Day 35- Standedge to Colden 18.5 miles

    Today's walk was easy enough. The Pennine Way joins Oldham Way over the moors and towards the M62. The path is well trodden and, today, dry. I found myself at the same burger van as on my last Pennine Way walk and ordered myself a fried egg sandwich. The road before it was packed and asking why I found that the

Shut M62

M62 had been shut after a terrible crash. The cars were practically standing still going into

Manchester which made crossing easy. It was strange, a little while later, crossing over the deserted M62.
  Stopping briefly at the White House Inn I ordered a coke and tried to update my blog using their Wi-Fi. The White House Inn was busy, like the last time I'd come, and felt welcoming and warm. I stayed an hour or so before moving on. I was far too aware that it was only twelve and if I was planning to wild camp I'd be reaching my goal far too early.

Blackstone Edge Reservoir

  Whenever you take a break above five minutes your muscles stiffen and you forget how to walk, or at least my legs do, and it takes a few minutes for me not look ridiculous. As I passed the rather impressive monument Stoodely Pike I had a rather impressive noise bleed. I've had two so far after the walk from Edale, not brilliant things to have when without tissues. I think it's due to high winds and rough noise blowing.

Stoodley Pike

Stoodley Pike fading in the distance

 The path down to Charleston Valley (around the corner from Hepden Bridge) was simple enough and the climb up Dry

Lower Pilling

Hill just as steep and draining. More so since the moment you're up you're going back down to Lower Pilling. I remembered that around here the was a shop called Aladdin's Cave and kept my eyes peeled hoping that they would still be open.

View from May's Aladdin's Cave back towards Stoodley Pike

 They were. May's Aladdin's Cave Shop is a small building at the entrance to a farm about 200 yards from the Pennine Way path, and is packed to the ceiling with everything you might wish for. The owner is also a very special women, friendly, interested and happy. While talking she told me of some campers they'd had yesterday, I asked in surprise if they were also a campsites. Apparently long distance hikers can camp for free and use the outside toilets and fresh water spring in their yard. I eagerly cut my walk short, made camp and are my newly bought treats.

Campsite at May's Aladdin's Cave campsite

Day 32- Pomeroy to Edale 16 miles

Looking down into Hope Valley from Hollins Cross

  With the planned route abandoned I spent some time pouring over the map before settling for a route. I needed to find a town before Edale in order to buy food as well as withdraw some money. Having been through nothing but hamlets since Uttoxeter I had nothing to eat today and little money, moreover the Pennine Way would not go through any town of note for days. In the end I diverted so I'd go through Castleton. Most of the day would be spent on either the Midshire Way, Limestone Way or the Pennine Bridleway; at times you're walking two at the same time.
  I started out well, excited about getting to Edale and surrendering myself to another long distance trail for the next two or so weeks. Within the first hour I found a small campsite shop in Blackwell where I bought some chocolate bars, biscuits and an icecream. After another brief climb you descend into Miller's Dale Nature Reserve.

Lime Kiln

Here you join the Monsal Trail for a short period through a rather wonderful valley showing the history of kiln burning and lime production that would have dominated the area between 1880-1944. The path goes along the disused Ashbourne to Buxton railway track, now converted to a walking and cycling path.
  After barely a mile you head north, out of the valley, and join the Pennine Bridleway again through farm lands and small country lanes. I passed yet another group of Duke of Edinburgh students bent over their map while half lay collapsed on the side of the road. I'd been climbing steadily for some time, easy enough walking but it was with some relief that I started to descend into Carleton. It was already 1:00 which meant I had, if the match started on schedule, only an hour to get to Edale, set pitch and find a pub who'd show the tennis. Murray vs Djokovic in the French Open is worth rushing for.

