Day 11 Langdon Beck to Dufton

Text and photo upload pending...

Day 10 Bowes to Langdon Beck

Day 9 Keld to Bowes

Day 8 Hawes to Keld

DRAFT - photos to come

More trudging in the rain across peat bog. Stopped at at shelter to find Eric's message  on a strip of bandaid lodged in the rock - to meet up in the town ahead.

Had tea and scones with Eric where Ken had booked to stay but Eric planned to press on beyond Keld.

Lovely green country high along the river valley Keld - the Interesction of the PW and C to C

Keld Bunkhouse and insufferable midges outside - pity those camping as I'd planned but for eing with Richard and the rain. Lovely communal area with coffee and biscuits.

I was expected after tip off from Terry Hales.
Beef curry dinner for 7 pounds and breakfast included.

Australian couple - he walking the C to C - she car touring and pick ups.

Ex Army SAS type walking the C to C and mostly wild camping regaling us with tales of Iraq

Recently retired Lawyer on the C to C.

The benefits and false economies of NOT camping finally dawned on me.

Day 7 Horton to Hawes

Photos and proper text still to come

Rained all day as usual. Even Ken found it depressing going.

Hawes YHA really nice (where I stayed with Richard) as was the Pub where we all had our group picture taken.

Late evening trip to the famous railway viaduct nearby.

to be continued...

Day 6 Gargrave to Horton in Ribblesdale

After a week or so to allow my feet to recover and to catch up with family and friends here and there I returned to Gargrave by several buses via the pretty canal town of Skipton.

I arrived at the Gargrave campsite late in the evening to find the shower block locked for the night . It rained all night. I set off at 7am without any breakfast because I’d planned to combine the Gargrave to Malham section with the Malham to Thorton-in-Craven section. It rained heavily through the morning.

I reached Malham at about 9am. A pretty small village, very popular with walkers wanting to visit the several dramatic features of Gordale Scar, Malham Tarn, Fountains Fell and the nearby ruins of Fountains Abbey.

Two competing B&B pubs offered complete breakfasts for a modest sum. As I pondered one I spotted three men leaving dressed as if for the PW as indeed they said they were. My need for company on such a rainy day and need for breakfast were in severe conflict so I went to a sweetshop I’d spotted earlier and bought enough chocolate, fudge and other such supplies to boost me along and without delay, thinking how a cooked breakfast would have been so nice on such a bleak day.

I caught up with Ken, James and Erik just above the impressive Gordale Scar. It continued to rain but we were all in good spirits.

Ken a 64 year old semi-retired lawyer from the USA, was walking from Lands End to John O’Groats – without a single day off. He was an accomplished adventurer as his impressive past expeditions to remote places revealed as we walked and talked. Ken had booked all his accommodation right through. And he carried a decent size pack that included his laptop.

James, in his fifties, was not very talkative but clearly enjoyed walking national trails.

Erik was from the Netherlands. He was a ‘Change Manager’ and we shared many views on a wide range of management, politics and other subjects.

As we climbed above Gordale Scar the scenery became even more dramatic; treacherously slippery block limestone pavements and fissures, gushing waterfalls and sinkholes and all the attributes of limestone country. We walked through the drizzle, past the lovely Malham Tarn and came to a road alongside which was a small barn with door slightly ajar and all crept in to shelter from the rain and enjoy morning tea.

Later we began the climb up to Fountains Fell, past countless ancient colliery workings and pits in an otherwise bleak and dreary landscape. The PW Official Guide reads ‘… Fountains Fell gets its name from the nearby abbey, but does not have the atmosphere of a Christian Place – it certainly carries the curses of many a lonely walker and lack the grace of Pen-y-ghent which … now lies ahead…’

Pen-y-ghent came into view, though the summit most of time hidden behind a plume of cloud. Only Erik and I seemed eager to climb to the summit while Ken and James took a shortcut into Horton-in-Ribblesdale where the prospect of a pub and bunkhouse was too great a temptation. Ken agreed to try to secure me a place in the bunkhouse, I having long since lost the will to camp.

The summit proved and enjoyable climb made all the nicer by a short break in the weather. The official PW path down from the summit proved far more interesting than the shortcut that Ken and James had taken but they were admittedly well into their beers once we had arrived with the good news that they had secured me a room in the bunkhouse behind.

Day 5 Ponden to Gargrave

I set off from Haworth alone by bus to rejoin the PW at Ponden. My walking companion Ian of previous days had long since made an early start after being dropped off back off on the PW by his father, and skipping a section he’d done often before. We agreed to meet up that evening.

Once again it rained nearly all day, as I walked across mostly moorland and sheep grazing land.  As the guidebook says of this section, ‘…a grey day may lie ahead over moors and mires …but by evening there will be green fields … (and in the next section) … the best of the PW will brighten any gloom…’

A text message from Ian indicated he was so far ahead of me I was unlikely to catch up with him at this rate.

I reflected on my daily rate of progress. I had only been covering the 12 to 16 miles (20 to 25 kilometers) recommended by the Official PW guidebook. My walking pace was faster than others, especially uphill, in spite of my heavier back pack which included camping and cooking gear and food. Most of the other PW hikers I was to meet were either having their gear transported for them or they only stayed in pubs and B&B or hostels and had no need for camping gear or food. Mine comprise well over half my pack weight.

I was however surprised to find how much my blisters and sore tendons slowed me down later in the day. I came to realise that it was a combination of the pack weight on my feet and their saturated condition: I’d had to cut holes in the side of my new boots to ease the tendon pain. Water poured into my boots at every puddle and left my socks un-cushioned, and the skin on my feet wet and soft – perfect blister conditions.

I decided to walk beyond the pretty hamlet of Thorton-in-Craven, the recommended end of a relatively short section and pressed on to the larger town up ahead of Gargrave.

Though the scenery became more like the Yorkshire Dales and finally I came to a lovely canal and nearby pub where, in spite of my muddy state had to stop for a water, a coke and a cider in quick succession. I shuffled off along the canal to Gargrave with my tendons screaming and a worrying soreness in my groin, signs of infection from by blistered feet.