It's in The Book: Pennine Way Closing Report

Day Nineteen, Byrness to Kirk Yetholm (Scotland): 26.1 miles

So, yep, it's in The Book -- The Pennine Way Completion Book, that is, at the Border Hotel in Kirk Yetholm, Scotland!  Last night before dinner we annotated our journey in the official book -- and looked for the names of fellow hikers we met along the way.  We found Gary, the English gentleman walking for the MS cause.  He completed on his 60th birthday as planned (in 15 days!).   Judith and Nigel Cribb, walking for the Royal Marsden Hospital (where Judith received treatment and care for breast cancer) completed in 18 days (without a rest day).  Sue and Les (who we met in the Northern Section) will wrap up in 22 days this afternoon (also walking without a rest day) and sign in tonight. 

Over the last 19 (17 walking) days we've walked a total of 270+ miles, stayed in 17 different hotels, guest homes and B&Bs, experienced a range of meteorologic conditions (most of them wet), traipsed up and down fells, through countless pastures (and even more countless bogs), ambled along grassy paths and endured many a stony trail (with the occasional rock scramble thrown in for excitement).  We've crossed streams on bridges, rocks, lain wood and with giant oomph-ing jumps (for me anyway) -- and walked around and through more sheep and cow manure than one can even begin to imagine.  We've also enjoyed a much-needed news break and the company of one another in a way that only emerges in the absence of others and the presence of a common challenge.  We've collected rocks (only two this time), photos and memories -- and left only footprints.  The experience has been almost magical for me in the way that time ticked by only in relation to miles on the trail.  And, we have accomplished the mission set in 2015!  We are Pennine Way walkers!

The Pennine Way is a long and demanding walk.  On the best of days, the scenery was breathtaking and we had pull ourselves away from the views.  On the most weather-challenged days, the walk became an endurance event, where we hurried along to stay warm and to reach a dry place for the night!  The Pennine Way has many fewer walkers than the Coast-to-Coast and it is really no wonder.  Besides being longer by some 80 miles, it takes walkers through vast remote areas along the rugged terrain that defines the spine of England.  Because we felt there were days of the Coast-to-Coast that were too easy and short, we decided to take on longer days on the Pennine Way,  Our daily average walking days came out to about about 16 miles/day.  We also determined the value of the rest day (essential for us as laundry days because we carried only enough socks for each of the three legs of the walk) and were very happy for the two: One in Hawes (Yorkshire Dales) and a second in Alston (Cumbria).

As on the Coast-to-Coast, we met delightful people all along the way (although many more on our overnights than on the mostly solitary PW trail).  The best of the best of lodging for this trip includes: both rest day stops: Cocketts Inn in Hawes (best meal of the entire trip) and The Lowbyer Manor in Alston (where kindness and accommodation rule); the Butt House in Keld where Chris and Jacqui get everything right and are all about the walkers, and the Riverview B&B in Hebden Bridge, again where the proprietress made all the difference (best breakfast of the trip) with kindness and accommodation as her guiding values.

In parting as a thank you to beautiful England and her wonderful inhabitants, were it in our power we would gift the following luxuries:

1. Switchbacks (in this country, every hill path is STRAIGHT UP/DOWN HILL)
2. King-sized beds -- or at least beds slightly more fitted to the human frame (I ache for those as long-limbed as Cliff and I for every short and narrow bed on which we slept)
3. Single-spigot bathroom sink faucets (how on earth does one merge the two for temperate water when hot and cold pour separately?)
4. Key cards for rooms (despite the charm of the skeleton key, there seems no way to manage the clatter of entry and exit (and all lodgers suffer noise)
5. Suitable reading lights (nothing more to say here)
6. Finally, economy of words: Why on earth would one say, "Shall I bring it through?" When "Shall I bring it?" asks the same question while simultaneously eliminating the horror of ending a sentence with a preposition?  Alas, English was their language first . . . 

I'll close with just a few photos from the final two days with captions to serve as commentary.  Thanks for following along with us.  It has been a wonderful adventure.

First photo set is from Day Eighteen, Bellingham to Byrness (a dry and mostly sunny day with among the easiest paths of the entire walk).  Also our fastest walking day: 16.7 miles in 5.5 hours.  It's also the only day we've seen non-domesticated large mammals: fox and deer!

