Lady Anne's Way

27^th June – 1^st July 2011

Introduction

I bought the guidebook by Sheila Gordon two years ago and have had several draft plans as to how and when to walk it. The summer of 2011 is without football or Olympics so it was natural to look for a week’s walking. With a lead in of a month, I finally planned a schedule from north to south and booked my accommodation. My great friend, Phil, could not manage to get away for 5 days but was tempted enough to join me for the last three days. He rang my pubs and B&B’s and got himself booked in. In the weeks leading up to the walk, the weather was distinctly unsettled, cold and wet. How would it turn out for the second week of Wimbledon?

Monday 27^th June 2011: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

I had booked my ticket to Penrith the previous Friday, too late I was told to reserve a seat. Jill took me down for the 08.02 into Manchester which connected nicely with the Preston train. However, the ticket inspector refused at first to accept my ticket. Although I had bought an anytime single, the ticket was dated for the date of purchase only. Eventually he allowed the ticket to stand but advised me to try to change it at Preston for a valid one. The Preston ticket office could not help except to give me a claim form against Virgin Rail. The ticket collector on the Penrith train hardly glanced at my ticket.

The train was 25 minutes late into Penrith so it was almost 11.00 before I set off in search of the Market Place and the official start of the walk. The day was heating up into the hottest day of the year, with 30C+ being registered before the day was out. Off I set in the general direction indicated in the guidebook. I checked with a postman and he said ‘Yes this is right; turn left at the dog poo bin.’ This led me to the busy A66 and the riskiest part of the entire route. Across safely, I scooted along the river to Brougham Castle, but did not go in. A mile down the road was Brougham Hall and, within the walls was a tea shop. The heat was now terrific, some of the hottest I had ever walked in so I slipped into the shade outside and ate my first cake of the trip.

I had decided to walk in my new Teva sandals, a brilliant choice as it turned out especially for the long road section into Cliburn. The ground was dry enough to wear them all day. With my hay fever pills, sun hat and wrap round glasses, I was well prepared for the hot weather. But I was still very hot and thirsty when I arrived at Long Marton. I soon found the B&B and Sandra made me a huge pot of tea and talked me through all the alternatives for a pub meal. The local pub did not do meals on Mondays, the next pub had unexpectedly closed and so she had booked me into the Stag at Dufton with an offer to take me and bring me home. Then she remembered that her car was in for a service and she could not provide transport. So her daughter who lived nearby ran me into Appleby, dropped me at the Tufton Arms and suggested I took a taxi back again after my meal. I asked the hotel to make these arrangements but no taxi was to be had that evening. I was stuck. However the staff were brilliant. The receptionist said she would take me home if I waited for her to finish work. I had no alternative to accept but then Nigel the owner, on a night off, offered to do the business. I was very appreciative of the kindness and assistance that was proffered.

Penrith                                     dep.     10.55

Tea at Brougham Hall                          12.05-12.20    
Long Marton                            arr        17.00
GPS:  17.07 miles in 5hrs 44.50

I stayed at Broom House Farm House (Sandra Bland), Long Marton, Appleby-in-Westmorland, Cumbria, CA16 6JP      Tel: 01768 361318.  I ate bellied pork at the Tufton Arms Hotel in Appleby and tried a local beer, Tirrill Pale Gold (4.1%) and an old favourite, Corby from Cumberland Brewery

Tuesday 28^th June 2011: Sick as a Parrot

I had negotiated an 8am breakfast so I could get an early start. I needed to get to Kirkby Stephen on time to meet Phil who was coming up to join me that evening. It was marginally cooler as I set out on farm tracks towards Appleby, scene on my entrapment the night before. I tried my sandals once more as these had been a great success on day 1. This was probable a day too far but my feet survived. 

