This is the day you begin the walk you imagined, and for me probably
the best on the entire Pennine Way. Hard, disbelievingly long but the
landscape you see while you're up there takes your breath away in every
sense. Whats even better is that after Malham there are no more villages
or roads its just moor land and paths. I began fed up with the entire
walk and second guessing myself and ended walking into camp like the
living dead but exhilarated and excited about whats to come. This is the
real start of the walk.
The day started like the others, the path meandering through hamlets
and across country paths and rivers. This section is simple enough,
holds a few too many gates and styles for someone carrying a twenty
pound bag, but I reached Malham my midday.
Malham is gorgeous,
full of life and bustle and completely covered in tourists, which was
understandable since the weather was wonderful. I stopped at Old Barn
Cafe for beans on toast and a hot chocolate.
From
there its a 15 mile straight walk up to Malham Cove and finally a sense
of majesty and wilderness. This is the site of an ancient waterfall and
the start of limestone country, springy turf and very little bogs.
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| From the top of Malham Cove |
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| Malham Cove |
The path covered with tourist follows the river to
Malham cove and then climbs up some sturdy steps to the top of the
falls. Its pretty steady and with a few pauses for breath a much easier
alternative to rough land. I did feel a bit like a pack-horse compared
to other people around me with day packs but as soon as you reach the
top you leave the crowds.
Its a little confusing here but if
you turn right as instructed and work your way to the back you
eventually stumble upon the style and enclosed path. The terrain before
the style is intense, the lime stone worn away to form spike like areas
with foot deep gabs between. One slight slip and a very very painful
wound.
The climb continues but steadily and the audiobook of Lord of the
Rings: The Two Towers is my constant companion. Once the Pennine Way
turns away from the main walkers routes from Malham it gets quieter
again and opens up to an even more grandiose landscape.
From
here you walk down towards Malham Tarn- a large lake in front a
Edwardian style house. A few people are dotted around the place but
fewer and fewer as you follow the dirt track around the lake to the
structure manor house. With the terrain easy and flat I covered several
miles an hour and felt some of my old energy coming back. My heel had
finally been overcome by medication and I was on my way. It was time to
leave Lord of the Rings for a while for the quicker beats of the Lion
King, there is no need to attempt coolness when hiking.
Part of
the lighthearted enjoyment of this section was the fact that there was
little point in worrying how much I'd covered. I was going to be walking
all day no matter what so I wasn't paying attentions to the miles.
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| Malham Tarn |
The dirt track goes down along the lake for a
little longer before breaking away and following a stone wall up to the
farm. As with Stoodley Pike the lake gives a satisfying sense of
distance as you move away and it shrinks into the landscape.
The fields, like most I'd gone through the last week, were full of sheep
and the path was indistinct. Keeping to the wall its a stunning view
nonetheless. Then its a quick jaunt up to the farmyard and then a steep
climb back into the abandoned and solitary moor land of Fountains Fell.
Any tiredness is easily recuperated by glancing behind at Malham Tarn
shrinking behind me, and the open wilderness in front as far as the eye
can see.
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| Fountain Fell Moors |
Fountain Fell is a wonderful path and in less than
an hour I was already descending a steep track to the valley road. The
pains in legs, heel and back were all intensified by the concrete
under-foot. I was now ready to reach camp. I figured I must have covered
the majority of the ascent and there were only two or so pages of maps
left in the guidebook. I hadn't realised that within those two small
pages there was another ascent to 696 meters as the Pennine Way pops up
to Pen-y-ghent- one of Yorkshire's three peaks. Parts of this climb is
literally a climb, which with the rising winds threatened to push me
off. I was a little scared but there was little other choice and once it
was completed it would be all down hill.
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| The path doesn't twist around, but goes right up over those rocks |
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| From neat the top of Pen-y-ghent |
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| Top of Pen-y-ghent |
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| Pen-y-ghent as I descended into Horton-in-Riddlesdale- the Pennine way pretty much follows the profile in view. |
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| Path down to Horton-in-Riddlesdale |
The decent was painful but with me giggling and
talking my way to camp like a crazy woman not without its moments. It
took at least an hour to get into the town making today's walking time
well over thirteen hours but having the destination in view makes such a
difference. My feet felt like sponges on sharp stones, every step
baring the entire weight of the backpack. It didn't matter though, I'd
done it and I was finally engaged in the walk and excited about what was
to come. I kept on glancing back at what I'd just climbed over as it
began to look above me and couldn't stop grinning.
It was
nearly dusk already and I was a little worried about finding somewhere
to camp. Once in a while I glanced around to see if there was a handy
corner to pitch my tent but I was nearly out of water and in need of a
good meal and a toilet. I checked the map and concluded that the best
course would be to go to the first campsite I spotted and hope there
would be space. It was a Sunday though and the hordes at Malham might
have been an ill omen. With an hour left of daylight I reached Holme
Farm, a massive makeshift campsite run my a loudly spoken and friendly
Scottish man. Tents filled two large fields and a number of loud parties
were taking place. I headed away from the large crowd and found a
slightly quieter patch behind the edge facing the smaller of the two
fields and a family tent. For a little while I simply lay on my rucksack
as I felt my feet decompress from the shoes. The mother of the family
drifted over and introduced me to her wonderfull husky. I was glad of
the introduction so I'd know where to direct my screams should the need
occur. This was the fullest and most inebriated of the campsites I'd
come to and I felt a little more weary than usual.
Stiffly I
raised my tent and not bothering to shower sorted out my stuff and
eating my powdered soup/couscous concoction fell straight to sleep with
my earphones in place to block out the drunken uproar around me.
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