Having taken my annual trip up to Carlisle and my favourite second-hand bookshop on the preceding Thursday, I was able to have a reconnoitre with regards ground conditions in Ribbledale and was fully prepared for some snow and ice residue on the ground when it came to hitting the Dales at the weekend. I'd kept my weather eye set to Saturday, and whilst the projection had gotten progressively worse, it never gave indication of heavy precipitation or high winds, so going up the first of the Three Peaks was never in doubt. What I hadn't taken into account was what the weather might do in the intervening time, but surely the conditions couldn't change that drastically? Well, they had and what follows is a walk quite unlike anything I have experienced so far in my walking career.
Ingleborough: Ribblehead to Horton. 12.8 miles
The view from Ribblehead station normally offers a view of Ingleborough, standing tall and proud with its stepped profile obvious about three miles distant, but today all that can be seen is a wall of white cloud, and Thursday's ground cover had looked like scrubby grass with ice patches, today offered a healthy covering of snow. I had hoped for a cool and clear winter's day and instead I was about to wander full-bore into a winter wonderland, not at all what I had in my for my first major excursion of the year. Still, start out from the 10.06am train and the FOSCL group had 22 walkers out for the day, proving the hardened walker is a mildly nutty soul, and St and Su are new leaders to introduce myself to, and encouragement is immediately given to the anxious and inexperienced winter walker when told that we will not be aiming for the 3.56pm return as the conditions are likely to add an hour to our jaunt. So set off with purpose down by the Station Inn, and out on to Batty Moss to walk all the way alongside Ribblehead Viaduct, and it's massiveness is brought home by just how long it takes to walk its length, and then it's continue on by the railway, finding the footing conditions are not that bad as the snow does not conceal ice, and get as far as Blea Moor sidings and the start of the path that leads up Whernside and for a moment you do wonder 'Which mountain are we going up, again?'.
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| Ribblehead - Winter Wonderland |
Then the path goes under the railway and we meet the man with a very large dog that had had us thinking that the paw prints in the snow might have been caused by someone walking a bear, and we head on alongside Winterscales Beck until the bridleway that carries us beneath the scar that forms the lower edge of Whernside's uplands. We should be granted great views as we go but Whernside is barely discernible behind us and Ribblehead Viaduct is slowly receding into the mist too, and all of Ingleborugh's massif is hidden by white cloud with only faint lines of the scars high up its face visible, and you get to thinking that we might not actually get a view of the mountain that we are walking up. There's a bit of questionable going as we negotiate various farmyards and when tea break is taken at the foot of the path off Whernside, I get first use of my new flask and L demonstrates her quality in the group by providing cake for everyone, aren't bakers just the best sort of people? Thence push on to Eller Beck (and I really should have started noting places around this county which share names with somewhere else entirely) and the its onto a better kind of road as we set off south to the other side of the valley, chatting with Su and others about my exploits so far, until we meet the chapel of St Leonard at Chapel-le-Dale and cross the waterless beck (another green river!)and rise up to meet Low Sleights Road and to wonder why this valley doesn't seem to have a name.
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| Southerscales Scar |
Beyond the ascent to Ingleborough starts, and through the first pair of rising fields you start to feel like you are over-dressed as the body temperature rises and the sweat starts to pour out, despite an air temperature of only 2 degrees C. Rise past Souther Scales Farm, and this is the last sight of civilisation we shall be seeing for a long while, and the path twists its way around to get us onto Southerscales Scar, the rough edge of the apron of high land that surrounds the mountain. The going here isn't the nice fresh snow that we'd had in the valley, here it is dense and impacted and you can be pretty certain that it has been like this on the ground for more than a month. Ascend to where the path leaves the edge of the scar and it looks like the dense cloud is hanging in the valley as there seem to be no wind to speak of, and we turn south to rise above a large area of limestone pavement and to pass around the largest shake hole that I have yet encountered. The path levels off to cross what would probably be a moss on a clearer day, and beyond that the steady ascent starts, mostly up steps which don't offer the firmest of grips when covered in impacted snow, and I start to drop back as the going gets hard. Right at this point, I'm glad i got in stretch last weekend as this would have been a harsh reintroduction to the walking season, and I stop to water often until I decide it's easier to lose a layer of insulation and let the heat out. Even stranger is the feeling of taking a deep breath and the incoming air isn't cold, St tells me that this is an unusual effect, one rarely experienced in these parts as the air is never as inert as it is today. Plod on as the rise continues for half a mile, and I'm not sure if the coverage of white cloud providing a lack of a visible destination is spirit crushing or resolve strengthening when you cannot see the ascent to come.
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| The Ascent to the Summit Plateau |
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| The Ascent to the Shoulder |
At the 540m contour, about 300m from the start of the ascent, the cloud momentarily lifts and you get the image of a wall rising vertically in front of you and you realise that this path has suddenly got hardcore. The entire group has bunched up in this stretch on only 80m of ascent in a very short distance, and from here every step must be carefully chosen with boots dug in at the toes and your stick to act as a much needed extra point of contact. I'm really glad that the cloud lifted for this stretch of path, as it could have gotten tenuous in poor visibility, and you get an excellent view sideways along the high slopes of the hillside to make you feel like a proper adventurer. No time to linger, as there's a lunch break to be had at the top, so press on and I'm warned that it's not a good idea to attempt to hack ice from the path as we reach the stretch where the falling beck has coated the rocks an inch thick. Only one bad step to negotiate too and big gulps of relief are take as we hit the shoulder of Ingleborough, and tired legs are rested as lunch is taken, not that there are many good places to sit amongst the alpine conditions. Onward then, as the summit is still another 80m of ascent away, albeit somewhat gentler, with the snow sitting a good 4 inches deep if you stray too far from the trammelled path. Actually keeping to the path is a challenge in snow, and for a moment you do feel like you might wander over an edge into the void below, but this rough route among the rocks is actually the most secure path of them all, and I press on trying to get 'Touching the Void' out of my head.
