Pen-y-ghent (& Plover Hill) 05/10/13

Having my walking season finale on a high hill seems like a great idea when viewed at a distance, but becomes a much less appealing prospect once you have felt the Autumn bearing down on you bringing mist, rain, falling temperatures and high winds above the 400m contour. It's the wind that's the killer, and the last trip I made has me feeling like I don't want to know what the winds of November might be like when the ones of late September were no fun, so the finale gets brought forward, spoiling the symmetry of the season, but that is less important then comfort, surely? Anyway, 3rd October marked my 20th anniversary since coming north to attend the University of Leeds, and what better way to celebrate that marker than to listen to every album that I bought in 1993? Or perhaps to also return to the scene of my first solo walk, some 11 years ago, and to partially retrace my original steps and to add Pen-y-ghent to the list of summits achieved in my official wandering career? Anyway, to the last excursion to the Dales for a while whilst the day still manages to promise a six hour window with minimal risk of precipitation!

Pen-y-ghent & Plover Hill  10.4 miles


Plover Hill & Pen-y-ghent from Horton

Horton in Ribblesdale is our start point at 10am, the only really viable point to commence an approach on Pen-y-ghent, and I do love the way that this big hill looms over the village, offering its dramatic profile to the oncoming walkers, despite actually being quite some distance away. When I came this way in 2002, I was the only midweek walker setting out to the mountain from Horton, but today offers at least three parties setting their courses from the railway station, and I had thought that the FOSCL group might be among them until I remember that they were having a super-early start for their odyssey to Kettlewell. Down Station Road to cross the Ribble across from the Crown Inn, and note that this rather prosaic stretch of road down to the Pen-y-ghent cafe is the actual stretch of the Pennine Way that I walked twice, and there'll be no need for a fortifying pint of tea today as I know what I'm getting myself into as I strike out onto the road to the hills, finding my way impeded by a truck making an oil delivery. Soon out onto the rough track, starting the ascent that offers a good view down the Ribble valley, whilst our target soon disappears in the folds of the landscape, and the other pair of the Three Peaks rise from behind the creases they were hiding behind, and it's funny that despite retracing 11 year old steps and having pictures to prove it, I have little memory of this track and it feels like a new experience, the grey skies are about the same though, and this 'sunny' day looks like being anything but. Rise on as the enclosed fields get rougher and the dramatis personae of Ribblesdale elevate around you, pausing to do the good deed of holding the gates for the passing cyclists, and the first 100m of ascent are done in no time as you walk parallel to your target as the dry valley of Horton Beck deepens to your right. There's some pretty impressive scarring going on as the chasm deepens, spotting a tiny cascade pouring over the rocks that makes much more noise than its scale suggests it should, and it's only a bit of dynamism short of being a feature in itself as dry river valleys from post-glacial run-off are always interesting, at least to the geologically inclined.

Plover Hill from Horton Moor

The path twist eastwards above the top of the ancient waterfall at Tarn Bar, and the direct route is to be avoided as I depart from my previous route, letting the Three Peaks walkers cross my path as I hit the bridleway into the former riverbed that is now home to spongy moorland grass and a pleasing feeling of isolation. I have to hit a bit of cross country when I realise that I am on the track to Hull Pot instead of Horton Moor, but looking back I realise that I had gotten a lot closer to the pot than I had thought and it probably would have been wise to take a look into the big hole that consumes the streams running down this valley. Rise to the eastern side of the valley across a field that is incredibly wet after the first dousings of the autumn, offering only the vaguest of paths and clearly too wet for a more consolidated surface, whilst the accompanying stream disappears into its own sink, indicating that the ground below our feet must be a mess of caves and underground culverts. The path improves once the old Three Peaks route is met, gaining a surface that doesn't sink beneath your weight, and the last straight path to Pen-y-ghent is passed as I make for the path that will lead up to the slightly lower companion lump on the northern end of the massif that is Plover Hill, and it may lack an exciting profile but it still has plenty of height. The other side of the valley has undistinguished heights too, dramatically coloured but lacking in any obvious names according to OL2 and I wonder what this stretch of hills between Littondale and Langstrothdale did to be so neglected. Rising to the 450m contour we do have a nicely bleak stretch of High Moor to enjoy, and also a sharp autumnal wind starts to cut in, requiring the donning of my waterproof as a windcheater, and the combination of coolness and underfoot dampness has me really glad that I'm out here in early October rather than November. After a long stretch to myself, I encounter another trio of walkers, pausing for emergency plaster application, and it's good to know that they are taking the same route as me as this is probably not a good spot to do yourself mischief, and they will be keeping me close company as we move on to Swarth Gill gate, and that's the English watershed folks, and an arrival in a remote corner of Greater Wharfedale.


