Day five: Withins to Thornton-in-Craven, 13.75 miles

Our hopes of improved weather were dashed as we looked out of the door of the refuge. The sky was grey and glowering. At least staying in the hut meant we could pack dry gear. It wasn’t actually raining as we started, but it didn’t take long. As we walked down to Ponden Hall it began to rain.

Thus started the most miserable day of the whole journey. We trudged over Icornshaw Moor. At least in the morning, when it rains, you can hope that it will clear by the afternoon. However, it felt like one of those days when it will rain forever. We plodded through Icornshaw and navigated our way through fields and farm yards to Lothersdale.

We were concerned about going astray or being attacked by farm dogs on this stretch, but the rain kept the animals at bay and the navigation wasn’t too difficult. Somewhere along this stretch we must have had lunch. I can remember sitting behind a wall in a vain attempt to get out of the rain.

Lothersdale is supposed to be very pretty, but even the most beautiful village looks grim in the rain. By this time we were both soaked to the skin. The first iteration of GoreTex was nowhere near as breathable as current versions. The jacket also had seams that were sealed by rubber tape on which moisture condensed. I remember removing my thumbs from my rucksack straps and cascades of water exiting my sleeves. Neither were the “chaps” particularly effective and I was soaked around the crotch area.

All in all it was a really miserable day. The rain eased slightly as we reached Brown House Farm near Thornton-in-Craven. The farmer allowed us to pitch near the farm road. I peeled off my wet clothing. Fortunately the bin liners had kept the rest of my clothes and sleeping bag dry, although it was impossible in a small tent to prevent some of the damp transferring to formerly dry clothes.

After cooking dinner I got into my sleeping bag to try to find some warmth. I felt as though I was developing a cold. Robert wanted to go to the pub, but I was loathe to get out of my sleeping bag, so he went on his own. This was my lowest point. I felt like giving up. Why was I doing this? It wasn’t very enjoyable.

Day six: Thornton-in-Craven to Malham, 12.25 miles

Virtually everything was either wet or damp from the previous day’s deluge. However, we awoke to a fresh morning, some sunshine and a fresh blustery wind. Both the weather and the prospect of staying at Malham YHA to dry out lightened our spirits. We were also looking forward to the stages beyond Malham to get some real fell walking under our belts. Both us preferred the hills to farm yards.

The walk to Gargrave through fields was pleasant enough. We found the double arched bridge shown by Wainwright. I’m sure we must have re-supplied at Gargrave, but I think we had lunch somewhere along the River Aire. I remember the weather clouding over a bit at lunch time, making us a bit apprehensive about the prospects for the afternoon.

However, the weather was kind to us and cheered up as we followed the River Aire to Airton. As I remember it, the walk to Malham was very picturesque. After the rain of the past few days, the river was flowing fast and Aire Head springs were gushing.

This was a day to restore the spirits and remind ourselves of why we were doing this. A little bit of adversity improves the piquancy of enjoyment of backpacking. We reached the YHA hostel at tea time and booked in. It was a fairly modern hostel with good facilities and we did some washing and cleaning.

I’m fairly sure that we had a meal at the hostel and after our chores we went to the pub for a well earned pint or two. While it is wonderful sleeping in a tent, it does make you appreciate a bed and we slept soundly that night.

Day three: White Moss to Stoodley Pike, 15.25 miles

The weather cleared over night and we were presented with a bright morning with sunshine and some high clouds. Suitably cheered by the weather and fortified by breakfast, we resumed battle with White Moss and then Black Moss. We soon found the correct path and made good time to Standedge. I’m not sure why, but we didn’t investigate the café and crossed over to Millstone Edge. The walking here was much easier. After a quick look at the Ammon Wrigley monument we bowled along a t a good pace.

All the time the weather was improving. We had lunch somewhere around Redmires and lazed around in the sunshine for a while. After lunch, again we made good progress. We may have popped into the White House for a pint, but I can’t be sure. The paths along the reservoirs were easy compared to the peat bog bashing of the previous two days. As we motored along, the clouds began building again and we were dowsed by a couple of light showers before we reached Stoodley Pike.

At Stoodley Pike, we spotted a flat pitch near the spring. This seemed like an ideal place to stop, before reaching the enclosed valleys around Hebden Bridge. The nearby spring meant that we didn’t bother with the purifying tablets that gave everything a disgusting chlorine taste. It was surprising that so near habitation, we saw no-one else that evening.

