June 24, Sedbergh to Kendal

 Having walked over 20 miles today, I am close to incoherent.  In fact, I was so farchadet and farmished that I did not get to Genius on the Spelling Bee.  The stage from Sedbergh to Burnside, is plenty far, as in over 16 miles, but since there is nowhere to stay in Burnside, the walker goes on  to Kendal, a few miles to the south.  Plan A was to walk to Burneside and take a train or a taxi to Kendal,  but then the app showed this lovely way—on paper— to get to Kendal that didn't seem much farther than the official route, so seeing as it was not oppressively hot (yet), I cancelled the taxi and put the pedal to the metal and headed off to where the path diverged.  Only wouldn't you know, there was no access to the promised route. It didn't make sense to backtrack so I followed the  Google Maps way down the A6.  This was not as bad as when Alex and Alex and I went to that nutsy iron museum, but you would never choose it.  After about a mile of suffering on the side of the highway (or was that an hour?) a sidewalk did appear, but I was so done in by then and it was almost 80 degrees, full sun, humid and no shade or breeze, AND the approach to Kendal forces the question, "What the hell am I doing in this ugly town?" 

And just to add to the frustration, when I started out, I missed the turn that took you along the river, and walked on the highway for 30 minutes until meeting up with the path proper.  At least at 5:00 a.m., hardly any vehicles are on the road. Finally, at 2:30, I arrived at the hotel, having stopped for about 3 minutes to sit on a bench and eat 1/2 a sandwich of bread, butter, and granola.  Great combination, BTW.

The Riverside Hotel, not a total dump, has a broken elevator, but promises that the engineer is on the way,  and every single door is a fire door, which means you need the strength of a super hero to open any of them.  There is a little fan in the room whose high setting is super low, but better than nothing.

Old fashioned but probably does the trick

Out of nowhere a lake:

The walking today was full of variety.  There were river paths that were, in turn,  pleasant, stony, muddy, covered with roots, some of everything!  

Fields, hills, you know what, I cannot even remember!  After a tedious stretch was this treat of a field:

:

Did I mention mud?  I think so:

Gates and stiles!  So many of each! Some gates are really hard to open, so this sign was most welcome:

Example of a wobbly stile needing attention, not to mention maybe a step?:

Aqueducts are a feature of this route, this stage in particular.  When you get up close, you realize how big they are:

They are really big!!

You have been warned:

Warned again:

Bovines:

And ovines: the little ones are having a snack:

Ovines, which, from a distance, looked like porcines (of the boar variety):

Several times it was difficult to figure out exactly where to go, to this painted sign was most welcome:

Today's walk can be summed up thusly:  Too Much of a Good Thing!  (Except for the last few miles which were not a good thing at all.)

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.  

 **