Howgills and Limestone Trail

22nd June: Kirkby Stephen – Ravenstonedale: 14km

It is always a good start when the trains work.  Given that I had two connections to get, I had included lots of contingency so it took over 5 hours from home to the finish.  I hadn’t travelled beyond Dent before, so the views up Mallerstang were wonderful, as were those earlier up Dent Dale, which was lush and green.  Jill was waiting at the station and dropped me by the market place in town, where she was going to have a short wander by the river.  I did something similar, following the Poetry Path, though the carved stones were so weathered it was hard to read anything.

John Waller Monument, Kirkby Stephen

After that I curved round Croglam Castle and joined the Coast to Coast Path, where there were a few people coming the other way.  I wasn’t on that route for long, heading towards Smardale Hall and the old railway line, the entrance to which was slightly harder to find than expected.  It was a cloudy day, warm but not overly so.  The track was shaded and lined with a great array of wildflowers: bloody cranesbill, common spotted orchids, buttercups, speedwell, yellow rattle.  There was a glimpse of the viaduct ahead but better than that was the dizzying view to the valley below from the viaduct itself.  With all this vegetation around, I was plagued the whole day with insects, particularly horseflies, who gave me over a dozen welts, even biting through my tee shirt.  It made me paranoid for the rest of the week.

Leaving Kirkby Stephen

Smardale Viaduct

View from Smardale Viaduct

I went wrong a few times in the fields towards Ravenstonedale before finally meeting Jill and getting a pint in the King’s Head.  From there we travelled to our accommodation in Sedbergh – a lovely cottage down a back alley – and then out for dinner at the Dalesman (pricey but very good).  We also met up for a drink or two with a bloke from work who lives in the town.  On the way back to the cottage a swift zoomed out from below the eaves of a building on the corner, passing within inches of our heads in the twilight.

Howgills in the distance

23rd June: Ravenstonedale – Sedbergh: 21km

My basement room was nice and cool, so I slept well.  Breakfast (and lunch) was from a takeaway shop called Number 46.  Jill dropped me back at Ravenstonedale and off I went.  The first turn off the road was a stumble between hurdles and over a collapsed wall.  It was a sign of things to come. After a little more road walking, the path headed into an overgrown bog then into an abandoned plant nursery, also overgrown and boggy.  On the far side, rather than follow the route, I took to a good track which was longer but far easier.  It was already too warm for thrashing around through that rubbish.

A path that isn't boggy

The route was supposed to go up Bowderdale before climbing at the head of the valley, however, given the warmth of the day and the prospect of a cooling breeze, I thought my better option would be to follow the Dales High Way up the ridge instead rather than stay in the valley’s shelter.  The gradient looked absolutely fine and I could take it nice and steady.  Higher up the ridge, the hills rose up around me. They looked magnificent.  Below me a silvery beck snaked up Langdale.  The further I went, the more it felt like the Scottish Highlands, if less high and less rocky.  It was that sense of isolation and remoteness.  And perhaps the bogginess.  I saw someone near Hazelgill Knott but was slightly off-path so passed at a distance.  The next person was at the Calf and then another was pushing his bike up the far side of Calders.  They were the only people I saw before Sedbergh.

Langdale

Arant Haw

The distant views were hazy in the heat but close-to was marvellous, with steep climbs from the valleys and ridgelines strung between the tops.  The breeze was keeping temperatures manageable too.  All good things come to an end and I descended the Dales High Way between Winder and Crook, a delightful valley, back into Sedbergh, running out of water just as I reached the houses.

Settlebeck Gill

That evening we ate in the Red Lion and had a few beers in the Half and Half, which I think was open particularly for the football (which we ignored).

24th June: Sedbergh – Casterton: 21km

Again I picked up breakfast and lunch at Number 46.  The walk began through the famous school and down to the River Rawthey, looking dramatically rocky.  I was feeling somewhat distracted, for  reasons outside this report, and ended up on the wrong path, meaning I did more climbing in the already warm air, and I struggled pathlessly back to the right line.  My motivation was rather low as I approached the start of the day’s proper climbing, the long flog up to Calf Top.  In the distance I could see huge, empty tops and wondered if the far one was my goal (it was).  There didn’t seem to be much wind around as I slowly plodded upwards, first on tarmac and then on ATV tracks.  These multiplied further up and I found myself again off-path.  After some grinding ascents over rough terrain, and a rest stop for food (with good views back to the Howgills), I eventually got back on path.  This was still a bit of a slog but at least there was some breeze.  Skylarks were soundtracking the day, as they had done the day before, and near the summit there were a lot of gulls.  I know they nest on top of the Bowland Fells, so perhaps they were nesting here too.

Looking back to Sedbergh

Calf Top

The summit had impressive, if hazy, views of the big lumps all around, less hunched up together than the Howgill Fells.  After another snack stop I began the descent, which inevitably included a disappointing amount of ascent.  The lower I got, the warmer it got, so I stopped to rest again on the attractively rocky top of Eskholme Pike above Barbon.  The route officially stops in the village but the pub wasn’t open until 5, so I pushed on across the fields to Casterton, where the Pheasant Inn was open.  Coming into the village I met the first person I had seen since leaving Sedbergh, a young woman who gave me a cheery greeting.  Shortly later she appeared behind the bar of the pub, so she was the also the fourth person I had seen (second being Jill and third being the other barmaid).

