The Dales Way #3: Buckden to Far Gearstones 04/05/13

Self, at Election Bridge
near Buckden

These long days which feature as much travelling/waiting around as they do actual walking are starting to frustrate me somewhat, as a good 5/6 hour walk should not be accompanied by a 5/6 hour journey. This is especially frustrating with the Dales Way as I had wanted to actually get the feeling of starting up in one place and then winding up in a far distant place three days on, but travelling to each start point by train and bus might absorb a lot of time, but it makes it feel that much closer together, and the feeling of  the many miles traversed and of escaping from the trappings of civilisation for a while is almost completely lost. Plus, today's outward journey was something of an ordeal, as the train up to Skipton is ridiculously busy with folks hitting the Dales for the Ride2Stride festival, and many, many kids are on board, filling half a carriage with baggage and loud voices, and it's then a 35 minute wait for the bus to Buckden, which bounces and dawdles its way up Wharfedale as I start to check my watch anxiously as I know I'll be going against the clock again on my remotest solo Dales walk so far, and I've forgotten to leave notice of my travels on my Facebook page...

Walking to Windermere: The Dales Way #3:
  Buckden to Far Gearstones (& Ribblehead).  14 miles.

St Michael & All Angels, Hubberholme

Off the bus at 11.10am, and my walking window for the day is going to be 6 and a half hours to do 14 miles, so the path is engaged rapidly and Buckden is soon departed as the sun pours through a break in the clouds, and I roll over the Wharfe at 'Election' Bridge and set off along the riverside path. I would enjoy the natural amphitheatre of the three high hill sides broken by the river valleys if if wasn't for the change in the weather taking a turn for the moist. The predictions had not indicated any real scope for rain, but it comes in a particularly fierce drizzle for the first mile, as I hope that this isn't going to set the tone for the day as the path leads out of the top of Wharfedale proper and west into Langstrothdale. Pace the road, and dodge the traffic, including the ASDA direct van venturing into the wilderness, and the rain passes before I get into Hubberholme, but I get the feeling that it's never really going to turn into a nice day as I'm walking into a consistently sharp westerly wind, and this will be the last village we'll be passing through today, though it would probably be a hamlet if it wasn't for the presence of a pub (The George, not open for an early beer) and a church (St Michael & All Angels, the same dedication as Linton, oddly). Cross the river, still the Wharfe, though no longer in Wharfedale (?) and pass around the church to meet a rather rough stretch which leads us high above the river before descending to pasture and we move on into Langstrothdale, which in medieval times was prime hunting country, and even now it has a wildness which was distinctly absent in Wharfedale.



Langstrothdale, above Yockenthwaite

Walking into the wind is no fun at all, and the heavy cloud keeps the day cool, but at least the path remains distinctive, and properly surfaced in places as the river is shadowed, with the road on the other side and featuring a lot more cars than I'd have expected. There's also a lot more foot traffic than I'd anticipate, plenty of people coming the other way, so they must have set out ridiculously early if they have come from Hawes or Ribblehead, and also overtake two groups, who must have been staying locally as I'm the only person off the bus coming this way. Anyway, the trees are still bare of leaves and the pasture seems to gradually narrow down as the moorland encroaches down the valley sides, and the river starts to get a bit busier as it cascades over the limestone riverbed. Pass through the hamlet of Yockenthwaite, which amounts to two farms and a bridge, and after observing the sheep that kneel down to graze on a slope, it's back into the fields as the cultivated land starts to feel very narrow indeed, as Yockenthwaite Moor and Horse Head Moor loom down over the valley and the river continues down over its many cascades, which would be ideal for anyone with a very small canoe. There's an antiquity along here too, in the form of the Giant's Graves stone circle, of probably bronze age origin but of completely uncertain usage, probably 'ritual function' as Francis Pryor always liked to fudge it on Time Team.

