Distance: 22.1km (311.3km), time spent: 8:58.
Weather: Cloudy.
Rising on the horizon today is maybe the most anticipated of all the fells along the Pennine Way, Cross Fell. This is the highest point on the trail and is also the holder of the records for extreme weather in England. Tales of woe and dare surrounds the fell, but most of the year it is fog that surrounds it. As is what surrounds my tent when I look out in the morning, reminding me of the morning after my first day on the way.
Fog fills the valley of High Cup Nick in the morning.
When the fog eventually withdraws, it creates a magical morning. First, it retreats nearly all the way down to the lowlands below, leaving High Cup Nick wide open. Then it slowly returns and regains ground all the way back up to the brink of High Cup Nick again, filling the symmetrical scar with clouds, with strands of vapours flowing over the edge. And I could watch it all from my breakfast spot. Finished eating, the whole valley is hidden by the clouds. As I leave on the northern rim of the valley, the clouds begins to disperse, little by little revealing the wonderful scenery hidden from view again.
When I left, the fog was dispersing, revealing the valley below.
It takes time to say farewell to Nick, walking on top of the side of it on the first part down towards Dufton. According to my guidebook, the Pennine Way used to go closer to the edge on a paved path called Narrowgate. Now the path has taken a different turn and been diverted further away from the scar. Did the path become too narrow to walk on? Whatever the reason is for the rerouting, I take my chance on the Narrowgate, straying but a little from the Pennine Way. I do not regret it, it being a wonderful little path, where parts of the paved path has lost out to vegetation.
Goodbye to Nick.
Narrowgate.
Most walkers not carrying a tent will head down towards Dufton to find accommodation. On the other hand, if you look at the map, you will see that if you head in a north-west direction from the High Cup, you can go straight to the Pennine Way and rejoin it again as it comes up from Dufton. That, I do fear, will however impose a rather cumbersome walk across boggy moorland, and there is also those English rules of where you can go and not can go. I do not wander off the Pennine Way this time, dutifully following its course through grassy slopes above limestone bedrock.
Dufton Pike.
Without the view of the Lake District far back in the distance, the most striking feature on the way down is the conical shape of Dufton Pike. The Pennine Way heads straight towards it, then veer off and follows a track with drystone walls on both sides. The walk down is all so very British. Earlier today I had met a couple of fell runners (is it not what they call them here?), on the road I meet an woman who had driven them here. Quite interestingly, she is making business on driving fell runners to their starting points and picking them up afterwards at their endpoints. She will drive around the North Pennines Area of Outstanding Beauty and pick them up, then drive them to Middleton-in-Teesdale. She offers me a lift down to Dufton, but confirming at the same time that I probably would not do that.
Descent to Dufton.
Dufton is a pleasant little place at the foot of the fells. There are places in the world that lives underneath the shadows of mountains with weather and conditions that threatens their very existence, but I doubt that could be said of Dufton, even with Cross Fell above it. It does not stop me for looking expectantly up at the fells, wondering how it will be up there. At the moment it is peace and quiet, they are all visible from down here, Cross Fell and Great Dun Fell with its white radome ball.
The walker posing in Dufton, ready to take on the fells.
I have a long break at the pleasant Post Box Pantry, stuffing myself with food and drinks, soon having company by the fell runners taxi driver. I overhear a walking group talking about their plan for today. The main goal of their walk is the Dufton Pike, and I can hear one explaining that the only legal way up is from the side facing the Pennine Way coming down from High Cup Nick. Those English rules again.
A sparse alley of trees after having left Dufton.
Time has come to head back into the British wilderness again, the fells awaits. After Dufton, the Pennine Way goes almost straight up towards what is described as the highest, most remote and exposed part of the trail. Without a tent or anything suitable for spending the night at the remote bothy of Greg's Hut, this part of the Pennine Way will usally be the hardest stage, forcing the hikers to either go to Carrigil with its limited accommodation or all the way to Alston. The short story is, it is a long walk.
...and the fells awaits.
First, though, I have to negotiate through another kind of bog, the one left behind by cows. Looking away from the smelly and squelchy manure, the walk is quite enjoyable. When you usually walks through a treeless landscape, it is gratifying to spend some time with trees adorning your way. Far from being a forest, and the trees do not linger very long either, soon giving way to the open landscape and the awaiting moorland hills above.
Looking back at the Vale of Eden below.
With the Vale of Eden and its flat approach to the Lake District behind me, I take to the fells, on a gravel track slowly losing its way to vegetation. With all that I have read about this part of the Pennine Way, the air is full of anticipation. Rain is also starting to fill the air, but thankfully it does not last very long. The truth about this not being the best place for good weather in England settles in, as the sky above is far from being cheerful at the moment. Should that break the mood of this walk? Definitely not. As I progress upwards, the view gets progressively better, Knock Pike gets progressively smaller, and I walk on a good nice path for once. And on the horizon, there is a beacon appearing.