The ascent to Plover Hill

It's another half mile onto Foxup Moor to meet the turn to hit the ascent onto Plover Hill, and I pause at the fingerpost for some fortification, allowing my companion walkers to start up ahead of me, before hitting the wet and marshy going on the first stretch of the 200m straight up towards the edge of the plateau. It's some hard going, no mistake, an unpleasant angle to ascend, especially with slippery going, but I hit it at a good speed despite the crosswind and pretty rapidly catch up with the other walkers. Hit the awkwardly pitched stone steps and the pair of ladies allow me to overtake them, and once through the enclosure wall at the 600m contour, the man sends me ahead as the trailblazer as the path rises steeply for 50m, rising sideways through the high escarpment and this would not be a good spot to lose your nerve as the track gets narrow and vertiginous, and it's four points of contact walking all the way to the plateau edge. This being the Yorkshire Dales means that no section of ascent goes of for longer than can be tolerated, and hitting the high edge offers an amazing panorama all the way from Ingleborough round to Great Whernside, and I can take in all the high terrain of these parts that I have explored in this last year, and once again my thought is reinforced that the best viewpoints are offered by the more modest hills. It's another 30m of elevation to the summit of Plover Hill, more soft going and the views recede, as do my travelling companions, left to their own devices as I make for the wall crossing that marks the practical highpoint around 680m as there is no evidence of a cairn or trig point, and the view south offers the angle on Pen-y-ghent that is never seen from any other angle as the summit cap rises 70m from the top of the massif, around a mile distant from here, with the long curved flank facing into Littondale giving a real sense of elevation to the lowest of the Three Peaks. The wall crossing also marks the end of solitude as walking parties are soon met coming the other way across the top of the upland, one of which is immediately recognised as having started out from Horton at the same time as me.

Plover Hill from Pen-y-ghent

Pen-y-ghent from Plover Hill

It's a steady 60m declivity to the lea between the two hills, the path theoretically tracing the wall, but its far too wet to keep that close to it and the trod veers well away from it, seeking the grassiest and firmest sections, but it frequently wanders into thick, dark mud that is no fun at all to traverse but thankfully never turns to bog, and you often wonder if you are on the wrong track completely.Things improve once the wall angles to send you directly south, and  I enjoy having views into Littondale and Ribblesdale on either side, along with a decnt profile on Fountains Fell at long last, and crossing the wall that divides the plateau offers me even more favourable going of dry and firm turf, but as I start the ascent onto Pen-y-ghent's cap, my camera starts to have another of its fritzy moments as it decides the IKEA rechargeable batteries that have served me for the last three years are only going to work for a couple of exposures at a time before temporarily dying. This causes huge frustration as I have to abbreviate my regular 'photograph everything' routine as I wonder if I'm going to have enough charge to even get me to the summit, so I find myself stomping irritably as I go, observing the other ascending walkers on the direct path from Ribblesdale. Just to add to the fun, the cloud starts to come in low, furthering me belief that cloud lives around the 700m contour, and hopes of getting a good panorama are lost as dense grey mist covers the top as I rise to meet it, but finding my way s only interrupted by one nasty puddle and chances of getting lost are minimal with the wall as your guide and the sounds of other walkers in the air. Soon spot the fingerpost indicating the Pennine Way crossing, and cross my second stile of the day to meet the sheltered side of the summit cap and with it the 694m trig point, and I'm ecstatic that my camera can capture me as I reach the third summit of the Yorkshire Three Peaks.


