Heathrow Hikers - Outdoor Group for West London

Day 1 - Edale to Crowden
Day 2 - Crowden to Mankinholes
Day 3 - Mankinholes to Earby
Day 4 - Earby to Malham
Day 5 - Malham to Hawes
Day 6 - Hawes to Thwaite
Day 7 - Thwaite to High Force
Day 8 - High Force to Dufton
Day 9 - Dufton to Alston
Day 10 - Alston to Greenhead
Day 11 - Greenhead to Bellingham
Day 12 - Bellingham to Byrness
Day 13 - Byrness to Kirk Yetholm

I left very early on the Saturday morning to drive to Edale, the start point for the Pennine Way, stopping briefly at an outdoor shop to purchase a rucksack rain cover. Parking a short distance from Edale, I was at the Old Nag's Head pub just before noon.

The Pennine Way start point 'The Old Nag's Head' in Edale - Photo by Gary Box

The weather for the first day was mixed, light showers and blustery winds. I arrived at Jacob's Ladder, the first ascent of any note, in no time at all. Indeed I was making great progress for much of the day and was fully expecting to arrive in Crowden as 'fresh as a daisy'.

Jacob's Ladder - Photo by Gary Box

Then things began to get boggy and the path seemed to die out, slowing me down and sapping energy. Time seemed to tick by and my destination still seemed some way off. Finally Torside Reservoir came into view below and I knew I would soon be at the hostel. It was at this point that I realised that I'd lost my mobile phone and along with it the contact numbers of many friends. I finally arrived at Crowden hostel at 7pm, too late to order the evening meal, hungry and with very sore feet. After a quick shower I ate a packet pasta meal I had in my rucksack and chatted to a cyclist who was also self catering. He kindly offered to call my mobile operator from his phone so that I could put a block on the phone.

By 11pm I was feeling tired and decided to head for bed.

After a hearty hostel breakfast it was time to refill my water bladder and set off for what would be a long day. The staff at Crowden hostel had been really friendly and helpful but the hostel itself did not make any impression on me, a bland building with no personality.

Early on the 2nd day I arrived at Black Hill, well known amongst those that do the Pennine Way as somewhere quite boggy. I sank to my knees at one point and became very demoralised that I was in for a tough day.

With Black Hill behind me things improved. As the Pennine Way crossed the A635 I noticed a parked snack van doing great business. I took the opportunity to eat a sausage and egg bap washed down with a can of pop.

The route from here was quite easy and flat as it passed reservoirs. I met up with another guy doing the Pennine Way and walked with him until the route crossed the A62. At this point he turned left for his farmhouse accommodation. I continued on, still some miles to cover before I could rest my feet. Late in the day I found myself crossing a bridge over the M62 motorway. It felt strange to see the cars rushing under my feet, the contrast to the relative solitude of the rest of the day could not be more marked.

One of the next roads I was to come to was the A58 Rochdale to Halifax road. It was at the White House pub near Blackstone Edge reservoir that I met another guy doing the Pennine Way. He planned to camp most of the way and we walked together to his wild camp location just a couple of miles before my destination. I then passed The Aiggin Stone, a mediaeval guide stone for travellers that is 600 years old. With views of Stoodley Pike monument in the distance, I dropped down to my hostel at Mankinholes. It was 7:30pm when I finally arrived, my feet again were really sore. My first impressions of the hostel were good, a lovely old building with good facilities and cosy lounge.

I took a quick shower, cooked myself a meal, and hand washed some clothes before hanging them in the drying room. The rest of the evening I took the weight off my tired feet until I felt sleepy enough to retire to my bunk.

After a quick breakfast, I packed my rucksack and filled the water bladder. Most of my clothes had dried but the fleece was still damp. I left the hostel at 9:15am and began the long walk to Earby. Stoodley Pike Memorial loomed in the distance and as I got closer it became apparent just how big it was. Over 100 feet high, this Napoleonic war memorial is actually quite recent, the original having been destroyed by lightning in the 1950's. The monument seems to be popular with the blue side of Manchester with MAN CITY being daubed over it.

