Captain's Log

Tan Hill

After yesterday’s rain, the weather forecasters promised some sunshine today. Looking out of the windows at our digs at Hawes, the outlook promising. I decided to do a circular work between Tan Hill Inn and Keld. The day looked a little less promising as we drove across the top of Buttertubs Pass when black clouds descended and rain splattered on the car’s windows. The outlook looked positively dreadful as we made our way up the single track road from Keld to the Tan Hill Inn.
‘Let’s give it 5 minutes’ I suggested to the Kapitan, Cabin Boy and Ted as I pulled into the offroad parking near the Tan Hill Inn. Thirty seconds later, I suggested that we do a walk back at Hawes where the sun had been shining and the clouds less menacing. To his credit, the Kapitan still wanted to do the walk from Tan Hill Inn, but with 3 votes against him, that was never going to happen. I drove back to Hawes, with the Kapitan sulking in the rear seat.

It was still bright and dry when we arrived back at Hawes. While having a cup of tea, I formulated a route that would take us from our base at Hawes and field-hop to the village of Buttersett. We’d climb up to Wether Fell and then follow the Roman road (Cam High Road) to Bainbridge, further east along the Wensleydale valley. We’d cross over to the other side of the River Ure and field-hop our way back to Hawes via the village of Sedbusk. There would be a lot of field-hopping involved, but it was known territory and we knew that the views from the route would be great. 

Buttersett

Given the recent rain, I thought there might be more water tumbling down the cascades of Gayle Beck. It still looked pretty enough though. We started our field-hop to Buttersett. Some of the fields were hay meadows with their colourful flowers blooming. We’d not been walking long when we came across a Wren singing a merry song. It sounded like a Stonechat rather than a Wren, but when the Cabin Boy used her phone app to identify the bird, it confirmed that the song was from a Wren. It was a lovely route through the fields with great views down the Wensleydale valley. As soon as we reached the outskirts of Buttersett, we left it again on a farm track that headed uphill. It was a gradual climb and didn’t seem to take much effort. Eventually the fields and hay meadows changed to grassy fell and the farm track, to a grassy path.
‘Are we going up Drumaldrace?’ the Kapitan enquired. ‘I don’t think Ted has ticked that one on his Dales 30 list. I had actually thought about doing it, but it would probably have added another 2 miles on what was going to be a 12 mile walk.
"We'll do it another time," I replied.
We reached the Cam High Road and started heading down it towards Bainbridge. There was no getting lost on this particular road; it was as straight as an arrow. The descent was gradual, although it did have one or two slight undulations. This particular location was infamous for the occasion that the Cabin Boy lost her knickers (see Captain’s Log, Losing The Cabin Boy’s Knickers On Drumaldrace). The analytics for the Nun’s Walks website indicates this page to be very popular. Apparently a lot of people arrive at the page using a search request of ‘knickers around ankles.’ One can only imagine their abject disappointment and frustration when they actually get to the page. My apologies to them. Thankfully, the Cabin Boy's knickers remained in place on this particular day and we continued to plod down the long Cam High Road.

Bainbridge

It was about a 3.5 mile trudge down that road to Bainbridge. The sun was out though and there were tremendous  views across the valley  and so it wasn't too much of a hardship. A couple of times we came across sheep that had escaped the fields onto the road. One sheep jumped onto the top of the high stone wall and back into the  field, when we approached. It did it so easily, it made me wonder whether the stone walls were of any use at all. Just under a mile from Bainbridge we joined the single track tarmac road from Semer Water. This swiftly brought us into the village and we sought out a patio table on the village green to have our lunch. It was a little close to the A684 and so a little noisy, but it was nice to have a proper seat. 

Sedbusk

The road bridge delivered us to the north side of the River Ure. There was a moment of panic when the Cabin Boy thought that the route would take us through a plethora of cows. Fortunately, it field-hopped its way through the fields adjacent to them. In fact it followed the path of the old Wensleydale Railway line. Passenger services were discontinued in 1959 and the line was closed to all traffic in 1964. You’d think that a train service to Hawes would be quite popular in modern times. The route was about 200 metres from the river and we occasionally got glimpses of the Ure making its way down the valley. We’d walked a similar route a couple of years ago (see Captain’s Log, Field Hopping Between Hawes And Bainbridge) and near to Cams House we’d found a sign saying ‘Caution Blind Dog In Road.’ There was no sign to be found today and we debated whether the dog was still around. Maybe its eyesight had got so bad now, they keep it in the house now.       

The paths gradually started to take us uphill and the fields came thick and fast on the last stretch to Sedbusk. One of the fields had cows in it, but they were all lying down and looked rather bored as they chewed their cud. Sedbusk was only a small collection of houses, but it was a very pretty collection. On the outskirts we came across a stone outhouse that had a sign on it saying it was a ‘Man Cave.’ I presumed this was the Dale’s version of Bruce Wayne’s Bat Cave. On the other side of the village we crossed yet another stile in order to complete the last section of field-hopping towards Hawes. 

Return

We started to lose the height that we’d gained on our ascent to Sedbusk. There was a great view over towards Hawes with Dodd Fell beyond. The Cabin Boy nearly delivered kittens when a cow sneezed. The Titty Gate provided some difficulties to some walkers that were trying to get through it. With our small packs we breezed through the narrow kissing gate. The good weather had brought out the punters and the centre of Hawes was busy with potterers. I replenished my supply of Parkin and biscuits at a grocery store as we headed back to our digs. 

Given the dire weather at the Tan Hill Inn earlier this morning, I was delighted that the day had turned out to be a dry and sunny affair. We probably broke some sort of record on the number of stiles that we crossed on our field-hops, but the scenery was so picturesque that it was a small price to pay.