It was very fiddly getting into Appleby on the recommended route. Lime Lane was a nettle trap for someone in shorts, the next indistinct section was hard to follow through bog, hill and wheat fields. But rather later that I had envisaged, I dropped down through the leafy outskirts of the old county town as a hospital helicopter landed in a nearby field. I went back into the market square across the road bridge. I wanted to visit St Lawrence’s Church and pay my respects to Lady Anne at her final resting place. Then it was off into the heat of the day, up passed the castle (closed due to a dispute with the owner) and round, down and back onto the banks of the River Eden.

The walk up the river was very pleasant and easy at first but then gets progressively more complex as banks are scramble up and steps are climbed. Finally the path leaves the river a heads through Great Ormside. It was here that I suddenly became aware of the hills. Yesterday they were distant and covered in heat haze but now, in the vibrant light of a fresh morning, here were the Pennines all around. As the day got hotter, the villages came and went; first Sandford across the river then Warcop for a brief encounter. Then it was over the field for my final easterly bearing.

Brough crept up on me. One moment there were field ahead of me, and then suddenly there was the castle of a high grassy mount. Quite a sight! The track I was on forded a river and, having only a pair of sandals on my feet, splashed straight across rather the seeking a nearby foot-bridge. Glory of glories, I came to a tea shop outside the castle. So before I explored the ruins I managed a pot of tea and a slice of lemon cake. The southerly line into Kirby Stephen was relatively uneventful and I was soon on the banks of the Eden again, this time seeking Frank’s Bridge and the steps up into the Market Square. I asked at the post office and was directed to Castle View, our accommodation for the night. I was greeted by Katie with a cup cake and cup of tea and shown to the magnificent room that she and her husband have created. Phil soon arrived after a short walk from the station that was extended by a diversion round a nature reserve.

We went to the Kings Head for a meal and found that the cycle group in the adjacent room was from our home town, Macclesfield Wheelers. After exchanging some ribald comments, we noticed them leave the pub and cross the road to photograph to very large birds on the roof opposite. Having been to Costa Rica two years ago, I could have sworn that these brightly coloured monsters were Macaws. We checked the strength of the beer we were drinking. It was obviously time for bed. 

Long Marton                           dep.     08.53

Tea at Brough Castle                14.00-14.30
Kirby Stephen                          arr.        16.35
~21 mls in 6hrs 45                  

We stayed with Katie Pepper, Castle View, 21 High Street, Kirkby Stephen, Cumbria, CA17 4SG   Tel:  07894 066976. We ate at the Kings Head, Steak and Ale Pie, with pints of Dent Aviator (an old friend from my son’s bachelor weekend) and Waggledance.

Wednesday 29^th June 2011: Drinks Stops become Mandatory

We had the great advantage of an early breakfast so, well before 9am, we were packed and raring to go. The sun was again shining as we set off on the road to Hawes (signposted 16 miles, 2 furlongs) and then over the river and onto the footpath to Nateby. As we crossed an open field strange sounds came from above and two Macaws crossed just above our heads. We had ascertained that a certain John Strutt (who died last year) owned the local estate and was passionate about breeding parrots. The present Estate Manager still feeds them and they all return home each evening. I nearly missed the left turn into the village but we were soon climbing through nettles on an underused, overgrown path. This part of the Lady Anne’s Way was not too popular. A long loop up the hillside offered us great views across to Wild Boar Fell and the Upper Eden Valley. We eventually descended to cross the road and then onto the river bank at Pendragon Castle. Crossing the bridge, the route took a riverside path for the next three miles. A slight young lady was walking powerfully towards us and we casually enquired whether Lady Anne was her objective. Yes she replied in an American accent. She had come all the way from San Francisco to walk what few from the UK had ventured on.

A re-crossing of the river (and our last encounter with a companion of 2 ½ days) led us to the start of the ‘Highway’, a seven-mile long track across the watershed into Wensleydale. The first two miles were uphill and on this climb we encountered our first and only reference sign to Lady Anne, a small square picture on a way-mark. We continued upwards towards a huge stone obelisk in which an S-shaped cavity had been carved. Then the track was flat and grassy with views of the railway as it turned over a viaduct towards Garsdale. The Pennine Bridleway shared the first section and we began to see cyclists and other walkers on a more regular basis.