Beckermonds, & the rising Wharfe

Rise from the riverbank to pass through the hamlet of Deepdale, which is two farms and a bridge, crossing the river to the south side, and now the valley starts to feel very remote indeed, even with the access road to another pair of farms being tramped along the riverbank, as the cascades on the river get wilder and the moorland closes right up to the banks. The road is the only link to civilisation, so it's a surprise to see an old Bentley heading up the valley, taking one of those out into the wilds is normal behaviour, isn't it? As is choosing this spot for some camping, as a group of bikers sit outside their camper van, whilst an orange VW mark 1 is passed with all its windows covered. Whence they have receded from view, you could again convince yourself that you have passed far beyond civilisation, but walkers coming downstream illustrate that you are still far from the middle of nowhere, and despite the headwind and some rough going, I feel like I have been making excellent time as the edge of the plantation which covers much of Langstrothdale rears into view. Soon enough the hamlet of Beckermonds appears, three farms and two bridges, and marks the rising point of the River Wharfe, as the feeder becks of Green Field and Oughtershaw merge from the east and north respectively. Stop here for lunch, and a tinker with my camera as it's having one of its battery-hungry days, and check my timing so far, and I'm mildly astonished to find that it only just past 1pm, meaning that I have done over 5 miles in less than 2 hours, probably my fastest burst of walking so far, but I doubt that speed will be maintained in the second half of the day as the higher lands beckon.

Oughershaw Moss, above
Nethergill Farm

Over the becks and join the road to head north towards Oughtershaw, rising steeply above the river until its in a deep cleft below us, and seeing signs of new electricity cables being strung, which shows that there's still plenty of activity going on out here in the back of beyond. After seeing all that traffic in the early part of the day, the road has fallen completely silent as I start to descend again, with only two motorcyclists passing by, and I assume that the leaden skies must have discouraged casual drivers. There are more alien trees about these parts, and it's interesting that so many trees here have grown to maturity in this stretch near the edge of the moorland, but the name of this area does translate as 'Outer Wood' after all. For a while I do think Oughtershaw amounts to just its hall, a rather grand Victorian structure which must have been established as a hunting lodge, but further along the road I count nine dwellings for those who still work these hills as well as a chapel-cum-school which seems to also function as the county's most elaborate farm store. Depart the road by the faux-Celtic cross (dated 1887) and hit the farm track that leads to the moors of Oughtershaw Moss, and the rain comes again as the headwind cuts into me and the last walkers of the day travelling in the opposite direction pass me by. The rough grass and spindly trees of moorland now dominate the vista, and there must be some hardy folks around to still farm these hills, but I'm not sure what they are farming, as I can't even see any sheep. The road feels more and more remote as we go, and we've gone a mile before passing the austere Nethergill farm, which doubles as a convenient B&B for the long distance ambler, and a mile further on is the slightly more attractive Swarthghyll farm, which has touches of landscaping and daffodils by its approach road, and also seems to be hosting a birthday party today judging by the balloons tied to the gateposts, and some jelly and ice cream would be welcome right now!

Oughershaw Moss, above
Breadpiece Barn

The firm track ends here, and it's onto nearly a mile and a half of moorland walking beyond the sheep pen, but the track is still traceable as the going gets softer, all you have to do is stay to the north of the long stone wall and you shouldn't get lost. Indeed, Cam plantation has been visible for a while and you're aiming for the top right corner of that, whilst the massif of Ingleborough gradually looms above it as the valley is ascended. The going is mostly grass and mud, and not a lot of fun, regularly rising and descending to cross the many feeder streams, and encountering squeeze stiles so narrow that I'm glad I don't have my big pack on. I know that the English watershed is coming up along here, as Oughershaw Beck and Cam Beck flow away to the Wharfe and Ribble, illustrating that you don't need to have high hill to separate the flow of waters as it happens here in a natural depression, but I'm not sure where it actually is, and call it twice too early, before realising that the separation point is just beyond the end of the wall and from there the remainder of the Dales Way will be on the left side of this fair isle. Tramp on as the cloud finally starts to break up, and the sun starts to come through, aiming for the nearby Far End barn, and the path starts to rise up hill, somewhat counter-intuitively as the watershed has just been crossed, and then as the path meets the ruined Breadpiece barn, we move into what resembles fields again and the steep ascent to Cam Houses starts. It's pretty hard going after all that riverside pacing, and the sheep look at me quizzically as I go and aside from a moment where my destination is momentarily hidden in the landscape, it doesn't take very long to reach what must surely be the remotest farm in Yorkshire, at least two miles from the nearest road junction. It looks in good nick too, two of the three houses looking recently made-over and you could feel like you are in a cosy, self-contained community if you ignore the fact that you are in the middle of nowhere.