Not a tombstone, actually a Pennine Way marker in a pasture above Bellingham

Easy walking trail between sheep fields

Walking a forestry trail

Church yard in Byrness (two perspectives)

And just one photo from our final walking day, the 26 miles from Byrness to Kirk Yetholm: Funny, more than once our decision to fold the last two days into one was met with, "You're doing all the Cheviots in a single go?"  Although it was a very long day, our spirits were lifted knowing that at the end, we would be not have to don wet boots and clammy gear for the finale.  Happiness!

The only photo from our final day walking, from the top of Byrness Hill.  Within minutes, our wet weather gear was on and we were buttoned down for the day.

Stayed Tuned . . . We're Going All the Way!

Day 18 Bellingham to Byrness, 16.7 miles

On Tuesday we'll detail the routes for today and tomorrow.  We've just made the decision to walk into Kirk Yetholm tomorrow (combining our last two mileage days into one).  It will be our longest and hardest day -- and we're going for it.  Send best energy for good weather and happy feet across the Cheviots as we cross into Scotland.  Twenty-six miles and counting down . . .

Sunshine and Wall Crossings

Day 17, Greenhead to Bellingham: 16.8 miles

Can I get a Hallelujah?  SUNSHINE.  And we mean with every passing mile there were fewer clouds and more sunshine throughout the day.  It was a beautiful walking day with loads of fabulous views, a little (in relative terms very little) bit of bog and a very pleasant encounter on a very old sheep farm (circa 1700).

So, instead of lots of jabber for today's blog, I'm going to share sunny photos and one short story.

Starting the morning back on Hadrian's Wall, under clearing skies

Hints of blue and lovely Wall views

Happy blogger: Sunshine is a comin'

Heather and grasses growing atop the Wall

Sycamore Gap (tree is a local celebrity as it apparently is seen in Kevin Costner's Robin Hood)

 And now, an abbreviated study in ways to cross (or pass through) a proper English Wall:

Stone stile

Gate pass-through (one of many latch options

The kissing gate

Ladder stile

Two-step plank stile

Finally, best story of the day: At one kissing gate, we encountered two determinedly lovesick horses who simply refused us passage (Cliff has these photos).  As the horses took to licking the fence posts and nuzzling Cliff's GPS, we sought an alternative route to continue our walk.  Having just about 100 yards back greeted a sheep farmer who hailed us with, "It's only 50 miles to Kirk Yetholm now," we backtracked and requested permission to travel through his yard to regain our route.  That chance encounter opened a delightfully animated and enjoyable conversation with the farmer, Jamie, and his wife, Mandy.  It seems Mandy had just returned from Portland Oregon, where she was visiting her daughter and her brand new grandchild.  Jamie and Mandy both are walkers and when Jamie was 23, he walked (ran?) the 50 miles to Kirk Yeholm in a day!  In a tiny space of time we talked ecology and progressive living, taxes, politics and culture.  It makes me wish everyone could travel somewhere different and meet someone new this year.  We really are more alike than we are different -- and if that isn't a bridge-building concept well suited to increase understanding and empathy among human-kind, I don't know what is!

Cliff approaching Bellingham -- our destination for the day

So, we have just three walking days remaining.  My greatest wish is that today's weather holds.  And no matter the weather: We'd still rather be walking.

Two Hundred Miles and Counting

Day 16, Greenhead to Once Brewed, 8.5 miles

Hadrian's Wall just outside of Greenhead

This was the shortest day of our entire walk (still enough to trip the odometer to 200+), designed to allow us time to explore a bit of Hadrian's Wall -- the nearly 2,000 year-old wall that at one time spanned the northern neck of England.  While most of the wall now is gone (through dereliction, decay and outright pilfering to build other castle-like structures through the years), what remains fills the imagination with Roman soldiers standing watch in the high turrets that gave them views across the Cheviots of Scotland.  And of army units standing ready at the mile-castles to assemble and repel any enemy.  From this this vantage point, we also can look back and see the profile of Cross Fell (our trekking defeated foe) looming in the midst.

It was an up-and-down day as we followed the wall along the cliffs and crags on which it was so brilliantly constructed.  A formidable defensive vantage point, the wall was built some 12-feet thick and 14-feet high with turrets, towers and forts to house Roman soldiers all along the way.  Begun in 122AD and completed in just 16 years, it's hard not to think to of the harsh conditions and considerable manpower (and inevitable loss) that framed the impressive result.

