June 23, Ribblehead to Sedbergh

 I just want to say that Apple has to beef up its metrics.  (I am not sure that is the right word for things on the watch that are measured such as steps, mileage, heart rate et., but it sounds good.)  According to Outdoor Active, which measures the route, I walked 15.5  miles today.  My watch read 14.8.  (But just so you know, That was OFFICIAL miles; add trips to the grocery store and all and you get another 3/4 of a mile.)

I was quite concerned about the first part of the route because yesterday I met these two women, one of whom was named Vashti, would you believe, who were walking the Dales Way in the other direction, and told me that the first hour or so was V E R Y boggy and was a huge hill and then down into a ravine and up again, and that a woman had fallen and was muddy all over, but maybe she didn't have poles.  In other words, I was warned.  It turns out it was not so bad and it was only 40 minutes of bog.  But a great part of today's walking was on asphalt.  I do not like asphalt.  

When you start a walk at 5:00 a.m, and you don't need long sleeves, you know you are in for a hot day.  The cloud cover did not stay:

Famous viaduct but since there are a few in these parts, not sure which one it is:

If there were a comma, it would make all the difference:

Cattle rustlers?

Because, when you think about it, what is there to steal?  And yet there does seem to be a large number of security companies in the area.

Most of the scenery was ho hum, but there were, "Oh yes, that is why I am here," segments:

They were getting the best bits!

Guess what Farmer Jones is doing here?  Making hay!  That is what he is doing!  So what does that mean? 

It means you do not wee in that field!

After walking about 4 1/2 hours, I came to a town that had a little cafe; it sold Magnums!  You know that an Original Magnum is the PERFECT hiking food.  The ice cream hit the spot and compensated for the breakfast the B&B owner had left for me.  Picture this:  terrible bread (who knew bread could be terrible) with that packaged, tasteless, sort of powdery, shredded  cheese, 1/4 of a cherry tomato,  and a wee bit of something green.  

This brings me to dinner last night.  There are only two rooms the the cottage where I am staying—a very nice little cottage— and the closest place you can get something to eat is 1 1/2 miles away, so you can choose to eat at the inn, for a fee of course.  The couple staying in the other room, Karen and Rich, they were, were the most dour, sour, dull dinner companions you could imagine.  The dinner itself was as tasteless as the Sunday Roast Special at the George the day before.  The lasagna was nicely presented, however.  Just as a point of comparison, today I bought a kebab from the pizza-kebab concern next door; it was delicious!  So you see I do not complain all the time!

The Brits do know how to do flowers!

I don't remember what the narrative for this photo was supposed to be, but this has to have been one of the prettiest moments of the day:

After walking miles and miles on asphalt, punctuated by stretches of stony track, it was a m'chaiah to walk through a field:

In fact, it was actually exciting!

The stones on top were wobbly making the traverse just a wee bit nerve wracking, more than just a wee bit, to tell the truth:

This was such a feel-good sign!  Not hot OR cold water, but hot AND cold water! And for free, yet!  What more could anyone want?

Thinking of the possibilities boggles the imagination!  Did Lenny really leap?  Was it a ballet move or something more sinister?  Who was Lenny?

Moss and flowers between two walls:

Water under the bridge:

In England there are many Black Bulls and many Red Lions. The Black Bull at which I am overnighting is quite nice...at least my room is.  I paid way too much for early check-in; it was worth every pence!  Even though the route was fairly flat today, it was demanding in other respects,  for example, length and the heat!  It was so nice to sit down and relax in a pleasant space.

June 22, Hubberholme to Ribblehead

I was not sad to leave The George Inn.  In addition to the terrible food, it reeked of cooking oil, and the wi-fi did not work in the room (which was musty) only they don't let you use computers in the bar, whih happens to be only place there is a decent signal.  Such are the issues of this day and age!

Villages around here have  marvelous names:

 Today, I caught Peter Cottontail before he ran away:

Part of the walk was along the river:

And get a load of this:

The sign reads:  Riparian Tree Planting Intercepting Water. Woah!

Phone booth with phone:

Whether the phone works or not, no idea.  Maybe they are waiting to swap it out for a defibrillator.

One has been warned:

Countryside becoming less exciting:

and boggy.

Let's call this—with its little platform on top,  Hangman's Stile:

Sheep taking the Dale's Way in the reverse direction:

Shepherd's Cottage, where I am staying, offers reading material such as this:

 

June 21, Grassington to Hubberholme

 Today's walk did not mimic the start of yesterday's after all.  It took a new route, which, interestingly was not as pretty, but nothing to scoff at, either!  In fact, this view is similar to one taken yesterday only this one has some sheep in it!

These beauties were not getting up at 5:30 a.m.

