Day 9 was the longest day on our trip, at a shade under 24 miles, and saw us head through the Vale of Mowbray from Richmond to Ingleby Arncliffe. It is also characterised as being the only flat day on the whole trip. And flat it pretty much was.
The day was also very notable for two other things – one the heat, and the second midges and thunderflies. The day was really hot at about 26 degrees, which when you are walking 24 miles really takes its toll. And the midges and other little biting insects in the middle of the day around the Danby Wiske area absolutely drove you (well me anyway!) completely nuts. Mel afterwards told me that it was about as freaked out as she’d ever seen me. And I think she was right, I was completely driven to distraction by them, and couldn’t even sit down to eat my lunch because of them.
We had set out from the very quirky and very old Williance House in Richmond at about 8am after a lovely cooked breakfast. I’ve been fairly good this trip (Mel has been better) at not having a fry up, but sometimes you just need one.
Leaving behind Richmond Castle, the view here from the river Swale.Oooohh I love a good signpost me!
We passed some lovely villages en route, still following the Swale river as we had been doing for a few days now. Bolton on Swale in particular was very pretty, with a very lovely church. And overall, despite the distance, it never felt like a massive walk, the terrain helping hugely with that.
The pretty church at Bolton on Swale – the official walk goes right through the churchyard.
Around half way to Ingleby Arncliffe is a small hamlet called Danby Wiske, which has a pub and is a usual stop off point for coast to coasters. This year however, due to Covid, it is closed, and so that has meant on a 24 mile day you have no means of getting water or other provisions en route. We were asked however by someone stepping out of their house if we’d like a water refill, which was rather nice of them. We politely passed up on the offer and stopped just outside to eat our packed lunch, Mel sat down relaxed, and me dancing like a demented muppet up and down the road waving my arms in the air to try in vain to waft away biting insects.
Who the hell is Frank??sometimes you just have to find shade where you can!
Much of the afternoon’s hike was just a hot slog, but in really beautiful surroundings. It just goes to show that things don’t need to be hilly to be beautiful!
One of the highlights of the afternoon was a well stocked fridge in a field with an honesty box!
At nearly the end of the walk however, an almost crazy thing happened. I knew that Ingleby Arncliffe was just the other side of the A19 from where we were. And for those who don’t know it, the A19 is a big, almost motorway sized behemoth of a road linking Yorkshire to Middlesbrough and the North East. It’s a road where traffic is going at 80mph all day long. We approached it at about 5pm to find, guess what? No bridge! (Or underpass or anything). We basically had to play chicken with 80mph traffic to get across to the village – great!
Having survived to write this blog, we duly arrived at the very lovely Ingleby House Farm, after a quick snifter in the local pub, The Blue Bell. It had taken us forever to actually book The Blue Bell for dinner the night before, but I won’t go into that here, it would take all night. Suffice to say its a great pub if you are ever passing this way. They also serve the local delicacy, chicken parmo, which if you aren’t from the Middlesbrough area you will neither know about or even understand. I’ll only say that there is a very good reason why it hasn’t transcended from the Middlesbrough area, and that also explains why half of mine didn’t get finished.
Chicken Parmo – ‘don’t’ would be my advice!
Tomorrow would see a moderate stage in terms of length, but lots of ups and downs as we entered for the first time the North York Moors. I’d cycled through these a few years ago and knew they’d be pretty lumpy and very interesting. It would also turn out to be the best day in terms of walking alone of the whole walk – bring on The Wainstones!…….
Day 8 saw us leave the very lovely Reeth and head to Richmond. Reeth had been lovely, it is such a perfect setting and it definitely needs another visit when there is time to explore and do it justice. It just captivated me from the moment of arrival and had something very magical about it.
Certainly one thing we’ve noticed on this trip is that (particularly doing it in 12 days) there just isn’t time for anything other than getting from place A to place B, eating and sleeping! By the time you have also of course packed and re-packed and tended to topping up water, supplies, arranged packed lunches and the like too. As an example of how margins are tight, when we were in Grasmere on the way through to Patterdale there wasn’t time for me to stop at Sarah Nelson’s Gingerbread Shop, and that is nothing short of sacrilege!
Setting out from Reeth – low cloud hanging in the hills and a cooler morning for us.Reeth was part of the hugely successful Yorkshire stages of the 2014 Tour de France, the riders passing through the town itself.
This day was however a shorter day (and in fact the shortest distance wise of the whole trip at just 10 miles) and so we afforded ourselves a slightly later breakfast at 8am and a later start. You still however have to get up and pack all of your bags by then ready to be collected by the Sherpa Van service, and so there’s still a lot of early morning faffing going on!
Setting out from Reeth we continued to follow the River Swale as we had done for the last few days, and headed along the river on a lovely (if slightly cool still) morning. There were no real hills for us to climb today, just undulating ups and downs each side of the Swale valley.
Today’s vlog attempt – the one from yesterday failed to load 😦 I should edit these things really but I don’t know how!!
We passed a couple of lovely villages en route, one called Marrick, where there was a little old priory, and as total of 375 (no I didn’t count them!) steps to the village above through some lovely woods.
The steps up through the woods to Marrick – apparently put down by nuns a long time ago.
Then we also passed through Marske, where it looked like everyone had cut their lawns and hedges with nail scissors, this despite the remoteness and what must be bleakness of the place out of season. These villages have no amenities, like a shop for instance, but are just idyllic. And if I lived there I don’t think I’d ever want to leave.