Day four: Stoodley Pike to Withins, 11.25 miles

We were running out of food, so a re-supply stop at Hebden Bridge was needed to re-stock. After an early breakfast, we rushed down to the A646. Robert went into Hebden Bridge to get some food for the next leg, while I looked after the packs. After about an hour, he returned with our food. In all probability, one on the items would have been a tin of Tyne Brand Stew. We made it a habit to have some tinned food for the first evening meal of each leg, to give us a bit of ballast.

The next section was a pretty complicated route through various field and gates. I’m glad to say, we navigated it with few problems, but it was quite slow. I think we must have had lunch at Colden and I’m fairly sure we had a pint or two in a pub there. I seem to remember that the first part of the afternoon was a bit slow because of the refreshment.

As we reached the reservoir road, the clouds were building again and it was getting quite muggy. At the start of the climb to Withins, it began to rain. Withins is supposed to be the inspiration for Wuthering Heights. There’s a rather pompous plaque explaining this by the Bronte Society. More interesting for us was the shelter on the side of the house. We piled in out of the rain and decide we would stay there for the night.

The bench wasn’t the most comfortable place for a night’s sleep, but at least it was dry. It also meant not having to pack a wet tent. We had no rucksack covers and the rucksacks were definitely not water resistant let alone waterproof. We had to put all our gear in pedal bin liners. We had a supply of spares as they ripped easily. No waterproof roll top liners in those days! I seem to remember that it was a pretty grim night with lashing rain. We hoped it would be better in the morning.

Day one: Edale to Torside Clough, 12.5 miles

We woke to a drizzly day. The clouds were down over Kinder Scout. It didn’t look a very promising day. After some photos taken at the start, it was up Grindsbrook Clough. There was a mizzly rain and it certainly was a bit of a grind. The path wasn’t too bad, but from what I remember, you had to pick your way through the rocks near the top.

Reaching the plateau, we were greeted with the eerie sight peat grough on peat grough shrouded in swirling mist. Once we hit Crowden Brook we took a bearing to try to find Kinder Gates. As anyone knows who has been across Kinder, it’s hard, mucky work, especially drizzly rain. Amazingly, we suddenly saw Kinder Gates loom out of the gloom. Fortunately there wasn’t much run-off and we walked merrily along the sandy bottom of the River Kinder, which was much easier going than the peat.

On reaching Kinder Downfall, we had lunch. The weather had started to clear and we could see down to the reservoir. Suitably fortified and encouraged by a bit of sun, we made our way speedily along Kinder Edge. Progress slowed appreciably as we tackled the squelchy bog that is Featherbed Moss. Beyond Snake Road, Bleaklow didn’t seem quite as bad until we got beyond Devil’s Dyke.

It was here that we met a couple of lads with pots and pans hanging off their rucksacks, one of whom was wearing Wellington boots. They were aiming for Crowden, but the lad in the wellies, wasn’t in a very good condition. The clouds returned. Fortunately we could see our objective of Bleaklow Head and the Wain Stones.

By the time we reached Bleaklow Head it must have been early evening and we were really tired. As soon as the path improved at Torside Clough, the possibility of a pitch presented itself and we decided to call it a day. It was about 7 o’clock and it had been very tiring day.

Day two: Torside Clough to White Moss, 12 miles

We awoke to another cloudy day. It didn’t look very inviting. We descended to Crowden easily where we met the lads from yesterday, who were giving up. We fervently hoped that our adventure wouldn’t end prematurely. It brought home to me that this was going to be quite a serious undertaking.

As we started to ascend towards Laddow Rocks, it started to rain and the mist came down. The navigation wasn’t too difficult with a path and river to follow, but once we got to Grain Moss, we needed to follow a bearing to Black Hill. Fortunately there were breaks in the mist and we made it to Black Hill. The conditions underfoot deteriorated rapidly as we approached Black Hill and it really was an unpleasant morass of bare peat. I was glad not to be on my own with the danger of getting stuck in the peat.

I think we must have had lunch somewhere around Black Hill. As we made our way to the A635, the mist really came down and again we walked on a bearing. We hit the main road, but we couldn’t tell where exactly we were. So we just crossed over and hoped for the best. A mile or so from the road we decided that was enough. We had wandered slightly to the east of the main route into a confusing tangle of gullies.

As we found a bit of grass, we decided to pitch and wait for the morning to see exactly where we were. Later in the evening, the mist cleared a bit and we could see a glimpse of what we assumed was Wessenden or Wessenden reservoir. It had been another tiring day, tramping over peat bogs and drenched moorland. All in all, it was a bit demoralising.

I see that the Pennine Way has now been diverted to avoid the vicissitudes White Moss and Black Moss. In fact, from what I understand, much of the unpleasant boggy stretches are now paved over, so progress should be much easier than when we did it.