The tiny dot is Cliff headed up yet another crag along Hadrian's Wall

The pictures aren't great from today -- again because weather drove our cameras back into our packs when we stopped to don waterproofs, which has become the norm.

Before I packed my camera, I was somewhat captivated by the view of these two lonely trees on a pasture hilltop.  We had a brief discussion today about the walk and how to characterize it.  We agree it is a ONCE in a lifetime trip.  Meaning mostly that it is something we would not repeat even if the very best of weather were a temptress.  After all, there are others trails in other lands . . ..  Still, it is hard for me not to wonder  what my two lovely trees may look like on a sunny day.

Tonight we are in the town of Twice Brewed.  And it's worth repeating the story of how the town got it's name.  Apparently workers in the 1800s found the ale at the Inn too weak, and demanded it be brewed a second time (hence, twice-brewed).  Somewhat humorously, a widow running the local youth hostel early in the 20th Century determined her establishment would not serve intoxicating beverages of any kind, earning the hostel the name Once Brewed, which like the town's monniker, has endured with good humor.

Tonight, we dine in the Twice-Brewed Inn!  Tomorrow, we return to the wall, then head north towards Scotland!

New and Unusual Sightings!

Day15 Alston to Greenhead: 16.7 miles

Take a rest, a field that has rested gives a beautiful crop.  ~Ovid

But first, a Day 14 Update:  No, you didn't miss Day 14.  I chose not to blog on our second and final rest day (in Alston).  It was, however, another perfectly peaceful rest day.  We ate a late breakfast, bought pasties from the Moody Baker in Alston for lunch, read, napped and chatted with our hostess at the Lowbyer Manor Country House to pass the day.  We both agree the physical rest as well as the mental boost of knowing a rest day is coming has been great for us.  Yep, we traded in some shorter days for breaks, but even the longest day and toughest day felt just that much more do-able knowing the rest day just ahead signaled the end of another small bite of the overall trek. And, we returned to the trail today with energy for the final push!  

Cliff enjoying a sunny lunch break

So, back to Day 15 -- it was notable in many ways for what was new and different -- starting with the SUNSHINE!  For the first time in many (many) days we saw our shadows.  Now, who knew that could be such a kick?

We also walked for a while this morning on a mud- and rock-free path!  I know this sounds highly unbelievable at this point -- and later in the day we would payback this luxury in spades as we navigated the BeckinSOPp Commons (intentional emphasis on the sop), where the muck threatened to steal our boots and our feet recalled the squishy wet of the Cross Fell day.  However, our morning walk alongside South Tyne Train Line (a single track wonder) was a welcome respite; and we hustled along happily at our training pace, crossing quickly into our next (and final) county to traverse in England before we pass into Scotland: Northumberland.

The first half of the seven-hour walking day was pretty wonderful as we passed beautiful old viaducts, crossed rushing streams with dry feet and admired the continuing abundance of spring lamb in the rolling fields.  And as we entered the muck along the trace of the Roman Maidens Road, we maintained some hope that soon the magical slabs of stone would appear to save us from the worst of the bog.  Alas, the few slabs that were in place were completely submerged -- and by the time we hit the Common, slabs were but a distant memory.  Finally, we gave up our attempts to hop from reed tussock to tussock and trudged through the worst of it -- giggling at the steamy unseemliness of this very unusual day.  Thank goodness, the Greenhead Hotel had a terrific drying room to resuscitate our boots overnight!

And for a final unusual sighting:  Moles on the fence.

  

English farm trivia:  The appearance of dead moles strung along the top of fence wire is a bit bizarre and macabre.  Unusual to American eye for sure, but not so much to the English farmer.  So why are they there?  It seems there are a few theories.  The one most reported in the English news is that the "mole hunters" (I kid you not) tie them there as proof of their (the hunters') productivity -- and to help the farmer to quantify the extent of his or her rodent problem!

And with that odd thought, I bid you g'night!

It's This Simple . . .

Day 13, Dufton to Alston: 20 miles

The route description: This is the longest and the toughest day on the Pennine Way . . . In clear weather, this is a splendid stage, climbing high and staying high, enjoying wide ranging views.  However, these hills hold the English record for bad weather.  ~ Paddy Dillon, The Pennine Way

The weather forecast: Persistent and heavy rain (this came true, except in times of sleet).

