P.W. Day 10- Dufton to Garrigill 16miles

  Dufton to Garrigill is one of the hardest days of the entire walk and one I'd been dreading from the start and hoping, if I only had one day of sun, that it would be clear and visible throughout. You begin the day with a hard climb up to Cross Fell 893 meters in height, only to dip down and rise again so that you're faced with a mighty 1100 meters ascent over the day. Once you are at the top there's a long and knee splitting trudge down the well named 'Corpse Road'. All this is doable in good weather, but thats not what I faced. I faced two meters of visibility,  and what I found out later were fifty mile winds.
  I woke to rain, and with that excuse rolled over a slept till half eight, wondering down to the post office for a full English. I've found that eating a lot shamelessly can only be accomplished if you have a backpack for an excuse. The weather had cleared a bit and I realised I needed to get going and try to get to the summit before the bad weather began. The decent is along a Miners Road and easier to follow while the section between the two peaks has no path and you either need to use compass bearings or rely on visibility. This would be the biggest test to my navigational skill of the entire hike.
  I struggled walking up the first stretch along Narrow Hedged Lane, the path is steep and I found myself getting either too hot and having to stop to delayer, or finding I was developing a blister and having to stop to plaster myself, and so on and so on. It took me a long time to find my rhythm.

The cartoony shapes rolling hills rising out of Dufton

    Rising higher and higher I could see the weather also closing in on the peak and squared my shoulders to what would be bearing down on me. It wasn't long before my entire concentration was fixed on the path and not leaving it while it lasted.

Mists sweeping in over the plain

    A stint along the road was a blessed relief, but a short lived one. The path remains pretty visible until it splits in two around the radar tracking station. Here I climbed to early and was forced to backtrack. Once in a while slabs give a relief to the confusion. From this point you are suppose to be able to see the 'Cow Green Reservoir' but visibility was getting worse.  I found Little Dun Fell and fell over as I reached the shelter. The wind was so strong, and I was leaning so much into it, that as the shelter blocked it I was suddenly overcompensating and on my face. The rain had been falling for a while now and I could only rest a little time in the damp before I was getting cold. This is only a collapsing wall of stones but it is a welcome relief and a good guidance point to navigate from.
  I followed the compass from here, decending in as straight a line as I could but continually been forced to divert around marshes or clunks of rocks. It should have been no more than a ten minute trot but an hour later and I was beginning to get a little worried and a lot wetter than I'd like. When I reached a series of pikes in the earth I pause and once more examined my map. No avail since I couldn't see anything around me. I decided that the best thing I could do is simple head up hill since there was only one clear peak in the region and I must have ended up east of the correct route. Dozens of lightly trodden tracks starting and disapearing suggested others had had similar problems.   Cross Fell finally appeared and gasping with relief I lent forwards against the gale and pushed on. Again I tried to follow the compass as loyally as I could, attempting to scramble down the summit but was then forced to stop near the top. The compass was trying to lead me down a cascade of jaggered rocks. I'd nearly fallen twice and couldn't face the next hundred meters of the same so turning sideways I made my way to the edge of the rocky side and skirted until I found solid ground again. A path instantly became visible and I began the decent down Longman Hill.
  I popped into Greg's Hut as I passed to see what it looked like inside. It seemed quite homely and if there had been a lock on the door I'd have even felt safe but preferred my cosy tent. After a hundred or so meters descent the wind eased and as I past the hut the fog lifted. The rain continued.
  Once or twice on the decent I considered setting up camp but the rain was too sever and I really wanted something warm to eat. The water in my shoes had caused so much suction that my feet were squelching with every step which at least eased them a little from the stone path.
  When I reached the small village of Garrigill it was dusk and the rain and increased to a torrent. I reached the town hall and walking behind found where I could camp. Deciding I'd rather sit in the rain for a hour or so than sleep in a wet tent all night I kept everything packed up and waited for a break in the weather. It took little over an hour but my clothes and shelter stayed dry. I hung the rest in the porch and shoved my soaked boots with toilet role under the lavatory sink inside. I doubted a town this size would have too many chavs hang out in the public toilets.
  The village pub is lovely but does not accept cards, and nor does anywhere else but the B&B/ post office which was shut. My plans for a well earned feast were downsized to soup and a coup of tea, however this was quite sufficient and I left feeling warmed up and ready for bed. Tomorrow should be a doddle compared to today's stretch.