Stoodley Pike Memorial - Photo by Gary Box

The weather on day 3 was more varied than the past couple of days. Showers were more regular, one of them heavy with 40 minutes of hail which was quite demoralising. Once I crossed the A646 the route began to zig-zag and navigation became more difficult. This section was also steep and progress slow. An easier section followed as I passed yet more reservoirs. I was becoming quite fond of reservoirs, knowing that when they appeared on my map it would mean flat, easy terrain. Reaching Ponden, I lengthened my stride knowing I still had a large distance to cover.

Some of the signposts began to tell me I was in Brontë country. At just after 3pm I reached Top Withens Ruins. These farmhouse ruins have a plaque on them, placed by the Brontë Society which reads,

'This farmhouse has been associated with "Wuthering Heights," the Earnshaw home in Emily Brontë's novel. The buildings, even when complete, bore no resemblence to the house she described, but the situation may have been in her mind when she wrote of the moorland setting of the heights'.

Top Withens Ruins - Photo by Gary Box

Up until now, all sheep I had encountered had been nervous of people but the sheep at the ruins were different. Whenever they saw sign of human life they would come to say hello, moving especially quickly if they heard the rustle of sweet wrappers.

At 4pm I had reached Ponden reservoir, just as the heavens opened for another quick shower. It was also at this time that I realised I had lost my mapcase and with it my map for that day. I began to wonder if this run of bad luck would continue throughout the whole trip. As the day wore on the weather improved. The evening light was really amazing, I only wish I had more time to stop and take photographs but alas, I had to press on.

Finally, reaching a stile I saw a very welcome site, two signposts, one stated 'Pennine Way' the other 'YHA'. That final mile or so seemed to take forever, my tired feet trudging in the front door at 9:15pm. The boots were removed with as much speed as I could manage. Earby hostel did not serve food or have a shop. It was also too late to order from the pub so I would have to be dig deep inside my rucksack for the last packet pasta meal. The volunteer warden also lent me some spaghetti and we chatted about a range of subjects as I ate. I learned that Earby hostel was to close later that year, much against the wishes of the local people. It seems there is some dispute about whether the YHA can sell the building since it was donated to them by Katherine Bruce Glasier, a founder member of the Independent Labour Party who lived in the building from 1922 until her death in 1950.

After taking a shower I went to bed, very tired and very sore.

The original plan for day 4 was to walk to Horton-in-Ribblesdale, a distance of 24 miles. This plan had to change, there was no way I could do this the way my feet were feeling. Having not eaten properly the evening before, I headed to Morgan's café for a cooked breakfast. I was joined there by two of my hostel companions, local cyclists who were in training for the Coast to Coast later that summer.

With most of the morning past I joined the Pennine Way again, soon finding myself walking alongside the Leeds and Liverpool canal. The brightly coloured canal boats looked their best in the bright sunshine. On such a long walk like the Pennine Way you really notice how the scenery and terrain changes. At around 2pm I had arrived at the village of Gargrave and decided to stop in the Dalesman café for lunch. Whilst waiting for my meal I studied the antique advertising posters that cover much of the interior. Outside where a group of cyclists gathered there was a sign telling me I had covered 70 miles since Edale but still had a whopping 186 to go until Kirk Yetholm!

Pennine Way sign outside Dalesman café, Gargrave - Photo by Gary Box

After lunch I began my walk again, immediately crossing a bridge over the canal. A signpost told me the distances to Blackburn, Liverpool, Skipton, Leeds and most importantly Malham, only 5 3/4 miles away. Under normal circumstances the route from Gargrave to Malham would be a stroll but I hobbled every step, finally arriving at Malham youth hostel just before 6pm.

After buying some food from the hostel shop I began to cook, adding too much chilli powder to my meal, causing my eyes to water. Having enjoyed a shower I washed some clothes and began to decide how I would get back on schedule for my walk. The map revealed that there was no accommodation between Horton and Hawes so I began to prepare myself mentally for what would be a mammoth day 5. I asked Malham hostel to book a place at Hawes and went to bed, praying I would feel fit in the morning.

