Short(ish) Doggy Walks From Pietowers #1 and #2

 There's something about quiet streets and no aircraft that reminds me of the streets of Earby on a Sunday afternoon in July when most of the town had gone off to Morecambe and Blackpool for a week when all the mills closed down for holiday week. There's no actual restriction on walking at the moment, although dark clouds of disapproval may be gathering just over the horizon. But, to stay off the ventilator, it seems a good idea to either retain some lung fitness, or, if you haven't really got lung fitness, you might decide that with all this spare time, you could go out and get some. This might well involve following your pet dog up some steep contours for a while. Having experienced the Foot and Moth crisis in 2001 when all rights of way were closed and an enforced lay-off for several months due to me having a dicky ticker, I understand just how easy it is for an old fart like me to lose fitness. So, you gotta keep it up, innit?

 I know it says two walks in the title of this blogpost, but I actually did three. Its just that I did one twice....  Providing I can keep this up and, bearing in mind that LTD is very keen, I'm hoping to do a different route every day for as long as it takes to run out of routes. The first two are both 5 miles and 500 feet of lovely, brown uphill contours. (Downhill contours are also brown by the way, it's just that they don't count)

 I am commending these trundles to anybody who might like to try them. There's plenty of space to spread out although they're a lot more popular than they were a week ago when people had to go to work and the sprogs were at school. It seems that walking about , usually solo, sometimes in pairs, and sometimes with kids and dogs in tow is now the Thing To Do. As secretary of Crook and Weardale Ramblers, I think this is brilliant.

 Both of these two routes would start at the Health Centre car park on Hope Street and there's maps at the end of this post should anybody want to try to follow them. They're both relatively easy, very low on risk (take care crossing the roads) and have friendly ponies, spring flowers, skylarks, curlews and chiff-chaffs and all that kinda stuff. And they're doggy friendly.

 And on Dowfold Hill , which, be warned, has a short but brutal uphill struggle to the stile at the top rewarded by a fine view of Crook and the North Pennines and North Yorks Moors, PLUS four fabby-whizz new stiles installed quite recently by Groundworks (but it was our idea!)

 Maps below: I went clockwise, but this is not compulsory.

Things Missing in 2020 and Things to Do Instead

 The Big Thing wot's disappeared from the list of events planned, and, even arranged, for 2020 is The Great Outdoors Challenge (TGO). For those who don't know, this is an annual event where walkers get the privilege of walking from the West Coast of Scotland to the East. Walkers have to be self-supporting and can do pretty much whatever they want, after first having their plans checked by a vetter who, when satisfied, signs-off the route.

 Most of the TGO is great fun (most!), and people come back year after year to do the walk, meet old friends, get wet, some get drunk a few times, some have outrageous numbers of Full Scottish breakfasts. Pretty much everybody (with a few exceptions) will have several wild camps on the way and will be eating dehydrated food....

 2020 would have been the sixteenth time I'd done the walk (assuming that I would have finished it!). Most of these have been solo. My three children , who aren't children anymore, have also completed it, and The Lad walked with me in 2019 on his fourth trip. The photos below are all from that trip. The three above are from training trips, which brings me to....

 ...training. Training is very much an excuse to go backpacking. We've had just one gentle "training" trip this year - with JJ and Beryl who is not really called Beryl. This was a two-night, three day walk in the fog and gloom hills just a bit to the right of Barbon. It was fun. It was cold. And it was damp. Ideal conditions, in fact.

 The reason I went with these two was that we'd planned to do the TGO together next May. We had a route which our vetter described as "interesting" which went from Oban to Glen Etive to Bridge of Orchy to Loch Rannoch, round the back of Schiehallion, to Aberfeldy to Kirkmichael, Glen Isla, Forfar and Lunan Bay. It was a straightish and short route but a good one.

 Then somebody in China ate a mandolin or something and everything fell over. Our next training walk was to be to Lanarkshire. Companions dropped out early on, but I was determined to go and had stocked up on dehydrated scoff and gas and had briefed the dog. On the Friday I was buying trail food (I was going to try goats cheese and wraps) and was planning to do the packing on the Sunday for an early start. But the virus situation escalated and loads of people turned up at the usual places (Snowdon, Malham, Glencoe) and the A9 was chocablock with voluntary refugees seeking isolation in huge numbers together. There was a general consensus that this was daft. Boris mentioned it in a press briefing and I didn't pack my pack.