The view from Cross Fell (the high point on the Pennine Way at 2930 feet);

OK, so this is really a white wall, but at the reduced visibility we had today, the picture is spot on!

All that mattered once we got hot showers and dry clothes:

Trekker's sports drink -- It was a heck of a day

We are well: Tired and a little achy, wondering if we're crazy . . . but well.  This evening starts our second (and final rest day).  G'night from Alston in Cumbria!

More Than Halfway Now!

High Force Falls on the River Tees

An early morning selfie (yikes)

Day Twelve, High Force to Dufton: 16.5 miles

167 miles down!!  After ending yesterday's walk with a look at the Low Force Falls, we started today with a stop at the falls at High Force for a couple of pictures.  Funny, I don't think I mentioned the weather yesterday, which was notable because it was DRY ALL DAY!  This morning, we had our waterproofs off and on and off again within the first three miles (much more typical). 

Despite the weather, this was my favorite trail day so far.  It was fun walking in variable (and mostly windy) weather across some beautiful and intriguing terrain.  We started out following the River Tees for about four miles (passing the falls and enjoying glimpses of the water all along).  This is a lovely, lively river course with multiple smaller falls and rapids all along the way.

The perspective here fails to illustrate the truly straight-up climb along the Cauldron's Snout!

At one point, we rock-hopped for a couple of miles just below cliffs that are home to many birds of prey before taking a heart-pumping scramble up the cauldron's snout -- a bubbling rushing constriction of the River Tees just below a reservoir.

And in the afternoon, before our descent into Dufton, we experienced the marvel of the High Cup Nick.  We've had more than one Brit tell us that they consider the "nick" to be the most beautiful sight along all the Pennine Way.  And, while we didn't see it in full sunshine, the specter of the incredible cleft cut in the high plain, with terrific limestone cliffs on each side was quite impressive.  For me, the real joy of this day is what hiking is all about: Much (most) of what we saw today is inaccessible by motor vehicles.  The only way to experience the views is to approach on foot -- and that makes it so worth the effort.

High Cup Nick

It's been a rocky trail day so we have some tired and achy feet as we prepare for tomorrow and our ascent of Cross Fell, the highest point along the Pennine Way.  We'll report out tomorrow from Alston.

I Think We're Alone Now

I think we're alone now
There doesn't seem to be anyone around
I think we're alone now
The beating of our hearts is the only sound
~Tommy James and the Shondells

Day Eleven, Bowes to high Force, 17.9 miles

The quietest of days are upon us now on the trail.  All of our early walking company is gone: Nigel decided to head home from Malham (yet to complete his sixth full circuit and choosing to return in better weather) Chris and Sam (father and son) departed after completing the southern leg of the walk at Horton-in-Ribblesdale, Judith and Nigel (different Nigel) said goodbye as they moved forward when we took a break day in Hawes.  Since then, it's our trail chatter (or truly, just the sound of our pounding hearts on a trail interval day like today).  We think of days like this as a  hamster-wheel pattern; that is up-up-up, then a breather on the downhill before we're up again.  Ah, but we're never really alone, thanks to the sheep 😉.

Quiet Trail

We're finding the Pennine Trail far different from our Coast-to-Coast walk at least in part because we see so few walkers out on the trail.  The Coast-to-Coast seems a bustling byway of walkers in comparison.  The Pennine Way also is not as well-maintained or marked in many areas (while the C2C misses signage in the Lake District, it is quite evident beyond -- and even in the Lakes, walkers often can follow fresh trails, if not the walkers ahead).  On the Pennine, many trails are thin or vague through vast open expanses (as was our experience today).  So, it may be of interest to know how we manage.  We walk with one map each -- I have a Harvey 1:40,000 trail map and Cliff has an annotated Grieg Map).  We also each carry a GPS loaded with the country map, overlaid with more than 300 waypoints that Cliff manually entered and a "breadcrumb" trail from Paddy Dillon.  To give us even more perspective, we set our GPSs on different resolutions: Cliff's is at a higher resolution to catch every turn and I track at a lower resolution to give us a bird's eye view of what is to come.  All together, this system is serving us well. 

Above Blakton Reservoir

Low Force Falls

Tonight we're perched just below the 70 foot High Force Falls on the River Tees.  Alone together and well.