Path down to Castleton

  The path to Castleton is horribly steep and half under water. A shallow steam flows down over it, not deep enough to get your feet wet, but I was still left worried about slipping. The rocks looming on either side of me were imposing structures, tall rock faces housing ruins and caves.
  The town itself was packed with tourists but held the necessary post office for money withdraw and general shop for food. I bought myself a cold spinach and ricotta

Climbing up Hollins Cross

pie for lunch before heading further north towards Edale, up over Hollins Cross. This path had been used to move deceased Edale inhabitants over the mountain to the Castleton graveyard, no mean feet when at its height the mountains 426 metres tall. I struggled up it and down with only my own carcass inn tow. Over in Edale I set up camp within ten minutes and walked the two or so hundred metres up hill to the Old Nags Head which not only had good WiFi but sky TV. Once a large

Old Nags Head, official start of the Pennine Way

group of male walkers cleared out I had a perfect spot to watch my boy fight. The weather delay meant the match would be finished tomorrow but it

Bit of Hebrew on a post in Edale, any one translate?

was still a treat and I felt inspired. Wimbledon will be fun, I'll have to schedule my walking to Murray's matches, won't miss this years tournament.

Day 30- Uttoxeter to Swinscoe 14 miles

Leaving Uttoxeter Racecourse

Today was horrible. To begin with the paths out of Uttoxeter are covered with cows or simply over grown. Then I mislaid the path crossing the A56 and ended up struggling through nettle covered paths and getting stuck. My legs and feet, exposed in sandles and three courter lenghts, were covered in stings. Once crossed the 'path' disappeared under more brambles.

The near constant state of my feet

I stopped for a drink at twelve before following, as best as I could, the Ordley Brook. This path, after a dry summer, would have been a charming walk through a wooded valley but after the rain it was hell. Branches and trees had fallen across the path making progress slow and hard. The backpack make the simplest bit of squatting or climbing much much harder.
  Eventually after scaling several wooded banks I scrambled into a field, twisted my ankle and sat, exhausted and horrified at the idea of carrying on all the way to Biggin, another ten or so miles away. So I didn't, settling for the considerably closer target of Swinscoe and Common End Farm campsite.
  Set up and ready I had a shower, waiting for the campsite owner to appear so I could pay before going back down the road to the pub. The owner was lovely and the campsite is the type I like, nothing fancy but comfortable and well taken care of.

Common End Farm Campsite

The pub was called 'The Dog and Patridge', a handsom building but full of unhappy workers who didn't seem to like each other or me much. Perhaps they were upset at how quiet it was. Alton towers had been shut a days before after an awful crash on one of the roller coasters and the funfair was a major source of their custom. I saw no sign off any regulars. Possibly you'd not notice unless you yourself work in a restaurant. Either way I spent three hours there trying to catch up with the blog before gratefully leaving.

Day 1 - Land End to Pendeen 10 Miles

Crossing the river Tamar to Cornwall on the train

   I got to Plymouth at 5:15 and rushed across town to catch my 5:45 train to Penzance. Light was starting to seep across the city centre. The people I past were a mixture of those drifting along who'd woken up early for work and those who'd yet to go to sleep. I walked the first ten minutes with my shoelaces undone from the coach, sure I'd miss the train. I'd reserved advanced tickets, and I still needed to pick them up at the station before boarding. After nearly missing my megabus from London I was waiting for something else to go wrong. The idea that I was actually starting was staggering, I really couldn't get my head around it. I'd not trained enough, I'd gone on one over night walk and was in general unfit. This was ridiculous.
  Everything, however, went fine and I found myself on a charmingly retro train with wide arm chair style seats and sleeper compartments. While it seemed to travel incredibly slowly it was also wonderfully smooth and I dozed happily. Compared with the cramped knee crushing chairs in megabus these coaches were heaven.