Passing through Marske – a lovely place.And finally the edge of Richmond coms into view.
Finally we reached the town of Richmond, a large and lovely place of around 8,000 people, with a big castle, and quite a few almost ‘high street’ shops. It felt weird, as we’d walked for a week without seeing anyone at all, quite literally on some days, and then getting into Richmond it felt like walking into New York City!
Also arriving early we thought we’d best stop for a drink before getting to the B&B, but discovered that Richmond isn’t blessed with great pubs, which was a shame. We also tried in vain to try to get a restaurant. Thinking the day before that it was a big place and that we wouldn’t struggle, but we did big time, although eventually found a very good Indian, called Amontola if I remember correctly.
I never drink lager normally but you just wouldn’t have touched the bitter in this pub believe me!
We stayed at a little place called Willance House – a 17th century building which was very quaint (in a good way!). We opted before retiring for the earliest breakfast slot we could get, as the following day was going to be the longest day of the trip, a 24 mile slog to Ingleby Cross, which would take us through the Vale of Mowbray to the edge of the North York Moors. I couldn’t wait :).
Day 7 of the C2C saw us begin the second half of the overall walk, quite literally, as we had just reached the half way point (mile 96) last night. After also some excellent beef stew and sponge pudding last night we were set up for another full on day, even if this one would be the shortest so far in terms of distance covered. In fact it would be just 12 miles that took us to Reeth, also in the Swaledale valley.
Leaving behind Keld Lodge and heading down into Keld itself…..…..which is basically a hamlet, but a very lovely one at that.The start of the Swale River, which we would follow for the next three days (and indeed had done yesterday too).Looking down at the Swale from the start of our high route.
Swaledale is one of the smaller, and I think the most northerly of the main dales (valleys). It runs east to west and is punctuated by much limestone and of course many many sheep. It is the first time either of us have been here and it is an absolute delight. The end of the day in fact was to reveal for me what I think is the highlight of the trip so far in the shape of Reeth.
The journey to Reeth can be taken by either a high route or a low route. The low route passes many pretty Swaledale villages like Muker, but we were told at the Lodge that it would be very busy with tourists, so we avoided it and took the high route. This route takes in two climbs up to around 2,000 feet, but is generally it has to be said not very scenic in the main, although it has many redeeming features.
The walk across the top of the Dales at around 2,000 feet up is a bit featureless….……but then dips into very attractive ruins of old lead mining plants.
The area round here was in bygone times the capital of the lead-mining world, and used to apparently produce over half of the world’s lead. We saw much evidence of old lead mines along the route, including smelting chimneys and some old machinery from the mines. The two climbs weren’t difficult, but took their toll on tired legs, and we had a fair old headwind at times too. The weather was also a bit cool at times – while the rest of the country is apparently basking in a heatwave at around 35 degrees, we had around 16 or 17 degrees, and my fleece stayed on for most of the day.
Starting on the descent now towards Reeth.Another lead smelting relic.Nearly in Reeth now, a lovely day and a really great walk for any day out.
We got into Reeth early at around 3pm. Reeth Apparently hails itself as the capital of Swaledale, and was formerly the mainstay of the lead mining industry. You wouldn’t know that today though – it is a very pretty natural amphitheatre with a large green in the middle and surrounded by the local hills. Apparently the old TV show All Creatures Great and Small was filed here. We both loved it. It has the feel of being very welcoming, and it very much is exactly that.
Wee stopped in for a beer at the Kings Arms Hotel, where we had also booked for dinner. A good place and very much recommended, even if the sticky toffee pudding was a bit weird and covered in wayyyyyyy too much custard, but there’s a first world problem if ever there was one!
The green at Reeth…..…….and the very lovely Ivy Cottage at one end of it.
Our accommodation, Ivy Cottage, also serves as a tea room. The hosts were (as everyone has been on this trip) extremely welcoming, and the room had a view of the green and the surroundings and a lovely little window seat where you could have sat for hours. It was a fantastic spot, and I would love to revisit. The breakfast and indeed everything about it was perfect. In fact we both agreed afterwards when ranking (as you do) all 13 B&Bs that we stayed in on this trip, that this was number one. That’ll be a 5 star Tripadvisor rating from me then 🙂
So 108 or so miles done now, and tomorrow would see us again head along the Swale Valley to Richmond, the largest town on the C2C, for another fairly short day. The weather was again set fair, and we looked forward to all that Richmond would bring.
Day six of the C2C for us was Kirkby Stephen to Keld in the Yorkshire Dales. Although a short day (at around 13 miles) in terms of mileage, the day starts with a five mile upward slog to over 2,000 feet to the top of Nine Standards Rigg.
Nine Standards Rigg is the summit of Hartley Fell, at 2,172 feet. It is almost on the border of Cumbria and Yorkshire, and sits at a very significant point in The Pennines from where all water landing to the east runs to the North Sea, and all to the west to the Irish Sea. The Nine Standards themselves are a set of large cairns of various shapes which sit in a row right on top of the fell. They can be seen for miles, and we could even see them from our room in Kirkby Stephen.
Setting off from the town go Kirkby Stephen, the local church in the background.
We had a stunning day for it, the best so far, and it was hot even as we left the town. Kirkby Stephen is a lovely village and I decided I’d love to return one day. We had a lovely Indian meal the previous evening and would have liked to have spent more time wandering around.