The Descent from Pen-y-ghent

Pen-y-ghent Summit

Just over three hours to the top, and I'll recline in the shelter of the wall to take lunch as the cloud runs just above my head and the student walkers talk cake, there's no point looking into Ribblesdale as it has disappeared completely so attention is focused on the wrinkles of West Yorkshire and many of the highland are distinctive enough to make me think that you probably can get a sight line to Pen-y-ghent from many of them but Fountains Fell obscures its distinctive profile. It's frustrating that may camera doesn't have the focal power to get a good panorama or the charge to last more than a couple of shots at a time, but battery rotation does give it more life than I had hoped to expect. Descend to the southern edge on the broad rocky track that is well used, still busy even at this season, to meet the rough path that leads through the escarpment that surround the summit cap, and I am chosen by a random group of ladies to be their leader because I have route knowledge that is 11 years distant, and my advice is mostly keep away from the edge and maintain three points of contact wherever possible. I think I do alright, leading them to only one bad step before having to pause for a large party to pass us ascending, and the lower escarpment is much easier going for us, but there is one woman stopped midway up it in the grip of a panic attack with her friends unable to move her either up or down, and I do not envy any of them in that situation. After nearly 200m of descent, I leave my second group of travelling companions at the shoulder of Pen-y-ghent as they head straight down to Brackenbottom, but I won't be taking the direct route to Ribblesdale, preferring to loiter on the Littondale side for a bit longer as I wander down the Pennine Way route to Churn Milk Hole. I'm regularly looking back to see Pen-y-ghent's best angle loom up out of the landscape and wondering if I'm going to have time to repeat my circuit from my prior trip down Overdale to Helwith Bridge, and as getting to the top of Long Lane takes a lot longer than I had expected, the answer to that thought is 'No'.

Pen-y-ghent from Churn Milk

100m further down and a guy in a digger is doing some path consolidation at Churn Milk, and I have to carefully pick my way past him before I rise to the top of Long Lane to start the descent into Ribblsedale again, and thankfully the day has cleared up again and the long vistas down to the limestone country above Settle and the distant anvil of Pendle Hill show up clearly. Crossing the watershed again and starting down Long Lane brings on another of those walks that takes much longer than I thought it would and I do momentarily panic that my six hour window might not be large enough, but meeting the corner of the bridleway down to Dub Cote puts my mind at ease as Horton-in-Ribblesdale is now presented directly in front of me. Pass below the 400m contour and the moorland cover ends, passing down into the rough pasture that spreads along the enclosed periphery and after all the activity on the hilltop, I'm back to having all the paths to myself again, winding my way down to the 300m contour and watching the summit cap disappearing behind the nearby scars. Dub Cote bunkhouse still looks pretty abandoned, which surely can't be right, and instead of following the roads previously traced, in the direction of Brackenbottom, I'll bid for a field walk down towards Dry Beck Farm, a much more challenging stretch than you would anticipate at this stage as the path hides well among the undulations and provides those types of step stiles that are virtually invisible, clearly this is one of those rights of way that no one ever uses. Roll on past the farm, with rough grass and soft going being the order of the day, as Autumnal weather cause the field surface to break up at the slightest provocation, and cross the last stile of the day to meet the track down to the bottom of the valley at 240m and the B6479, and it should be a straight forward run into Horton from here but the walkable verge peters out quickly and as this is the only road of note in this area, the traffic is prone to treating it like a race track and an alternative needs to be sought.


St Oswalds & Pen-y-ghent

So hit the perpendicular track towards Crooks Barn and notice that across the river is Garth House, providing us with an unintentional tribute to BBC Sport's blandest pundit, which amuses me far more than it should as I take the turn north towards the village, crossing a stream that has possibly the awkwardest stepping stones that I have encountered so far. Then it's into the bottom end of Horton and I again lament the tendency to stucco and pebbledash council houses as it's not a good look for limestone country, and a better view is provided by looking to St Oswald's church with Pen-y-ghent looming behind is, and they're hosting a tea and cake event for Harvest festival, and that would hit a good spot right now, but my atheistic tendencies move me on. I should test out the Golden Lion too, but that pub is just a bit too far from the railway station for a post-pint hurry up, so continue on past the campsite where three running ladies are changing out of their lycras by the roadside, blithely disinterested in the passers-by that might be observing them. Close the day's circle, and pass the Pen-y-ghent cafe too, and then don't even bother with attending The Crown either as my timekeeping hasn't left me with enough time for a satisfy beverage anywhere, and move on across the Ribble and up to the railway station for a 3.20pm finish, slightly disappointed that the day never really burned off the cloud, but that's Autumn, I guess. Settle down to finish my lunch and await the 3.56pm train, and have my legs feeling sort of soreness that only comes from proper hill walking, which get me thinking about just how difficult it would be to attempt to do the Three Peaks challenge, as 10 miles has taken me over 5 hours and left me achey today, and attempting 23+ miles in 12 hours would surely finish me. I've enjoyed every one of my trips to these three summits and I'll happily find new ways to approach them (and their companions) in the future, but all of them in one day? Mark my words here, It is never going to happen.

Next on the Slate: Colne to Calder again, plus a big hill and many reservoirs!


1,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 890.7 miles
(2013 total: 425.4 miles)