The little parish church in Stainforth was absolutely heaving for the occasion of John Manning’s illustrated talk about his 2700 mile walkies up the Pacific Crest Trail in America.
And afterwards, much to the delight of it’s landlord,so was the Craven Heifer. Many familiar TGO-type people and backpackers club types were present, including the redoubtable Alan Sloman and Lynnie , the undoubtable Phil Lambert and his lovely Mistress of the Lash, Tini. Somewhere around the umpteenth pint, we decided to go up Penyghent in the morning.
As it happened, Lynnie made the wise decision to do something less energetic and went bird watching in Bowland, so it was just the four of us setting off from Horton church on Saturday morning.
Tini had no pack at all, whilst Phil was carrying a wardrobe wrapped up in nylon and Alan had what appeared to be a posing pouch containing, it turned out, a boiled egg and not what I first assumed…. He also had his new jacket on. It was green. Very green.
We scrambled up the rocky bits of Penyghent’s prow and snaffled the only four spaces at the summit shelter. A fatdog dog approached me and bit off and swallowed the elastoplast from my finger (recycling tin washing accident). There’s no accounting for taste. Unless you’re an accountant, then there’s a formula you can use. I hope the dog survives.
We gave a lecture on trig points and their uses and I described the view, pointing out Pen y Fan, The Nile delta, Skipton castle and the Arnison Centre in Nelson.
We made off towards Plover Hill before anybody got a map out.
The actual summit of Plover Hill was barricaded off by a big stone wall, but at least there were plover in evidence (“peep”) Tini was underwhelmed by the lack of access to the little cairn almost on the highest point, but with a fine view of Littondale.
We left again and tiptoed down a steep bit with some scary crags underneath. Phil took out his frustration on Alan using a hammer he’d found at the back of his wardrobe. We achieved the bridleway at the bottom It was 3 and a bit miles to Horton. Tini blasphemed and , no doubt, Phil would pay for this by being chained up in the coalshed. If only the Lamberts had a coalshed.
On the way back to the Golden Lion in Horton, we paid a brief visit to Hull Pot – a dirty great hole in the ground with waterfalls in it. Nobody fell in, which was a bonus.
Quite soon later, we managed to find the Golden Lion and then it was time for home. In my case, this was a lonely tent in a field in Stainforth. I repaired to the Craven Heifer to cheer meself up. This worked. Its great when a plan comes together (BA Barracus)
We did about 8 miles and 1800 feet up uphill. This may well have been a bit of a shock for the flatlanders.
Incidentally, I’m counting this as one of the Yorkshire dales 2000 foot tops walks. I’m not going back to do it again for a while.
Thewre's also a bit about this walk here http://alansloman.blogspot.com/2010/03/ingles-on-ingleborough.html
Late edit: and some bonus holiday snaps at http://alansloman.blogspot.com/2010/03/yorkshire-dales-snaps-from-weekend.html