Day Four: 3rd June 2009.
Weather: A mixed day of weather, mainly sunny but colder than the last few days.
Ribblehead Station Hotel to Sedbergh: 17.5 miles on SatMap Active 10 GPS
Over breakfast – a bit hit and miss, and watch out for the toaster – we discussed the options for the day for Mrs RP. I thought that the long day would detract from her enjoyment of this walk and we tried to figure out ways to cut the mileage for her. We looked at catching the train to Dent and waiting for me to catch up – until we realised that the actual station is a good 6 miles from Dent anyway. There wasn’t a bus timetable available, so we decided (that’s the royal we by the way) that the best option was a taxi from Dent to Sedbergh, which left the last 6 miles for me to walk. So after settling up the bill we walked out into the day, a little cooler than yesterday and a bit overcast – almost perfect for walking actually and after 4 days in the sun my legs look like a pint of Guiness in reverse. There is a weather forecasting stone outside the Station Hotel, a very amusing start to the day. The walk down the road to get back to the Dales Way was easier than last night, but it was a boring bit of roadwork but not without some interest on the route. The tea van was in the lay-by but he was out walking his dog, leaving any customer to fend for themselves – an interesting concept but not very profitable. As we turned off the road we watched in horror as a Shepherd moved his flock along the road, uphill to a corner – but thankfully the first car around the bend managed to come to a halt just in time. The receding views behind us were of Ingleborough, the viaduct, Whernside, the Pennine Way snaking away, and to our right a distant Pen-y-Ghent.
Ingleborough receding into the distance
Pen-Y-Ghent looking a long way away
We had good views of all three peaks, and with the high cloud we were in and out of the sun for most of the day. We quickly gained height up over Blea Moor where 6000 navvies were stationed to build the stations and viaduct of Ribblehead, Bleamoor tunnel and Dent Head viaduct. I believe they just moved along as they progressed. The first couple of miles after leaving the road were up over the moors, dropping down into little gullies and up again. Typical Pennine scenery, but it was dry and we were thankful for that, with a well defined path and no bogs to speak of. It was colder today but good conditions for walking, the skylarks were singing and the buzzards were soaring – but the jets overhead were making a hell of a din, manoeuvering in tight circles.
Up over the moors
The view down over the Dale Head viaduct to Dentdale
The old packhorse bridge below the viaduct
Once we were over Blea Moor it was back on the road for another few miles, and the views over Dent Dale opened up. The first thing we saw was the Dent Head – a light spot amongst the moorland. As we passed by under the Dale Head viaduct there is a beautiful old packhorse bridge spanning a small stream, and it looks so incongruous sat there under the massive stone arches above. It is in a very verdant setting and would be a good spot for lunch if your schedule allowed it. From the end of the moorland it is about 3 or so miles of quiet country lane to walk down – not my ideal type of walking but it adds to the different aspects of any LDP. We continued along by the river dropping down into Dentdale by the River Dee and I knew there was a pub coming up at Cow Dub. The river flowed shallow this week and it disappears now and again beneath its limestone bedrock, reappearing someway downstream. High above us to the right were many stakes driven into the ground – an old fence line that was built to prevent snow sliding down on to the railway line – they look like a bunch of Red Indians watching out for cowboys passing along the valley below – that would be me then. Further down the road we passed by Artengill viaduct high up to our right side, towering above the valley sides and meadows.
The snow fence high up the valley side
Eventually after passing by several neat dwellings along the road we arrived at Cow Dub where there is a Pub – that would have been a good name for a pub – The Cow Dub Pub. But they called it The Sportsman instead – why? But regardless of its age we made straight for the front door, wondering if it would be open or not. We were the only customers, but the Dentdale bitter was delicious, and it washed down the sandwiches in good style. I was tempted for several more but I thought better of it as I still had a good way to go yet. As Mrs RP was struggling today – a bit of back pain, we asked if there was a bus and were told oh yes – but you’ve missed it. Then we asked when the next one was and she said Saturday (today was Wednesday)! Then I got to thinking while the ladies were gassing – what would happen if you’d waited for the bus and it came along and whistled past because it was full? Or that you’d bent down to tie your shoe laces just before the bus came and didn’t stick your arm out – bugger. I had already decided to put Mrs RP in a taxi at Dent (11 miles along the route) so she could have a longer rest in Sedbergh and she didn’t protest too loudly. After lunch we gently started walking, and a mile further up the road the path leaves the road and starts up a farm lane before once more crossing the meadows. It was about 5 miles to Dent from Cow Dub, but most of it is down in Dentdale proper, and the meadows began to dominate again and it was beautiful in the dappled sunlight – I kept thinking Julie Andrews would be along singing away any minute now.
Looking back up the valley
And the view back down the valley
Beautiful scenery – shame about the jets overhead
Getting closer to Dent
Looking back up the valley from Dent
The memorial to Adam Sedgewick in Dent village
The path meanders up and down the fields and then comes back to the River Dee again before entering Dent. The river disappears often beneath limestone slabs, and the valley was completely dry in places, but it was nice down by the river with lots of birdlife again. I very nearly had a fabulous shot of a Heron, but as I was getting ready to shoot it flew off in a great flap of grey wings – doh. As the afternoon arrived the clouds began to part and the sun came out to play, absolutely perfect for walking now – still chill enough to keep cool, but bright enough to warm the bones. The far distant fells of the Lake District come into view eventually – a faint grey but unmistakable. The approach to Dent is delightful following the river Dee as it meanders across the floodplain, passing by freshly cut fields of hay that gave off that lovely scent of summer. Arriving at the Church Bridge at about 3pm it was a short walk up the cobbled lanes to find a tea room - more refreshment and a taxi for my better half. It was a welcome break and the taxi from Sedbergh arrived on time, so off we both went on our separate ways. The pleasure of the day continued for me as the sun was now shining through and it was probably warmer at 5pm than it was at midday. A brass cast of a fossil set into one of the footbridges served to remind me that Dent was the birthplace of Adam Sedgewick, a pioneer geologist who searched the local area for fossils – he has one or two named after himself. There is a faultline that runs through Dent that separates the Silurian shales and slates to the west from the Carboniferous gritstones and limestones – hence the change of scenery on both sides of the valley.
Next stop is at Sedbergh
The Silurian crags to the south of Dentdale
And a little further on…
And a little further on and on..
Over this hill and then down to Sedbergh
The Howgills appear beyond Sedbergh
The remaining miles to Sedburgh were a delight in the late afternoon sun, initially following the south side of Dentdale – more Shepherd’s, and a steep valley side covered in Bluebells at Rottenbutts Woods. Then it was across the valley at Brackensgill and up and over the last two miles of Long Rigg where the hills ahead beckoned and Sedburgh sat neatly at the base of the horrible Howgills – Mrs RP’s name not mine. There were delightful views back up Dentdale and I took it easy over the last mile, wandering slowly down the hill, savouring the remnants of another wonderfully peaceful day. The approach to Sedbergh was over the River Rawthey and uphill past the Sedbergh School fields – a place with an air of achievement and no doubt a car park full of 4x4’s at the end of term. No rain again and I had a fair old thirst so I was forced into several pints of Black Sheep later on.
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