Thirty years ago I walked the Pennine Way with a friend, Robert. I thought readers might be interested and (hopefully) amused by some recollections. Time has dulled my memory, so I can’t guarantee the accuracy of everything. Fortunately, I have the original copy of the Wainwright Pennine Way Companion, complete with overnight stops, so the one thing I’m absolutely sure of is the start and finish of every day. Unfortunately the seventy odd slide pictures I took have been lost, so there is no picture accompaniment.

Prologue

The idea of walking the Pennine Way had been brewing for a while. Two years previously, I had walked (or more accurately wandered) for five weeks in the summer around the Lake District and down through the Yorkshire Dales to Settle. The following summer I was unable to do anything because of glandular fever. After this disappointment, I was determined to do a really good walk and the Pennine Way seemed like the natural thing to do.

I had walked a fair bit with Robert before, so he was a natural companion and overall it worked well. Both of us were at university and summer jobs provided us with the necessary funds for our adventure. One piece of luck was that a former school colleague had a complete set of maps covering the Pennine Way that Robert was able to purchase cheaply.

New gear was assembled. In my case, I had a new tent, a Saunders Backpacker S, a new rucksack, a Berghaus Centurion sack on a Loadstar frame (these were the final days of framed rucksacks). My sleeping bag was a Daimor down and feather bag, with a Berghaus closed cell foam mat to lie on. There were new boots, Zamberlan fully lined leather boots (no insoles, ouch!). I also had the first GoreTex jacket made by Mountain Equipment. My mother made me some waterproof “chaps” instead of overtrousers.

I had a pair of Fjallraven Greenland trousers, which were the forerunner of so many polycotton trousers, which I wore for practically the whole trip. I also had a pair of extremely uncomfortable woollen breeches, which were horribly itchy and I hardly wore. There was also the inevitable fibre pile jacket, North Cape, I think.

The rest of my clothes were non-specialist stuff garnered from my wardrobe such as jeans and cotton shirts. However, I did have a Damart base layer t-shirt, which was very useful as it wicked well but stank after a couple of days! Another piece of useful clothing I took was a thin Skiing jacket, which was nylon with thin thinsulate-type insulation, which was fantastically practical as a general hiking jacket.

Cooking system was a Primus petrol stove with Sigg bottle, cheap aluminium saucepan from the hardware shop and an aluminium mess kit. Food consisted of mainly Vesta meals, John West kippers in tins, Batchelor’s savoury rice, bread, cheese, Kendal mint cake and boiled sweets.

Day minus one

On the 5^thSeptember 1978, we travelled up to London on the train, thence on to Sheffield, changing to the local service to Edale. At Edale we pitched our tents at the camp site next to the National Park Information Centre. I can’t remember what we had for supper, but I’m sure we went to the pub! I guess we must have cooked our own meal. As students, we had to watch the pennies. I seem to remember the weather was cloudy, but it wasn’t actually raining.

In this month’s edition of TGO magazine, there’s an interesting article on the declining interest in walking the Pennine Way and that it may have some negative influence on the maintenance and funding. It ended on an optimistic note that there has been an increase in numbers over the past two years. Listening to Bob’s podcast with Gayle suggested that it was still popular compared to the other paths they walked. The Coast to Coast seems to be the most popular LDP, although I’ve not seen any statistics. I suspect this is partly due to the more manageable length to fit in with holiday times (i.e. two weeks rather than three).

I have particularly fond memories of the Pennine Way, which I walked almost thirty years ago exactly. We had quite indifferent weather for the first five days and almost quit after a day of solid rain. Fortunately, we didn’t and were blessed with good weather until the penultimate day, when it was rainy over the Cheviot, so we didn’t do the detour to the summit because it was too misty.

Here’s a few random memories from a wonderful experience. On the first day, we went up Grinds Brook and across the Kinder Scout plateau. I can remember the elation as we reached Kinder Gates after navigating on a bearing in thick mist. Later that day we met a couple of other youngsters, one of whom was walking the Way in Wellington boots. We bumped into them the following day to discover that the Welly wearer was giving up because he had a blister the size of an onion on his heel.

The most amusing incident was when my friend Robert, jumped off a small peat hag on Great Dun Fell and disappeared nearly up to his waist in a cunningly concealed pool. Later that day, we had bedded down in Greg’s Hut near Cross Fell. It was dark, the wind was whistling and rain beating on the window. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. No-one knocks on the door of a bothy, so we were a bit perplexed. We paused and Robert decided to investigate. On opening the door, he saw the back of a young boy heading up the track towards the Eden valley. Robert called after him and he retraced his steps and came inside. He had no waterproofs, was wet, no map or compass, no torch and next to no gear. He had decided on a whim to walk from Garrigill to Appleby, setting out after tea time. After making him a cup of tea, we wrapped him in one of our tents for a bit of warmth. If we hadn’t been there, he could have been lost in the dark and died of hypothermia. Lucky boy.

