16th May 2024: Hartleyburn to Garrigill – 15.5 miles
I’ve mentally broken today’s 15 mile walk into three sections. The first six miles are along the traditional Pennine Way as far as Slaggyford, the next five are along the South Tyne Trail (hereafter the STT) into Alston, and the final four miles are back on the Way, into Garrigill. I make no apology for ditching the meandering Way in favour of the more direct and inevitably flatter, old railway line now adopted by the STT. When I wrote the 4th edition update for the Trailblazer guide in 2014, I even recommended its use, which could be considered sacrilege by Pennine Way purists. However, I honestly believe that if the Pennine Way was being designed today, the route planners would be hard pressed to justify anything other than the STT route.
I’m still in my B&B of course, waiting for my 8am breakfast call. That’s the earliest call I could negotiate and it’s a little late for my liking, but we’ll just have to lump it I guess. While writing that last paragraph I heard someone pass my room and head downstairs, where we have some milk and tea making facilities. A moment later I heard a large crash and then a series of what I thought may have been moans and cries of pain. I wasn’t completely sure it came from downstairs though, my window is open slightly and the sheep in the neighbouring field have been making some very strange coughing and hacking sounds. I then heard a faint but obvious ‘help’, so I pulled on some pants and headed downstairs, to find an older lady in the process of pulling herself up off the floor, empty mug in her hand, and looking very shaky! She said she’d not seen the single step down into the dining room, and she’d gone sprawling across the floor, hurting both her knees and covering the floor, and herself, in tea. I tried to persuade her to sit down, but she insisted she wanted to clean up, so I found a towel and started mopping the floor, while she helped. She introduced herself as Angela ‘a stupid old woman who couldn’t even spot a step’. She looked very shaken and I guess must have been as embarrassed as she was hurt. It’s not easy to cry for help in a guest house full of strangers. I asked if she was walking, but she said no, other than some sightseeing along the Wall. Some consolation I guess, it would be devastating to have to abandon a walk thanks to falling victim to a well disguised step! We finished mopping up the tea from the wooden floor and I left her to make another, and headed back to my room.
The forecast for today is pretty good, no rain predicted and cloud cover until about 2pm. Very little wind again, so it should be an almost perfect walking day! Right, I need to get packed, so I can shoot from here as soon after breakfast as possible.
Breakfast was fine, just bacon and eggs again, with some ‘make it yourself’ toast, washed down with lashing of tea. Angela came down and thanked me again for coming to her assistance, although I didn’t actually do anything, so I waved it away and we chatted about her itinerary for the day.
I was all done and out the door by 8.30 as I’d hoped. I stepped out in nicely dried boots and fresh new socks, and it started raining. At first it was just a few drops, so I decided adding my coat on top of baselayer and shirt wasn’t necessary, and shouldered my pack. At which point, it came down a bit heavier. I shrugged the pack off, extracted my coat and put it on. As soon as I heaved my pack on the bloody rain stopped. It remained grey and miserable though, so I thought ‘sod it, I could be here all morning taking my bloody coat off and on’ and left it on and headed off down the lane back to the Pennine Way. A footpath heads south west away from Kellah, but after a quick chat with my landlady on the way out, she recommended I just head back along the road, the way I’d come in.
The first mile or so is through fairly anonymous fields and pastures, psst loads of lambs frolicking and gambling (little degenerates) and it wasn’t until I climbed up a steep bank to reach the crumbling remains of High House that I recognised anything. It started raining more heavily here and I was glad I’d left my coat on now. The underfoot conditions matched those above, and my lovely dry socks and boots, were all too soon, quite wet. The views ahead were moody, low cloud clinging to the low hills and sheets of rain in the distance on my right.
The rough pasture of Dodd’s Rigg and Holly Rigg is pretty close to moorland here, and it’s full of cotton grass, marsh grass and perfect habitat for ground nesting birds. I must have encroached too close to a plover’s nest because I was soon being circled and buzzed by the irate parent.