About to cross the river and set off for Nine Standards Rigg – a beautiful day.
It was a hot climb from the off, but bearable, and actually really enjoyable. We saw very few people, and one family of what the lady in the B&B described as ‘the flip flop brigade’. They were playing very loud music, something I can’t stand when out on the fells, and so we walked past and away as quickly as we could. Call me a snob if you want!
My vlog entry for the day 🙂
One of the other things that characterises Nine Standards Rigg (apart from the stones themselves) is the peat bogs. They are pretty big and pretty serious, and also pretty seriously eroded. Being such a popular walk, the path gets so eroded on the way up that it has been split into three different routes depending upon the time of year and the conditions. The red is apparently the most revered, and the green the easiest and safest in poor conditions, but we were directed to the blue by the signs and so stuck with that. I’m very much a conformist when it comes to National Parks and their regulations.
Approaching the top of Hartley Fell, with the Nine Standards clearly visible.On the very top of the Pennines!The trig point from which all water flows west or east in England.
The views from the top were great, and we soon made our way to the quite memorable trig point pictured below.
The views and waypoints on a clear day (which we had) were all marked out in detail here.
The route from here had partly been covered in flagstones which briefly lulled us into a false sense of security as I’d read in Henry Steadman’s fabulous book on the C2C about how bad the bogs would be. But then they ended, abruptly. We then spent the next almost three hours tracking and backtracking, squelching and jumping over bogs, some twenty yards or more across. If you’d just walked in a straight line along the path you’d have ended up either up to your waist or without your boots in the mire in places. It was almost comical. Having both of us suffered blisters from wet feet in the Lakes we were keen to try to avoid the same fate, and so did our best to stay as dry as we could. We sort of managed this, but it was tricky.
the flagstone section before the bogs took over!We took the blue route, but I think most of them are pretty similar in length and difficulty – it is all about managing the erosion.The peat bogs stretch on for what seems like forever – at least we could see where we were going!
Thankfully the path eventually emerged to run higher along the river along more farm like tracks, and whilst still wet and squelchy, were manageable. Eventually after what was approaching 7 hours, a crazy amount of time for a 13 mile walk, we reached the tiny hamlet of Keld. Keld has about 4 houses, two campsites, and a lodge/hotel, where we stayed, the Keld Lodge. The Lodge used to be a youth hostel, and still feels a bit like that, but the hospitality (and I have to say the food) that we had was second to none. It also had a great drying room, very useful when you’ve just tracked for hours through wet peat bogs. Oh they also served the best pint of Black Sheep bitter I’ve ever had.
The main thing to note about Keld though, is the fact that it lies exactly at the half way point of the C2C walk. It is 96 miles in each direction to the sea, and the commemorative photo above will be something for the long term scrapbook that’s for sure.
So here we were, 6 days down, and exactly half way. 92 miles to the North Sea, and tomorrow would take us through lead mining country, see Cow ‘Usses’, and go through the very beautiful Swaledale to the even more beautiful Reeth. The Coast to Coast was delivering everything we thought it would and more :).
Day 5 was our longest day yet, a 21 mile stretch from Shap to Kirkby Stephen.
Although not huge in terms of altitude gains, we’d had three really tough days before this, culminating in yesterday’s 18 mile, 3,500 feet day over Kidsty Pike to Shap. Mel got really tired at the end of yesterday and when you have a longer day ahead you just want to make sure that it goes to plan. Managing time therefore became a concern for me, and I didn’t want us to end up trudging into Kirkby Stephen really late, and after all the rain we’d had I had no idea how the ground conditions would affect us today, even if it was a much flatter day than before.
Today we also left the forever memorable Brookfield B&B behind too. Run by a lady named Margaret, very much in the old-fashioned style, it was a veritable home from home. Despite the fact that we were probably in the B&B for only about an hour in waking terms, Margaret couldn’t do enough for us, including all of our dirty laundry. She also completely dried out Mel’s very wet boots which looked almost beyond rescue post Lake District soakings. We actually hypothesised that she was up all night with a hairdryer on them, and hopefully that isn’t true.
Brookfield House in Shap. A treasure.
I must finally mention Margaret’s packed lunch. We’d had a packed lunch every day from wherever we stayed, as simply there isn’t anywhere en route to buy anything at all. The lunch we got from Margaret, as well as doorstep sandwiches and crisps, contained an apple, a banana, a bottle of lucozade, some buttered tea loaf, cheese, an almond tart, and a chunky piece of the best fruit cake I have ever had the privilege to eat. In fact it might be the best example of anything I’ve eaten ever. Margaret gets a mention in the C2C books as being a bit of a star, but that undersells her. I’ll remember her, and the visit there until I die, it’s as simple as that.
The walk from Shap climbs straight out of the long town over fields to a footbridge over the M6 Motorway. From here on, you definitely know you’ve left the Lake District well behind, even if you haven’t quite left Cumbria yet. The landscape changes dramatically to be much more rolling and overall gentle, and even if the the ups and downs don’t stop, they come at you less severely and less frequently too.
The (only) way you (can) cross the M6 as you leave Shap!No idea why I have a photo of the M6 from the bridge, but I do!And leaving Shap behind you are not left with the best of views……
The walk to Kirkby Stephen is effectively split into two, with a neat and well positioned stop at Orton after about 8 miles. Some people make Orton a stop for the night too. It is a pretty little village, and it earns a stop for most people (including us) because of Kennedy’s chocolate factory and shop. Although tiny, the place has some very famous and very delicious chocolate, and we duly obliged with some of their delicacies. I wished we could have picked up more, but I made a mental note to check if I can get some more online at a later date.