I woke up feeling quite fresh, the weather forecast looked good but I was still dreading the long walk to Hawes. Leaving Malham hostel at 8:30am I was soon at Malham Cove, climbing steeply before the gentle descent to Malham Tarn. Wherever possible I sought out grassy paths, my feet could not cope with rocks and stones.

Reaching an area called Fountains Fell I noticed a sign warning you to stick to the path as the area contained many disused mine shafts. About 1 km further on at around noon, I reached a large cairn and stopped for a quick break.

My next aim was to reach the summit of Pen-y-Ghent in good time. In the warm weather the steep climb was hard work and I was pleased to finally reach the top at 1:45pm.

Pen-y-Ghent summit - Photo by Gary Box

The path down from the summit to Horton-in-Ribblesdale was hard on my already painful feet. The Pen-y-Ghent café was a welcome site and I stopped for a meal. I was asked if I was doing the Pennine Way by the guy behind the counter. When I confirmed I was he asked me to sign their book, giving name, address and the date you started the Pennine Way. My limp was quite obvious and they used this as an opportunity to try and sell me a pair of Sorbothanes. I'd wished I'd purchased these before I began the walk and was delighted to hear they sold them. Then the bad news......... they had sold a huge number over the weekend and had none left in my size. I left soon after, eager to keep as good a pace as possible.

I began to tire, Long Gill came and went. The views before me were those of the rolling hills of Wensleydale, my own shadow lengthening as the day wore on.

Views near Wensleydale - Photo by Gary Box

Finally Hawes came into view and after a long descent, I arrived at the hostel at 9:30pm. It had been an extremely long and tiring day. I barely had the energy to shower, eat a flapjack, and drink some fluids before I cleaned my teeth and went straight to bed.

The original plan for day 6 was an easy trek from Kawes to Keld hostel. Unfortunately there were no spaces at Keld, it being a popular location as it is on both the Pennine Way and The Coast to Coast. Looking at my map it seemed the only other place beyond Keld was The Tan Hill Inn but their prices were beyond my budget.

I began my walk unsure of where I would be spending the night. Since Hawes was the largest town I'd come to so far I took the opportunity to go shopping. After a quick visit to the Resource Centre to suft the net, I popped into Cunningham Outdoor where an attractive blonde sold me a pair of Sorbathane insoles for £5.00. A quick trip to the Spar for drinks and flapjacks and I was ready to meet the day.

It was obvious from the outset that my feet had not recovered from yesterday and even with the new cushioned insoles every step was agony. Once I reached Great Shunner Fell I stopped to rest my feet and got chatting to a couple from Wakefield. The wife kindly offered to take my photo.

Gary at Great Shunner Fell - Photo submitted by Gary Box

The route down to the village of Thwaite was hard and stoney, I was cursing aloud and at my lowest point so far. Once I'd arrived in Thwaite I showed pity on my feet and stopped at the Kearton Country Hotel for something to eat. I enjoyed my meal but at the back of my mind was the nagging worry about where to stop that night. Since I'd lost my mobile phone I used the phonebox in the village and called my girlfriend Jen to ask her to check on B&B's in Keld. The news was bad....... nothing in Keld but she was able to suggest The Kearton Country Hotel in Thwaite! I laughed and said I could see the place she meant but that it looked expensive.

I made my way to reception and asked if they had any rooms. I was delighted to be told that they had rooms at £29.50 for bed and breakfast. My heart lifted, and payment made I trudged up to my room. It would mean a much tougher day tomorrow but I simply had to rest.

Kearton Country Hotel in Thwaite - Photo by Gary Box

The room was great, a double bed, good views and a decent shower (a bath was too much to ask for). Since the simple act of standing was painful I crashed into bed. This felt like a critical point of the trip, I was not confident how my body would feel in the morning, the thought of seeing Jen the next evening was the only positive thought in my mind.

After a hearty breakfast of cereal, full English followed by toast and marmalade I was ready to start day 7. The weather was the hottest I'd experienced so far, sun screen applied I began my walk.

