approach up to Malham is through some rather well maintained national trust property. With weather like we had it looks particularly splendid. There was even a couple of people out on the Tarn in a little boat, though I imagine they were scientists from the nearby research centre.

An Idyllic cove
An idyllic tarn

Sadly once past the tarn it is a real scramble round to the cove. Despite being very clearly a vibrant tourist attraction it would seem that the tourist mainly drive between the Tarn and the Cove for the path seemed almost impassible in places. Our progress was excessively slow. But we did eventually get there and after looking around for a path marked on the map that must actually be straight down the cove crossed the cove and headed for Malham.

An idyllic cove
An idyllic cove

Down the cove and we were in Malham. Dad was satying in the youth hostel tonight (which along with everywhere else was full) but they were kind enough to let me shower there before I met Hannah. (Who was meeting us in Malham tonight!) which had the distinct advantage of leaving me smelling almost tolerable so we were able to enjoy a nice dinner in Malham rather than rushing off to the place we were staying 6 miles down the road!

An idyllic extinct waterfall
An idyllic extinct waterfall

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