The start of the heathery moors which would dominate eventually most of the second half of the c2C.Strange coloured sheep they have around these parts – maybe that plant was a nuclear one? :OKennedy’s Chocolate Factory in Orton – delicious stuff!
From Orton the walk continues over heather and part forested moorland and it is a really lovely walk. It was nice too to have another sunny (mainly, although it did start to rain lightly part way through the afternoon, reminding us that we were still in Cumbria) day after the horrors of the Lakes.
Bridge over Scandale Beck towards Kirkby Stephen, a lovely spot. Smardale Viaduct towards Kirkby Stephen.
Approaching Kirkby you come down a fairly steep hill and through an old railway tunnel until you finally hit the town. Our B&B, Lockholme, presented us with a somewhat over-protective host who demanded that Mel took off not just her boots but also her trousers before he would let her in the house! He did give her a towel to wrap around herself so she could get upstairs with a modicum of dignity intact, but that is surely well over the top. Sure there was a bit of dried mud on the bottom of them, but why run a B&B for mainly Coast to Coasters if you can’t cope with a bit of grime on people’s clothes?
Oh and another thing – they refused to give us a room key for our bedroom when we went out in the evening, saying that ‘people run off with them’. I do understand the concern of course, but why even have them then? They were lovely in other ways and very friendly it has to be said, and there were some lovely touches like giving me some jelly babies the next morning for the climb to Nine Standards Rigg. But live and let live I say, especially when it is your livelihood.
I’ll say one more thing, and then I’ll shut up…….it really bugs me when people plead for Tripadvisor reviews, and especially when they say “please say nice things about us as we know where you live”, even if it is in jest. I actually write quite a few Tripadvisor reviews, and the jury is more than out as to whether I’ll actually do so here, but maybe a ‘constructive’ critique is in order.
Finishing off then, we had a really lovely curry in town that evening. I actually walked down there in my bare feet as I had two whopping blisters from my wet boots two days ago, and my flip flops really aren’t good for walking long distance in (it was about a mile and a half return), The Indian restaurant, The Mango Tree, was great, and deserves, and didn’t ask for, so will get, a Tripadvisor review. Give them a shout if you’re in Kirkby Stephen, which is a lovely little town with what looks like some nice pubs too.
This was on the wall of our B&B.
So 21 miles done, and 89 in total now for 5 days. The following day would see us go over the Pennines to Nine Standards Rigg and into the Yorkshire Dales, hit many a bog, and see the start of the very beautiful River Swale. It would be a great and very memorable day, as indeed every day of this trip was….
We woke at the very lovely Old Water View in Patterdale to something we hadn’t seen for a few days – the sun! Patterdale is such a lovely setting, and like most places in the Lakes and elsewhere, a bit of sun certainly magnifies its beauty.
We set out just before 9 on our trip to Shap which would see us sadly leave the Lake District behind, but on the way we would reach the highest point of the whole Coast to Coast, that of Kidsty Pike. And it was a stunning day. That was a good thing as I had tied my still wet boots onto the back of my rucksack (I’d brought a spare pair with me for this very reason) and they got to air well and get dry before the day was out.
The day started with a fairly steep climb up Place Fell, and it was a majestic walk.
About to leave Patterdale with a distinct lack of rain in the air!The view back towards Patterdale and towards Helvellyn with the southern shores of Ullswater on the right – a truly beautiful place.Looking up towards Brotherswater from the side of Place Fell and looking towards Sheffield Pike.
The views back over to Patterdale and the Lake and Helvellyn were mesmerising. I didn’t want to leave. Just as they were looking up to Brotherswater and Sheffield Pike too. We even saw other people (!) – something that the miserable rain and wind of the last few days had been bereft of.
Angle Tarn, which is a popular wild camping spot on the C2C for those hardier souls than ourselves.
We passed Angle Tarn after about 45 minutes and then onto Kidsty Pike after two hours or so. Kidsty Pike is officially the highest point on the C2C at around 2,600 feet, and the views are wonderful in every direction. It was the first time I’d seen Haweswater too, which would be our focus for the next several hours as we were to do a steep descent towards it and then a long undulating walk along its whole length.
I did a short daily video every day, intending it for YouTube – this was today’s brief offering.Nearing the top of Kidsty Pike…..And made it – the view down to Haweswater ahead.I made it too!
Haweswater is a man made reservoir, having originally been a smaller lake, and today serves about 25% of the North West of England’s water supply. Although only 4 miles long it never seems short of water due to where it is, although there is apparently a sunken village (Mardale) somewhere in its depths which every few barren years a few people get a rare glimpse of. The trek around we thought would be flat, but it turned out to be very undulating and pretty wet in parts too from yesterday’s rain. It’s a very pretty spot though.
The start of the walk around Haweswater.
As Haweswater ends the Lake District is behind us, and almost immediately the landscape changes to be much flatter and more agricultural, but still very much rolling. Shap would be about 6 or 7 miles further on, and just before we got there we reached the very lovely ruins of Shap Abbey. Shap Abbey is a 12th century monastic house on the edge of the river Lowther in the Eden Valley, and very nice it looked. On another day we’d have stopped for a proper look, but we were by now 17 miles in and ready to get finished for the day, so on we went.
