Dales Way Revisited 3

Dales Way Revisited 3 – Ribblehead to Dent

Why does it always happen to me? We arrived at Gearstones farm in a steady downpour. It was almost as if we were not meant to complete this walk at all! The first part of the walk was very good underfoot. A solid track surface led slightly uphill to a pair of cottages:

At the top, the track widened out as a kind of turning circle for the houses. The path went off to the left, up a few stone steps and past one of the cottages. Outside the cottage was a blackboard sign saying ‘Half way? Tea, coffee and cake inside’. I had to laugh; I had been walking for all of fifteen minutes, so no, it was nothing like half way!

The path became suddenly very muddy and led steeply uphill to join a wall. It looks dry enough, but if you look closely, you can see that this is just reeds lying over a very wet path!

The map and the actual footpath seem not to be quite the same thing and, judging by some of the trails made by others passing through, I was not the only one who found this a little odd. Anyway, I ended up following the wall right to its end, past a farmhouse slightly downhill to my right. 

  I could now see a signpost just ahead, so made for that. This was where the path left the mud behind (for a while at least) and joined a farm track. 

The sign post was less than helpful. It pointed down the track to the right, which would take me back to the road I had started on, and was simply labelled ‘foot path’. Another arm of the sign pointed back the way I had just come and read ‘Gearstones, 1½ miles’. There was nothing indicating what lay to the left, or any sign saying Dales Way (or even Dalesway). I set off to the left, in part at least because I was aware that I didn’t really want to go back to the road, or back to Gearstones!

It wasn't long before 'normal service' was resumed - mud and water. By now my feet were wet, well, my left foot anyway. When I had set off from home, I had intended to wear my hiking trainers, but thought as we had had some rain in the previous days, I'd wear my boots instead. It didn't make any difference. Although  have re-proofed the boots, they are definitely letting in water along the seam near my big toe on my left foot. As you can see, the views were less than spectacular due to the low cloud!

Yes actually, this was part of the path!!:

 After a while, the track joined a minor road, where I again turned left

Just over the brow of that hill and round a corner, the Dent Head viaduct peeped into view

 The road curves round and then under a railway bridge, which in turn leads onto the viaduct. It is really a lot bigger than it appears from a distance; standing underneath it, the scale is much clearer:

A stream runs down to the road right next to the viaduct:

 And just past the viaduct, a sign welcomes the walker into Dentdale:

And again, a short walk further on, I arrived in Cowgill:

 All along the edge of the road, there were lots of wild flowers. Many of them I knew, like the meadowsweet and cranesbill, but although I reckognised the thistle, I couldn't tell you which variety it is and the last one, is that a bistort, a polygonum, an orchid or something else??

This area is meant to be renowned for its red squirrels, but they must be pretty fast, because I have never seen one, despite signs telling them to slow down!

Another picture of what ought to have been a spectacular view - well, it's a nice pasture with a pretty tree - just that you can't see the mountains behind.

The road stretched on interminably. There was a lot of road walking today - over half the distance to Cow Dub was on the road. Every now and then, I came across a small hamlet, or a lovely old farmhouse, like the one below. This one had fields across the road, accessible via a ford - not to day, I think!

I reached a hamlet called Cow Dub. How it got it's name I have no idea. Had it been in Scotland and spelled 'dubh', it would have been simple - 'dubh' means 'black', so 'black cow' was obvious. But it didn't have the 'h' and unless I have gone seriously wrong in my map reading, I'm not in Scotland.

It really was a tiny place - a farm, another house of maybe two and a large pub. I see they have their priorities right then! 

The pub was called 'The Sportsman' and for a second I did wonder what sport they could possibly be doing round here - then I looked closely at the sign and realised they meant fishing! Sorry, 'angling' - they were obviously 'angling' for it to be counted as a sport, but it's not really my idea of sport. To me, sport means getting out of breath doing something enjoyable - fishing doesn't quite fit the bill!

Just past Cow Dub, the road bears off to the right over a bridge and I took a little path along to the left

It was from about here, I realised the path seemed strangely familiar. The underfoot conditions and the scenery gave a distinct feeling of deja vu. However, it wasn't until some time later that I realised why. When I had done the walk (or part of it) with Sandra back in March, we had travelled past Dent by car and walked back to Dent. I thought we had gone beyond Dent in the direction of our walk, then done a few miles in reverse. Seems I was totally wrong about that and so I ended up walking a further four and a half miles in the pouring rain for no good reason, as this was the part of the walk I had already done. One thing I was thankful for - the alpacas were nowhere to be seen this time!

I was following the River Dee now. Sandra had informed me that part of it is dry in the summer, or from late March onwards, as it disappears underground. In March, it was a completely roaring torrent. Now, parts of it were still a raging torrent, while other parts were less so, but still wet. Anyway, I had to cross it by a foot bridge and took a photo from the top of the bridge looking down on a drier bit:

But a bit further on and we were back to raging torrent again:

Finally I arrived in Dent. OH hadn't met me on this walk, but that was not because he didn't do it. At the bridge above (known as Tommy Bridge), he had missed the way as the signage isn't great - he went straight on instead of crossing the bridge. But he did return to Dent before I did and came to meet me on the Church Bridge which is the end of this section of the walk. We were both dripping and I had been walking in a puddle on the inside of my shoes for some time, so we went into the bus shelter to change into dry socks and shoes, followed by a quick visit to the local pub to warm up and an even quicker visit to the local church, as it was open and I had never been inside. Actually, the lady who looks after it was just leaving when we arrived and had the key in the lock, but she said she only lived a couple of minutes away on foot so she left it open for us for fifteen minutes or so.