Captain's Log

Cauldron Snout

I stayed in the Teesdale Hotel in Middleton-in-Teesdale last night. I needed to recharge my electrics and the hotel's £58 (2026) single room seemed good value. It had been a treat to be able to flick a switch and boil some water instead of the palaver of setting up a  stove first. I’d even washed some clothing and managed to get it dry using a very efficient radiator. It would have been easy to have stayed under the duvet until checkout time and had an easy day, but progress had to be made on the Pennine Way and today’s stage would be a particularly tough 21 mile affair. The Pennine Way from Middleton-in-Teesdale seems to forge its way against the grain of the land. The valleys run east to west whilst the Pennine Way heads north to south. The day would be a long traverse of rolling hills that would culminate in a total vertical ascent of around 900 metres. The day would bring a significant milestone though; I’d reach the halfway point on the Pennine Way, somewhere near to where the trail intersects the trans-Pennine A66. It would also leave the gritty remote fells of the Northern Pennines behind and enter the realm of the epic Yorkshire Dales. My destination for the day would be the village of Keld, which was nestled at the northern end of the Dales National Park. There was therefore no time to hang about and I was out of the hotel’s front entrance by 07:00 am. 

Lunedale

It was a tough start to the day with a steep haul and field-hop over the shoulder of Harter Fell to the south of the town. The day started with sunshine, but there was a definite chill in the air. As I breached the hill's shoulder, I came across a two-man tent pitched in a field. There was no sign of life from the tent. Lapwings were very vocal and dive bombed me as I made my way back down the hill on the other side. This turned out to be a feature of the day. It was a field-hop down into the Lunedale valley. Although there were signs indicating the route, it was necessary to keep a canny eye out for them. I think it was only because I’d walked this route a few times before that I didn’t go astray this time. I’d resupplied at Middleton-in-Teesdale and there wasn’t anything in the honesty box at Wythes Hill farm to take my fancy. I crossed the B6276 and continued the field-hop on the other side. I was seeing more stone barns in the fields now, another indicator that I was getting nearer to the Dales. Selset and Grassholme reservoirs were located at the bottom of the Lunedale valley and the Pennine Way goes between them. I headed to the carpark at the Grassholme Reservoir where I knew there was a picnic table and an ideal spot for a break. I brewed a tea while squinting at the sun glistening off the water of the reservoir. 

Baldersdale

I had to make my way back uphill of course on this rollercoaster of a day. The Pennine Way field-hopped its way southwards. It was a gradual climb and not too arduous. No sooner had I reached the top, then I was heading back down again into Baldersdale. People of a certain age will remember documentaries about Hannah Hauxwell who maintained a spartan existence at Low Birk Hatt farm in Baldersdale between 1961 and 1988. She would collect her water from a stream, breaking the ice first if necessary. It looked like an unbelievable existence in a modern age. Later documentaries transported her from the moors and placed her in exotic locations such as France, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Italy and then the USA. Whereas the original documentaries were informative, these later ones seemed a bit exploitative to me. There again, I suppose she did get some free holidays. The Pennine Way passes Hannah’s Meadow which was a hay meadow previously owned by Hauxwell. It then passed her farm itself which is now a private property. The farm was situated at a lovely location near to Blackton Reservoir, which Hauxwell used to call the Mississippi. Hannah sold the farm and land in 1988 and moved to a cottage in nearby Cotherstone. She died in 2018 aged 91 and so her active life may have had some benefit. 

Clove Lodge Honesty Cafe

A picturesque path led me around the western end of Blackton Reservoir. I could see the dam wall holding back the water of Balderhead Reservoir further westwards along the valley. There was a short climb to Clove Lodge where I had a rather pleasant surprise. The owners had converted a barn into probably the best honesty cafe that I’ve ever visited. It was an honesty cafe in the true sense in that it didn’t have a price list and it was left to the visitors to determine the amount of donation. There was pretty much everything on offer in terms of food and drink, but there were also other items such as gas canisters and hand-gels that would benefit backpackers too. There was a kettle and a fridge. I bought some lemonade and flapjacks and settled down in one of their chairs. It was a cheery place, but a little bizarre when you looked a bit more closely. There was a life sized mannequin dressed as Freddie Kruger. Hmmm. There was an unusual, humorous painting hung on the wall. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all and so I picked up the visitors book. I recognised some of the entries from NoBos that I’d met including the Scottish Rogue Outdoors whom I’d met on his LEJOG attempt, just north of Bellingham. The Rogue passed through here on the 18th of April. It appeared that he came through a year ago as well when he did the Pennine Way. I guess it must have been a practice run for his longer walk. I could have stopped there all day, but time was pressing and I still had many miles to cover. I left my entry in the visitors book. 

Cotherstone Moor

I left the fields behind as I headed southwards over Cotherstone Moor. It was boggy in places and occasionally the route was indistinct. It was still a rolling landscape though and I headed up and down. Halfway across the moor, the path headed down into Sled Dale where one end of a wooden building had been dedicated as a small shelter. I went inside to escape the strong wind and have  some lunch. There were a few chairs inside to make the place a little less spartan. Rather than use a visitors book, the plywood walls had been used to record the shelter's visitations. There was nothing for it but to add my moniker too. I stepped back outside into the wind. One more hill to climb and then it was a descent to the A66 and the halfway point on the Pennine Way.

