A Dales High Way

A Dales High Way: July 2012

Day 1: Saltaire to Skipton (19 miles)

Out of the house at 7 am to catch Saltaire train. Weather overcast but dry despite alarming forecast of torrential rain and wind. Hens refuse to get off their perch and go outside when we open up, a sure sign bad weather is on the way.

Start walking at 7.45 am, along the canal and up onto Shipley Glen, where we spot the first Dales High Way marker. Proceed briskly to Ilkley Moor, which is not as wet underfoot as expected, though that may change as we are walking under a gathering raincloud.

First mishap of the trip recorded on the Otley Road stretch where David trips on a pebble and falls over, cutting his lip and grazing both knees. Medical assistance not needed but we stop by the Twelve Apostles for a restorative video session and coffee from the thermos.

Jackets on as we reach White Wells at 11am and turn left towards Addingham Moorside in mizzling rain, fantasising about life in the millionaire houses along the path. Lots of dog walkers with friendly dogs, especially when we stop for lunch and they realise that David has ham sandwiches.

Up onto the path at Addingham Moorside through waist high bracken and wet grass - a spectacular walk in better weather. Not so today as the rain is getting heavier and the wind picking up, so the forecast was right after all, though the views are worth it even with limited visibility. Guidebook sodden (sorry Tony and Chris!), feet squelching and I suspect my boots are leaking.

Last section of track thick with deep, evil smelling mud; we reach the village without being sucked to our doom but opt for the alternative road route to Addingham, which also happens to pass tea shops. Make for Fleece Deli where the staff graciously ignore the fact that we are sopping wet and splattered with cow dung, and serve us hot drinks and scones with delicious strawberry jam. 

Rain stops while we are in the deli and the air temperature rises several degrees. Remove jackets and set off for the last lap - an easy track with lovely views opening out in the late afternoon sun, unfamiliar to us although we have lived in the area for 30 years.  Skip nimbly round flooded bits of path despite sodden boots, reach Skipton at 4.45pm and make straight for Ultimate Outdoors where the staff are very helpful (and do not flinch at the state of my socks) and I buy a new pair of boots in 15 minutes flat.

Stride to Parkhill B&B wearing new boots  and receive a warm welcome from Anne who whips the wet boots away to be dried and shows us to the deluxe room as someone has just cancelled - so we have a four poster bed, complimentary sherry and a bathroom the size of our living room at home.  Soak in bath whilst sipping sherry, finding it hard to believe that we have just walked 19 miles. Drape guidebook on heated towel rail and go out for fish and chips in Busy Lizzie's. Both upbeat and looking forward to the rest of the walk.

Day 2: Skipton to Malham (13 miles)

There is a grape vine twining round the inside of the conservatory, though its root is outside - Anne shows us where they have drilled a hole in the wall to let it in. After a lovely breakfast with fresh fruit platter, we linger too long in Skipton buying sandwiches, filming and using the cash machine, so start walking rather late at 10 am. Up Chapel Lane in warm sunshine followed by a steep pull up a grassy slope which makes me glad I resisted the temptation of a full English breakfast.

Pass golf course and green burial site where our friend Martin lies. Exchange greetings with various dog walkers, then up the track to Sharp Haw - another walk we haven't done before. Excellent views though rather windy on top, then down onto Flasby Fell where we manage to find only three of the blue topped guideposts mentioned on the website and even these keep disappearing into the bracken if you take your eyes off them for a second. Can only conclude they are operated by elves who are taunting us by pulling them underground out of site.

Leave Flasby Fell with relief and eat sandwiches by the beck, then stroll on to Hetton with its pretty houses, several with a cattle grid across the driveway. The Angel Inn, not unreasonably, does not admit customers with muddy boots, but the staff are charming and bring us a tray of tea which we drink outside, sitting under the smokers' canopy.