I crossed the road and began the long slog up beside the fence on Lambley Common. The going was very wet and consequently quite slow as I was still trying in vain to keep my feet from getting properly soaked. I met an older (quite a lot older) couple here, walking towards me, very slowly. I stopped and we chatted for a minute or two. The guy said they’d camped at Slaggyford and were heading for Greenhead, and as they stayed the previous night in Garrigill, I guessed they were on quite a slow schedule. The lady looked completely done in already, the ground was so soft I could almost see her being driven into the ground by the weight of her pack, like a waterproof-clad tent peg!
The ground dried out as I dropped down to Knarsdale and the skies began to clear. I risked taking my jacket off – I’d sweat so much inside it, I doubted being caught in another rain shower would make any difference to the state of my shirt.
At Burnstones, I cut back along the road a few dozen yards to check if I could get up the bank and onto the viaduct. I’d come down this in 2010, but it’s often easier to scramble down a bank than it is to get up one. It was fine however, it looks like it’s used quite a lot, and so I was onto the STT. This meant I joined that flatter trail about a mile and a half earlier than expected, so I hoped to be in Alston a little earlier too. I found a convenient stone slab almost as soon as I crossed the viaduct, and stopped for the first break of the day. An old guy walking his dog, and a cyclist both passed me while I sat eating my KitKat, but I reckoned I’d catch at least one of them before too long.
The STT is a hardcore path, suitable for walkers, cyclists and horse riders. One of those multi-use trails that I moan about quite a bit. However, this one has a grass strip down the middle and often has two grass verges, so you have the choice at least. It passes through some lovely birch woods too and has occasional views to the surrounding hills.
I got to Slaggyford about 11.20, which was a few minutes behind my estimate, but I wasn’t too worried and the schedule wasn’t important as such. I met another Pennine Way walker here, he looked like a trail runner, but with a bit more kit, so he may have been training for the summer Spine race – he didn’t stop, just slowed enough to say hello and thanks, for holding a gate open for him.
The train tracks have been extended since Iast walked the STT, they now terminate just beyond Slaggyford, and there’s a signal box and a renovated and converted railway carriage there now that looks like it could be a tea room maybe. As I was walking away from the station, I could see lights ahead of me on the track, and an old locomotive attached to it. The train, with a couple of carriages attached, trundled slowly past, and I swapped waves with the driver.
I passed the station at Lintley Halt, where there are benches on both sides of the track and a little later the station at Kirkhaugh. Here the views to the left opened up and I could look down onto the River South Tyne, which is a wonderfully rocky and energetic river, with lots of white water. I passed through a gaggle of old folk, two groups of walkers I guessed, they had all the kit on, and had stopped to have a natter. It was just after 12 I recall, because I offered them a communal ‘morning’ and some sharp eyed old dear told me ‘it’s afternoon now you know’.
I checked my watch, not to confirm her statement, but to see how far I’d come this morning. Yesterday, I’d manged 3.5 miles by noon and today I’d covered 9.3 miles. I also felt better at this point today, than I had at the same time yesterday, despite having done a lot more mileage. Strange how your body works isn’t it?
I stopped for a longer break on a rather uncomfortable bridge parapet. I needed to take my boots and socks off. My feet were wet and I wanted to air them out for a while. I’d been hoping for a bench, but gave up after a mile or so, and perched on the parapet instead. My feet enjoyed the air and the break and felt better when I put them back in the boots. The old loco passed by, heading back for Alston, as I sat there.
I was passing the engine sheds and some old rolling stock on the approach to Alston, probably only about 40 minutes later, when I heard a whistle toot and saw a plume of smoke (or steam maybe) from ahead. It was a small steam loco leaving the station at Alston. It was a little green engine, running backwards and pulling a couple of carriages. I was quite pleased with my saunter along the STT. I wouldn’t have seen either loco on the Pennine Way.