 Me and Beryl also had a trip planned to Cadair Idris, to attempt to complete  the route I'd tried with several others a few years ago but which was taken over by some "experienced"  people brought along by one of the group members. Basically, they, and a windy day, took off in the wrong direction together with the group. I determined never to organise another such walk with a group bigger than two or three others, and, mainly just me and Dawn, or just me and LTD.  The bigger the group, it seems to me and the more negotiation and compromise is involved. It starts with just one saying "can I come"  and they bring somebody else, and somebody else turns up who wants to alter the route to a better way in another direction and ... and.....  But that trip became a virus victim as well, so the route is incomplete.
Then, there's Robin Hood's Picking Rods. This is linked to the TGO challenge gathering which, this year was to be in Hayfield. Previous gatherings were at the Snake Pass Inn. One of these was cancelled due to snow.

 I managed a few more walks with Crook Ramblers and the March Long Walk in Northumberland, buy the writing was on the wall and , now we are limited to local walks.  This may not be too bad provided it doesn't go on too long. But it's made me plan and put some structure to my daily doggy walks with LTD.

 So, this is The Plan. I get to go out once a day "for exercise". Crook isn't so bad for getting out into the countryside. In fact, it's pretty easy, although the countryside is on the far, lower ends of North Pennine ridges. The North Pennines, being notoriously wild and a bit empty are, nevertheless quite gentle. The contours are mainly socially isolating and donl;t get too close to each other. And so with the local countryside.

And, it seems, that there's a brand-new constituency of walkers. These are well spread out and don't get too close to each other. There's lots of space. They're families, blokes with dogs. Girlfriends out together. Teenagers. Mums and Grannies. My impression is that they're making the best of it and that most of them haven't done much in the way of exploring the countryside before, or, at least, recently. There's always a silver lining innit?

 So, I'll be systematically working my way around Crook in a clockwise direction (widdershins is bad luck), doing doggy walks of 5 or so miles, maybe up to 7. There'll be a map and some pictures and, maybe, some locals will pick these up of That Interweb and, maybe it will inform about where it's possible to go. I think I'm stuck around Crook, but outlying villages will be included: Billy Row, Stanley Crook, Tow Law (maybe), Howden le Wear, Willington......  It's summat to do anyway.

Pic below is dinner at St Drostan's hostel at Tarfside - an establishment taken over by TGO peeps every year to provide refreshments, breakfasts, dinner, sympathy and hot showers before challengers make the final lurch towards the North Sea.

Boredom Brought The Mojo Back

 I hadn't realised how much I'd neglected to blog until Quinn (a reader from the USA) made a comment asking if I was OK. I am OK, in fact I'm blooming. But Things have taken a turn - it's this Covid-19 bug and the consequent semi-lock down that we're starting to enjoy in the UK. So, having been limited by Uncle Boris and His Scientists (fab name for a group by the way) to local walks, for local people, and only once a day, I', determined to write about it because, apart from anything else, it's historical and, there's always a chance that I might not actually survive. I must say, that having worked in the NHS for a long time in a previous life and, early in that career, coming across quite a lot of death, the prospect of shaking off the mortal coil doesn't really bother me all that much. The really disturbing thing is whatever people find on your browsing history and whatever it is hidden under the bed.  But before I embark on anything more useful, I'll do a little catch-up.

Me and LTD have been fairly busy. Up to today, we've walked 378 miles in 47 walks.

Some of this has been Crook and Weardale Ramblers (I'm the Secretary y'know) and I've lead walks for Wolsingham Wayfarers and had a walk for Eric Borley's Wednesday and Saturday Walking Group cancelled due to atrocious weather. The winter of 2020 has been noted for atrocious weather, two named Atlantic storms and it's been raining since October. Has this put us off, though?