The weather starts to close in as we start the long tramp up to Weets Top, though feet still dry despite boggy traverse after leaving Winterburn reservoir. New boots obviously a good buy. Moorland deserted until Gordale, where all of a sudden there is a ganglion of people and camper vans. Through the woods to Janet's Foss - spectacular after all the rain - and arrive at Beck Hall B&B at 5.15 pm, not bad after late start. Rain starts in earnest as we are checking in and both feel very smug. 

Interesting room with mullioned windows and sloping floor, and there is an open fire downstairs. We have had tea here before but never stayed overnight.  Splash along the road to the Buck Inn where I have salmon and David has sausages. Turn resolutely away from the apple strudel and return to Beck Hall for coffee and custard creams, then doze off watching repeat of Lewis on TV.

Day 3: Malham to Feizor (12.3 miles)

Still pouring with rain and the beck is racing along. get up with great effort at 7.30am and in dining room by 8am. Poached egg for me, smoked salmon and scrambled egg for David.

Set off for Malham Cove at 9am, manoeuvre cautiously round cows which seem to be deliberately blocking the path, then up the steps to the top of the cove. Immediately discover impossibility of walking across wet limestone pavement when wearing varifocals (you can't gauge the distance to the ground) so skirt round the top to join the Pennine Way. It is raining hard by now, also cold, and we are both wearing jackets, hats and gloves. Only another walker would understand how much we are both enjoying ourselves.

Very windy at Stockdale Lane, also wet underfoot. Highland cows still in the same field as when Chris led a walk up here in May, part of the ride2stride festival. We must lack her authority as the cows are restive and bellow angrily at us. Eat sandwiches overlooking Attermire Scar but it is too cold to linger and we descend to Settle with the lovely valley opening out ahead, then make our way unerringly to the Naked Man cafe where David has cappuccino and I have delicious warm spiced apple juice. Buy a nice set of china egg cups for Jackie who is looking after our hens, then emerge from cafe to find that once again rain has stopped and temperature risen - clearly a good reason to sample as many cafes as possible.

Pleasant riverside stroll to Stainforth; weirs spectacularly full, roaring with tea coloured water and creamy foam. Sit on riverbank with coats off to eat crisps from packed lunch, and David even puts on a sunhat. What a difference three hours makes.

Last section takes longer than expected (they always do) and we arrive at Feizor at 4.30 pm. Scar Close B&B is idyllic, with a view from our window of hillside and sheep. One of the sheep has its leg in a splint. John and Julia give us tea and flapjacks, and later on John drives us to and from the Gamecock Inn in Austwick where he has arranged a 10% discount for SC guests. Meal is excellent, though we are both so full we feel we should decline John's offer and walk back to Feizor. Lots of laughing and banter in the bar - the manager and staff are French so Austwick is obviously doing its bit for entente cordiale.

Day 4: Feizor to Chapel-le-Dale (12.6 miles)

This morning there is a rabbit sunbathing on the lawn, drying its fur after heavy rain in the night. Breakfast on melon and Julia's special healthy option muesli with sunflower seeds and toasted almonds before setting off for Ingleborough in brilliant sunshine, past secluded cottages and hedgerows full of wild flowers. The beck is sparkling under the clapper bridge at Austwick and we even slap on some sun cream.

Slight hitch at Simon Fell when we overshoot the small cairn where we were meant to turn off and realise we have gone the wrong way. Short period of marital tension ensues as we try to work out where we are. David wants to cut across to where he thinks we are meant to be, but  I veto this for fear of bogs and potholes. Eventually retrace steps and locate cairn, which is so small that neither of us noticed it.  Pass through spectacular limestone pavement and onto Yorkshire Three Peaks route. Harmony now restored, we reward ourselves with one of Julia's flapjacks.

Up to the summit of Ingleborough with no further problems - cold and windy but good visibility. Eat lunch and watch paragliders as sheep look on contemptuously.

Descend from summit and peer nervously over the apparently sheer drop where the path seems to plunge over the edge. The problem is that it is only 1.30 pm and if we go this way we could be at our B&B in Chapel-le-Dale in a couple of hours. Decide to do ridge walk as far as Park Fell, then drop to Colt Park and double back along field paths to avoid road walking - all usefully marked on Tony's map and with a view of trains crossing the Ribblehead viaduct all the way.

