|
Wednesday 23rd May 2012 Hebden Bridge to Cowling What a day - absolutely knackered! Blisteringly hot and cloudless all day, well until evening, and no shade available on the moors. Early that morning - well about 8-ish, I suppose - I had broken my fast at the White Lion with poached eggs on awful white toast - they said there was no brown bread but some did subsequently appear in time for the jam. I was sitting next to a woman - mid 40s, short light-brown hair, glasses, slightly shiny complexion. She said she was in charge of a team running workshops for writers, ie two 'real' writers (ie published) would be bestowing their wisdom on a dozen aspiring scribes. After breakfast I went out and bought a couple of pens - I found out later that they wrote in gold ink - and a rather nice hummus, olive and tomato roll for later - nice brown bread for this, of course.
I left Hebden Bridge with no regret and slogged up the interminable lane leading uphill out of town to grid ref SD968281 where I was to meet Andrew at 10.30. I got there first albeit four minutes late but he rolled up ten minutes later with another Pennine Way walker called John. John was a paramedic and reckoned he was going to walk from Hebden Bridge to Malham today ie three days' worth of progress by my schedule. He was setting this rather brisk pace as he was hoping to finish his walk on 5th June and had already booked his train back home for that date, taking advantage of the pre-booked cheap rates. Anyway John strode ahead and after a few minutes Andrew and I creaked into motion and set off after him. Soon the heat began to take its toll. The main memories of the day are of moorland, rounded hills and plateaus and reservoirs.
After the pull out of Hebden Bridge the going was fairly level then came the reservoirs followed by the climb up Within Height. A bit past there on the descent we stopped off at Top Withins, a rather unremarkable derelict stone building on the moor, said to be the inspiration for Wuthering Heights - Haworth, home of the Brontes, was just three and a half miles away. A load of French schoolkids were looking round the ruins and soaking up some culture no doubt.
After that the steps got slower, the load heavier and it became a real ordeal as we strove to reach Cowling. It seemed to take forever getting across the Ponden Reservoir valley and clambering up Bare Hill. Then from there it took longer than forever. Mile after seeming mile of peat and heather, Heather and Pete, all the same on a great undulating plateau with paving stones threading their way through the emptiness. Time was pressing on - not sure exactly but well past 6.00 pm - so within about a mile and a half of Cowling I told Andrew he should forge ahead as he was much faster than me; that way we could save time getting showered and the like.
I plodded on like an automaton, putting one foot mindlessly in front of the other, and at last came to Cowling. Quite a spread-out village unfortunately so more plodding. To my surprise the first person I came upon was John, the paramedic, blithely walking along the street and guzzling from a can of coca-cola. According to the masterplan he should have been in Malham by now, about 20 miles further along, but instead he'd been seduced by the fleshpots of Cowling and taken a room here. His excuse was that it was a hot day. I thought he was going to have to up his game a tad to make it to that train on 5th June. I was eager to get on and find our own B&B though so I wished John all the best and carried on along the road. Not long afterwards I was overtaken by a gangly youth and on impulse asked him where the Post Office or Old Post Office was - as the B&B was supposed to be opposite it. He helpfully pointed out that I'd just gone past it so I was saved from a long, tiring misdirection. As I turned back towards the B&B I saw Andrew coming towards me. It turned out he'd gone completely the wrong way on the approach to town and done an extra half mile, ending up behind me. Of course my telling him the B&B was called the Windmill when it was really called the Woodland wouldn't have helped him much. Not to worry, the landlady gave us a nice cup of tea and some scones, telling us she'd done the Pennine Way herself some years earlier. After a shower and the ritual washing of underpants it was off to the local Indian restaurant, Zeera, for a fairly horrible meal which I couldn't get done, not entirely, then the Bay Horse for a couple of pints. A very demanding day. Distance: 17.6 miles Average speed: 0.8 mph - must be error Total ascent: 4202 feet Total Distance: 64.7 miles | ||||||
 | ||||||