 

 

Has it buggery! We've done Long Walks - one during storm Ciara off which there are no pictures because a wet camera is a sad camera. All streams were much bigger than they should have been and it was fairly windy. Diane worked out the route and was determined, despite the best efforts of the Met Office and the Forestry Commission who closed part of the route, to do a 20 mile walk and, in this scheme she was particularly successful. We expected to get wet and we got wet.

A second 20-miles went over Simonside in wet and windy weather - over some outrageously rough stuff to Elsdon , passing Winter's Gibbet, a stupidly spooky spot where the very bones of the murderer and robber Mr Winter fell out of the cage he was in post-execution and mouldered gently in the grass below starting in  approximately 1797. He shouldn't have done it is all I can say.

An April long walk on Easter Sunday seems to be in some danger of postponement. (never say the "cancel" word)



In February, Dawn hired a cottage in North Wales and four of us and LTD enjoyed most of a week where it only rained right at the end. We bagged local hills and took turns at cooking (I managed to put on 1.5 kg) and we also drove onto the beach at Black Rock Sands and me and Dawn had a dip in Cardigan Bay. It was the coldest water I'd ever experienced, but the upside of this is the remarkable effect this has on your mood. A later dip at Druridge Bay, just avoiding being wiped out by a huge wave had the same effect on me. I must say that dipping in cold water, whilst it seems counter-intuitive, is quite good fun, once you get out...

And then Covid-19 crept up. We had a pretty good walks programme at Crook Ramblers and we'd embarked on all kinds of footpath work and early plans for a recruitment campaign - involving our Membership Secretary appearing on local radio - when it all stopped. Our walk along Mallerstang Edge couldn't be a Ramblers walk, but four of us had a "private" walk, and then the shut-down. I am confined to local doggy walks. I can do one per day. I am doing one per day. But there is more to this than meets the eye....

Backpacking Barbon to Barkin Top and Back

 There's been a bit of a hiatus in the blogging, mainly due, I think, to the busyness of my walking and other activities (Christmas and so-on) But, I'm determined to restart for 2020 because, according to my diary (OK, it's a spreadsheet) - 2020 could be quite busy too.  So.....

 

I may or may not have mentioned this before (Too busy to look ... can't be arsed looking back over blog posts, me , JJ and Beryl , who is not really called Beryl at all, applied to do the 2020 TGO Challenge which happens in May. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned TGO challenges before in this blog (too busy to check) so regular readers will know what it is and any others who don't know probably do know about Google. Sooooo......  Me and JJ and Beryl (wot's not called Beryl) and Lucky The Dog determined to have a few days backpacking in a kind of practise sort of thing, but not really a practise, but just because we know each other and we all do wild camping etc. and we found an unusual space in our spreadsheets where all of us were available at the same time. Soooooooooooooo.........

 ...off we went to Devil's Bridge at Kirkby Lonsdale which was to be the intended start of our adventure until we decided that Barbon would be quieter and a better place to abandon two cars. It was foggy. It was murky. It was a bit drizzly. And we were a bit late, so we walked from Barbon until we found a nice place to camp, which happened after just two of the Queen's miles - a little platform next to a waterfall at Blind Beck. It went dark. It got mistier. An owl hooted. Lucky The Dog snuggled into his Woofbag, stuck his nose up his bum and didn't move much at all for the next 15 hours, other than to scoff a dentastick, a bonio, two handfuls of kibble and a pouch of Pedigree Vital. He had the same meal at dawn the next morning after snoring and farting the night away in between lively running-about-barking dreams.

 We progressed - up the track to Bullpot Farm and into Easegill, which turned out to be not so Easy. (I done a joke, there.....) We fought our way up Easegill through the mist and out into sunshine and on to the top of Crag Hill where the clag returned. We briefly bagged Great Coum and in looming darkness, stumbling over slippery scree and thickening fog, pitched at the first available flat bit next to a small stream. The night streamed in through the flaps and dampened everything inside the tent. In the meantime, Beryl, wot's not really called Beryl at all , provided a rendition of "Flower of Scotland" as I was waiting for my Beef Stroganoff to rehydrate (15 minutes, don't eat the oxygen eater and don't forget to flare your bottom. (That is to say, the bottom of the food pouch thingy, or you get crunchy bits where no crunchy bits ought to be)

Once again, Lucky The Dog took to his cosy stink pit , following almost exactly the same routine as the night before. The night was warm and damp and mizzly and damp and dark. Very very dark. And long, although, technically, a little bit shorter than the night before, it being after the solstice and everything.