Knock Old Man.
Once you reach the top, you face the highest of all the peaks and fells of the Pennine Way. Sort of the backbone of the trail. Greeting you welcome is the stout square cairn Knock Old Man. It does not mark the top of Knock Fell itself, but it do mark the the spot where the firm path leaves way for the moorland and fells ahead. First out, just short away from Knock Old Man, is Knock Fell itself, at 794m. Then Great Dun Fell follows at 848m, with its huge golfball clearly visible, and at last lies Cross Fell, 893m.
Light shining on the white radome at the top of Great Dun Fell, with Cross Fell behind.
I had suspected the surface through the moorland to be wetter, but it is drier than I had anticipated. Even where the route has to cross over water on the usual slabs of stone. When it comes to the path, it is not difficult to understand the difficulty walkers have when crossing over here in heavy fog. As soon as you leave any of the flagstone paths, the path diminishes. Looking to my left, I can see the Vale of Eden below with its settlements, but on my right the view is that of a much more emptier landscape.
The Pennine Way to Great Dun Fell.
The wind is chillier up here, I walk with my wind jacket wrapped around me. I can see the water of the Cow Green Reservoir in the distance, wondering if there are any Pennine Wayfarers walking below that. Maybe Henry and Ana is walking there right now, they would be heading for Dufton today. As for other people up here, I have only sheep for company, there is even a punk sheep (all in pink). The Pennine Way ventures for a short time out on the highest road in England, which leads up to the weather and aircraft monitoring station at the top of Great Dun Fell (but that also could be used as an easy way to get down from the trail if the weather should be foul). Apparently there are over 200 days here that can boast being misty. Today is thankfully not one of them. I like it up here, even with the strange anomaly of the radome ball.
The sheep and the ball.
There it is, Cross Fell itself, with Little Dun Fell before it.
On Cross Fell things changes. The sky is darker, but there is light to be seen in the horizon, sunrays are escaping beyond the Vale of Eden. A thin and tall cairn, looking as it is about to topple over, stands as a guard on the approach to the top. Dreaming of blue sky over Cross Fell might be just that, a dream, but the view I get from the top is better than that dream (although it could quickly change into a nightmare). Over Lake District in the horizon, the sun is making a gig in the sky again. Walking towards the top of Cross Fell it becomes clear that there would be no path to walk on in mist, it will disappear. I reach the summit easily and sit down at the cross-shelter for a rest, looking at the lightshow from the Lake District, but I am not alone at the highest point of the Pennine Way. Even in the wind, the summit is full of annoying midges. I feel cold and eaten up, so I do not stay for long.
The tall and slender cairn at Cross Fell, watching over the walk back towards Great Dun Fell.
From Cross Fell, the path is even more vague. And when it is not vague, it is very wet, forcing me to take several strange detours. Reaching a track with the reassuring name of Corpse Road, I have firmer footing underneath. Below me, the roof of my destination comes in view behind a pile of slag. Greg's Hut is a remote bothy situated at about 700m on the north slopes of Cross Fell. Originally a mining shop, which was a building used to lodge the miners who lived and worked in the mines here, it is now a very basic hut that can be used as a shelter by walkers. From the moment I read about the hut, I knew that I wanted to stay there.
The cross-shelter at Cross Fell.
No matter how basic the hut is, I am happy to arrive. Inside there are two rooms (not counting the small entrance room). The first room is the biggest one and also the most empty looking, no tables and several plastic chairs lined up next to the walls. Tibetan prayer flags hangs in the roof and there is a plaque in honour of John Gregory, a famous British mountaineer. The inner room is where I settle in. Here there is a large flat sleeping platform where I can put out my sleeping matress and bag on, and a fireplace with enough space for my stove.
Light over Lake District, seen from Cross Fell.
Having arrived, I would not mind seeing the fog seeping down from the fell and enshroud the hut in mist and mystery. It would make a better adventure of it, but it does not. Instead the sky turns on a more reddish glow as the evening progresses. I make small outside visits to look at the evening sky and scenery, slightly cold in the wind outside, from the windows there is a warm light from the candles I have lit inside. No on else arrives.
Inside Greg's Hut, notice the plaster sprinkled on the chairs.
I make my dinner on my stove, no extraordinary dish there, plain noodles with additional ham. A cup of tea and then relaxing with a book that keeps the weight up (actually Walking Home by Simon Armitage). I also read in the guestbook, tales of woe and dare, of getting lost on Cross Fell in mist. What I read makes me wanna make a fire in the fireplace, but there are no firewood here and I do not bother going out to look for some. Besides, it is not that cold inside either. I am having a nice evening.
Greg's Hut.
From High Cup Nick to Greg's Hut, from one highlight to another, crossing over some others of the Pennine Way on the way. A good day so to say, even if I cannot add any tale of woe or dare to the guestbook.
Evening at Greg's Hut.
<< High Cup NickAlston >>
No comments:
Post a Comment