Day 16: Disobeying Orders and Flirting with Disaster!

August 11, 2024: I woke up to beautiful clear skies! 

Now that there was daylight, I could take some photos of Greg's Hut.

Most of the day consisted of walking along Corpse Road, which I know sounds bad, but it really wasn't. The road was gravel, but it wasn't especially busy or difficult. A couple of vehicles passed by, but that was it and the road was almost entirely level.

Corpse Road was generally flat and easy, but also a little boring.

The trail then dropped into the town of Garrigill, which I was excited to get to since the guidebook promised a bar in town and--if I was lucky--might even serve food. Even without food, however, I was excited at the prospect of a cold drink. But, as it turned out, the bar did not exist! There was a post office with convenience store items in it, but being a Sunday, it was closed. I was badly disappointed.

I hobbled around town to see if there was anything of use at all in the town. Somewhere to get a cold drink or a snack or something, but I came up empty. There was really nothing for hikers here. Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true. I did manage to find a faucet where we could refill our water bottles and public restrooms, so at least we got that much out of the town. Better than nothing, I suppose, but much less than I had expected.

I wound up taking an hour long break in the small park in the center of town before picking up my pack and pushing onward. Almost immediately outside of the town, there was a sign posted saying that hikers should follow an alternate route because of a bridge that was closed further up the trail. The alternate appeared to more-or-less parallel to the main trail, except it was on the right side of the river that the trail followed along instead of the left side, and being a good hiker like I am, I followed the alternate.

The town of Garrigill turned out to be a big disappointment for me.

The alternate started well, passing near a nice waterfall that I otherwise wouldn't have seen but almost looping back into town from another direction. Within an half hour, however, the alternate route either became very badly overgrown or I lost it completely because I eventually found myself bushwhacking--which I had definitely not signed up for!

I knew the main trail was just on the other side of the river, and the river looked low enough that I figured I could just ford it if I had to and finally I decided to do that. Actually, I was even able to rock-hop across the creek without even getting my feet wet and soon found myself back on a solid, well-maintained trail. After that, my progress improved. 

Then I reached the bridge closure. I knew this was the closed bridge because a giant sign had been posted on it saying it was closed. Looking at the bridge, however, I couldn't see anything wrong with it. It looked fine as far as I could tell. Maybe there was some sort of structural defect that I couldn't see, but I decided to cross on the supposedly closed bridge anyhow. I still have no idea why that bridge was officially closed, but it worked fine for me.

I had no idea why the bridge was closed, but I recklessly disregarded the notice and crossed it anyhow.

The alternate route joined the main trail just past the bridge, and the rest of the day's hike was uneventful.

At the end of the day, I arrived at the Alston youth hostel, where I had booked a bed for the night. Strictly speaking, I had nothing against camping tonight, but I had expected to finish the day's hike near Alston and I figured that I may as well use the hostel since it was on the trail and right there.

After checking in, I headed to the Spar supermarket--maybe a 5-10 minute walk away--to check it out and get some snacks. Then I headed another 5 minutes into town to the Cumberland Inn for dinner on the recommendation of the receptionist from the hostel. 

I didn't make any notes about what I ate in my journal, so I can't report what it was. Sorry!

Later in the evening, I started making some tentative plans for the next few days on the trail, checking weather forecasts and figuring out an exit strategy for Karolina. She had to fly back and return to work in less than a week. Her original plan was to hike the entire Pennine Way and then take a bus and train to the airport and fly home, but at this point, it seemed unlikely that we'd reach the end of the trail before she had to leave. Which meant she had to figure out where she could get off the trail in time to catch her flight. She had some logistics to work out!

My home for the night was this youth hostel in Alston.

The main room in Greg's Hut

For nearly 24 hours (starting since about lunch time yesterday), I could see this radar station. Yesterday, I passed right by it, but I could still see it in the distance for much of the morning today.

Tailings from old mines

I saw these pyramid-shaped objects all along the trail today, but I couldn't even come up with a guess for what their purpose was.

If you look closely, you can see something resembling a face in the bark of that tree on the left. ;o)

Day 15: The Highest Low Point

August 10, 2024: The wind died down during the night, but the weather gods decided to switch out the wind with rain. Better than wind and rain, though!

Because of the rain, I lingered in a camp a bit late trying to wait out the rain, more-or-less successfully.

The trail descended to a valley bottom before climbing again, this time popping out by High Cup Nick, an impressive gorge and cliff in the ground before the trail descended a long way down to the town of Dufton.

I stopped at the Stag Inn hoping to grab lunch, but it turned out that they weren't serving food at the time. I was disappointed about this, I got a Pepsi while I got online and used the bathrooms since I was there already.