View from Penzance Train station back to St Michael's Mount

  Once at Penzance I searched for a cafe to have breakfast in while waiting for the bus. Straight outside the station is a wonderfully cheap and friendly greasy spoon called Sullivan's Dinner. Fried egg sandwiches £1.20 and tea for £1. It's not a stylish buildings, rather a rundown box but the foods good and quick.
  I could feel my heart beating a little faster on the bus. I couldn't help fidget and check the straps on the backpack as if they'd suddenly break. Its a state of the art Deuter backpack, the straps are not going to break anytime soon. Although only a dozen or so miles away the bus was slow and wound around the town in zigzags taking nearly 50 minutes to complete the journey.
  Lands end was crowded with tourists, a large group of cyclists near the entrance balanced on their perches listening to their leaders instructions. Most of the people milling around were foreigner. I wondered past them feeling fooling with my backpack. I found a smaller sign than I'd expected and got a nice gentleman to take some pics of me grinning. I tried to hold up the banner but the wind wouldn't let me. A weather warning had been issued for today's winds and they were spot on.
  Once I'd registered for the walk, had a toilet break, I finally set off. Walkers were everywhere, but none wearing the backpack and I stood out horribly. This became less conspicuous as I left Cowle and dropped down to Whitesand Bay.
  The walking isn't too steep but once off the beach the path is hard under foot, a few scrambles slowing me down and breaking my rhythm. Longer distance walkers wondered past here and there, more than I've ever seen. I seemed to have finally planned a walk during the hiking season.

Registration book at the start of Land's End to John o'Groats

Freswick Beech

  It took quite a while to reach Cape Cornwall. Chimneys begin to speckle the landscape like silent wardens. Tin mining is evident but not in an ugly way, time making their ruins romantic. The idea of the labyrinth beneath my feet adds mystery to their shapes.
    My new hat proved a major success, fitting perfectly and keeping the hair out of my face. I also figured I should get used to wearing it before the summer really begins.
   Cutting across farm land I reached Pendeen and found North Inn where I camped. The wind was so strong I was seriously worried for my tent and spent nearly half an hour fastening it down. Even now sat in the pub I'm a little worried I'll go back to find it gone. That would not be a good start. 

  Showered I made myself dinner, couscous and tinned diced and beef in gravy. Dull food and a mistake. Also the tin cost £3 which is a tad pricy. If I get to St Ives early enough I'll find a proper shop and do better. I've also promised myself a pasty before leaving Cornwall so that is also on the menu.
 Only 13 miles tomorrow so another relatively easy day, and a chance to allow my body to adapt to the trail. First day done I feel slightly less scared, still don't believe I'm actually doing though.

North Inn Campsite, Pendeen

End to End - Lands End to O'Groats on Foot, Route planned on Bing's Free Ordnance Survey Maps

                     CLICK ON THE MAP AND ZOOM TO SEE THE ORDNANCE SURVEY MAPS

View Larger Map  |  Get Directions  |  View Bird's Eye

Possible route from Lands End to O'Groats on Foot. Just spent the last three days plotting it across Bings Ordnance Survey Maps- did you know they had them free across the whole of England!!!! This has definitely earned them my love.
Does anyone know an easy way to avoid trudging up the A roads at the end? I'm trying to navigate a different route but I suspect it'll be me lost in moor land swearing and daydreaming about passing cars and tarmac. 
  Over the next few weeks I'll be breaking down the walk into smaller sections and playing around with possible alternatives but I wanted to get a better idea of the distances and terrain first. Boy is it daunting. Any advice PLEASE email.

  Route tracked a mixture of Andy Robinson's route in 'The End to End Trail' (books bloody heavy, no way I'd carry that with me and the maps are a little confusing but it is helpful) and  'When I Walk, I Bounce: Walking from Land's End to John o'Groats ' by Mark Maxon (personal account of the walk, not guide, but funny and engaging)

This route partly goes along the following National Trails:

South West Coastal Path
Offa's Dyke Path
Pennine Way
West Highland Way
Great Glenn Trail 

I've partly chosen it because it covers half of Offa's Dyke instead of remaining more central and walking up the Cotswold Way. I've done the majority of the Cotswold Way already and find open moors more more appealing than a long stream of golf courses.

DISCLAIMER - other peoples routes and I've yet to walk them. All this is is a very carefully plotted trail based on their instructions.