Phil then began a series of proposals and suggestions with led to a compromise agreement between the two of us. It was decided that, when the need was really urgent, a mandatory hydration stop would be called. However Phil would give notice (anything up to 15 minutes) and even indicate likely and convenient stopping points. This would give me time to come to terms with the impact on the schedule and to rejig some of the times. Our first mandatory hydration stop was called for just after Hells Gill Bridge. It passed without trauma or drama from either member of the party. I was happy that other hydration stops were to be considered as optional.

What was not optional was the steep descent down Cotter End. The gradient and height drop was breath-taking but at least we were soon down in Wensleydale and walking beside the infant Ure. An optional stop was kept very brief by biting horse flies and we soon in Appesett and across the fields to Hawes. I was relieved to find the route, which and seemed so complex in the guidebook, so very straight forward on the ground. It was time to find a tea-shop. I soon identified the café which Mike and I had used last year on our trip up the Pennine Way. It did not disappoint. So, replete with Victoria cake and mugs of tea, we felt ready to venture once more into the heat of the afternoon. Following the Pennine Way for a few yards brought back memories, especially as we looked down on the train standing in the old station. Then it was up the fields and away to the east on a long traverse above the valley floor. I missed the correct descent into Askrigg and dropped too early to the road but this gave us the option to curtail the walk at the road junction to Bainbridge and to go seeking our beer, meal and beds. It was two very tired walkers that arrived that evening at the pub, after a classic day in the hills.

Kirby Stephen                         dep.     08.43

Café at Hawes                         14.15 – 15.30
Bainbridge                               arr.        17.10
GPS 21.67 mls in 7hrs 38.35

We stayed at the Rose & Crown Hotel, Bainbridge, Wensleydale, North Yorkshire, DL8 3EE,  Tel: 01969 650225. I had Thai Duck and Sticky Toffee Pudding, with bitter from Theakstons and Black Sheep.

Thursday 30^th June 2011: Rain at Last

We could not get breakfast before 8.15am so we were later than intended in getting started on what was on paper our longest and toughest day of the trip.  Our first rain of the week started to fall as soon as we had crossed the bridge on our way back onto the official route at Askrigg. So I wore my new waterproof for the first time in earnest. It is typical that when, for the very first time I had invested in top-class rainwear, I had hit the best weather of my walking life. The fields were flat and wet as we crossed the valley floor over to Worton and the start of another very big climb.

The waterproofs were really tested as we crested Worton Pastures and set out over grassy but indistinct tracks around the side of Addleborough. This brought us to a tarmacked farm track which led on a glorious high-level crossing of treeless moors. After a gradually four-mile uphill pull, the top of Stake Moss was reached and, as with yesterday’s descent, it was much more steep and sudden than expected. A stony and rutted track took us down to the road above Cray. Down the road until the contour path to Buckden was reached. From this it is possible to look down on the first pub on the day, unobtainable as it now was. It was almost two miles round into Buckden and here we dropped gradually down in Wharfedale, meeting it where Langstathdale comes in from the North West. I was keen to get through Buckden without stopping; too much temptation to drop off the tough schedule for the day. However, on the delightful riverside path on the side of the River Wharf, Phil declared a mandatory hydration stop which, in accordance with the agreement etched out yesterday, I had to comply with. Thank goodness rain and flies made the stop so unpleasant that is was very short.

An easy four miles by the river brought us to Kettlewell and our mandatory tea-shop. This proved a gem with large slices of carrot cake and refills of tea. We ended up chatting to a couple on the adjacent table who came from Congleton. We certainly needed the injection on energy because our climb out of the village was steep and sustained. I made a slight error in getting the correct path but this proved no problems because the parallel track gave superb views over Wharfedale and soon crossed through a gate onto the correct footpath. This took is up to the cairn on Conistone Moor and another earnest discussion on strategy and route choice.