Later, I headed across the street to the Post Box Pantry, which I thought was some sort of convenience store and maybe I could get food there. I was correct in the fact that I could get food there, but it was more of a cafe than a convenience store! That was fine by me--even better, actually, since now I could order a proper lunch. =)

Post Box Pantry

But the day was still early, and I had miles to do. After finishing lunch, I headed out of town climbing steeply toward the highest point of the entire trail: Cross Fell.

But before I reached that point, I had to reach a few other smaller peaks. First there was Knock Fell, then another peak, and another peak--the names of each aren't important--but it was demoralizing to reach a peak, then know there was another peak further ahead, and another. It was exhausting, not the last of which because the fierce wind had returned and it was absolutely brutal, often pushing me over and off my feet.

Great Dun Fell had a giant radar station on top, which made that particular peak memorable. There was a large building by it, and I hoped there was a space where hikers might be able to get out of the wind, but not only was not that the case, but there was a large fence around it that didn't even allow me to get next to the building where I could use it as a windbreak.

Great Dull Fell had this radar station on the top--which I could actually see all the way from back in Dufton while eating lunch at the Post Box Pantry.

 

And the trail became horribly boggy at the top along the ridgeline! My feet were positively soaking. Even the stepping stones meant to keep me out of the bog were often under an inch or two of water.

I really hit rock bottom by the time I reached the peak called Little Dun Fell. I had been certain that it was actually Cross Fell and excited to be done with the last peak, but as I neared the summit, I realized that it wasn't the high point. The next peak along the ridgeline was visible, and it was tall and steep and when I realized that I still had to climb it, I practically wanted to cry. I was so tired, cold and my feet were soaking wet. It was really my low point on a mental level despite being so close to the high point of the trail.

There had been a few wind breaks created from the rocks nearby, so I took a brief rest behind one of them. If it was large enough to camp, I would have been happy to stop right then and there, but it was never intended for camping and definitely not large enough for even a small tent. No, I would have to push onward to Cross Fell and beyond.

Karolina looks for protection from the brutal winds in this windbreak on Little Dun Fell. That's Cross Fell in the background.

 

After the quick break, I continued hiking. Down off the peak we were on, then up the steep slope to Cross Fell which looked like it had a large plateau at the top.

At the top of the steep slope, I once again thought we were at the high point but once again found my spirits smashed when I realized that it was a false summit. The real summit still lie ahead, somewhere ahead. Fortunately, it was just the high point on the plateau and didn't require a steep climb to reach, but I still found it dispiriting. When would I ever reach Cross Fell?

But finally, late in the day, I reached it. Exhausted and tired. There was a windbreak at the summit, and I now stood at the official high point of the trail at 2930 feet (893 meters) above level. I took another short break before heading down the far side for a place to camp.

The windbreak at the top of Cross Fell was huge!

For camp, I had my eyes set on Greg's Hut, one of the few shelters on the trail. Given the hurricane-force winds at the top, I definitely wanted to reach Greg's Hut for the night and have some solid walls to protect me from the brutal wind.

It wasn't long before I could see the hut in the distance, far below the slope I was descending. Deep in the valley, it was already in shadow before I arrived, although the summits were still in the sun. Not for much longer, however, as the sun was setting rapidly.

At one point, I took a step on what I thought was solid ground, or at least marshy ground, but it wound up having this weird feeling of a waterbed. The ground itself looked solid, and I nearby fell when it wobbled unsteadily. My foot didn't plunge through, however, like it usually did in boggy areas--like mud that's a lot softer than you expected. The thick vegetation was enough to support my weight, but there was obviously nothing but water underneath it, and it quite literally felt like walking on top of a waterbed.

Luckily for me, I took the step with my good foot. I'm not sure my twisted ankle would have handled the unexpected wobble very well, but my momentum pushed me another couple of steps which, I'm happy to report, were back on solid ground. 

I finally made it the rest of the way to Greg's Hut without any further problems.

Greg's Hut was my destination for the night!

At the hut, a couple was already there who had set up their tent just outside. The wind wasn't so strong here anymore, but it was gusty and I was surprised that they hadn't chosen to sleep inside of the hut.  I definitely intended to do so, however, and it was a wonderful hut separated into two main rooms: a living room and a sleeping space with a wooden deck to sleep on.

There was a register in the shelter, which Bob had signed and left a note for me. He even signed it as "Bob Ross", the trailname I suggested for him looking like a young Bob Ross. Maybe it's a trailname that will stick?! =)

I'm signing the register inside the hut

 
The hut was located next to an old, abandoned mine. Tailings were piled high all over the area, and the hut was originally used by the miners before falling into disrepair. Later, when the Pennine Way was created, it was rebuilt into a hut that hikers could use and find protection from the elements.

Karolina had bought a pasta dinner back in Manchester that she planned to eat on the trail, but until now, she hadn't actually cooked anything at all. I didn't find a hardware store to buy the alcohol for the soda can stove until several days in the hike, and technically, open fires--including on my stove--weren't allowed in the backcountry. I might have tried using it despite the ban, but there was never really a good place or time for it. It was always too windy, or too wet, and inside of a tent seemed like a dangerous place to cook a meal. (Tarps definitely worked better for that purpose!) Plus, with all the restaurants  along the route, I didn't feel a strong need for a hot meal. And thus, Karolina had been carrying this pasta meal for the last two weeks.