Shap Abbey, or what is left of it.
Leaving the valley we headed to Shap itself. Shap definitely (and apologies to anyone from Shap who is reading this) has none of the charm that the Lakes has, and I’m being kind. It also only has three places to eat, and two of them were closed due to Covid. The third, The Crown, was ‘fine’, and actually did the job. It will win neither a Michelin star nor a 5 star rating on Tripadvisor, but it served us very well after a 19 mile walk that’s for sure. The folk who run it are super friendly and so do stop in if you are passing – the outside isn’t too inviting (and actually neither is the inside come to think of it), but we left very content and that’s all you want.
The highlight of the day turned out to be (apart from those views of Patterdale naturally!) the B&B we stayed in – Brookfield House, of which more tomorrow. Suffice to say it is ‘old school’, and run by surely the best B&B host in B&B history, Margaret. We got all of our dirty clothes washed and folded, and nothing was too much trouble for her. A veritable oasis in an otherwise unpretty little town. I’ll remember it forever, so good was Margaret’s fruit cake!
So after another 3,400 feet of ascent and 18 miles, we’d done 68 miles in four days. Tomorrow would see us do 21 more, and leave Cumbria behind and enter the fringes of the Yorkshire Dales. Bring them on, that’s what I say………:)
You know when you wake up and look out the window and just think “ugh”? This was one of those days.
Regardless, today was always going to be a really big day. It was one of those earmarked as being big as it was 19 miles in distance, but also because it involved (or should have done) going past, or up, Helvellyn on our way to Patterdale. Those who know me know that I have been up Helvellyn more than any other mountain (maybe Pen y Fan excepted), and that I also love it with a passion. So walking past it, even after about 16 of 19 miles was going to be tough. And we are doing the Coast to Coast, so you can’t just walk past Helvellyn and not go up can you? It’s like going into town and walking past your favourite pub when you are going for a drink – it doesn’t happen in my world!
Waking up as we did in the Glaramara Hotel in Seatoller though, I knew however that the day was going to be ridiculously tough to even reach Patterdale at all. The weather was unrelenting since yesterday. Worse in fact if anything. The rain beat upon the windows and the wind was howling. The forecast (and it proved to be right) said it wouldn’t stop all day, and that the rain would get heavier. And we were in the rainiest part of the whole country, with many a hill to get over before we even got close to Helvellyn, which would come at about mile 15 or so.
We even skipped breakfast in the hope that we would get the day completed, and grabbing our things from the drying room of the Glaramara (the stuff we had left there was still damp at best, it wasn’t a good drying room), we set out at around 7:30am.
After an hour or less, despite being well protected, most things were wet already. Rain at this velocity just finds its way in eventually. What was worse though was the wind. We’d (or I’d, mainly courtesy of the Macs Adventures app) selected a route up a pass that I hadn’t been up before (Greenup Edge, via Lining Crag).
The main trouble however wasn’t what what coming down from the sky. It was what was coming along the ground by way of streams and running water. The paths themselves were like streams. The streams themselves were simply in torrents. Where there had been stepping stones they were covered, and not just covered but totally submerged with very fast flowing water over them. Fast enough to sweep you off your feet for sure. Mel was scared, and I was scared for her. It’s one thing to get wet feet. It’s altogether a different thing to get knocked over and hurt yourself. I know she was worried for me too – it was after all only three weeks ago that I was in hospital with a bleed on the brain following a crash on my bike.
This probably gives you a good idea of the paths that we were walking on, but not of the streams we had to cross, they were much worse!The one bright spot on the way up to Greenup Edge – a rainbow!Now what happened to those stepping stones again? Still smiling, near the top of Lining Crag.
We passed about 7 or 8 of these fast flowing streams on the way up to Lining Crag and Greenup Edge, and negotiated most of them with just wet feet. The climb itself wasn’t too bad in the end. Coming down the other side to Grasmere however the fun started. At one fast flowing stream, it was very apparent that the water was moving so fast that it could be dangerous. And worse we couldn’t really even see the bottom of the stream so we didn’t even know how far we’d get into and thus how hard to would be to wade through – it was probably about 10 feet wide too.
I looked up and down stream in vain for possible other crossing points. All however were more perilous, and after about half an hour of looking, Mel decided that she didn’t want to try, so I had to respect her wish. There was no way round, and so we had to backtrack. I looked on the map and saw that we could retrace our steps for about an hour, and then take another route over higher ground to Grasmere, which would hopefully see us safe. I was worried already about time though, and figured that this was probably a two hour diversion at best on a day when we would already be out for 11 or so hours.
So back up towards Greenup Edge we went, it was the only thing to do. Just then, after about 5 minutes of going back, something strange happened, in that someone was coming down towards us! This was strange in that we had not since we left Borrowdale (some probably 3 and half hours earlier) seen a single soul anywhere. It was a guy on his own, and although he was soaked through, he clearly wasn’t going to let a fast flowing stream (I told him about it to warn him) put him off. He also showed us that inside what seemed to be a strangely bulging jacket that he had a small dog in there in a baby sling! The poor thing was shaking, cold and wet, and presumably he wanted to get her down too.