I was not sure I would make it through:

When someone wants their picture taken, sometimes you just can't say, "No!"

Now I have to tell you something!  Some of these gates are not so easy to open

as they have heavy springs:

and you have to keep the gate open as you make your way through.  Let's put it this way, I am glad that no one has seen me carefully make my way up and through and down!

You know you are not in NYC now!

I cannot leave those stone walls alone!  Ho do they do it on those hills?

See this bridge?  

Well, I was about to make my way over it, but luckily for me, a man with his dog, Happy,

 counseled me not to go that way, so I did not.  He was right, of course.  

This bridge you do cross!  One plank is adequate so long as there are aide rails!

Thistles:

It was a beautiful walk on a beautiful day.  Hubberholme, where I am pernoctating (when such a word exists, it has to be used at least once) has three buildings:  

an inn: 

 a church:

and a farm:

The church is famous in these parts because it was used in the filming of the wedding scene of All Creatures Great and Small:

Another thing the church is famous for is its mice:

When a synagogue has a mouse problem, the way you get rid of them is to buy a bunch of kippot, give the mice a bar-mitzvah and a kiddush, and you will never see them again.

Sunday roast is a staple of English life, and this being Sunday, such was offered at The George. The choice for a "main" was lamb or brisket.  I opted for the lamb.  It was served with a popover and some potatoes.  There was a side dish of cabbage and carrots.  The lamb, coated in gravy, was oy.  The popover was adorable but had no taste only maybe that is just the nature of popovers. The potatoes, I don't know what to say about the potatoes except they tasted like cotton.  The side dish of cabbage and carrots was colorful and nicely presented on a wooden board, but were thoroughly overcooked and totally unseasoned, in a word: flavorless, just as one might expect. The ginger beer, however, was 5*****  The backup supplies in my suitcase are made for stop-overs such as this.  

 **

June 20 Grassington circular

 Before launching into the doings of the day, I would like to "share" two observations:

One:  It is a fact that after 12 noon, your backpack gets heavier.  This happens even though you have drunk (what an unpleasant sounding past participle) water and eaten snacks.  There is a direct correlation, as well, between the heat of the day and the extra weight of the pack.  

Two:  People (not all, but some) in this part of the country  have jettisoned a number of consonants of the English alphabet and replaced them with glottal stops or just have not replaced them at all.

The first few miles of today's excursion followed tomorrow's start of the Dale's Way and then turned sharply to the left to territory not to be visited again.  

Heading out of town at about 6:00 a.m., I passed by this Polishing Shop; of course it was closed.  Later in the afternoon I simply had to return to ask what a polishing shop was!  They polish and repair furniture is what they do!  It smelled great!!

The scenery was gorgeous:

Mr Dignified:

These walls are a reminder of a VERY BAD thing I did today.  It was behind such a wall (see photo just below) that I decided to pee.  Wouldn't you know that a tractor went by while I was in the midst and even though I thought I was well hidden, the big, bright-pink-shirted lady driver knew what I was up to.  She soundly rebuked me because I had, unwittingly, to be sure, selected a spot that was reserved for making hay.  "Make your wee by the side of the road," she instructed.  I apologized and she roared off, no doubt looking for other offenders of the country code!

I have been thinking a lot about dry wall construction.  First, where do all the stones come from...the ones in the photo below were well embedded in the ground and it would have been a huge job to dig them out.  And these walls require SO MANY stones, and how do they get them to fit. Chatgpt suggests that these queries be referred to Dry Stone Walling Association, and Yorkshire Dry Stone Walling Guild for starters.  You can also search videos of Dry Stone Walls on YouTube if you really get into it!

By and by I came to the spot requiring the left turn. The marking on the app was pointing to a crevice that screeched, "suicide leap."  Turns out there was a track fairly parallel to the leap into nowhere, so I started down that way.  Then I thought, "Maybe I missed something," so I turned back to see if there was not a nice grassy way to go that I had missed.  There was not, so off on the stony track I went.

The views were still spectacular:

These guys did not run away:

Later on, when the app said "Take the road," I saw a sign that said "Foot Path," which seemed to be pointing in the right direction, so I took that instead and was richly rewarded by fields of buttercups:

Along the river, people were enjoying the perfectly beautiful day:

One perfectly perfect rose:

Back in town, I purchased a slice of fruitcake, two apples, a slab of Wensleydale cheese—Alex, this is so not the grocery store variety AT ALL!  It is way more smooth and delicious—a lemon, and some walnuts and one chocolate bar (not too big) and now I am so worried about the weight of my bag.  I started out with about 37-38 pounds (it is all that granola!  I really better stop saving it) and the limit is 44 lbs.  (20 kilos).  I think I can get away with the extras, but you know, those ounces add up!