P.W. Day8- Tan Hill to Middleton-in-Teesdale 16.5miles

  The rain was hard when I woke, so hard that I didn't even try to take any photos but packed the camera away in my bag. Mainly it was drizzle but continuous and the path was non-existent. The moor holds markers every few hundred meters but no set path or slabs. Its a matter of constant navigation using compass baring and hoping another white pillar will turn up to tell you that you'd not made a mistake. To make things worse the rain had saturated the ground, the water never less than an inch deep and at times a foot or two. I fell a few times and at one point twisted my right ankle badly, my left heel much worse making every footstep horrible.
  The moor seemed to last forever and a day, and it was with incredible relief that I finally reached a road. Here I stopped and tried to do something for my ankles, the twisted one not wanting to take much weight while the other one was simply in a lot of pain. It made me shred tears of frustration, especially when I'd had such an easy day the day before. I bandaged up the heel, covering the blister and all the rest of the back of the heel and it made a big difference. Still I limped along and hated every moment.
  The rest bite of walking on the roads is small and I was quickly back in the sodden moors struggling to keep my boots from been sucked off by the mud and my ankles twisting from under me continually. This section needs to be slabbed before I do it again, stuff the 'leave the moors as they are' people, bring on the slabs. It must be much worse for the environment to have people trudging over the bushes looking for less muddy routes.
  Here you have a choice, easier terrain but longer or more moor land, no path but several miles less. I decided that I was in pain either way, the shoes were full of mud so I might as well carry on with the moors. None were quite as bad as Tan Hill but it was hard and slow going, the entire way with little to help navigate. You work mainly from a sense of the right route and the compass, and since the moorland in England is mainly a thin strip its hard to go that much wrong and its easily correctable as soon as you reach the next road.
  There was some difficulty when I reached Baldersdale, I came out several hundred meters further up  the road, at some point having left the trail, but after climbing over a fence and getting a little stuck
the mistake was quickly corrected and I trudged onward. At this point I was walking extremely slowly and with no energy, stopping far too much and struggling with my ankles. I could have stopped at Clove Lodge campsite but, walking past, it seemed a deserted farm yard and it was still early in the day. I would not give up the momentum I'd buit in the last few days.
  Climbing past Hannah's Medow I stopped to read the sign describing the place. I held little interest but any excuse to stop was welcomed. What followed was a lot of farmers fields full of friendly and not so friendly cows. The younger ones were the only ones to show aggression while the bull was too busy following a poor lady cow in circles around the field. This section is really a matter of styles, farm fields, a road, a farm drive, sheds, another field, and another road. Not the most inspired section and I was in no mood.
  Finally Middle-in-Teesdale came into view down the slope from me and limping I gratefully quickened my pace. No one was at the Dalesview Campsite reception but following the signs I easily found the empty camping area and set up. Once showered I lay and rested, cream on my aching limbs and already decided that I was giving myself tomorrow off. The next section was 21 miles and I wasn't going to attempt it till my ankle was better and I had a bandage for the heel.
  I spent the night in the campsite pub, ate their plain but cheap meal and drunk tea until my electrics were sufficiently recharged for me to watch North and South on my ipod.
 

Pennine Way Day2- Crowden to Standedge

 

View climbing out of Crowden

  I woke early but the rain was too heavy to attempt packing up. I dozed until there seemed a break and packed up as quickly as possible. Overcast as it was as I made my way from the campsite it seemed to dry out a little and the path up and out of Crowden was steady and pretty. I passed the couple I'd seen the day before very early on and made my way alongside Crowden's Great Brook. The water was flowing with worrying force considering the amount of streams I'd be crossing throughout the day . The path contours the hillside precariously, sometimes a little under water and other times going straight through a quickly flowing stream. It made it very hard going, and at times scary.  At several points I needed to throw my bag across before leaping after it. The views however were fantastic, equal if not better than the day before.

The Crowden Great Brook looking back to Crowden in the distance

   The creeks got steadily harder to cross, at times forcing me to search for routes around to avoid been swept away. I was very conscious of my camera through out after my last creek crossing and camera disaster. Very soon my feet were soaked.
    In many ways the terrain here is considerably harder than yesterdays and certainly took a lot longer. I suspect on a dry day this is very different.