This turned out to be the inspiration that Mel needed. She asked him if he would mind helping her across, and he said he’d be very happy to, so we retraced our steps back down again. Upon getting into the water, he stood there in the fast flowing waters and took Mel’s hand as she waded through and got her safely to the other side, despite getting in to above his calves. He did the same for me too, before getting out and then almost dancing down the path towards Grasmere.
We talked afterwards about how this was clearly ‘meant to be’, given that we saw apart from him actually only one other person on the path after that the whole day. He was there at just the right time. It also made all of our progress after that much easier. Once you have wet feet then they are wet, and although I did actually wring my socks out, that was a bit pointless as everything was soaked up to my knees anyway and would stay so for the rest of the day, and this was about 11am.
We then made reasonable progress into Grasmere which we got to at about 2pm, and got some lunch from a shop there. We would have missed out Grasmere but had no packed lunch and had intended to come here anyway. We also tried to get some Grasmere Gingerbread (if Helvellyn is my favourite mountain then Grasmere Gingerbread is undoubtedly my favourite food substance) but there was a big queue at the shop, and very conscious (as I always am) of time, I decided we shouldn’t wait. We did after all have another 9 or more miles to get through in the rain, and had to ascend up to Grizedale Tarn, even if Helvellyn was definitely way way out of reach for this trip by now, as was any other side turning or distraction.
This was the view at Grizedale Tarn – not even sure why I got my phone out really!
The walk up to Grizedale Tarn thankfully passed without further incident, although we did have a further few streams to dip our soggy feet and boots into. In fact we even had to wade through the tarn itself to get across to the path down Grizedale valley. Having been there a lot of times before I’ve never seen it like that, but at least it didn’t pose any danger.
So down we went, heads down, straight down the Grizedale Valley. No Helvellyn and no St Sunday Crag (that was my alternative for the day origninally). There was no point as it was too wet and too windy, and we didn’t have time by then anyway. We eventually got into Patterdale just before 7pm, with feet as wet as wet can be, but good and safe in the end.
We found a great drying room too at our lovely B&B, The Old Water View, which was in a great location and on another day would have been an idyllic place to stay. As it was we were glad to put stuff on radiators and turn them up, and head straight out the local pub (The White Lion). Thankfully, despite a short wait outside in the rain (we couldn’t book in there as they weren’t taking bookings, and there is no other pub in Patterdale so that was it)
It has to be said that The White Lion does a fantastic Cumberland Sausage, and also (as Mel will attest) a damn good chilli, and we were very grateful of the food and the beer (Wainwright’s, what else?) after a really tough day. We’d done nearly 4,000 feet of ascent, and 19 miles of walking, in horrendous conditions. The forecast for tomorrow wasn’t for rain! That would be a very pleasant and welcome surprise and we’d at least get to see some (and some might say the best) of the Lakes before we actually left it. Tomorrow is after all, always another day :).
Starting from the very lovely Thorntrees B&B in Ennerdale Bridge for our walk to the Borrowdale Valley, we knew that the weather just wasn’t going to be anywhere near good. In fact, it was downright miserable (at best), all day long. We had continuous, and I mean it didn’t stop for a single second the whole day, rain, and 40-50mph winds. Oh and it was pretty cold at times too. I had two or three layers on top and bottom, plus a mountain hat. I wished I’d had my gloves on at times. Welcome to August in the Lake District.
The walk to Borrowdale was around 14 or 15 miles only – but in these conditions, and with a proposed ascent of three high peaks (Red Pike, High Stile and Haystacks), this was not going to be easy at all.
I’d looked forward to this day on the C2C probably most of all in fact. That’s because it is the one most synonymous with Wainwright himself. Haystacks was his favourite mountain and his final resting place Innominate Tarn beside it. He put in his books before he died that “should you, dear reader, find a piece of grit in your shoe when walking by, then it might be me”
Getting to Haystacks however was going to involve scaling Red Pike and High Stile, and it was sadly obvious from before we even set off that that just wasn’t going to happen. In fact just walking around Ennerdale was hard enough. This was head down, get out of here weather. We couldn’t even see across Ennerdale in fact, and it is supposed to be very pretty. Haystacks and the rest of them would have to just wait for another day.
The ‘low route’ was thus chosen, and we splashed and sploshed our way around Ennerdale Water. From there we tried to eat a packed lunch under the cover of a few trees (we couldn’t get much wetter, but it was a brave attempt to keep the worst of the deluge out of our sandwiches.
Ennerdale Water – apparently a very pretty spot when you can see it properly!
Things got interesting however (despite this being the low route, we still had to climb up to over 2,000 feet) when we passed up past Black Sail YHA (closed due to Covid), and Brandreth and Grey Knotts and over towards the Honister Pass. The paths were becoming rivers, and the route then not always obvious. Mel was a bit scared on more than one occasion as we climbed up and the wind almost knocked her off her feet. I felt guilty that she was in that predicament but there was nothing I could do other than guide her and help her get up and down safely. I don’t think we passed anyone on the path at all the whole day, which given this as a day in August in the Lakes towards one of the most popular passes, will tell you just how shocking a day it was. If you had any choice at all in what you were doing this day you would simply have not even have got out of bed!
This’ll give you a brief idea of the wind, and this was at the foot of the fell – I didn’t dare get my phone out anywhere near the top!Trying to just cross some of the streams was a pretty hairy experience at times.
Thankfully by the time we came down past Honister Slate Mine, heads down and just tramping through bogs and puddles, the wind had eased somewhat, although the rain was still pelting down.
