Pennine Journey Westgate to Blanchland

The heat of the sun got me out of bed and I was away by 9:00 ish (ok, I know its not early, but if you’d been to Darts practise at the Hare and Hounds….)  I called at Charlie’s and had coffee….
A bit later I slugged up the hill out of Westgate. various people stopped to chat. It took a while.
Eventually, at a strategic bend in the road, I headed off along a contour with a lane on it and this took me towards Heights Quarry. it was all very lovely so far.

The route follows the old railway line to Rookhope and its all very lovely with some smashing Weardale views until a deep gorge suddenly appears at the feet. There is a moment of doubt (cos its a big drop) – but by poking around, a path on the left is found which drops down gently to the beck and then appears on the other side of the gorge without much at all in the way of drama. For geologists, there’s a very nice mined-out mineral vein here.
For about a kilometre after this point, its best to keep your left eye closed. The path goes alongside heights Quarry, which is still working and is very busy. Its well waymarked and fenced off from any danger and eventually industry is passed and the intrepid Pennine Journier pops out on the other side into old railway cuttings with bits of woodland, lots of flowers and many buzzing insects. Its green and damp and beautiful.

After that, the Weardale Way goes easily along the railway line to Rookhope where it meets the cyclists’ Coast to Coast route and, of course, the Rookhope Inn where a short period of celebration is allowed.

After “lunch”, I climbed the Bolts law incline, a bit wearily and followed PJ instructions to go and bag Bolts Law, scene of recent solstice partying. There’s a lot of grouse living in the Bolts Law heather, and its very heavily managed, so if I had a worry about the PJ route, it would be here. I’m not sure the shooting estate will be too chuffed about this route going through here. There could well be conflict. True, its open access, but its not open all the time, and Journiers with doggies will have to find another route.

There is, in fact, a perfectly good footpath system from Rookhope running up by Stogel Clough and then over the North East slope of Bolts Law, crossing the summit and then down to Ramshaw. The path down to Ramshaw, though, is a mess. its difficult to follow, has what appears top be an old leat which is crossed on a rotten footbridge, and there’s electric fences. And lots of thistles. But its a right of way and can’t be closed. It just needs a bit of TLC, really. I followed this path down to Ramshaw, as best I could. I might report this to Durham County Council. I’m not sure its bad enough, though.

After Ramshaw, there’s some quiet lanes and some woodland footpaths to Baybridge, then a pleasant riverside path to Blanchland.
There’s no phone signal in Blanchland, so I used the phonebox to ring home. I got a minute for 60p. 60 PENCE for a minute.  Absolute robbery.  I allowed myself to be exploited to the sum of three pints of Black Sheep in the Lord Crewe Arms whilst waiting for Maggie to arrive.


And that, folks, is the sum of my Pennine Journey sampler.
It might not be exactly the route in the book. It won’t be far out though. Its not an official route anyway… 
Today’s was 11 miles and 1300 feet.

Bolts Law Solstice Stuff

The knipemobile, still  not yet being mobile, I was going to catch the bus to Stanhope and then walk up to Bolts Law for a bivi. As it happens, Maggie got home from Halifax and, after tea, she took me to Parkhead, just above Stanhope and I wandered along the old railway line for the three or four miles or whatever it is, and then through a bit of deep heather to the top of Bolts Law.

Bolts Law  summit is at 540 metres and it overlooks a substantial section of the Durham coastline, roughly from Gateshead to Easington. I could also see Cross Fell and as far South as Mickle Fell – and some hills which must be at the other side of the Solway. So – a big view.
I had a brew and rang Brian. He was in the bath. I could hear him bombing his rubber duck. He’d be here by eleven, after picking up Charlie from Westgate.

And so, me and the midgies kept a short vigil till it got chilly, when I climbed into the bivi bag and snuggled down. The midgies stayed outside, got bored and went off somewhere else.
I’d put a thermarest inside the bag and a very old sleeping bag with “Blacks of Greenock” written across the foot. Its a damn fine and toasty sleeping bag. I fell asleep, just after snapping the sunset picture and having a brief swig of Co-op Special 40% proof Not Highland Malt.
A couple of hours drifted by.
The phone rang. It was dark. “The navigator has failed to navigate” said the voice. “And we’re lost”

They described being near a chimney. I knew where they were – it was the lead mine flue chimney from a few blog posts ago (pay attention at the back…) and peering in the appropriate direction, I could see some headlights. I flashed me liddle petzl at them. The headlights flashed back. I gave further and better instructions and the headlights set off back up the hill.
An hour or so later, it was even darker and the phone rang again “We’re setting off” said the voice.
I kept a better watch and soon, two lights appeared on the track below. We signalled to each other for a while, then a light appeared close by and a voice I didn’t recognise said “Did you call the mountain rescue?”
Luckily, it turned out to be Colin, the landlord from the Hare and Hounds at Westgate. He’d brought Southern Comfort, sausages, bread and beefburgers.
Brian and Charlie turned up shortly afterwards with whisky, quails eggs (I kid you not) and chocolate biscuits.
A party followed
Some staggering was done. We pontificated and put the world to rights. There was a little singing – mainly from Brian. We had a small cooking fire on a rock and a catering style iron pan.
About dawn, Charlie and Colin set off roughly in the direction of Rookhope whilst Brian snored underneath a flysheet. I returned to my cosy bag – it being perishing cold just then.
About half eight or nine, in full daylight and warming sun, I brewed up again, had porridge and we lazed about for an hour or so.

Eventually, Brian went off to find his car and I wandered down the hill to find water. There wasn’t any water. Its hasn’t rained, y’know.  There was some brown smudgy stuff in an old reservoir and some iron-red liquid seeping out of the ground, but the streams were dry. So I mooched over the moor and down the other side to Rookhope where the pub serves shandies and beers and there’s a bit of crack. I stayed a while. There were cyclists outside in their sexy pants.

A hot afternoon’s wander down by the beck to Weardale and then along the flowery riverbank brought me to the cafe’s and pubs of Stanhope – ideal if you have a bus to wait for.
I was feeling specially fragged by this time – too much scotch and not enough sleep and water. So I’ve spent 24 hours dozing and drinking water and only I can now think of more walkies to do.

The walking was 14 miles altogether with just about 800 feet of uphill…… 
So that was the solstice. I may have missed the crucial event.
I expect there’ll be another one along in a while.
Its all downhill till Christmas now, but…..
Incidentally, the photos are a bit limited as the camera doesn’t do night time. Hopefully, Charlie and Brian will supply a few piccies in due course. If there are, I’ll insert some more and publish some separately. There are no pictures of Colin and Charlie because it was mainly dark when they were there….
Worralaff, though..  We really need to grow up.