  It was with relief I finally, after the mother of all crossings (took nearly half an hour), took the path branching out towards Black Hill. The climb is steady enough and the path clear with slabs here and there to help you over the bog. At this point I was listening to Bill Bryson's 'A Walk in the Woods' but the earphones kept on pausing the ipod driving me absolutely crazy. I also realised that at some point I'd lost all my snacks and was steadily getting hungrier. I stopped myself from having lunch in the hope to stumbling across a pub or food van when I crossed the A635. The moors still held a lot of charm and I quite enjoyed the steady walk, although my backpack was still causing me grief as well as my map cord around my neck. I was so scared of getting lost though that I kept it instantly at hand to double-check my route. Even when I was clearly on the path I'd refer to it in the hope of learning out to read the contours of the land around me.

Path to Black Hill

  I'm afraid the next section to the A635 is tiresome and after the rain, which we'd had all the week before, quite horrible. There's a river crossing which the sign warns not to attempt after rain, it suggested an alternative route but I was too lazy and too worried about getting lost to take heed- a bit like in Australia I know but I am somewhat of a slow learner. This time, however, I got away with it. The path goes up and down a couple of times too often and the road deceptively far away. The couple later told me that they followed, ignoring the alternative route also having concluded that if I'd managed they would also.
Glancing back I spotted them in the distance and kept up my pace, determined that I'd not be overtaken. After the road crossing the path is very simple and goes along the road to a gravel drive along the Wessender Reservoir. Wessender Lodge, my hoped source for lunch, turned out to be a private home. So settling myself on the side of the path I cooked myself some couscous on my JetBoil stove. As soon as I'd finished cooking and turned off the stove the rain came. For some reason I'd decided I was nearly at my destination when I set off which is wrong, two thirds of the way maybe and definitely the hardest parts are completed but there is a way to go. The rain made it all that much harder, and my wet feet were in serious pain. This was not the peppy energetic first few days I'd imagined and I was getting a little worried the walk was going to beat me.

The view from just after Black Moss Reservoir

  Across the moor and a long a series of reservoirs which, if they hadn't lost their novelty yet, will seem quite tiresome  by the end of the trip. As you descend once more to the car park in front of the Brun Clough Reservoir  you cross onto the rather scary A62. Here is my first Pennine Way map on which I posed in a cheesy manner while pointing at my current position. I'm pointing to only a center-meter or so above the starting point, there's still a long way to go,

Looking down towards Standedge as the mists come down

  The days walk complete I now headed off the Pennine way and walked the kilometer of so to The Carriage House. I got there well before it's opening hour and sat outside a while hunching my shoulders to the rain. By this point I was well and truly soaked. The couple of elderly gentlemen who'd been behind me the last few miles caught up and we stood around talking awkwardly. They were hunched over horribly and their packs did not look very supportive whatsoever.
  A kind caravan man popped over and told us to set up and settle the bill later. I gratefully obeyed and blessing the heavens for the clearing of the rain set up the tent and sorted out my stuff. I limped inside and paid for my pitch but mainly to optain a shower token, nearly jumping with glee when they said I could also have a bath if I wished. I did wish. I adopted their boiler as a dry room and soaked myself until I could hear the gentlemen waiting for their turn outside.
  That night was very pleasant. Wondered inside and bought myself a lasagne, attempting to write up the days travel and failing. Instead I examined the next days route, an exercise I'd repeat every night after. It would only be another eleven mile day but if it was going to rain it would be another day of hell. I wanted a sunny few days to kick start the hike, instead I was looking at wet shoes and wet clothes with howling winds over the moors.
  The couple who'd been behind me came in and I introduced myself a little. They were taking a gap year and had given themselves a month to walk the Pennine Way but were finding it much harder than they reckoned- I could relate. The first few days, I can now say in retrospective, are very hard and do not ease you in. Again this might be different in hot dry weather but in the rain the crossings and the bogs are extremely draining. 
  I also met four boys, definitely nearer teenagers than my age, who were doing mountaineering training. One of their number had slipped and hurt his ankle so badly they'd had to get the helicopter in to get him out, by which point he had hypothermia. This gave me guilty comfort- even if I was finding it hard I was having an adventure with dangers just like Australia.