Distance: 13.8km (183.1km), time spent: 4:13.
Weather: Overcast, light rain.
At last I got to the point where I took heed of the advice that I had got. That is not to say that I spent the day staying still, I have just put the Pennine Way on hold until tomorrow. I still went out for a walk. Having booked a room yesterday evening, I could leave my backpack at the hotel, they would bring it to my room when it was ready.
A creek passed by from Horton in Ribblesdale up towards Bracken Bottom.
At breakfast I get stung at the back of my neck by a ghost wasp, I could not see or hear any wasp (or insect), but I was definitely stung by something.
Sheep on the hills with Ribblesdale visible beneath the clouds.
I must say that I did toy around with the idea to do the Yorkshire Three Peaks Challenge this day, but this was supposed to be a rest day. For a short moment I also regret the decision to take a zero day, but that is usual, I always feel that. What I am going to do is make a return visit to that mysterious hill above, I will do the Yorkshire One Peak Challenge.
Interesting geology on the way.
The path up to the smallest of the three Yorkshire peaks.
Pen-y-Ghent, that name conjures up some images of mythical and fairytale beings. It does not sound anything like English, more like something from a fantasy book. Like a place Tolkien can conjure up, a place where woodwoses lurks about. In fact, the name originates from the Cumbric language. Most common is the interpretation that its name translates to 'Hill on the border', as pen means something like head or top, and y is the definite article (the). Ghent is the uncertainty. It was not just the name that I loved, I also loved the view of the hill from the South.
Fog in the valley (Ribblesdale) behind.
The Hill on the border.
To get up to Pen-y-Ghent I take the path going up from Bracken Bottom, this is the path that I would have taken yesterday if I had decided to go straight down to Horton in Ribblesdale. In hindsight, I am glad that I choose not to. Not because the walk up again is not nice, for that it is. A short stroll through woods next to a creek, before the familiar views of rolling hillsides appear. Separating the various fields from each other are the usual stone fences, going in criss-cross against the landscape. Beyond is Pen-y-Ghent appearing in and out of view, at the mercy of the rolling clouds above.
Pen-y-Ghent.
It is slightly embarassing to admit that one of the reasons why I wanted to return, was that I so wanted to take a good photo of that South-facing hillside. You could question that decision, as the weather forecast was of the negative kind, but it has not started to rain yet. Not that it is a clear sky above. I could not have timed my arrival at the foot any better. Standing at the same place as I did yesterday looking up towards the top of the hill, then obscured by clouds, blue colours appear in the clouds above. They are only there for a brief moment, but it is enough, I have had my moment.
Fountains Fell on the other side of the valley.
The path left behind, on the climb up towards Pen-y-Ghent.
Climbing up now is totally different, there are no clouds blocking my way or view. I can see Fountains Fell clearly on the other side of the valley, and the path I am leaving behind me on the way up. Stairs of stone in winding turns upwards helps the climb up, but are they made by unseen mythical creatures or by man? So strangely different the landscapes are when they are shrouded in mist and not.
Fence at the top with Plover Hill behind.
At the top, the fence is bent in a s-shape, with benches on each side, providing shelter from the wind both ways. I also find a small gathering of people at the top. Even under the low hanging clouds, the view is great.
Crossed stone fences on Plover Hill.
A man I passed by on the way up, asked if I would go over to Plover Hill too. That was not on my plan, but since he asked, I wonder if there are anything worthy to see there. It is not. Only a wet, soggy and sometimes boggy path leading down from Pen-y-Ghent and then up to the more indistinct moorland at the top of Plover Hill. I could maybe see some of the landscape I will be walking through on the continuation of the Pennine Way tomorrow, but there was not really anything to see that I had not seen before.
At Plover Hill looking back at Pen-y-Ghent.
The s-shaped shelter on top of Pen-y-Ghent.
There are however a lot more to see on the long and winding descent towards Horton in Ribblesdale. And far more than yesterday. Now the holes in the ground that riddles the area around Pen-y-Ghent are visible, among them Hunt Pot and Hull Pot. With the millstone grit top above me, I go visit the Hull Pot. This is the largest natural hole in England, so do not fall down into it. It is about 18m deep. Hull Pot Beck usually makes the plunge into the pot, but now it runs dry. Walking towards it, you do not see until the hole suddenly opens up in the ground. It is really cool, glad that I got to see it.
View from Pen-y-Ghent, with Ingleborough in the background. If you look closely you can also see Hull Pot.
The rest of the walk down goes past what I already saw yesterday, but at least I can take my time studying the surrounding scenery now. It does not rain and I am not soaking wet and cold. I have company by Kevin from Blackpool. We part company at the Pen-y-Ghent Café, which still is closed. Before returning to the hotel, I stop for a short snack and coffee at a local café.
Looking back up at the Ghentle Giant.
All is quiet at the Golden Lion Hotel, a far cry from yesterday. My room is ready and my backpack is waiting for me inside when I enter, it has probably rested more than I have today. One thing that I love about hotel rooms in England is that they always have a water cooker. Having finished my walk, taken a shower and got into my dro clothes, it is time to do some proper resting. I sit down in the bed, while I prepare hot tea or coffee.
Hull Pot with Hull Pot Beck running dry.
Hull Pot and Pen-y-Ghent.
The forecast was for wet weather, but it had not rained anything when I did my hike over Pen-y-Ghent. That was good, but I had a little hope that it would come pouring down when I was finished walking. Somehow it is relaxing sitting inside, good and dry, while watching it rain outside. Only a light rain materializes.
Walking down next to Horton Scar.
In the evening I venture out of my room and down to the pub for dinner. I eat a chicken curry with rice, which is quite good. Then I sit down with a couple of beers to rest. It is peacefully quiet in the bar now, just a very few other guests. It is fitting in a way. A group of young people arrives at the bar, having made an attempt at the Yorkshire Three Peaks Challenge. They look tired, but still happy.
In Horton in Ribblesdale.
Finally in the late evening, it begins to pour down. Tomorrow I will be out walking on the Pennine Way again, that will be good. A great day actually. A candidate for one of the best zero days that I have ever had.
Interior of the Golden Lion Hotel.
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