In Alston I made a bee-line for the Cumberland and ordered a pint of Diet Coke and a burger. The beer menu was disappointing, all IPAs and Blonde beers, so soft drinks it was. There’s no pub in Garrigill of course, and my B&B doesn’t offer an evening meal, so I needed to eat a big lunch and then I could rely on a snack in my room later.
I finished the burger and most of another Coke then headed for the Spar in the petrol station next door. I stocked up for tonight, and tomorrow and with a much heavier pack, set out to compete the final four mile section of the day.
The elevation profile for the day looks unusual. After the first few miles, it’s basically a long, gentle climb of 8 or 9 miles. I wasn’t expecting any hills then, so the heavy pack wasn’t going to be a massive burden. The Pennine Way crosses the road and a few steps bring you into some lovely shady woodland. The sun was out now and it was getting hot. The backs of my hands are quite badly burned, and I noticed they were both covered in tiny blisters. As much as I’ve tried to keep my sleeves rolled down when I’m walking into the sun, they don’t cover my hands, and they’ve suffered! I was glad of whatever shade I could walk in then.
I passed through the little gate that I remembered from my last walk. That time the beck that runs beside it had overflowed and the water was rushing through the gate with great force. The beck was just a pleasant gurgle today thankfully. The walking is through fields now, or beside them and it’s all very peaceful and bucolic. At Low Scilly Hall I spotted a temporary looking notice pinned to one of the Pennine Way marker posts. It said the path had been diverted due to a bridge closure further along the path. My map showed the Way using a footbridge to cross the river about half a mile ahead.
My first instinct was my usual response to a ‘path closed’ sign, especially on a long distance walk, and that was to ignore it and push on. That’s never caused a problem before when it’s applied to things like forestry operations, but this suggested the bridge was closed and if I couldn’t cross it, I’d have to come back to this point and use the higher path, to the north of the river, all the way into Garrigill. Not an easy decision then. Fortunately, there was a house beside the path, and I could see an old gent in the garden doing some weeding. Quite incidentally, but still quite bizarrely, he appeared to be wearing just his pyjamas and a dressing gown. I was concerned he might not have all his carriages on the tracks, so to speak, but nothing ventured and all that, I called across to him to ask if he knew the state of the bridge. In a wonderfully erudite tone that completely belied his appearance, he explained that the bridge was fine, and he’d seen loads of people using it, and in his opinion it was someone from the local council covering their arse in case someone injured themselves on it.
Sounds good enough for me I thought, and pushed on. As I approached the bridge I could see a large red ‘footpath closed’ sign pinned to the gate, at the top of a flight of steps down to the bridge. The handrail on one side of the steps which lead down to the bridge was rotten and loose, the one on the other side was fine. I couldn’t believe they’d shut the bridge for this! I dropped down to the bridge, which was absolutely fine, as was the gate and steps at the far side. They’d shut the gate and were forcing a diversion on people for almost no good reason. The footpath closure order was pinned to the gate on the far side. It had been raised in June 2023, and extended in December 2023, and was due to run until December 2024! No alternative route was offered for walkers who arrived at the gate, it was just closed. Unless you just ignored the sign of course. In which case, you’d have no recourse presumably, if you injured yourself while using it. Local Council arses covered, walkers massively inconvenienced!
The rest of the walk into the village is lovely, right beside the river and was completed in bright sunshine. There’s a small map pinned to the gate that takes the Pennine Way out of the village, warning of the bridge closure, offering an alternative at least.
I arrived at my B&B at 3.15pm and received the usual warm welcome from Lana. I have fond memories of my last two stays here, but I don’t think she remembers me, which isn’t unusual of course. I’m now showered and refreshed, I’ve had several cups of tea, a hot chocolate and some food and I’m ready for an early night. I’ve asked for a 7.30 breakfast, with a view to being out the door no later than 8.30. It’s about 15 miles over Cross Fell tomorrow, and although I can’t be in my B&B until 4pm, there’s a pub and a cafe in Dufton, at least one of which should be open, should I manage to arrive early!