The morning started with a pleasant riverside walk along Langdon Beck which soon turned into a scramble over boulders followed by the ubiquitous slabs and intermittent stretches of duckboards. (Why are they called that, ducks are the last creatures to need them?) A proper climb, requiring hands as well as feet, took me round Cauldron Snout an impressive waterfall in full spate, pictured below. Soon after, the weather closed in with persistent rain and mist obscuring the route. Just as I reached High Cup Nick, the mist parted and an enormous chasm appeared as if a scoop had been taken out of the hillside with a giant trowel. Under a ceiling of cloud in the middle distance, a pastoral landscape glowed under slanting sunlight, like AE Housman's land of lost content. The mist descended again as I picked my way around the rim of the crater, inches away from a thousand foot precipice. For a while, it was so overcast that I thought I might finally have an excuse to use the headtorch I'd bought, but once again the weather brightened as I descended to Dufton.
The local pub had decided to have an unscheduled night off from serving dinner so my landlady arranged for me and a Dutch walker who was staying with her to eat at the YHA housed in an impressive building which was the local doctor's home until such facilities were no longer provided in Dufton. The Dutch guy had walked south from Alston and would be going to Langdon Beck, where I had just come from, the following day. He was carrying a tent but in view of the poor weather was contemplating upgrading to B&Bs and leaving the tent at the YHA to be collected later.
My room was in an annexe to the main house and the landlady supplied my breakfast requisites and packed lunch in the evening so that I could make an early start if I wanted. Dufton to Garrigill is 16 miles, one of the longest sections on my itinerary, and also includes the traverse of Cross Fell which at 893m is the highest point on the PW. In view of the prediction of unsettled weather, I resolved to set off early as better conditions were forecast for the morning. I was on my way soon after 7am in bright sunshine and within two hours reached Knock Fell which comprised most of the ascent. A welcome breeze, like someone turning on the air conditioning, greeted me at the summit. The weather was perfect and the way straightforward with slabs masking the worse of the bogs. By 11am I was at Cross Fell and making my way towards the bothy known as Greg's Hut after the climber John Gregory. The hut was originally used by lead miners who would live there during the week and go home at the weekends. Now it's a refuge for tired and bedraggled walkers, some of whom stay overnight. I looked into the grimy and caliginous interior, grateful that my own accommodation arrangements were more indulgent. By 2pm, after a wearying trudge along the aptly named Corpse Road, an interminable rocky track, I reached Garrigill.
© David Thompson 2012
The local pub had decided to have an unscheduled night off from serving dinner so my landlady arranged for me and a Dutch walker who was staying with her to eat at the YHA housed in an impressive building which was the local doctor's home until such facilities were no longer provided in Dufton. The Dutch guy had walked south from Alston and would be going to Langdon Beck, where I had just come from, the following day. He was carrying a tent but in view of the poor weather was contemplating upgrading to B&Bs and leaving the tent at the YHA to be collected later.
My room was in an annexe to the main house and the landlady supplied my breakfast requisites and packed lunch in the evening so that I could make an early start if I wanted. Dufton to Garrigill is 16 miles, one of the longest sections on my itinerary, and also includes the traverse of Cross Fell which at 893m is the highest point on the PW. In view of the prediction of unsettled weather, I resolved to set off early as better conditions were forecast for the morning. I was on my way soon after 7am in bright sunshine and within two hours reached Knock Fell which comprised most of the ascent. A welcome breeze, like someone turning on the air conditioning, greeted me at the summit. The weather was perfect and the way straightforward with slabs masking the worse of the bogs. By 11am I was at Cross Fell and making my way towards the bothy known as Greg's Hut after the climber John Gregory. The hut was originally used by lead miners who would live there during the week and go home at the weekends. Now it's a refuge for tired and bedraggled walkers, some of whom stay overnight. I looked into the grimy and caliginous interior, grateful that my own accommodation arrangements were more indulgent. By 2pm, after a wearying trudge along the aptly named Corpse Road, an interminable rocky track, I reached Garrigill.
© David Thompson 2012
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