As soon as I left the hotel a photographer approached me. He worked for a magazine and wanted me to walk through the village a couple of times so he could take my photo. I felt like pointing out that I had over 20 miles to cover and didn't have time for this but since it would only take a few minutes I obliged. Photoshoot over I headed for Keld. Yesterday's short day and a really good sleep meant I was able to set a really good pace, the quickest so far.

With Keld behind me I began to head for the highest pub in Britain, the Tan Hill Inn at 1732ft. I arrived at 11:30 and rewarded myself with a pint of orange juice and lemonade, sitting outside in the sunshine. That first pint was consumed rather quickly so I purchased a second, along with three chocolate bars that would have to see me through until the evening. Whilst outside the pub I got chatting to a couple of cyclists, heading for Blackton Youth Hostel. They talked about being attacked by nesting curlews and lapwings.

Tan Hill Inn - Photo by Gary Box

Leaving the pub the terrain was flat for miles and progress was good. The ground was a little boggy in placed but nothing to compare to the first couple of days. It was about this time that I was attacked by nesting birds, swooping to within an inch of my head. Crossing under a road by the subway I was soon heading to Blackton Youth Hostel and I decided to stop to check my foot which was sore. I was shocked and devasted to find that I had a blister the size of a 50p coin, the skin totally removed! Immediately I knew that there was no way I would be able to complete the walk in 12 days, indeed I was worried that I might not be able to complete it at all.

A compeed apllied, the remainder of the route to High Force was slow, hobbling most of it. As the shadows lengthened, I approached Middleton and finally felt like I was on the 'home run' for that day. The last section followed the River Tees, I finally arrived at the High Force Hotel at 9:15pm, dejected and sorry for myself. Jen did her best to cheer me up and after a quick meal, a shower, massage and running repairs to my foot, I felt a little better. I went to bed fearful that this would be the end of my walk.

After a cooked breakfast Jen and I were ready to begin our walk. My feet were still causing me problems but I wanted to try to complete another day at least. Before really getting started Jen and I had to look for a geocache that was close to High Force.

Jen at High Force - Photo by Gary Box

Once found we could begin our walk for real, making slow progress to Langdon Beck. I was having to make frequent stops, taking my boots and socks off and spraying my feet with a cold spray in an attempt to relieve the pain. The next major feature on our route was Cauldron Snout.

Cauldron Snout - Photo by Gary Box

It was a beautiful day, if anything too hot, I was beginning to get a really good tan on this epic walk. At 6pm we reached High Cup Nick, the scene before us looked rather different to when we had last seen it on my birthday weekend, when it was covered in snow. I rested at the top while Jen descended into the deep valley to look for another geocache.

Jen found the cache quickly and we both began the slow walk down to the village of Dufton, the landscape now bathed in a beautiful evening light.

View from Dufton - Photo by Gary Box

Finally we arrived at our B&B, I was barely able to walk. After a quick change of clothes we both headed to the pub for our evening meal. I was feeling really low, convinced that I was now doing permanent damage to my feet.

Once back at the B&B we were again greeted by our hosts, Ray and Frei, who had kindly prepared aa foot care pack. Jen immediately got to work, preparing a foot spa for me whilst she took a bath. This was the first place on the Pennine Way where I could take a bath. Lying in the hot water with the weight off my feet, I almost felt revived. However as soon as I began the walk from the bathroom to the bedroom the shooting pains began again. A foot massage with fancy creams followed before I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke on day 9 still sore but much improved from the previous day. After putting some weight on my feet I decided I wanted to risk another day. Our hosts at Hall Croft B&B, Ray and Frei, prepared a great vegetarian breakfast for Jen and I. Ray was a fell runner and recommended that I consider using trainers on the rest of the walk. Unfortunately I did not have any spare footwear as I was trying to travel as light as possible.

Having made the decision to continue, Ray gave me his number and suggested I give him a call after an hour if I was in trouble and he would come and get me. We said goodbye to our hosts, Jen deciding to walk the first mile or two with me.