Slither down muddy path to Colt Park and across field paths to Hill Inn. Paragliders are coming in for the evening and at least one of them has to fend off over curious cattle after landing in their field. Oddly they seem not to be in the least wary of a large orange object dropping from the sky.

Reach Croft Gate at 4.30 pm - another B&B in an idyllic location. Lovely room with old pine furniture and a brass bed. shower off mud and cow dung, using essential oil products made on the premises, and set off for the Hill Inn in a fragrant cloud of geranium and patchouli. Excellent meal of eggplant and tomato stew for me, haddock for David. Share a pudding of lemon tart which arrives intriguingly veiled in spun sugar - a speciality of the house apparently. After dinner we chat to another couple who have a copy of Tony and Chris's latest guidebook - Dales Rail Trails - which they got from their hotel in Settle. It seems miles away but distances feel very different when you cover them on foot.

Day 5: Chapel-le-Dale to Sedbergh (16 miles)

Wake to the smell of baking bread and consume a delicious breakfast of bacon sandwiches whilst chatting to Martin, B&B owner. He tells us to our astonishment that it is not unusual for 4000 people to do the Yorkshire Three Peaks walk at the weekend, mostly raising money for charity. You can even employ a local guide for £75 a day.

Other couple at breakfast are a bit taken aback when we tell them we have set a target of 1.5 hours per map page today as we have around 16 miles and over 600 m of gradient to cover. We have done this ever since a nasty moment on a previous walk when by lunchtime we realised with dismay that we had only done 3.5 miles and still had 13 to go.

Set off in the rain after a quick chat with a woman on her way to clean St Leonard's church. She tells us that her partner on the cleaning rota is 102 years old.

Pass the Charles L'Anson sculpture which was stolen in 1983 and found in deep water at the bottom of nearby Hurtle Pot. The thought of the pothole makes me uneasy - do the unwary hurtle down it?

Whernside looming on our left through the rain, though we decide to give it a miss as the top is invisible in the mist and it is very boggy underfoot. There is a large group of Three Peaks walkers at Blea Moor siding, some clearly already struggling on the steep path.

Stop at Boot of the Wold to eat banana bread from packed lunch and admire beautiful Dentdale spread out below. The rain stops and the Dales Way with its copious waymarks feels like an old friend, though we fall out with it soon enough as the riverside stretch is slick with mud and it feels as though a careless step could us send skidding over the edge into the Dee.

Miss our target time in Dent by 10 minutes due to mud but decide to stop anyway and go to the same cafe as last year - Stone Close - for home made tomato soup.

Set off refreshed along mercifully mud free riverside stretch, across the bridge and up a very steep lane, damp and full of wild flowers. Past a caravan housing a flock of hens, onto open moor and up on the ridge in double quick time where we award ourselves a quick break and a review of tomorrow's challenge in the form of the splendid Howgills ahead.

Frostrow Fell feels like one continuous bog but we yomp nonchalantly across without even getting wet socks before being nearly mown down by a speeding Land Rover on the short road stretch into Sedbergh.

Find B&B (High Roans) and get a warm welcome from Kath, who tells us that bookings are well down this year. Wash off usual patina of mud and cow dung, them proceed to Red Lion for home made free range chicken and mushroom pie, then return to B&B and sleep for eleven hours.

Day 6: Sedbergh to Newbiggin-on-Lune (10.9 miles)

Brilliant sunshine and stupendous view from Kath's dining room. Sausage and egg for David, porridge for me, and Kath has made a bowl of fruit salad specially for me. Set off from Joss Lane car park after buying provisions and even slap on a bit of sun cream.

Path up to Settlebeck a bit faint near the top but once on the ridge the way is clear up to the Calf, where there is a group of teenagers preparing to paraglide, all enthusiastically discussing Schwarzenegger films.

