Dales Way Revisited 4

Dales Way Revisited 4 – Dent to Lincoln’s Inn Bridge

7/4/2017

Between the last section and this one, I had acquired some replacement boots as not only did mine obviously let in water, but they hadn’t dried out either!

OH dropped me at the car park and I walked down past the church and back to the bridge. 

Just by the bridge is a narrow ‘squeeze stile’ on the left (so named because you really do have to squeeze through them). 

I took a photo of the bridge, then set off through the field.

A farmer was busy cutting the hay, making the most of the dry weather. It really has been incredibly wet this year so far L

The path follows the river (on my right) across the top of a bank built to minimise the amount of water flooding the fields when it rains and the river floods. It seemed to be doing a pretty good job so far.

There were some pretty wild flowers growing along the edge of the path. The pale ones are harebells; the yellow ones are a vetch of some kind, but I have no idea which variety.

Barth Bridge came into sight, where I crossed a road

Then followed the edge of the river again, passing over a footbridge, spanning a stream that flowed into the river

Then through fields and a nice example of a field barn

After this, the path became covered in tree roots, making passing more difficult and concentration was centred on where I was putting my feet rather than on the views around

Ellers was a lovely farm house, just renovated. It is pretty isolated in terms of other houses around it, but it would suit me perfectly!

I was now walking on a narrow lane, but there was no fear of traffic. However, I was not entirely alone

Eventually the lane met a country road which I crossed at a place called Gate. On the opposite corner was indeed a gate, which seemed to serve little or no purpose, except to house a letter box in its surrounding wall

The path headed up past the right hand end of the wall

…before opening out to lovely views, with farms, fields and trees all around

It was somewhere along here that I encountered a familiar face

There are some odd signs in the countryside – this one being no exception:

If I am to keep the gate closed, then how am I to get through it? Do they expect me to climb over it? J

Still plenty of signposts; this one to Frostrow Fell

The gorgeous garden of this cottage definitely deserved a mention:

Not to mention the quaint cottages

And, of course, the red phone box

Arriving at the place where the road and the lane met, a car and trailer came tearing round the corner at quite some speed; I had to jump into the hedge to avoid being clipped by the trailer! We were now at Milthrop Bridge and it was time for dinner. There was an interesting church and tower as we walked into Sedbergh, to where the van was parked:

Finding nowehere serving food in Sedbergh, we drove into Kendal, which was about 10 miles away and ate at a Wetherspoons:

Once dinner was eaten, we drove back to Milthrop Bridge and I continued on towards Lincoln’s Inn Bridge. It was approaching dusk, but I wanted to complete this section of the walk today, so I set off anyway. OH was to meet me at Lincoln’s Inn Bridge and we would camp for the night

Over the bridge and through a narrow gate on the left

Through some woodland and along a walled trench; this was quite off because the trench seemed to have been dug deliberately right in the middle of the wood and a wall built either side to support the earth:

I missed my way slightly and found I was unable to exit the wood, but a short (100 yards or less) backtrack and I found the branch in the path that took me to the gate and alongside the wall of the woodland, but on the outside of the wood.

I passed a curious structure known as the ‘Pepperpot’ (for obvious reasons, when you see it). Oddly, it is not mentioned at all in my guidebook.

Passing round the edge of some school playing fields (probably the same fields my nephew played rugby on, as he attended school at Sedbergh), I saw a lovely house that I couldn’t resist photographing:

Climbing up past the house, I came to another narrow country lane between at Birks, which is little more than a stone built farm house

Sometimes, the signs appear less than helpful:

... and lower down on the same post:

Turning left, I passed a huge factory that had been a former cotton mill, which appeared to be having some renovation work done on it:

After the mill, the path left the lane, branching left, and ran alongside the river.

The path then ran through fields and a section through some light woodland. I heard a deep rumbling noise and wondered if it was thundering somewhere. The noise went on for some time, so I looked around to see if it might have been some farm machinerly. As I turned, a huge herd of pigs, snorting and rumbling, came rushing towards me. I was very thankful there was a strong fence between them and me!!

Shortly after that, I crested the top of a rise and the view ahead of me was stunning – the Howgills are among my favourite hills anywhere:

A railway once ran across this area. There were steps provided in the steep bank

After crossing the track and descending the less steep bank on the other side, I turned to look back at the bridge that took the trains across the river:

The river was very calm at this point and mirrorlike:

Again, the path led through meadows and in the distance the hills:

Eventually, the path led back beside the river. One gate through to the riverside path was so firmly shut I had to climber over the gate, rather than opening it; the gate clasp is firmly embedded in the trunk of a tree!

As I approached the road at Brigflatts, I saw what I presume to be Ingmire Hall in the distance:

Almost immediately after this, I found myself on the road again:

with a signpost to assure me I was still on the right track:

A little way along the road, I passed a familiar campsite – where Sandra and I had camped when we tried this walk in March and where we had finally reached the decision that I would not be walking again L

Past the campsite and a little further along the road, the path turned off into fields again:

From here I could clearly see the Howgill fells, lit up in the late evening sunshine:

Finally, a signpost naming my destination:

It was getting dark now, but there was still some beautiful light in the sky:

I walked along what had once been a green lane, with ancient hedgerows either side, but all that remained now were the old stumps, which were valiantly trying to regrow:

I passed through a farm and set several dogs barking. I couldn’t see them and presumably they couldn’t see me, but they certainly knew I was there! The path reverted to open meadows by the river once again, as Lincoln’s Inn Bridge came into view:

Within a few more moments, I could see the stile that led onto the road where I was to meet OH

The van was parked just to the right of the bridge

but OH was nowhere in sight; neither of course was Storm. Not having any keys to the van,I waited a while, all the time being eaten alive by midges – ugh! Then I realised where they were, as I could hear the dogs from the farm setting off a cacophony once again. About ten minutes later, Storm and OH came into view, but it was by this time too dark to take a photograph. We climbed into the van and drove back to Sedbergh to find somewhere to sleep for the night.

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.