Eventually it was time to say goodbye to Jen. It was tough and I became quite emotional. There was no doubt in my mind that Jen had joined me at a critical time for this trip. Without her it was entirely likely that I would have had to stop. She'd even brought me up a cheap mobile phone to replace the one I'd lost on day 1 so that I could keep in contact.

As Jen turned back to Appleby to catch a train I tried to focus and continued on. Luckily it was a cooler day as I limped my way up to Great Dun Fell and the distinctive large 'Golf Ball' that sits on it. A little further on I reached a shelter with Cross Fell in the distance and stopped to take a photo. Cross Fell is the highest point of the whole Pennine Way at 897 metres.

With Cross Fell behind me I began to descend a hard stoney path and the soles of my feet began to cause me problems again. My pace began to slow with me reaching Greg's Hut around 4pm. Greg's Hut is a bothy, a basic shelter from which to escape the elements outside and grab a hot drink or some rest. Since I still had distance to cover I continued on but it looked as though the bothy was occupied.

Greg's Hut - Photo by Gary Box

By this time I'd decided to stop early in Garrigil, Alston just seemed too far in my current condition. Much to my annoyance both B&B's were full and the local pub no longer provided accommodation. Feeling low I trudged on to Alston, arriving too late for dinner. I bought a tin of soup and a pot noodle from the hostel shop and headed to the kitchen. I met a guy called Jed who was also doing the Pennine Way who ha noticed me hobbling. Talking to Jed gave me some encouragement, he too had suffered blisters, much earlier on the Pennine Way and he had recovered enough to continue! Maybe I would be able to finish this after all.

Jed advised I stop at Greenhead hostel the next night, something that made a lot of sense. My blister was even bigger, too big for a compeed. Luckily Alston was a decent sized town, a trip to the Chemist would be priority number one on day 10.

As the walk began to enter the home straight I was finding it increasingly difficult to get up early in the morning. Whilst I found myself in a large town I decided to visit the local chemist. They seemed totally uninterested in customer service and seemed medically clueless. I decided to buy some Menolin dressings and headed to a store to buy some sports drinks and cereal bars.

Quite early on my day's walk I met with Kevin, a preacher from Sheffield who was also doing the Pennine Way. He had stayed the previous night in Garrigil. We decided to walk together, chatting about our experiences so far. The scenery on this stretch of the Pennine Way was nothing special so it was good to have someone to chat to.

We stopped in a pub in Knaresdale for a drink. It was an unhurried day, and the afternoon ticked on by. By 6pm we had reached our destination, Greenhead hostel (another earmarked for closure I understand). I met Kevin's wife who was walking some days and using public transport on others.

After a quick shower I sat down to eat with Kevin and his wife at the hostel. Also at the dinner table was an older man who was walking from Lands End to John O'Groats. He was an interesting person to talk to, it seemed he had or wanted to walk all the long distance paths in the UK.

With dinner out of the way I decided to catch up on some washing before walking across the road to the pub for a well earned Guinness. I also took the opportunity to call some relatives to let them know how I was before hitting the sack.

I left Greenhead hostel at 9:30am to start hiking part of Hadrian's Wall, a very undulating section of the wall at that. It was actually quite hard work in the intense heat. Before reaching Housesteads at turret 37A the Pennine Way and Hadrian's Wall split, the Pennine Way heading north through Wark forest. In parts the ground was boggy. I passed Kevin and his wife in the forest who had left Greenhead earlier than me. They too had booked to stay in Bellingham so I bid them a temporary goodbye.

The heat of the day was beginning to take its toll, with still 5 miles to my destination I finished the last of my water. Without water I was beginning to flag and I was pleased to see the village in the distance. It took an age to reach the road, and it was with great relief that I found a caravan park shop that was open. After raiding the fridge of drinks I set about finding the Youth Hostel. Bellingham is yet another earmarked to close, it reminded me a little of a scout hut, basic but does the job. I was greeted by the warden, a keen cyclist who was very helpful. The only other person there was a guy from the US who was exploring the UK. After a quick shower I returned to the village Co-op to buy my evening meal and a breakfast for the morning.