Halfway On The Pennine Way

It didn’t seem to take long to cover that last part of the moor. I could hear the traffic on the A66 before I actually saw it. After the days of peace and quiet it seemed odd to reach the noise and speeding traffic on the dual carriage way. There was also the accumulation of litter along its boundary. Fortunately, Pennine Wayers don’t have to risk life and limb by crossing the road, they can go underneath it using a  tunnel instead. I looked to see if my favourite sign on the Pennine Way was still there. It was! It’s a circular yellow Bridleway sign. On it somebody has written,
‘Congratulations on completing half of the Pennine Way. Good luck with the rest.’
Underneath it, somebody has written,
‘SUCKERS.’
For some reason, that makes me laugh. 

Halfway ticked, the path ran alongside and below the A66 for a short distance. A lorry driver rumbling down the carriage way above, waved to me from his cabin. I waved back. I was thankful when the trail branched away from the road and southwards again. It dropped down to the River Greta where there was a  lime kiln on each bank. I say river, but there was hardly any water running down it. There must have been a lot at some time though since there’s now a naturally formed limestone bridge across it called God’s Bridge.    

I headed through the last fields before Wytham Moor. The Lapwings around here took great exception to me. They swooped so close that I instinctively moved out of the way on some occasions. They were definitely the most aggressive ones that I’d encountered. 

Sleightholme Moor

I followed the edge of Wytham Moor before dropping down into a shallow valley to cross Sleightholme Beck. The trail then headed out onto Sleightholme moor using a stone road. This moor was flatter than those north of the A66. I was making my way towards the Tan Hill Inn which was located to the southwest of the moor. Halfway across the moor, the Pennine Way left the road and made a direct route to the inn. I’d walked this path before and found it okay until you reached the area near the inn. It then became a boggy nightmare. I remember wading through the area with water well above boot level. I didn’t want to risk wet feet on a long trek and so I took the wimps option and stuck to the stone road. This headed southwards and eventually met up with a tarmac road. The tarmac road then headed westwards to the Tan Hill Inn. It wasn’t the most interesting route, but there again, due to the flatness of the moor, the official Pennine Way route doesn’t offer anything better. 

Tan Hill Inn

I reached the Tan Hill Inn around 15:30. I still had another 4 miles to walk, but the lure of a beer at the inn was irresistible. I bought a pint of Theakstons Old Peculiar and found an empty patio table at the front of the inn. A couple of hairy bikers were sitting at the next table and I couldn’t help overhear their conversation. The older one recounted a tale of racing a (Suzuki) Hayabusa on the A6 with his inferior powered machine. He’d chatted with the Hayabusa rider later on.
‘He told me that I always hugged the best racing line on the road and there was no way he could get past me.’ Oddly enough, the elder biker had actually turned up at the inn driving a Bentley rather than a bike.
‘Bought for a decent sum mate, with only £50,000 miles on the clock. The hoods fucked on it though.’
The younger biker had ridden there on a trike which had a metallic purple paint job. Another geezer came along and their conversation drifted around anecdotes of cars and bikes. My excellent Old Peculiar had drifted too quickly to my stomach. I was tempted to get another one, but knew that would make the 4 mile plod to Keld more of an ordeal than it ought to be. I heaved the rucksack on to my back and left the bikers and the geezer to their stories. 

West Stones Dale

I headed southwards from the inn and gradually started a descent into West Stones Dale. I rather like heading southwards on this path; there’s always a good view down the dale. The path was mostly downhill too, although it spends all of its time well above the bottom of the dale. I made good time, possibly down to the rehydration provided by the Old Peculiar. I came across the bizarre gate at Lad Gill that was so easy to bypass it must puzzle sheep too. Stone barns started appearing across the landscape; a sure sign that I was now officially in the Dales. Eventually Keld appeared, nestled at a crossroads of valleys. The Pennine Way doesn’t head directly to the village, but descends to some pretty waterfalls near the River Swale. I crossed the river on a footbridge and then started the steep climb back up to the village. It was 17:45 when I entered the shop at Rukin’s Campsite. 

Keld

‘What time does your shop shut?’ I asked the lady behind the counter.
‘Half past five’ she replied. I rechecked my watch; it was definitely 17:45. Obviously Keld used a different timezone to everybody else. Given this temporal doubt, I couldn’t risk any delay and I bought a slab of currant slice for £3. I sat at a patio table outside the shop and stuffed it into my chops. I would really have to stop these impulse cake purchases. Sugar levels zinging I went in search of a pitch. The last time I’d camped here the midges had been a nightmare and I’d spent most of my time zipped up in my tent. There were a few fluttering about in the evening sun today, but a slight wind was keeping them to within manageable levels.     

 It had been a long day, but the sun and cool breeze had made it perfect for walking. I’d crossed halfway and was now on the homeward run on the Pennine Way. Tomorrow would present arguably the most picturesque section of the Pennine Way on a tramp along Swaledale and over Great Shunner Fell to Hardraw. I couldn’t wait…they serve Old Peculiar at the Green Dragon at Hardraw.