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| Ingleborough from Little Ingleborough |
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| The Summit Cairn |
More relief is felt as the summit plateau is reached, and as we've plenty of time before our ride home so we can all wander across to meet the summit shelter, cairn and trig point, and in the moment of reaching the 724m marker, I can say 'Beaten you, you bitch!' erasing my failure to get up here in 2005 and marking my first summit of the year, and in conditions I'd never expected to have walked in. There are at least two other walking parties up here already, so the weather certainly doesn't deter the hardened walker, and there's not much by way of views to be seen so instead a discussion can be had on the history of surveying and the wonders of trigonometry. We set off to leave and it starts to snow again, just enough to be annoying, but the path that leads down towards Gaping Gill needs to be taken with care and steps need to be chosen carefully as the path hangs close to an edge and slippage is easy, and one group we pass seems to have had an accident of some sort and we hope mountain rescue will be able to aid them soonish. Head down from the summit cap, wandering among rocks and snow that is solid 8 inches deep on the windward side of the hills, and from the top of Little Ingleborough, the southern point of the high massif, you can momentarily look back to actually see the profile of the mountain, the only view of Ingleborough that we will be getting all day. Getting off the high land involves more carefully picked out steps for quite a way until the path becomes paved, but it's so icy that it's easier to walk off it. The weather lifts again as I start to ponder whereabouts we had previously bailed when ascending this route seven years ago, apparently the upper half of the path has been improved immensely since then, but the lower half is pretty grim going still, and getting down to our next rest point is a grim slog, even when descending.
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| Clapham Bottoms |
Pause at Gaping Gill, where Fell Beck drops 98m into a cavern comparable to the size of York Minster, and it's worthy of a closer look when all the approaches aren't crusted in ice, and from there we depart on the path towards Clapham as the going gets a bit more like the impacted ice and scrub that I had expected and the day starts to feel chilly and glum. Turn off the main path toward Trow Gill as we ascend along the higher path around Clapham Bottoms, offering views towards Thwaite Scars and the parts of Limestone country that I am yet to explore. This area feels very remote, but there's still a steady stream of walkers coming the other way as we start up the ascent that will lead us back to Hrorton in Ribblesdale. Having drifted to the back of the group, I start to get the feeling that I have no idea at all where I am, as I hadn't picked out the route of this section on my trusty OL2, and I really want a landmark to stand out and give me some sense of location. I allow my mind to wander after watching every step over the previous few miles, and it turns out to be prime time to take a spill on exposed ice and down I go, tweaking my knee and landing heavily on my elbow. Su helps me back up, but I've lost a stride of pace as the path reaches up above Crummack Dale and I feel my enthusiasm starting to wane, so I'm glad when I find that St has stayed back to offer a bit of guidance to this new territory and directs me the view at Thieves Moss, down to Crummack Dale and its extensive limestone pavement, another of the great hidden views of the Yorkshire Dales!
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| Crummack Dale |
Below the back edge of Simon Fell we return to a familiar path as we reach Sulber Nick and we follow the neat groove that leads all the way down to the edge of the Ingleborough massif on the Ribblesdale side. No sudden elation is felt here today though, and I feel like my brain is already in the pub as steps have to be carefully chosen again, and the backmarkers compare their keep fit and health schemes. Apparently, this area is a riot of wildflowers in spring, but i seem to get to see it when it is splendidly bleak, and once the edge is reached we wade into a mix of broken ice and mud that is no fun all. There's no view to be had towards Pen-y-ghent as we hit the last descent, as it's shrouded in dense cloud, and I start to hang back as I start to anticipate a steam railtour coming south on the S&C line, as the path offers an excellent vantage point on the line for quite a long time. St tells me to pick up the pace a bit, so I hurry on as the path returns to farm land and Beecroft Hall farm provides our first view of habitation in what seems like forever.
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| 60009 at Horton in Ribblesdale |
The muddiness is a slog and this path seems much, much longer and harder than it did back in July, but the descent to the railway station provides us with sudden excitement as a shout goes up of 'Train coming!' and within seconds of arrival on the platform, 60009 'Union of South Africa' roars southwards and there's still enough daylight to get a decent picture, and that puts a capper on the day as I can't recall having seen an A4 on the mainline before. It's noted by several that seeing that has made my day, and it has, but the whole day has been an experience quite unlike any I have had on my walking travels, and one I won't be planning to repeat in too much of a hurry. The time says 4.50pm, so that's time for a pint of Theakston's Best at the Crown Inn, as well as trying to put on my sociable face despite the fact that I am somewhat sore and my brain is fried, but I do like this group, they are good people and I look forward to my next excursion with them, but now I need to get my legs recovered and the next scheme will not feature anything as strenuous or extraordinary as today.
Next on the slate: The long Walk to Windermere commences!
1,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 488.4 miles
(2013 total: 23.1
miles)
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