Sometime later, Kevin and Maria arrived, they too had run out of water. It had been a tough day and I decided to head to bed.

It was past 10am before I left Bellingham, I was in no hurry since this would be an easier day. Making my way uphill, progress was good, though the scenery was rather bland. I passed some other Pennine Way walkers and a local guy who was on his way back to Bellingham after an early morning walk to Whitley Pike. When I reached the forest the path became steep and boggy, somewhat energy sapping. Views of the forest remained for the rest of the day.

At 6pm I'd almost arrived and when I saw a cafe connected to a petrol station I decided to stop for my evening meal. Also eating in the cafe was a young guy from the Peak District who I got chatting to. He was walking from John O'Groats to Lands End for charity and was also staying at Byrness.

The hostel was basically 2 joined terraced houses, somewhat dated but a welcome base for a tired hiker. I ordered a large packed lunch for the following morning, explaining I planned on leaving at 6am. The hostel warden wished me well and warned me to be careful of adders!

Kevin and Maria arrived soon after and we swapped email addresses. They had planned to break up the remainder of the walk into two days, I wanted this to be over and felt fit enough for one final hard day. The remainder of my evening was spent washing some clothes and making telephone calls.

I was up by 6:00am for my final day of the Pennine Way. After a quick breakfast I set off, gaining height as the views opened out. The ground was a somewhat soft in places and early in my route I managed to sink to beyond my knees in a bog. My mood began to sink, I had well over 20 miles to cover and was now covered in mud.

It was another scorching day, I felt certain I would need all of the water I was carrying. The good thing about the heat was the fact it seemed to dry the mud on my trousers and slowly flake off.

Before too long I arrived at the first of two mountain rescue huts. It contained a couple of benches, candles, matches and some food supplies. I decided it was a good place to escape from the sun for a while and get my thoughts together. Unfortunately within 5 minutes a couple of other hikers turned up, sat outside the hut and chatted about work! My peace and tranquility broken I signed the register in the hut and left.

The Cheviots looked great bathed in the summer sun but I was not in the mood to stop and take photos, I simply wanted to reach the finish. I felt myself beginning to flag, my pace slowing gradually as the sun began to cast longer shadows. In the distance I could see the second mountain hut which lifted the spirits as I was now nearing the end. I stopped at the hut to take a rest, finally emerging 30 minutes later after having signed the register.

My feet were now really sore but my legs seemed to carry me mile after mile as if on autopilot. Finally, as the path veered west I could see Kirk Yetholm. One of the first houses I reached was sporting the cross of St. Andrew, at some point I had crossed the border into Scotland. As I reached the village green I noticed boards up at the Border Hotel, it looked odd but all I was interested in at that moment was reaching the hostel and taking my boots off. Finally I'd arrived, relieved that it was all over. I could barely walk up the stairs to my room and then spent 20 minutes sitting in the shower with the water pouring over me.

After a quick change of clothes I was ready to get something to eat and perhaps claim my free pint from the Border Hotel. It was then I discovered that the Border Hotel had partially burnt down the day before and I would not be eating there, or indeed claiming my free pint! I was devasted, there was nothing else open in town and I was starving. There was only one thing left to do, drag my tired body to the next town, Town Yetholm, in the hope of eating there. My luck was out, the pub had recently stopped taking orders for the evening. I bought a Guinness and some crisps and chocolate bars, spending the time chatting to a couple of locals.

I felt I needed to lay down so said goodbye, walking back to my hostel bed at Kirk Yetholm. Sharing the dorm with me was the American who I'd met at Bellingham and a friend of Kevin's who had driven up from the Peak District to meet him the following day. The conversation flowed until we all agreed that it was time to turn the lights out and get some sleep. I would have to get up early to catch two buses and then a train back to Edale where my car was parked.

It had been an adventure, something that will stay with me for years to come, perhaps forever. I'd met some interesting people, but also had moments of total isolation when I was able to think about people important to me, especially my Mum who was the main inspiration for the walk in the first place. Despite the blisters and the pain it had been worth it for so many reasons.