That was the walk that was…

Well, it’s already a month since my last outing. "The Inn Way…to the Yorkshire Dales” route was a good walk too. Large sections were superb, particularly the first two legs. I must try to wangle a long weekend and walk the last couple of legs back to Grassington.

If there was a criticism it’s that there was perhaps a shade too much road walking, especially on the Askrigg to Reeth section. That said, the roads were very quiet and the landscape superb, even in driving rain and mist. It’s also difficult to see any obvious alternative on the map using established paths and tracks.

I was generally pleased with my physical performance, although a loss of condition over winter was all too obvious. I got one small blister on a big toe and sprouted spotty loins, presumably from walking in waterproofs. I otherwise survived unscathed.

My Meindl boots continued to disappoint. They leak and the heel is again becoming detached from the main body of the boot. They will have to be replaced soon – not by another pair of Meindls. Considering their cost and the fact that they’ve already had one factory repair, only 350 miles of use is abysmal performance: it works out at around 37p a mile.

I’ve used Pacerpoles for a year or so now and they’re now second nature. Despite looking faintly ridiculous to a casual observer I now consider them to be essential kit. They should come with hazard lights, however, to warn and protect bystanders and passers by: God knows how I’ve not skewered some other hapless rambler.

I’ve not yet decided on the year’s main project. I still fancy a trip to Bowness to walk the Windermere Way as a starter. It would be possible to arrange that as a single base trek, allowing Rita to have a (non-walking) break too. I’ll have to negotiate a longer solo expedition, probably in September. Maybe another of Mark Reid’s walks, “The Inn Way… to the English Lake District”.

Reeth to Carperby

Wednesday 28 April 2009

(Walking Distance: 11 miles)

Greets Hill

Bolton Castle

Breakfast was interesting. All the other guests were members of the vocal ladies walking group last met in the Kings Arms. They were, like me, heading home today. Coincidentally the walk leader came from Swainby, near Northallerton, my lift, John’s, birthplace. She knew his brother.

It was a dry, pleasant, if hazy, morning. I left for what I’d anticipated to be an easy ten mile walk to Aysgarth, where I’d arranged to meet John. The route headed south over moorland back into Wensleydale, crossing Apedale, an intervening valley, before descending to the River Ure.

Except in complicated surroundings I try to avoid walking with my nose in the map, preferring to study the route beforehand and navigating from memory, with only occasional reference to the Ordinance Survey or guidebook. This approach usually works well leaving the mind free to absorb and admire the surroundings. It does, however, have some drawbacks

I walked up the lane, passing a minor junction and the youth hostel, before hauling myself up onto the open moor. I was looking for a track off to the right: I found one but it didn’t quite match the description I’d read earlier. I belatedly consulted the map and realised I’d missed the lane to Redmire and continued along the road to Leyburn.

The good news was that I heard the first cuckoo of the season on the way up. The bad news was the two and a half miles extra distance and three hundred foot of wasted ascent.

Eventually I got back on route and found the track across the moor to the day’s highpoint, Greets Hill. The weather didn’t deliver the promised vista, however. Whilst the mist wasn’t bad enough to hinder navigation it limited the view to just a mile or two.

Apedale was suitably bleak, Black Hill was almost easy: might be getting fitter? I stopped for a break above Bolton Castle when the sun finally appeared.

It was getting near the three o’clock appointment with my lift. In the pastures after Bolton Castle my phone sprang to life, the first signal of the trip. It was John. Another half mile and I was done.

Askrigg to Reeth

Tuesday 28 April 2009

(Walking Distance: 12 miles)

Rain over Wensleydale

Another dire day forecast. At least it was dry for breakfast, and a very good one it was too. I’d like to have a weekend with Rita at the Manor House in the not too distant future. I’m told there’s a four post bed; I just hope the sciatica doesn’t return.

By the time I was packed up, got the shopping done and unfurled the Pacerpoles it was 9:45. The route over to Swaledale was via a minor road over Askrigg Common, then by a not-quite green lane (one with metalled, parallel tracks) above Oxnop Gill, down to Ivelet Bridge.

I struggled to the cattle grid on the open moor, only to look back into Wensleydale to see a lady jogger making short work of the climb. We chatted for a minute whilst I was donning waterproofs. The rain swept along the valley and hit us with a vengeance. It stayed with me for the rest of the day.

Although the first few miles were on roads, they were very quiet ones: only a couple of cars passed by on the Muker road and none at all on the lane to Satron.

When the mists swirled and cleared the surroundings were magnificent, often it was face down and head into the wind. Swaledale’s grand when you can see it. The rain didn’t ease when the moor was forsaken for the valley.

The Inn Way route headed high up along the valley side after the waterfall on Haverdale Beck, near Crackpot; I opted for a lower route shadowing the Swale. And so I plodded along not seeing another walker all day. After a couple of years of abstinence from red meat, give or take the occasional chop, I found myself fantasising over a plate of bangers and mash as I trudged along.

I was in Reeth by about three-thirty. I checked in at Hackney House at four.

The weather had tested my kit which, by and large, had stood the test. Underneath the waterproofs I was dry. My £120.00 Meindl boots faired less well: they leaked. On closer examination the right heel was parting company with the rest of the boot. The heel and stitching had failed last year on the Coast to Coast walk; this was their first outing since a factory repair. Brasher can anticipate a sale soon, Meindl never again.

Hackney House was grand with a large, comfortable, maybe slightly faded room.

Other than a vocal ladies walking group in the King’s Arms, Reeth was quiet. The pub fulfilled my fantasy by providing a posh but tasty version of bangers and mash.

