Journal:
I was ready
to leave by 7:30am and had the (very poor) hostel
English breakfast before saying my goodbyes to Karen
and Gay and hitting the trail and walking down
through Hawes.
Keith, whose bus didn't leave until 11am,
accompanied me for the first couple of kilometres
before we said our goodbyes and he headed back to
the hostel.
The weather was hazy and
overcast, but dry, as I began the long climb up
Great Shunner Fell (716m). There were already
a couple of hikers on the Pennine Way and,
determined to maintain a good pace, I began to catch
them from behind. One of them, who turned out
to be Yorkshire farmer out for a walk with no gear,
latched on to me and asked whether he could walk
with me. He seemed a little odd, but I agreed
and he turned out to be fine and very interested in
my hike. He had a broad accent and it was like
talking to Geoffrey Boycott for the 90 minutes it
took us to reach the peak, during which he answered
all my questions about farming in the area. He
then returned the way we had come and I continued on
at a good pace. Although it was a long climb,
it was rarely steep. The views were
impressive, but marred by the haze, with high fells
in all directions.
The path then descended
gradually to the very small village of Thwaite,
along stone-walled lanes, past ancient farms.
Then there was a steep climb to a narrow rocky path
which followed the contours of a steep-sided valley
with more good views and plenty of day hikers.
I passed by the village of Keld and a beautiful
waterfall before climbing solidly up onto another
moor. It began spitting with rain which soon
became a steady drizzle. I was hoping to get
to the Tan Hill Inn (the highest pub in England)
before they stopped serving lunch, but didn't know
exactly how far it was. It finally loomed out
of the fog and drizzle around 2:15pm, and was an
oasis for many people hiding from the weather.
They had a big fire going in the hearth and it was
busy. I decided, given I still had a long way
to go to my booked B&B at Clove Lodge, to just order
soup and a roll in the hope that it didn't take too
long. Wrong. Anyway, I finally got
walking again around 3pm in the continuing rain and
fog, this time across spongy and boggy moorland,
although apparently it's much drier this year than
usual.
The weather was
appropriate for a lonely moor and I didn't see any
other walkers for the rest of the day. Despite
the wet conditions, I still was able to maintain a
good pace, though my left heel was becoming a bit
tender, like it was bruised. I was pleased
with how strong I felt as I hurried across the bleak
moor, and didn't feel too tired at all. Just
as well, because I have another long day tomorrow.
I finally reached Clove
Lodge, an isolated farm, just after 6:30pm and was
greeted by the friendly host who quickly made me a
cup of coffee as I took my sodden boots off, and
then left me to shower in the ensuite room. He
gave me a very nice three-course dinner at 7:15pm,
though £18 still seemed a bit rich.
More rain is forecast
tomorrow, but I'm told the path is reasonable and,
with luck I'll make my target of Dufton, which will
put me back on schedule.