Not really very early next morning (we're on holiday here, this is not a route march, this is supposed to be fun and civilised) - after my third half a tonne of porridge, we set off again - downhill this time, to the Barbon-Dentdale road where it was still foggy. The downhillness didn't last long and after a lunch by a small beck which, along with some cheese and a tot or two of cheap whisky, provided me with a short but unnerving dream, the next night,  about having worms up my nose after JJ pointed out that the water we used for brewing-up had "wrigglies" in it. No more downhill for a bit. Instead, we lurched and heaved ourselves uphill to Barkin Top and Calf Top - also known as Growling Bottom (in-joke can't be arsed explaining  you would struggle to understand. And, as I thought that my GPS was faulty , but in reality, I'd switched it to "battery save " mode where the screen goes blank after a few seconds, I took the opportunity to navigate by compass to descend The Calf, which is the ridge who's top is called Calf Top innit? This went remarkably well and we soon eventually found ourselves at a lovely camping spot beside a beck of clear and clean water of the kind that makes lovely tea and very nice chili con carne in a pouch. Lucky followed his now well established camp routine, only this time, because we didn't have far to go, he enjoyed an extra couple of hours in bed.

 And so, after a brief trespass where we ignored some "get out, clear off, you can't come in here" signs; followed by a little quiet road walking, we stumbled in to the Barbon Inn, where we were all made very welcome and where we had lunch and jinkies. JJ might have mentioned how nice the Timothy Taylor's beer was a few times.....   and that was that. We're all off in different directions, it seems, over the next few months, so it seems most unlikely that we'll be able to get together again before the actual TGO challenge. We're hoping to walk from Oban to Lunan Bay. Our vetter says our route is "interesting".  Below is a pic of Lucky The Dog fully rested after a marathon sleep of almost 15 hours. That's FIFTEEN hours. Without even a break. Remarkable....

Long Walks - Waskerley and Stuff Like That There

 

 

Plan A was to walk around the head of Weardale from Cowshill - a route mainly above 2000 feet. I had a sinking feeling that this was too ambitious for a short winter's day, so, at almost the last minute I decided to repeat the walk we did last Christmas. This provides 21 miles of  easy walking which can be done at some speed, provided the tracks weren't frozen like wot they were last year.

 

 

 

And so, me, LTD, Bailey The Other Dog, Li Yang, and Diane and David, fresh from their trip to Annapurna Base Camp (no, really..) turned up at Wolsingham Train Station Car Park at dawn (roughly 8:00 a.m) Li Yang had brought a prezzie for Lucky; a lovely thermal/padded winter coat, which he changed into in the car park.

 Conditions were somewhat better than last year (probably disastrous global warming, I shouldn't wonder) - and the tracks weren't slippery at all. There was a thin cover of fresh snow and an equally thin and lazy wind which didn't bother going around a body, but insinuated itself through the clothing in a more direct fashion. On the upside, it was nice and sunny.

 So, we walked up through the mud and cowmuck of Thistlewood and onto the more solid moors, having First Lunch in the shelter of the trees in a suntrap by the  broken fences of the WW2 ammo dump near Waskerley.

 The walk up to Park Head was simply a matter of battering on up the gentle incline and battering off down the other side, turning on to the moor at the top of Crawleyside and finding a lovely suntrap in the quarry above Stanhope Dene for Lunch Number Two.

Riverside paths and roads and more pastures took us back to the start, arriving at about five o'clock, which is a bit quick for this group. (It's a bit quick for me too as it happens.) It went dark, of course but we did spot Santa on the Christmas Town Express which passed us going West as we went East. There IS a Santa after all. Those 8 year-olds at New Road Junior School in Earby in 1960 (ish) had lied. I sort of knew this all along, though. There were elves on the train too, so that proves it..... 
21 miles and a tad over 2100 feet of upness.
LTD loves his new coat. Thanks Li Yang...