Eskholme Pike

We drove down to Settle where we were staying for the rest of the week at the King William IV guesthouse.  The hosts were very friendly and the rooms very good, though mine was extremely warm.  Luckily they had provided a mini-fridge for me to store water bottles.  Dinner was two doors down at the Talbot, after which we had a wander round some of the other pubs, the Golden Lion looking promising.

25th June: Ireby – Ingleton: 11km

I had a family meeting in Harrogate in the afternoon, so I couldn’t do my full route, instead just covering the last 10km (more on this in a second).  Jill dropped me off in the tiny village of Ireby and I headed out across the fields.  When I reached Masongill and went to have a drink of water, I found my one bottle absent.  I must have dropped it back on the path, so I had to backtrack – apart from the litter, I couldn’t continue in the heat without water.  Eventually I found it at the place I sort of expected: below a stone step stile over a stone wall with a narrow gap and a viciously-sprung gate at the top.  I must have caught the bottle on a step and knocked it out of the pocket.  This added another kilometre and a load of bother.

Tow Scar

The road climbed steadily before becoming a track and then a trod across the bouldery and attractive top of Tow Scar, with views to the patchwork farmland of Lonsdale.  From there I headed towards Thornton Force where the path quality improved, but the busyness increased too.  A group of schoolgirls in hijabs and long sleeves were slogging up the valley, each of them holding a portable electric fan. ‘There’s an ice cream van at the top,’ I said.  ‘We’ve got no money,’ one moaned.  Oh well.  The waterfall itself was impressive, wider and higher than I had expected, and set in a bowl of refulgent greenery.  There were quite a lot of people around, picnicking or bathing, so I didn’t hang around, instead climbing out of the valley towards Thornton Hall.  The waymarkers here didn’t seem right so I set off across a field before checking my GPS and finding they had been right after all.  In getting back on track I almost stood on a partridge nesting in the long grass.  It eyed me warily and I moved quickly on before I disturbed it (though I still regret not taking a picture).

Thornton Force

After the trip to Harrogate was concluded, we ate a good dinner in the Golden Lion, checked out the Royal Oak (not much good) and had a last one at our ‘local’, the Talbot.

26th June: Ingleton – Settle: 24km

There was some rain overnight which left the morning initially feeling quite fresh.  It wouldn’t last. Before breakfast I popped out for a sandwich at the Dales Deli.  The proprietress apologised that her main fridge had packed in because of the previous day’s heat, but she made me a very tasty ham butty all the same.  Jill dropped me early back at Ingleton before returning to take the train to Carlisle.  My route was up Ingleborough via a route I had not done before.  It started climbing immediately, first on tarmac and then on a track.  It was already blisteringly hot and the high stone walls by the track effectively blocked any breeze.  Ingleborough’s square top loomed up ahead of me, looking steep.  I passed one woman coming down, wreathed in sweat, and another on her way up, seemingly coming to a standstill.  I was surprised to find a farm, Crina Bottom, high up on the hillside, looking rather idyllic.

Climbing out of Ingleton

Crina Bottom and Ingleborough

Towards the top there were a couple of steep, stepped sections which had me walking at a crawl and puffing like a knackered engine (it took me about 20mins to do the last 100m of ascent).  It was a relief to reach the wide open space of the summit.  A lad taking pictures passed a word and then made his way down, making me the sole possessor of the entire plateau.  Unprecedented!  To make the most of my efforts I had a good wander round, a stop at the shelter for food (sitting in the windiest seat I could find, contrary to normal practice), and took some pictures out to Ribblehead before finally deciding I should push on.

View from Ingleborough

From there I headed to Sulber and them Moughton Scars above Crummack Dale, again somewhere new to me.  It was beautiful: the limestone pavements, the cliffs and crags, the tumbled boulders. Lovely stuff.  The paths were a little sketchy though as I wound my way towards the trig point, hopping from faint trod to faint trod across limestone blocks and past twisted juniper trees.  All very nice to look at but punishing to walk over in the heat of the day.  I found my way pathlessly to Moughton Nab where a narrow, steep path took me round the great scar of Dry Rigg Quarry.

Beggar's Stile, Crummack Dale

Moughton Scars

Juniper

The day was feeling long so I stopped to gasp for breath and eat a snack.  The next section was a long one on tarmac.  The tar-blistered roads reflected the heat back.  Passing cars popped the bubbles on the surface.  Up the road rose, endlessly.  When it finally dipped and turned towards Stainforth, I felt much relief.  This was short-lived as I heard music blasting out.  By the river path, a number of cars were parked on double-yellow lines.  By Stainforth Force itself were big crowds of people: family groups, young people sunning themselves or swimming, and one group with a huge speaker stack, the source of the music.  I didn’t stop to look at the falls, just heading immediately away.  It isn’t my way to enjoy the countryside.

Moughton Nab

 Along the river path I could hear rolls of thunder and see dark clouds massing to the south-east.  I had a mission to get to Settle before it all kicked off.  It was a mission that did not succeed.  About 20 minutes out of town the rain began, cranking it up to 11.  It was possibly the heaviest rain I have ever walked in.  At times I was checking it wasn’t hail.  Sheltering beneath trees, as the sheep were doing, didn’t seem to help so I just pushed on.  I was soaked through by the time it relented, which was just as I entered the town.  Dripping wet, I walked into the Lion and sat on a mat to prevent the seat from getting wet while I had my pint.  We returned later for dinner and finished the evening listening to music at the Talbot.  A difficult week done.