But inside the hut seemed like a good place to finally cook it. It was on solid rock, which certainly wouldn't burn by accident, and I could finally use the fuel I'd been carrying. I didn't actually have any food that needed cooking, but Karolina took the opportunity to finally eat her pasta dinner.

Afterwards, realizing how little I was actually cooking meals, I decided to leave the rest of the fuel in the shelter. Others had left other items like partially used fuel canisters, wet wipes and other stuff--kind of like a hiker box without the box, so I decided to leave the fuel for the alcohol stove behind and lighten my load. Maybe someone else will get more use out of it than me. I was thrilled to lighten my load as well. =)

Thus ends another day on the trail....

High Cup Nick

Another view of High Cup Nick

An honesty box on the side of the road on theway into Dufton

Walking through Dufton

Day 14: May the Force Be With You

August 9, 2024: By morning, my ankle was still badly swollen and quite tender, but I had to suck it up and push onward. If I waited until it felt normal again, I'd probably have to quit the trail and return a month or two later! However, I will note that the ankle did seem slightly less painful than in previous days. It did seem to be feeling better, but I wasn't sure if that was because it really did feel better or if it was because my body had become numb to the constant pain.

In any case, I packed up my belongings. Just as I was ready to walk out the door, I realized that my Fitbit was missing, and I couldn't find it anymore. It wasn't under the bed, or behind the counter, or in the bathroom. I knew it was nearby, however, since I could still sync it on my phone, and I wondered if it somehow got mixed up and ended up in my pack. Rather than unpacking to look for it, I set my backpack on the bed and bounced it up and down for 10-15 seconds, then synced the Fitbit to see if it recorded any steps. It did! After carefully checking the bed and sheets to make sure my Fitbit wasn't mixed up in that and not finding it, I assumed it must have been somewhere in my pack.

With that taken care of, it was time to leave Middleton-in-Teesdale.

Goodbye, Middleton-in-Teesdale!

The weather looked gorgeous--sunny with a few, puffy white clouds to give the sky a little texture. However, the word of the day was windy! Good grief! The wind was strong and relentless, all day long. The fact that I was walking into it just made it worse. It was positively exhausting.

But other than the wind, it was absolutely beautiful weather. I also passed a multitude of scenic waterfalls that were swarming with day hikers. There was Low Force, and--not surprisingly--a High Force not far beyond it. Other waterfalls didn't have any name that I could find--or at least had not been mentioned in the guidebook. High Force apparently isn't the highest waterfall, or the biggest--but they claim it's the "highest unbroken fall of water in England." It seems carefully worded to be technically correct. But in any case the drop is 70 feet (21 meters), which does make it a relatively big waterfall and a nice sight to watch.

High Force

I actually enjoyed Low Force more since the viewing area for that was closer and it seemed to be a few waterfalls giving it more depth. Plus, the sunlight on it was considerably better. Both waterfalls (i.e. "forces") were nice, however, and both of them had day hikers crawling around them like ants on a piece of chocolate on a hot summer day.

After getting away from the hoards of people, the trail passed by a quarry, then alongside a very rocky shore of the river that was murder on my ankle. The rocky section wasn't long, but it felt like it lasted forever trying to get through. Then the trail followed up the side of another waterfall (unknown name) and past a dam before finally leaving the water and heading into hillier terrain.

Some sort of quarry

This late in the day, it was time to keep an eye open for a place to camp. The thunderous wind was a problem, however. The land was badly exposed and there seemed nowhere to get away from it. Even tents can be damaged in such strong winds, so I pushed onward looking for potential places to camp that might be protected from the brutal beating of the wind.

Ahead, in the guidebook, I saw a bridge that crossed a river, and thought maybe the bottom of that valley would provide a sheltered place from the wind (assuming, of course, it wasn't a wind funnel and the wind would be even worse!), but before I reached that point, there was a small fold in the ground. It was just a slight dip in the terrain where the wind miraculous dropped to a fraction of what it had been.

"Here," I said. "Let's camp here."

It wasn't completely protected from the wind, but at least it wasn't so strong that it would cause any trouble. The campsite wasn't ideal--a bit small and filled with sheep poop--but it was the least windy space I had seen in hours.  Maybe there was something better ahead, but I didn't want to risk it. A bird in the hand and all....

So I set up camp and called it a day. After unpacking my backpack, I also found my missing Fitbit. Hurray! =D

I took a break at every bench so I could to rest my ankle!

This rocky shoreline was murder on my ankle!

Low Force

Low Force

Low Force

High Force

If this waterfall has a name, I don't know it!