Pennine Way (North to South) 2024 – Day 10

17th August 2024: A66 Layby to Keld – 11 miles

I was awake long before the alarm went off this morning and it’s the time of year when I’m surprised it’s still dark outside. There were definitely some pre-walk nerves involved in what had been a restless night and my stomach felt a little queasy. I decided breakfast would probably sort the latter out, and the cold light of dawn would sort out the former.

My brother was due to pick me up at 7am, so I had plenty of time for a leisurely morning repast, pack everything into my bag, kiss my wife farewell and still be ready by 6.40 (because experience has taught me, Roger would rather be 20 minutes early than 1 minute late).

My kit was still strewn across a desk in my office, as I’d put my lunch items and my bladder in the fridge overnight, in expectation of a warm day, I hadn’t been able to pack it all up last night. It was only a matter of minutes to pack it all away though – just one of the many benefits of carrying all your own gear.

We were away by 6.40, as expected, and on the motorway north 10 minutes later. Traffic was light and we made good progress. My bladder forced a stop at Lancaster services and we decided to pick up a second breakfast as there’s a Greggs here. We got back in the car loaded down with bacon butties and hot drinks and were both furious to find the dozy woman had added tomato ketchup to both of our rolls, despite asking Roger whether he wanted sauce and getting a resounding ‘no’ in response. He was all for going back and complaining, but I couldn’t be arsed and my head clock was ticking. We wiped off the sauce as best we could and wolfed them down.

Conversation on the way up was muted and not particularly happy, as our Mum isn’t well at the moment. She has a consultation on Tuesday in Manchester which will determine a course of treatment over the coming months and as much as I wanted to be there, she had insisted I not cancel my walk. I’ll try and dial in, mobile signal permitting on Fountains Fell.

We arrived at the layby on the A66, where I’d been collected almost exactly 3 months earlier, at around 9.15 and I booted up as the lorries thundered past buffeting us with their slipstreams. We said our goodbyes and I waved him off then cut down the embankment and rejoined the Pennine Way.

Any nerves I’d had this morning were soon dispelled as I looked across the little valley formed by the River Greta and up onto the grassy fell beyond. I was back on the path, one of the best paths in the world, and it lay ahead of me, calling seductively.

It wasn’t especially warm this morning though, and a stiff breeze reduced the temperature, even further. I thought about adding a layer to the merino baselayer and the Montane Dart shirt, but I figured I’d warm up as I climbed. Firstly though I had to drop down to God’s Bridge, where I found the river to be almost completely dry, just some large pools beneath the stone bridge. This boded well, I thought, for the crossing of Sleightholme Moor which could be a bit boggy after rain.

I climbed away from the river, the first hill I’ve walked up in almost a month! I met the gate at the top and was pleased to feel no ill effects of my last few weeks of poor preparation. I’ve struggled with a knee injury for the past three weeks, if I walk too hard it gets very sore. I decided that it was probably better to try and rest it before the walk, rather than continue to train on it and potentially exacerbated the situation. I guess some of pre-walk nerves have been down to that lack of training and how it might impact me over the coming days. However, all I can do is try it and see how I get on. I’m determined to finish this walk and although that resolve may crumble if the pain ramps up, I’ll do my best to continue through it.

My first flowering heather of the season was found on Wytham Moor and although the colours were quite muted, it was good to be walking through the purple flowering heather again. The wind was stronger up here and the sea of purple was waving and rippling ahead of me, a wonderful sight. I soon dropped down to meet Sleightholme Beck, which got me out of the wind and the lovely little beck made a great companion as I walked through the deep little valley, across the bridge and then up through the fields toward the farm.

As I was leaving the farm I met my first walker of the morning, a Pennine Wayer without doubt, although we only exchanged nods and a hello. He sported a great beard and a big pack and looked focused on the path. I guessed he’d camped at Tan Hill last night and was probably Middleton bound.

A few hundred yards later I found a handy grassy tussock beside the farm track and decided on a Jelly Baby break. I spotted a couple of guys coming towards me and as they approached I said hello. We chatted for a couple of minutes and they said they were doing the Pennine Way in stages, heading for Dufton. They reported a mostly dry moorland path to come for me, and I reported the same for them.

Jelly babies devoured, I pushed on. I crossed another bridge and turned left onto the peaty path beside Frumming Beck. I could just about make out the roof of Tan Hill Inn, about 3 miles away and I hoped it was open and serving by the time I arrived there. It’s rare to get a pub half way along a Pennine Way day, and I wanted to take full advantage if I could.

I passed a couple more solo walkers, both almost certainly doing the Way, but we only exchanged greetings and nothing more. The path is very slightly uphill but it’s easy to follow and I really enjoyed it. Tan Hill remained as far away as it first had been when I’d first seen it, but after an hour or so I was there. It was absolutely packed. Loads of tents were pitched outside and dozens of vehicles were parked around it, not a few of which were campervans and motor homes.

The Tan Hill Inn Experience

The pub was open and I ducked under the lintel and into the bar. It was almost as busy in here as outside. Most of the tables were filled, but the bar was open and I was told I could sit anywhere. I was delighted to find Old Peculier on draught. I ordered a pint and another of Diet Coke to chase it. I found an empty table in the room on the right, and sat down. Most of these tables were occupied too, with just a couple of spares. It was 11.50 and I was famished. However, they didn’t serve food until 12.30 so I surreptitiously ate my lunch from under the table while I listened to the talk from the tables around me. There was a faint smell of cooked fish in the air, so I guess that was on the menu for later. The OP was warm, which was a surprise, and a disappointment – however there was more of that to come.