This would sadly be the nearest I got to Haystacks all day.
Thankfully the Glaramara Hotel in Seatoller provided a lot of welcome relief. A veritable oasis, the Glaramara is a lovely country hotel with open fires (they were on, and we sat right in front, again welcome to August in the Lake District!) and which also does a fixed three course dinner for all of its guests. We also deposited all of our wet kit in the drying room, which sadly was so full of kit and so humid that it would have taken a month to dry most things, and so we elected to turn all of the radiators on in the room instead and hang stuff on there.
Relief at last!!
Having chomped down very happily on all three courses (I think I could have eaten five) before retiring to the nice bar again, we chatted there to a DofE leader who had come in from the nearby campsite to shelter from the rain, and talked primarily about how bad the weather was going to be the next day. The debate was that we had an 18 or 19 mile day to Patterdale to get to, and the forecast was even worse than for today. He advised us that Lining Crag and Greenup Edge were the way to go, and so we settled on that. In this weather it was just a case of getting from place A to place B as efficiently and safely as possible. Views of the Lake District even were all but out of the window, which is such a shame.
Having looked at a number of options on the map for tomorrow, I knew that Greenup Edge was at least the shortest route, and didn’t look too testing in terms of contours, but the strength of the wind and rain would be the determining factor. Still, day two was over, and we were warm and well fed and watered, half way through the Lake District and already one sixth of our way to Robin Hood’s Bay. Day three though would be the most testing of the lot…..
As we all know, some days turn out better than others, and some days are really great. Some days are also surprising and turn up unexpected things that you don’t want to end. This day turned out to be all of those things.
Wainwright’s Coast to Coast starts in the little seaside town of St Bees, nestled on a peninsula at the westernmost tip of Cumbria and sat on the Irish Sea coast, overlooking (if you are lucky enough to get a clear day) the Isle of Man.
Starting our journey at Stonehouse Farm B&B at around 8:30, and with just 15 miles to do for our first day, we’d expected a fairly easy (and perhaps fairly nondescript one too if I’m honest, despite how excited I was about the whole thing) day.
Ready for the off!And this is the famous start sign – nearly ready for the start proper…Toes duly dipped by me…..…..and by Mel.And these pebbles would come with me the whole way. One was for keepsakes, and one would be given back to the sea at Robin Hood’s Bay.
We were blessed with fine, if slightly cool, weather to start with, at around 14 degrees. We thus collected our pebbles, dipped our feet in the sea and took our obligatory photos by The Alfred Wainwright sign. Duly set, we were on our way.
Looking back to St Bees from the headland.The coastal path went on for about four miles and was really lovely.Our first C2C signpost, and ready to leave the sea behind us.And the first views of the Lakeland fells come into view.
The walk (circular at first along the coast) was simply stunning. What do you want in a walk? Clifftops with great views of the sea and beach, with Isle of Man, Scotland and Northern Ireland thrown in? Check. Undulating terrain with woodland, great views, and more wildlife in terms of seabirds, cattle, sheep than you can imagine? Check. Hills and valleys, streams, ascents, descents that test your legs and lungs and fitness? Well Dent Hill gives you most of the latter, and the cliff top walk all of the former.
Good to see Mr Wainwright’s name appearing!On our way up Dent Hill – it is only little, but perfectly formed with beautiful views.And you have to celebrate your first summit don’t you?
Following Dent Hill there were also some testy descents and then a very long and beautiful wander through a rolling valley which reminded me very much of Dovedale in the Peak District. We were now effectively entering the Lake District proper. The day had been stunning, and I spent most of it in shorts and T shirt. Mel wished that she had packed shorts or cut off walking trousers and was basically too hot in the afternoon, not something that either of us would suffer from for the next two days though!
One of the few signs that pointed the way.
Reaching eventually Ennerdale Bridge on the edge of the Lake District (as opposed to just Cumbria) was an equally beautiful moment. It is such a lovely village, and the first time either of us had been there.
We stopped for a drink on arrival at the very lovely Fox and Hounds, and also booked in there for dinner later. We would follow a pattern from now of always booking dinner a day before we arrived at a particular location, to make sure we got a table. This was a very significant aspect of the Covid pandemic, and with restricted availability/tables in some pubs, and sometimes only one pub in the village we were in, this represented our only way of getting fed in the evenings.
Time to relax – day one done!
As we sat in the evening and tried to book (actually unsuccessfully as it turned out) for the following evening in Patterdale, I perused the weather forecast for the next day. It was going to a wet one with very high winds, and may well scupper my wish to see Haystacks and Innominate Tarn. But tomorrow would be another day.
For now we’d done our first 16 miles and around 2,400 feet of ascent – the Coast to Coast had started with a great and very memorable day.
Never of course in the now 11 year history of my blog have I commenced a post in the midst of the biggest global pandemic that any of us have ever witnessed. Moreover, in the context of the year for me, it’s been very challenging from the start. I began the year with a bad cartilage injury in my knee which threatened to stop me from running or even exercising again, then had what was going to be an amazing trip for Melanie and I to Everest Base Camp cancelled 9 days before we went (due to the aforesaid pandemic of course), and just two weeks ago found myself very unwittingly following a bike accident in a hospital in Cumbria with a(n albeit mild) brain haemorrhage.
Hopefully the year gets a lot less challenging from now on!