I was once shown the classic ‘Fellsman’ direct line from this point but Phil was unhappy about the tussocky terrain and wall climbing that this would entail, especially at the end of such a long day. So it was down and around, on a lovely grassy track but which of course lost precious height led to a steep re-ascent. I again took the opportunity to be clever and set out across the trackless moors for a point at half height. Phil’s vision came true and before long we were climbing walls. But eventually we hit the right-of way down to Grassington and got into a nice fat rhythm as we strove to beat a threatening black cloud that was chasing us into out night-stop. The top of the village is quite confusing but a lady on a bike put us right and we quickly dropped onto the main street, bedecked with bunting for the festival, to our overnight stop.

Bainbridge                               dep.     09.00

Cafe at Kettlewell                    14.45 - 15.30
Grassington                              arr.        18.10
24mls+ in 8hrs 15

We stayed at the Foresters Arms, 20 Main Street, Grassington, Skipton, North Yorkshire, BD23 5AA Tel: 01756 752349.  I was back on the Steak and Ale Pie and washed it down with Timothy Taylor’s Landlords and a Tetley’s Midsummer Madness.

Friday 1st July 2011: Barden Tower

Another beautiful day in paradise. The sun streamed in through the windows promising yet more fantastic weather. The pub did not serve breakfast before 08.30 so we were packed and ready to go before we ordered. Phil’s attempt to pay the bill by credit card failed so we were back to cash only payments. A good job I had stopped at the Kirby Stephen cash machine.

It was a magnificent morning as we set off along High Lane on a long traverse to Hebden, The hills around looked lovely in the sharp light of morning. From Hedben, we found the correct path towards the waterworks but I was tempted across a ‘bridge too soon’. In moments we were back on route and over the next hill before the long picturesque descent to Burnsall and the River Wharf. Then we made good time over the three mile stretch along banks of the river. The top of Barden Tower peeped out above the trees and then disappeared from view as we crossed the road bridge. The guidebook (16 years old) promised us a tea shop here. Could it still be open? The steep road brought us sharply round a bend and there was the tower standing proudly on a well-kept grassy promontory. And as we climbed the stile into the site and then rounded the corner, there it was; the tea shop was still there, not as we had imagined it but in a beautiful old priests’ house. 

Fortified by magnificent piece of cheese cake, we set off again on the last leg of our trip, firstly up a quiet road and then up a long grinding hill climb. From the top gate a lovely track went off to the east but our route took us over a tussocky moor which got worse and worse as I made poorer and poorer route choices in a wet and vehicle-rutted bog. By the time we found the exit over a wall, we were thoroughly demoralised, so much so that a mandatory hydration stop was called. As we slowly recovered our route took us into a farmyard full of ice cream vans. I joked with the farmed about these vans only to be shown round the back of his farm buildings where he ran an ice cream parlour and kids play area. My legs nearly collapsed but, looking longfully at Phil for support, we decided to press on and get this walk finished.

We were soon in Eastby, where the pub has closed, and then in no time around the back of Earby. The circumventing path dropped us on a long lane out to the golf course before we turned for home across the fields and fairways. One last road crossing, this time to A59 but no problems here, just the last climb and the view of Skipton from the crest. As we stood admiring the panorama of the town beneath, an ex-soldier type marched up the hill ready to run down again. He did this every day four or five times as his fitness regime. We interrupted it briefly to get him to take out final photos. Then it was into the town, through the crowded street and along the canal to Phil’s car. A quick drink of our remaining waster supplies before the drive home. I arrived in time to see Andy Murray lose his semi-final to Nadal. Not the best end to what was a magnificent route in the most amazingly good weather I have every experience on these shores.

Grassington                             dep.     09.10

Tea at Barden Tower               11.45-12.30
Skipton                                    arr.        15.30
GPS 17.04  mls in 6hrs 45