Sunday, 27 December 2015

Wainwright's Coast to Coast - Day 8

To better enjoy the photos, please click on them to increase their size.

Saturday 19 September, 2015

Kirkby Stephens to Keld - 18.5 kms
                                            7 1/2 hours walking

It was nearly 9.30 when we finally left Kirkby Stephens, after our visits to the local bakery and church. We were delighted to set off under sunny, blue skies. On the outskirts, we crossed the River Eden via Frank's bridge. [my husband's name] Research has uncovered that this 17th century corpse lane bridge was named after Francis Birbeck, a brewer. There are stones at the end for the coffins to rest on.

It was a really pleasant walk that gradually climbed out of town. It involved some road walking, until we arrived at Hartley Fell. There were occasional glimpses of the 'pimples on the hill' if we looked up. When resting, we turned to the west, to gasp at how far we had come the previous day.
Kirkby Stephens is at the base of the fell and the cross marks roughly where we had hiked from the previous day.
                         Sheep were grazing.
Hang gliders were making the most of a glorious day.
Deep green moss was hiding among the reedy plants beside the trail.
Hounds were out being exercised and disappeared across the fields hunting for rabbits.

We appreciated a dry structure to rest and relax on with a snack.
Who can spot the  Nine Standards on the horizon?
It was a long, gradual climb. The higher we went, the ground became damper and we had to scamper across some of the boggier areas. 
A rare bridge helped us across here. Thankfully we were unaware of the myriad of bogs that awaited us on the other side of this Pennine watershed.

Finally we reached the remarkable Nine Standards Riggs, cairns built in a variety of sizes and shapes. Close up they were impressive, as were the views, but the cold, blustery wind was sweeping in from the east, so we didn't linger.
The origin of the Nine 'stone men' is a mystery. According to Wainwright, they are very ancient and marked on 18th century maps. They could go back as far as the Romans or to the Jacobite rebellion. They seemed too perfect for something so old. I have just now seen a reference that stated they have been continually rebuilt.

From the cairns we continued to gradually climb higher, on a broad but damp path, to White Mossey Hill. 
                              Looking back to the 9 Standard Riggs.
We thought the limestone would bring us relief from the damp, peaty trail, but it was so uneven we had to be extremely careful not to twist an ankle.

At this point below, we had to turn left onto the 'blue route', once we had crossed the deep, peaty, drainage channel. 
Due to severe erosion of the peat by walkers, there are 3 designated routes and they are rotated during the hiking season. 
Yet again we were relieved that the weather Gods were smiling down on us. I had read blogs of other hikers who traipsed across here in wind, sleet, snow, fog and heavy rain or a mixture of these. The weather can change so rapidly that one could easily be caught out. It would be so exhausting and frightening to be out in. We were complaining about sinking to our ankles. Imagine sinking to your knees time and time again. 
We had assumed that once we crossed here, and began our gentle descent to Whitsunday Beck, that we would fly along the grassy path before us. We were constantly deceived by the vegetation before us and the next couple of hours were a hard slog, as we navigated around, over and through the quagmire.

Approaching Whitsundale Beck the beauty of these wild moorlands was vast and sprawling. Seemingly uninhabited, but as on other days when walking in apparent isolation, the bleating of sheep grazing would be heard, even if they could not be seen. 

A welcome break for lunch near Whitsundale Beck, before we followed its path down to Keld.

The worst was behind us, but we were never allowed to become complacent.


Not long after seeing pheasants amongst the heather, we were mightily relieved to find ourselves on a sealed narrow road. Soon after, we rounded a bend and quickened our pace when we spotted the famous Ravenseat Farm and hoped Amanda was home and not out with the sheep.

The story of Ravenseat Farm - Telegraph

 Owen, 40 from Huddersfield lives on a 2,000 acre hill farm in the Yorkshire Dales with her husband Clive, who is 21 years her senior at 61 and their brood who are aged between 14 and 5 weeks old.

She shunned a career in modelling and left her comfortable town life in Huddersfield to look after more than 1,000 sheep ..... and now her 9 children.

After trading the rat race for the sheep 
amble, Amanda now feeds 11 mouths on just 130 pounds a week and says 'I'm living the life I dreamed of.

Our good fortune continued and it was not long before we were enjoying coffee, scones, jam and cream beside the gurgling beck which we had been following.

We had now entered Yorkshire and the picturesque Swale Valley, with its distinctive field barns and rock walls that are a legacy of upland hill farming. The barns were built in the hay meadows to house the annual crop. The cattle were kept in the byre end of the barn during the winter months. Built around 1750 - 1850 they have a density of one to every 100 metres. Now the farmers are having to spend time and money to repair them. 

The remainder of the hike was most enjoyable with the barns or laithes, green fields, sheep, tumbling beck and waterfalls.

                              How Edge Scar
                     Wainwath Force [Falls]
Lower Wainwath Force immediately outside our very comfortable bunkhouse accommodation.

We were able to order a delicious home cooked meal and drinks from our hostess and relax in comfy chairs around a table with other hikers. A most pleasant evening ensued with the sound of the beck lulling us off to a good night's sleep later in the evening.

It was a demanding day, but again I relished all the challenges and thrived on the beauty of this seemingly remote area. I hope you too have enjoyed the day, especially without all the mud. I would love to read your comment.


  1. Yes, it looked like a very challenging day, slogging through the mud. I really liked those cairns, and the Yorkshire countryside is beautiful!

  2. Another superb sharing. Loved the way the pheasant was looking at you.

  3. I'm reading these in the wrong order. I shall have to go back and start at day 1! It seems very desolate, like Jane Eyre country. I've been in a peat bog (well next to it) in Germany. I'm not sure if they have them in France. The life one dreams of certainly varies from person to person doesn't it?