An old guy came in and sat on the table across from me, he was joined by a younger lady, probably his daughter, and then another lady, another daughter I guessed. They were going to eat here and were looking at the menu when one of the waitresses came and put a ‘table reserved’ sign on their table. She also put one on all of the other 8 tables in the room, apart from my little two seater. The first daughter spoke to the waitress, she asked why they’d been told they could sit here if the table was reserved. She was told they’d only just got round to writing out the reservation notices, but she was welcome to use the table until 1pm, when it would be needed. The lady was a bit put out, and quite rightly so in my opinion. She then asked if they had another table they could use, and the waitress said they could use any table without a reservation on it.

There was a bit of a conflab between the old guy and the ladies and they obviously didn’t want to be rushed eating lunch in time to leave the table at 1pm and most of the other tables big enough for a party of three were also booked. I offered them my table, I wasn’t going to be there much longer, but she kindly refused the offer and proceeded to search her phone for alternatives. I suggested Keld Lodge (but when she rang, it didn’t do lunch) and they eventually decided to head down to Hawes and find somewhere there. I chatted with the old guy while the ladies were getting ready to leave and he was one of those guys you could probably chat to all day. He was 84 and from Tyneside and even in the couple of minutes we chatted I learned he’d run messages as a boy to earn pennies and this had led to many years of fell running before he’d had to give it up. I was sorry to say goodbye when they all left.

A short time later, the waitress came in and removed all the reserved notices and explained, rather embarrassed, that they were for tomorrow’s bookings. I could still see the old boy getting into his car outside, but I doubted they would want to come back, even if I told them. In the end I’m glad I didn’t, because a moment later, new reservations were placed on the tables, including mine. Apparently, I had 10 minutes to move on.

Tan Hill Inn has changed, and not for the better in my opinion. It’s been turned into a commercial ‘experience’ when it was already a special place. Unfortunately, I guess it was a special place that didn’t make much money. Now, every square inch of the wall has an advert for their wedding service, their cosy rooms, or their gift cards, so you can share the Tan Hill Inn experience with your loved ones. Hmm, not sure I’d want to.

The prioritisation of telephone bookings over people who are already sitting at tables seemed like a poor decision to me. I left with a bad taste in my mouth (and the lingering smell of fish in my nostrils).

I left just after 1pm, I was aiming to arrive in Keld around 3pm, so I had loads of time and it’s mostly downhill from here. It was much colder as I headed away from the pub, and I soon had to stop and add my fleece over the vest and shirt and I even added gloves for a while. I’d cut the fingers off some old gloves, they’d serve to keep my hands warm, but also to prevent the sunburn I’d suffered in May. They were definitely deployed for the first reason here though! I felt a few spots of rain and although it was overcast, it didn’t look like it would amount to much, so I didn’t deploy the coat.

I passed a couple of folk who’d obviously walked from the pub and were on their way back, and I was followed by a group of three who were probably doing the same, but they turned off before I headed down the steep bank of Stonesdale Moor. I passed my final north bound Wayer of the day here, he looked done in and was visibly struggling with the steep climb. He’d probably arrive too early to be staying at the pub, but he had a big pack so was probably backpacking and could stop whenever he wanted.

I stopped to finish my lunch on a handy rock beside a barn, in the shelter of a wall, and enjoyed the silence of the place. I’d really enjoyed the walking today and such a contrast of first days compared to the first leg.

Before long I was looking down onto the quiet hamlet of Keld, one of my most favourite places anywhere, not just in the Dales. A scattering of tents and caravans were visible in the field at the bottom of the settlement and in the smaller field beside Butt House, but it looked lovely. The final descent from the moor, down through East Stonesdale is quite steep and my knees complained all the way down the track, but I was soon down beside the waterfall and then over the Swale and up the even steeper path into the village. I headed straight for Keld Lodge. I received a warm welcome from Dave, who recognised my name from the Herriot Way and I took a pint of Black Sheep up to my room on the second floor. I have fond memories of this place from my first ever long distance walk, back in 2005, when my friend Rob has to carry my bag and his, up all the stairs to the same floor!

I had a shower, and as my room is quite small, and doesn’t have a chair, I decided to go down and sit in the bar to write up my journal. I got the last seat in the bar, (the guest lounge was completely full), and I put my headphones in to avoid listening to a little yappy dog who barked when anyone even moved. I was about to cut my losses and head back to my room, when its owners left. The room soon cleared and I was on my own. I finished my beer, and went back to the bar to get a Diet Coke to take up to my room, I chatted with Dave for a while about the Pennine Way, the Herriot Way, and some of the walks he’d done recently. I was surprised he’d managed to get time off during the walking season, but he said he’s close to retiring and he wanted to enjoy walking while he still can, and despite being full every week he has other folk he can rely on to run the place.

I was down again for tea at 5.30 and ended up chatting to a couple from Hull who were doing the Coast to Coast, for the third time. We exchanged walking stories and although they’d never done the Pennine Way, they didn’t seem particularly interested in doing it in the future either. I tried to sell it to them, but perhaps my idea of a great walk didn’t quite coincide with theirs. I had an excellent, albeit deconstructed, steak and ale pie and was back in my room for 7pm. I rang home, got into bed and watched a film on my tablet. I was asleep by 10 and nothing disturbed me all night!

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