The Pennine Way // day 12 // Middleton-in-Teesdale - High Cup Nick

The Pennine Way, day 12.
Distance: 29.1km (289.2km), time spent: 9:16.
Weather: Alternating between less and more overcast.

The Pennine Way has its share of geological wonders and today I would come to one of them, which also happens to be one of the definite highlights of the whole trail too. Long before I decided to hike the Pennine Way, I heard words and rumours of High Cup Nick. To that extent that I had made up my mind to camp there, no matter how far or short I would have to walk on that day. As it turned out, I would have to walk about 30k from Middleton-in-Teesdale to get there, or stop on the way.

Walking through Teesdale after Middleton.

Henry and Ana will only go to Langdon Beck today and stay at the youth hostel there, that means a shorter day than I have in front of me, so I leave Middleton-in-Teesdale earlier than them. We shared a good breakfast at Belvedere Bed & Breakfast first though. Only going to Langdon Beck on this stretch of the Pennine Way is not a bad idea, despite being a short stage at only 14k. Teesdale, according to many, has a lot to offer to keep you occupied during the day. For my own part, I will not have the time to see it all, but hope to see the best parts of this dale. May the force be with me.

Grassy path makes for a pleasant surface.

The walk through Teesdale is almost all about following the River Tees upwards to the first destination of the day. If the walkers are weary from the previous days, the start of this day is a boon, being a gentle stroll through mostly fields and farmland. Path going through clustered trees and over green meadows, with only whispers of what to come.

The Wynch Bridge.

Low Force.

The previous two days of rain caused some troubles in the Yorkshire Dales, with the collapsed bridge in Grinton the main centre of the unfolding events. Now the same rain are causing troubles along this part of the Pennine Way too. Although it could only be called a minor problem, the rain causes creeks to overflow and barring the passage over them. On the other side of one, I meet the cadets again, they had taken a long detour around to find a place to cross. I put on the bath shoes that I use for the evenings and just waded across the water.

Further on, I am surprised to meet Sophie and Roxanne again. I had not expected to see them again, given my short days to Gargrave and Malham, and zero day over Pen-y-Ghent. They are walking with a friend of Sophie's family, who will walk with them for a couple of days. When I meet them the trail has moved closer to the River Tees.

Carved insect in stone.

And it is the flowing water of the river that carries the sound of the first sight-to-see of today. Low Force, a waterfall that by its name implies that it will be followed by something bigger. Or at least taller than 5.5m, which is the height of this one. Next to the waterfall is the Wynch Bridge. This is the first suspension bridge in England, initially raised in 1741 and hung there over the Tees until it collapsed in 1802. Following a series of repairs, the current bridge dates back to 1830. Walking over the bridge is not the Pennine Way, but it is recommended to get a nice view of the waterfall falling over several rock-steps. You will probably not be alone at this place (or the next).

What the first part of the day was like, walking next to or near the River Tees.

Bidding farewell to Low Force to seek its bigger brother, the scenery becomes increasingly more 'wild', leaving the feeling of walking in a park or cultivated land behind. Vegetation reaches more over the path, unusual, as most of the paths the Pennine Way takes goes over open landscape. A somewhat welcome change of tune, though I know that it cannot really be called properly wilderness.

High Force.

As with Low Force, it is the sound that gives it away, only this time even louder. First unsure how far I had to go, it becomes suddenly very clear (and loud). Just before I arrive, another familiar face appear, another hiker that I met at the Tan Hill Inn. Although he had had his share of bad weather and decided to rent a car and seek out the sights along the way that way instead. Maybe we would meet again later, but I doubt it.

Above the frothing mass of High Force, looking back at the viewpoint I stood on earlier.

High Force is unsurprisingly definitely taller than its predecessor, rising to 21m. It gives out a bigger roar too. The best view of the waterfall is from a lookout point just off the Pennine Way. Formed where the Tees crosses the hard layer of igneous rock called the Whin Sill, it consists of nothing but three various types of rock, whinstone (dolerite), carboniferous sandstone and carboniferous limestone. You should not walk away from this sight as fast as the water pours over the rock. Standing at the top of the waterfall looking down at the seething mass of water is also really cool.

Gnarled trees at Bracken Rigg.

Another waterfall, this time coming down from the west, and more scarce vegetation follows on the path after High Force. You could be mislead being in a wild and desolate area, if it was not for the huge and ugly quarry towering like a festering scar on the other side of the river. The only torn in the side on an otherwise lovely walk. Dispersed farms are seen in this scarcely populated valley.

At Langdon Beck.

To go ahead with my plan, I need to fill up with water, but it is totally quiet and no one at the first alternative, Sayer Hill Farm, which offer basic riverside camping according to the guidebook. Unsuccessful, I have to walk up to the youth hostel instead, acquiring some additional meters. Not open there yet, but they let me fill up my camelbak and use one of the benches outside to prepare lunch. This is where Henry and Ana will go to and unless I meet them on the way back to the Pennine Way, I will not be seeing them until later maybe.