Walk Like An Eng-lish-man

Day Ten, Keld to Bowes: 12.5 miles

At the Butt House in Keld, Chris and Jacqui have installed a very clever boot drier since our last visit.  This fabulous little contraption enabled us to step into dry boots as we set off to Bowes this morning.  And by noon, one never would have known . . . but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Goodbye, Keld!

Hello, Tan Hill!

This morning we bid farewell to our pals at the Butt House under some variable skies -- fast moving high clouds and patches of just enough blue to tease us.  Knowing we had more time than we needed to complete today's route (couldn't check in at the Ancient Unicorn in Bowes before 1630), we ambled up to Tan Hill (England's highest pub), where we stopped for a coffee break, before heading into the moorland (read bog) just beyond the pub.

By the time we were thirty minutes into the 3.25 miles of bog that define the moorland, our boots, socks and feet were wet again.  Still yet, thanks to the bogs, even when it's not raining here, one is guaranteed wet boots nonetheless 😆. However, we have to brag that this was a complete NO RAIN day.  While temps stayed cool and the clouds rolled in and out, our wet weather gear stayed tucked in our packs for the duration of the day (yipee!).

The British, we have noticed, take each wet day completely in stride (every pun intended).  And that alone signals to us that despite the succession of lovely sunny days we enjoyed on the Coast-to-Coast in 2015, this wet weather is quite the norm. With that in mind, we are intent upon walking like a true Englishman and woman -- with straight-ahead pragmatism, no-excuses determination and can-do attitude.  And quite honestly, as we walk each day I marvel at the sense of absolute peace and happiness I feel on these long-distance walks.  It's a stress-free, more heart-than-head existence.  We are grateful for the ability and desire to continue these long-distance walking adventures.

Cliff ahead of me on the moor

Ewe and lamb enjoying the sunshine (almost as much as us)

Ruins of the Bowes Castle (circa 1170)

The Great Shunner Fell

Day Nine, Hawes to Keld: 12.5 miles

When I mentioned to Bob, the proprietor from Cocketts Inn in Hawes that we were walking to Keld today, he raised his eyebrows at my response that it was only 12 miles, and replied, yes, but 12 miles up hill . . ..

Really, how bad could it be?

Ho, ho!  Pretty darned demanding.  We started out in wet weather gear ("waterproofs" as they call it here), took it off after an hour (hot from walking uphill) and had donned it again before noon.  The walk up Great Shunner Fell (at 2,349 feet) was a long slog through the rain, the wind and the bog.  Miraculously, atop the Fell, someone (many years past) constructed a brilliant shelter in the shape of a plus sign, providing walkers the opportunity to shelter from the wind in any of four directions.  We huddled there eating our sandwiches (a rare opportunity to perch instead of stand (or completely skip) through lunch) at the day's halfway point. 

As we made our way off the Great Shunner Fell, we found one of the more striking cairns of the walk and snapped a quick photo on the iPhone.  Note our dress and the background (or lack thereof as we were surrounded by fog):

Navigating the bogs and traipsing through trails that have become streams, characterized most of the day.  The absence of fellow hikers was notable.  Just after leaving Hawes, we passed (going into town as we were leaving) a group of eight English school girls. And after lunch we passed a single English walker heading up to the Fell as we were coming down.  We have yet to meet any other American hikers -- and only tonight as I sit and type the blog in Keld (the crossroads of the Coast to Coast and the Pennine Way) are we sitting with a hiker not from the UK (three Aussies are here).

The sights and sounds today were of the curlew trying to distract us from their marshy nests, the wind (of course), rabbits hustling to their warrens and of course, the many ewes with their spring lambs.

And now from the front

Check out the horns on this ewe

Rather late in the walk, the mist thinned and we were able to capture a few shots of the Yorkshire landscape.  We both agree that these agricultural areas straight out of a James Herriott novel make for some of the most beautiful views along the way.

The treat of the day was the opportunity to enjoy a long visit last evening with our friends Chris and Jacqui, owners of the Butt House.  We stayed at the Butt House in 2015 when we walked England Coast-to-Coast along the Wainwright Route and so loved the charm and hospitality of Chris and Jacqui (and the sheer joy of their pup, Scamp) that we asked to lodge here again (where the two paths cross).  Last night will surely be a highlight of our walk this year -- and a much cherished memory of an evening with friends.

You know it's a very wet climate when so large and complex a colony of moss and lichen thrives on a fencepost!

"See" you in Bowes!