The Dales Way Summit,
on Cam High Road

Anyway, 3pm and my timing is going well, and beyond the farm, its onward to meet the edge of the plantation, which covers a much wetter field than I would have anticipated, and signage at the edge of the forest warns the walker to not venture into the trees and to stick to the perimeter. As it happens, much of the northern edge of the plantation has already been felled and the path was covered with loose branches, so I cleave close to the perimeter where the previously tree covered ground is very soft indeed, which has me sinking down to the top of both of my gaiters in one dangerous moment. Extract myself and reach the access road, and then start up the path towards Cam High road, where I can see a party heading downhill and wonder if it's the group that John was talking about last week. The climb is sharp, but steady and again a lot softer than I'd thought, and I do have to wonder why there are so many water butts up here at the edge of the forest, something to do with arboreal husbandry, I guess. Follow the fence over going that could easily get complicated in wet weather and then aim for the cairn and signpost up on the high road, and once again the landscape does that trick of hiding your destination, before I roll up on the high point of the Dales Way at 520 metres. Pause for the moment of triumph and a last look back into Langstrothdale, after taking 25 minutes to ascend from Cam Houses, before heading into the familiar surroundings of Ribblesdale, taking in all the views that I saw last week, but there are signs of more heavy machinery than there were back then and I'd venture that the road surface has been built up too. Dang, those suckers move quickly don't they? Trying to save Cam High Road from 'improvement' must surely be an impossibility now.

Gayle Beck crossing,
above Far Gearstones

Last time I walked this path in this direction I was going south, but today I am going north, in the same direction, surreally, and it's a long way to the path division at Cam End, and even further beyond to the crossing of Gayle beck, and it's tempting to slow the pace right down, but knowing that there is still some distance to go and that long straight lines on the OS maps rarely indicate short distances and quick going, and the long descent off Cam Fell feels like a path that would be absolutely beastly when ascended. I keep a look out for the party ahead of me to see if they crossed the stream and as I see them ascending to the road, I know that the bridge point on the infant Ribble is nowhere near as closed as the signs had warned it might be, and on arrival there is no obvious indication of any work taking place here at all, so cross the Gayle Beck footbridge with ease, and then follow the farm track up to the point that it joins the B6255 outside Far Gearstones Farm, to reach the end of the 12.6 miles of the Dales Way that will be tramped today, and also the mid-way point of the whole route, and only six weeks behind schedule! Unfortunately, it's still 1.4 miles down Blea Moor Road to Ribblehead station, and my way home, so the old Lancaster & Richmond road is paced, and I can do a timing over a measured mile between the old mileposts to see if i still have speed in my legs, and it takes 19 minutes, not bad going at all. Sadly, the Station Inn is at standing room only outdoors due to live music courtesy of the Ride2Stride festival, so a path is taken straight to the station itself to take shelter from the wind and to take a final time reading, 4.55pm and all those fears of this being a particularly harsh route and distance are proved to be completely wrong, but after 14 miles of walking into that headwind, I'll have earned my good night's sleep.

To Be Continued...

Next on the Slate: A rest, due to temporary ill health.


1,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 607.4 miles
(2013 total: 142.1 miles)