Widdy Bank.

From Langdon Beck it is another change of scenery. Having arrived up from the vegetated scenery next to the River Tees, the future ahead is that without trees. It looks barren, with green ridges rising up from an alpine landscape. Except that it is not, it only appear so. That is the strange feeling of hiking here in England, everything is so barren and devoid of trees that you feel you are walking high up in an alpine meadow scenery. Only that I am barely at 400m above sea level. The wind gives away the low altitude, it does not smell the same as higher up. Asking about why there are no trees, I got the answer that long time ago they cut down everything. Sending the sheep out, they ensured that every new sapling was eaten before any tree could root. My initial thought was that it was the soil here that proved too difficult for trees to survive.

Part of the walk beneath Falcon Clints went on boardwalks.

Boardwalks continued between Falcon Clints and Cauldron Snaut, The Pennine Way later passes by the farm building at the back.

Escaping the bull in the middle of a field, the route heads into a narrowing valley. Here the River Tees are fanned more out, broader, wilder and undeniable shallower than before. A group of fishermen are positioned next to the river, hoping for a catch (and a subsequent release). Walking slowly ahead of me is the old hiker I passed by on my second day, he is more talkative this time, today hoping to reach Dufton. The Falcon Clints are a set of boulders the path crosses over, difficult to walk on. And all of a sudden I do not find the walk interesting, feel tired of it. I reckon I must suffer from some form of weariness from the previous days. A counter reaction to something.

For it does not last long, the cascading flow and howl of Cauldron Snout sees to that. Here the Tees has been squeezed together by narrow rocks, forming an angry mass of water, which the trail follows next to on a slightly steep path. Wisps of water sometimes takes to the air, possibly being what wakes me up from my gloom. All the water is coming from the Cow Green Reservoir, but the hikers never see that lake unless they veer off the path.

Cauldron Snout.

There is still a lot of distance to cover for me, at least 10k I believe, with the Pennine Way now entering a more solitary and remote scenery. The gloom has gone from my mind, maybe retreated to the hills around. For the surrounding hills consists of what is described as the bleakest, boggiest and most forbidding moorlands in England. The worst thing is, with that description there is something in me wanting to go there. To see it for myself, but the experience would probably not be what I believe it to be.

Looking down towards Falcon Clints and the River Tees.

With the receding view of the River Tees snaking its way past the Falcon Clints, I walk past a very remote farm (Birkdale), remains of mines and next to a military firing range. Long before the Tees entirely disappeared out of view, I could still see the old hiker moving closer to Cauldron Snout. Sun is shining overhead, small creeks flows down from the hills, some of them dry (even now). I sit down for a break, with moorlands all around me.

At Rasp Hill, looking back where I came from, the remote farm of Birkdale is seen.

Horses, cows and sheep are grazing all around me as I walk next to Maize Beck, following the slowly sinking sun in the horizon. I realize that I might have forgotten something about my plan for today, arriving late at High Cup Nick probably means that a part of it will be in shade. There is also this question if all the animals moving around will make it difficult to find a place for my tent.

High Cup Nick.

The dolerite cliffs of High Cup Nick, with Murton Fell above.

Arriving at High Cup Nick makes me forget all about that. This is a sight to behold. At first the incised valley looks like a drop in the ground, then upon close hand the valley reveals itself. Spreading out in front of me is a wonderful symmetrical landscape feature. Looking almost like a giant has sliced out a huge part of the hills and cliffs using an ice cream spoon, or maybe a cup. The Whin Sill is also to blame for the forming of this dolerite geological feature. This is one of the moments on the Pennine Way that I had looked the most forward to. Shadows are creeping down the right hand side of the valley, but the view meets all that I had expected from it.

Sunset over a sheep (maybe called Nick), High Cup Nick and Dufton Fell.

Finding a place for my tent is though not that easy. The best spots are undeniably just on the brink of the valley, but that means almost directly on the path, I would like to camp more discreetly. Unfortunately, the ground otherwise is uneven and full of animal droppings. I spend some time finding a good enough to pitch my tent, a little away from the precipice of High Cup. Strangely enough, after a walk almost in quiet air all the time, the wind got in a hurry when I arrived here.

Evening over High Cup Nick.

Falling down into the symmetrical crevice is the small creek of High Cup Gill Beck, with not much of a waterflow to speak of at the moment. The best place to find shelter from the wind is below the dolerite cliffs. It is not a bad place in terms of view too, looking directly out towards the valley. Here I sit down to prepare my dinner and afternoon, later on my evening tea. As I am not much of a cook, the view is definitely better than my dinner.

High Cup of tea Nick.

I did not see the older hiker again, so I hope that he passed by here while I was busy with my tent. A wonderfully exciting day on the Pennine Way and I know that tomorrow will be another exciting one. Good times on the trail now.

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