Accommodation:

Hackney House

Bridge Terrace

Reeth

North Yorkshire

DL11 6TW

Telephone: 01748 884302

Buckden to Askrigg

Monday 27 April 2009

(Walking Distance: 12 miles)

Cragdale

Ruined Chapel, Stalling Busk

Semerwater

Track around Semerwater

Semerwater

Locals

Valley of the River Bain

Bainbridge

The day dawned wet with a dismal forecast for the rest of the day. The hotspot on my toe had developed into a fully fledged, but not too painful, blister. Waterproofs and Compeed are the order of the day. On the bright side my back was pain free.

Breakfast was a tasty, leisurely affair with no one in a hurry to begin the fight with the elements. A couple from Harrogate and a solo walker had shared the accommodation, both parties walking the Dales Way. The solo walker, a chap in his early twenties, was heading for Ribblehead, whilst the couple had a 20 mile hike ahead all the way to Dent.

I was gathered up and away shortly after nine.

Whilst I was familiar with the general area, today’s route was entirely along new ground. And very special ground, despite the weather, it proved to be. The route raises to the top of the Kidstones Pass, crosses Stake Moss to Cragdale, Raydale and Semerwater, before entering Wensleydale by way of the River Bain.

Despite the driving rain I made good progress along the Rake, the long pull up to the summit of Stake Moss and the magnificent high level yomp, along mainly green tracks and paths, to Stalling Busk. The big tops remained in cloud throughout.

At over a thousand foot elevation Stalling Busk’s daffodils were hardly out of bud. Its ruined abandoned chapel, a way out of the hamlet, provided a tranquil and comfortable lunch stop: the rain eased, then stopped; a new bench gave succour to aching limbs. It’s a very attractive spot to while away half an hour, munch apples and swig coffee: not good for people watching though.

The walk around the Semerwater was a little reminiscent of the Lakes, although Alfred Wainwright had apparently once described the tarn as a "muddy puddle". Bird life was prolific.

There were no walkers out today until a long crocodile was met wandering in expensive gear and noticeably mud free boots down the lane from Countersett to the shores of Semerwater.

In increasingly verdant surroundings I walked to Bainbridge, then along the top of Brough Scar, where another break was had, to Worton and Askrigg.

The Mark Reid book suggested a route passing Nappa Hall, but the gathering clouds dictated a more direct route across the fields to the village. I didn’t quite beat the rain, getting another soaking during the last quarter mile of the day.

The Manor House is a very comfortable and impressive Georgian town house in the centre of the village. The reception was welcoming, although I was conscious of dragging my muddied self into the otherwise pristine pile. I was the only guest.

There was little activity in any of Askrigg’s three pubs, but a reasonable meal was had before an early night.

Accommodation:

Manor House

Main Street

Askrigg

North Yorkshire

DL8 3HQ

Telephone: 01969 650986

£40.00

Arncliffe to Buckden

Sunday 26 April 2009

(Walking Distance: 7 miles)

Arncliffe

Littondale

Towards Pen-y-ghent

Buckden

The decision was made: Wharfedale after an early breakfast via a lift with number one son to begin a four day trip following a route inspired by Mark Reid's guide, “The Inn Way…to the Yorkshire Dales”.

So, here we are: midday, a full pack, sunny weather and a bed booked in Buckden, seven short, but rather steep, miles away. It’s my first day out since the Coast to Coast Walk back in September and my first with a full pack since my September 2007 walk along the Cumbria Way (the Packhorse having given sterling service shifting my bag along the C2C).

And thereby hung some concern... After the Cumbria Way I suffered a two month bout of sciatica, perhaps triggered by lugging a rucksack up and down some modest Lakeland Fells. Today, and for the past few days, I’d had niggling back pain. Would the walk lay me low for the next few weeks?

Littondale was lovely. The first swallows (or were they swifts?) of the season greeted me in Arncliffe. I bade farewell to my lift and gingerly lifted my not-too-heavy pack onto my all-too-tender shoulders.

After a couple of easy and pleasant miles to Litton, and a glass of pretend (alcohol free) lager the reality of the enterprise hit home. Birks Fell qualifies as a mountain by a smidgen: according to the book just topping 2000 foot by a few inches. It’s also very steep. It was, in truth, a bit of a sweaty struggle to get to the top. A winter of indolence exerted its painful toll. The Dutch couple who breezed effortlessly past me on the ascent had no such problems; they lacked the decency even to perspire.

The reward on a bright, clear spring afternoon amply repaid the pain. Grandly displayed was distant Pendle, nearer, Pen-y-ghent. The verdant trench of Wharfedale was flanked by the shapely heights of Simon’s Seat, Great Whernside and Little Whernside. Viewed from the ridge, however, Buckden Pike dominates.

It was good to be out. Time was plentiful. The curlews and lapwings were in song. The enjoyable amble off the hill down to Buckden was broken with a chat to a chap from Birmingham collecting Nuttalls: hills in England and Wales over 2,000 feet (610 m) with a relative height of at least 15 metres (49 ft).

I should have started the day nearer to Grassington. Despite my slow going I was in Buckden by 15:30hrs. I passed half an hour watching the world go by from a bench on the green before booking in at the fairly basic, but very comfortable and good value, B & B. The rooms are above a tearoom and, for good measure, a cuppa and bun are thrown in on arrival.

Buckden has a singular café offering good food in agreeable, unpretentious surroundings, with mildly eccentric and entertaining service. It’s infinitely preferable to the now sadly faded pub.

I’d had a good day. Other than a hotspot on my big toe no damage had been done. In fact for the first time in days the niggling backache had disappeared.

Accommodation:

West Winds Yorkshire Tearooms

Buckden

Skipton

BD23 5JA

Telephone: 01756 760883

£30.00