We had some wonderful wild camp sites. The very best was at Hull Pot near Pen y Ghent. Hull Pot is a spectacular pot hole, which is a huge collapsed cave. For a wilderness experience, our camp at Maize Beck took some beating.

The most welcome camp was at Merry Know, when after a long day, a farmer very kindly let us camp on one of his fields. That was the day that most of the skin on the back of my right heel fell off. Fortunately, the next day was quite cool, helping the skin to heal as there was no Compeed then.

Although it was a fantastic experience, the walk was really hard work. Our packs were much heavier than I carry now. My base weight was about 35lb and Robert’s must have been at least 45lb. My tent was a Saunder’s Backpacker S, which bears comparison with current tents, but Robert’s was a Lichfield Marachel which must have weighed well over 10lb. We both had frame rucksacks and most of our clothes were every-day stuff like jeans and cotton shirts. Our food was mainly Vesta meals, kippers, savoury rice, bread and cheese. Every so often we would treat ourselves to a can of stew.

I’ve just dug out my Wainwright Pennine Way Companion from the garage. Maybe I should go through it and write down what I can remember. All the days with mileage and overnight stops are neatly recorded in the back. Everything was a lot simpler then!

The guy that I started work with many years ago has just been made redundant. He’s been in continuous employment with the same firm through several acquisitions and changes of management for nearly thirty years, but they’ve finally bulleted him. Although he’s slightly older than me, it still comes as a shock. I’ve moved around a bit in my career. So far I’ve managed to avoid the black bin liner. I’m afraid the current credit crisis is going to have quite a few casualties, especially in the financial services world, where I work. Fortunately, the company I work for is doing OK (not well, but OK), so I’m hoping that we won’t have to go through downsizing. These are worrying times, as I’m getting to an age where finding a new job would be difficult. I think I need another trip to take my mind off this.

Thankfully, the vast majority of walkers follow the “leave no trace” ethos. It is heartening to see how little litter is left in the wild places. If you see some, it immediately jars the senses. The worst places are the car parks and the popular fells in the Lake District.

However, these pale in comparison to the sight that greets me every Sunday morning when I take the dog for a walk. The rubbish left by Saturday night revellers beggars belief. If I had my way, we would charge fast food outlets a litter tax to clear up the mess. In fact, donning my Mr. Angry hat, I would be in favour of getting rid of fast food outlets altogether. It’s not as though there aren’t litter bins available.

As a dog owner, I do not exempt other dog owners from this diatribe either. The amount of dog mess on the pavements is stomach churning. I always take a poop sack with me (usually two, just in case). There are dog bins available as well. If people have dogs, they should take responsibility for them.

It seems to me, that an extension of the “leave no trace” philosophy could be usefully extended to our streets and to society as whole.

I’ve been a bit quiet recently as there’s not been much going on. Unfortunately my walking plans have been a bit stymied by circumstances beyond my control, so I’ll just have to exercise a bit of patience. My MacBook was delivered last week. However, “my” MacBook soon became my daughter’s MacBook. I think I’ve lost it forever now! Most of yesterday evening and today has been spent sorting out security software and Boot Camp.

Boot Camp worked remarkably well but loading all the bits and pieces takes quite a lot of time. Unfortunately Parallels didn’t work properly as it kept asking me to re-register Windows, so I had to uninstall it. Anyway, Boot Camp operates well and I’ve now installed Office so my daughter can use it for school work.

Aside from being a computer engineer, I’ve been listening to Bob’s Cape Wrath podcasts and dreaming of Scotland. It sounds like a great trail with spectacular scenery. Perhaps the only downside is that there are not many paths and a little too much road walking to be perfect. I’m looking forward to the next installment. I hope Bob can do more trail podcasts. Maybe he can do some TGOC interviews as well.

The other thing I’ve enjoyed recently is looking at Roman’s account of his Via Alpina walk. Have a look at these photos.  Just breathtaking. I’ve also been following Martin and Sue’s Italian Border Route. This is where blogging is having a big impact. The ability to share trail experiences either on the hoof or soon after the event is very enjoyable, especially for those of us who are tied down for the moment.

Mick & Gayle have completed their Land’s End to John O’ Groats walk. Congratulations!!

There’s a new e-petition to sign to stop thousands of rights of way being lost forever. The full story is on grough. I can’t imagine that anyone can object to this one, so get over to the e-petition website and sign up now. This is a lot more urgent than the wild camping petition!!!!!