Very windy up on the ridge, and marshy underfoot. But what views! Over to the Lakeland Fells and as far as the coast, back to Frostrow, ahead to Sunbiggin Tarn, back along the ridge. And what luxury to walk for miles without stiles, gates or route discussions. No wild ponies, though we keep looking for them. 

Whilst descending West Fell we realise that yet again we are going to arrive at our B&B (Tranna Hill) far too early. Find a spot out of the wind and sunbathe like lizards for half an hour, opening our eyes from time to time to admire the view ahead.

Arrive at Tranna Hill just before 4 pm, feet aching from final road stretch. We have a lovely room with a king size bed facing the window, so that we can lie in state and look at where we have just been, if we can stay awake. Brenda helpfully drives us to the Kings Arms in Ravenstonedale, where David has lamb and I have leek, mushroom and suet pudding which is superb. Virtuously decline Brenda's offer of a lift back as the newly opened walk/cycle track means we can walk safely alongside the busy main road rather than scuttling dangerously along the verge.

Day 7: Newbiggin-on-Lune to Appleby (12.5 miles)

Sherpa van catches us out by arriving unexpectedly early at 8.20 am, interrupting an alarming anecdote from a fellow walker who is doing the C2C and stepped up to his waist in a bog in the Lake District. Driver apologises for turning up in mobile disco van, explaining that the usual vehicle has broken down. Luckily we packed the bag the previous night before falling into bed so it just needs zipping up.

Set off at 9.15 am towards Great Asby, both still a bit tired form yesterday. Surprisingly dry underfoot, though section beyond Great Asby was apparently all but impassable a few weeks ago. The turf is strewn with sheep's wool and I collect a bag to test its efficacy as a slug repellant as claimed by recent Guardian magazine.

Arrive in Great Asby to find it deserted apart from a group of teenagers slouching disconsolately in the playpark. The pub (Three Greyhounds) is also empty, even at Sunday lunchtime, though they make us a good pot of tea.

Reach Rutter Force with no problem, despite misgivings about notorious muddy stretch to come. Sit by the ford to finish accumulated leftovers of past few days' packed lunches, then squelch with aplomb through the waterlogged fields.

However at Bandley Bridge a group of heifers have trampled their fence and are on the riverside path, heads lowered and glaring at us. They break into a trot at our approach and, as we retreat hastily over the stile, about 30 more stampede from the top of the field, bellowing horribly. We scramble up to the top of the bank, hoping to go round the top of the field, but it is huge and we are not confident of getting back to the path. By this time the heifers have run up to the top of the  field and are staring aggressively across the fence.  

David then has a cunning plan: we will sneak back down the bank, then, occluded by the brow of the hill, scuttle as quickly as possible to the safety of the next stile before the heifers realise they have been foiled. This works a treat and we duly make our escape, though a passing dog walker tells us later that they may have been hungry and looking for food, and we feel a bit sorry for them.

Day now very warm as we make a triumphant entrance into Appleby, which has a bit of deserted Sunday afternoon feel. Rope in passerby to take photo, have tea and scone in cafe, then find footpath to our B&B, the Limes at Colby, about 30 minutes walk.

Sort out jumbled possessions  ready for the journey home tomorrow, then Penny kindly drives the pub at Bolton for dinner. Walk the two miles back to the Limes along deserted country lanes in the quiet evening, High Cup Nick clear to our left under a gathering storm.

Back in our room we are suddenly exhausted, though sleep interrupted by a small barn owl perched on a pole outside our window, calling at the top of its voice. Penny tells us the next day that it has been doing this for several evenings and is probably searching for a mate.

Day 8: Appleby - home

Excellent breakfast of croissants, ham and cheese at 9 am - what a treat to have a lie in. Penny and Alan give us a lift back to Appleby which means we we have time to spare before catching the train home. It feels very odd to be on concrete instead of turf and bog, and we seem to have forgotten how to cross the road.

The station is in a flurry of activity, a water tanker parked outside and a crowd of people brandishing their lens attachments. Get our own camera ready in time to catch the Union of South Africa steaming in on its way to Carlisle, complete with Pullman carriage - we couldn't have asked for a better ending to a first class walk.