And so much more happily, as I write this, Melanie And I are on the third of four trains for the day, this one from Newcastle to Carlisle, as part of us getting to the start of a new and very real adventure – this one the Coast to Coast. I am, or we are should I say, very excited about that to say the least.
The Coast to Coast route and elevation profile from St Bees in Cumbria to Robin Hoods Bayin North Yorkshire.
The Coast to Coast walk, which takes several forms of both walking and cycling, is traditionally done from The English Lake District, and finishes at the edge of the North Yorkshire Moors near Whitby. We are doing the route the most traditional way of all, that ascribed to Alfred Wainwright himself. We will start therefore in St Bees in Cumbria, and end in Robin Hood’s Bay in North Yorkshire, some 197 miles away, at the end of a 13 day stretch.
I will not wax lyrically about Mr Alfred Wainwright here – plenty far more eloquent scribes than myself have given him all the accolades he deserves. Save to say Though that I have possessed his brilliantly illustrated books since I was a teenager; that one of them “Fellwalking with Wainwright” is singularly responsible for my having ascended Helvellyn (to the point of boredom of anyone who I was with at the time) around 25 times; and that I revere with awe the fact that he still inspires generation after generation of aspiring walkers and climbers today.
In fact on the second day of the walk, despite what appears to be a terrible weather forecast, we will hopefully walk over Haystacks, his final resting place on this earth. I will definitely do more than doff my cap – it will be a teary, very emotional and extremely respectful eye that I turn to the skies and the ground in commemoration and gratitude for all that he continues to bring to fellwalkers far and wide, many years after his passing.
Alfred Wainwright’s memorial in Buttermere Parish Church.
Our trip was ultimately born out of my time in lockdown, when I was very frustratedly perusing long distance trails to do once ‘all this’ was over. I watched many thru-hike (defined as a a multi-day hike which starts in one location and ends in another) videos on You Tube. The Pacific Crest Trail (inspired of course by Cheryl Strayed’ of Wild fame) is up there on my bucket list, as is the Appalachian Trail, and also the Camino.
‘The Way of St James’ as the Camino is often referred, is the most accessible of these, at 835km long, and being in Northern Spain, it can be done in around 33-35 days. However, with travel restrictions still being practically insurmountable currently, I set my sights a little closer to home. Of those closer to home, I’d still love to do The West Highland Way, and the Pennine Way, and then there’s the Jurassic Coast and the Cornwall Coastal Path to name but a few, but the Coast to Coast is the one for me that in the UK has the most appeal. It has Mr Wainwright’s name attached to it for a start!
Having thus persuaded once lockdown restrictions were eased (I don’t think it took much) Melanie to join me, it was then all about finding dates and sorting out logistics. The former was easy, given an abundance of time still to take of my annual holiday allowance, but the latter was not. The C2C has resting places in villages or hamlets by and large, and so trying to book these at a point when everyone and his dog was scrabbling around for the same thing proved at best very frustrating.
It was then that I came across a travel firm called Mac’s Adventures, who do the hard part for you and arrange all of the accommodation. Sold! They’ve been brilliant so far, and they also arrange for transport of your luggage each day in case you don’t want to carry your hairdryer etc with you – a must for me!!! We also have their seemingly very useful turn by turn app giving maps and the like. The accommodation they’ve booked looks great, but we will of course see how that turns out in due course.
Staying in 14 different places over 14 days (mainly B&Bs but some pubs too) is going to be very interesting. The first four days are in the Lakes, then the next seven through the Dales and the Pennines, and the last few through the North York Moors. We will apparently ascend more than the height of Mount Everest over the thirteen days, and the longest day is around 24 miles, so I’m sure (especially with some interesting weather to come, I’ve brought two pairs of boots so there’s always one pair trying to dry out) it will be challenging at times. I do also (alongside aforesaid mild brain haemorrhage, suffered just 15 days ago) have a sprained sacroiliac joint, which is causing my back a lot of pain. It’s easing though, and I’ve been cleared by my chiropractor to do this, so it’s happening!
The walk has quite a few traditions attached to it. One is to dip your feet in the Sea (the Irish at the start, the North at the other) at each end. Another is to take a pebble from one side and carry with you and throw into the sea at the other. Another is to give and take a sweet from ‘Fat Betty’ a stone monolith somewhere out in the Moors. I’m a traditionalist, and so of course I’ll do all three, and any others we come across. I’m sure there will be ups and downs and (hopefully minor!) struggles and the like along the way, but mainly I’m sure there will be lots of fun.
Hiking for me is part of being at one with nature, of seeing the best of the British countryside, of being able to clear one’s thoughts, and to challenge yourself on new adventures, to name but a few. And then of being fit, and of feeling alive – we all need that in these recent times, and you have to make the most of the opportunities that you have. That’s my philosophy and it’ll never leave me while I still have the ability to be able to do it – the subtitle of my blog after all is and always will be the mantra of Sherpa Tenzing Norway – ‘to travel, to adventure and learn, that is to live’, which is about as fitting as it gets.
I’ll close here though on another quote which I came across the other day, very fitting for two reasons. One it is written by Christopher McCandless, he who is the poignant subject of Jon Krakauer’s most excellent book (and subsequent film) ‘Into The Wild’. And second he wrote it about thru-hiking: “The very basic Core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun”.
I’m going to record the whole trip for the blog and will do a post covering each day’s journey.
To Kilimanjaro (and beyond?) 