Step 6 - Haltwhistle to Dufton

28th March 2024. 

Live blogging? Let’s see how this goes. 

Currently on our way to Carlisle in the car (2 hours) to catch the train to Haltwhistle (half an hour) where we’ll stay the night before beginning the Pennine Way early tomorrow morning.

Weather looking uncertain this Easter weekend but looking forward to it nonetheless. Day 2 has us walking from Alston and wild camping somewhere before the first peak, or we may take advantage of a bothy known as Greg’s Hut before we do a long walk on day 3, ending our journey in Dufton. 

Friday 29th March.The sun is shining. 8.30am. About to head off fuelled by a full English! Concerned by the fact that Robert is walking on an ankle that he twisted, running, last weekend. He insists he will be okay, as per. Let’s hope so. (Retrospectively, he was! Except for the worst blisters ever, caused by replacing the insoles of his boots).

Beautiful sunny walk along the South Tyne trail including crossing the Lambley Viaduct. Such a joy to be outdoors and not staring at a computer. We reached Slaggyford just as it began to rain and sheltered in the Buffet Car Cafe with hot tea. Then lo and behold a tiny train arrived, Old Rusty, and the temptation to take it our remaining 3 miles to Alston was just too great. 20 minutes later and hurrah for hot baths and clean dogs in the Alston House Hotel. The adventure continues tomorrow. 

30th March 2024.

Headed to the Spar for bananas (for tomorrow's porridge) and sarnies, fuelled by another full veggie breakfast. We pondered whether mole hills are formed when the moles burrow in or out of their tunnels? This is the kind of shit we have time to ponder on these walks!

We reached the Pennine Way in Garigill where the Post office was disappointingly shut meaning no hot pies for us lunch. Eating, an endless preoccupation, as you've no doubt gathered!

We saw crows, lapwings, curlews, oyster catchers and red and black grouse (like small, grunting chickens) as we walked across the moor, watching the clouds rotate and drift and reform. Exquisite birdsong.  And for lunch, the best egg sandwich and ready salted crisps ever, which I'd turned my nose up at, in the morning. Amazing how outdoors and hunger combines to create culinary delights. 

Am constantly plagued by ear worms on these walks. This time it was Terry Hall and The Specials singing 'I go out on Friday night and I get home on Saturday morning' and 'The lunatics are taking over the asylum', mostly just those short phrases, repeated ad nauseum. I'm writing this up just before going on the next walk, a whole year later, and I've just replanted those ear worm seeds, dammit!

Lucky tadpoles.

Unlucky tadpoles.

The ones that made it from last year. 

We camped outside Greg’s Hut that night, just before setting off for the highest peak on the Pennine Way. It was a wild and windy, chilly night but we were cosy in our double thermals, hats and sleeping bags in our wee tent, warmer than sleeping in the hut which required firewood but there was only one, small, sensibly walled-up yew tree in sight. We ate our Norwegian dehydrated camp food, beef and potatoes, which was delicious, followed by Pret dark chocolate almonds. You wouldn't expect to see a Pret out in the middle of nowhere, would you?! We were in our sleeping bags by 8pm, ready to spring forward. And wide awake by 4am! Thankfully managed to nod off again.

We reawoke at 7am to a beautiful dawn but soon a mist rolled in and after we’d scoffed porridge and broken camp we were making our ascent of Cross Fell in a fairly dense fog. The path disappeared and we made our way through boggy ground wearing all of our layers to keep warm. It was challenging to stay on the route, thank goodness for our sat nav and the reassurance of waypoint cairns appearing regularly through the haze which had lifted by the time we ascended Little Dun Fell (or Little Dumb Fuck as Robert preferred to call it 😂).

There was a golf ball listening station on the next peak, where we stopped to refuel on nuts, admiring the madness of a cyclist coming in the other direction. Then after a final peak it was mostly descent to our final destination. 

We had a time limit based on train times from Appleby to Carlisle which were only running every two hours, so we skipped lunch and kept going, meaning that we we only stopped to strip off our layers and rehydrate. Considering we both run regularly you would think that our last downhill would be relatively easy but the last 5k was tortuous. I was stupidly thinking it was only the equivalent of ‘twice round the Meadows’ in Edinburgh but in reality it was hours of stumbling downhill over rocks and tussocks and through gloopy mud with heavy packs and diminishing energy after 3 days of walking. Once we were 2k from our destination Robert had the foresight to call a cab to meet us at The Stag in Dufton and drive us to Appleby. After a brief drink in the pub we were hurtled through country lanes to the station and made the train to Carlisle to pick up the car and drive the final 2 hours home. Reentry is never really enjoyable. In spite of home comforts, hot meals, warm beds, the loss of birdsong and being in touch with your environment, the weather, the buds on the trees, the cloud formations, the direction of the wind, always feels like a loss. Till the next chapter.