On the Great North Trail: Day 1 – The North Pennines

Perhaps if weather forecasts had long term reliability then I would manage some long term planning. Instead it was a case of: “Oh, a few days fine weather coming… Where shall I go… I could try the next bit of the Great North Trail… Have I got a GPX file for it?… I have now!… What shall I take? Better go to the shop for a couple of days food… Don’t forget to buy a train ticket… How much!! (that’s not a question, it’s an exclamation of disbelief)… Ok… First train tomorrow morning! I’d better pack now (although I should have gone to bed already)!

I caught my train at 06.15 and tried desperately to get some more sleep. LNER do old fashioned fruit cake slices to have with my coffee – they have just gone up in my estimation. I caught the train to Settle and Carlisle – my loaded bike filled the tiny cycle cupboard, then 3 more bikes arrived; we squeezed one in beside my bike and I had a nice chat with it’s owner who was riding Appleby to Borrow dale (the other 2 fitted into a luggage area in the next coach).

Around Gargrave I was alarmed to see the river valley quite extensively flooded – I knew I had to ride in the Eden Valley to start my route – I actually considered staying on the train to Appleby to miss that bit out, but I’m glad I didn’t.

In fact there was no flooding on my route and only a few muddy puddles until I came to the cattle farm. The GPS showed straight on so I went – through a muddy field gate. But this was no ordinary mud: there were 4-6 inches of slurry which seemed to have slumped across the entrance to the field, and there was a thin and misleading paper-thin dry crust on top which I and my bike went straight through. YES, said the GPS, you’re right on course, but I gingerly backtracked in search of an alternative while trying to find somewhere to wipe the slurry off my shoes. The footpath ran up the other side of the field boundary fence on a steep narrow path beset with tree roots which I had to push up – making sure I walked in the long wet grass on one side of the path while my wheels were wiped by the grass on the other side; cleaning was making good progress by the time I was back on track.

Appleby provided facilities! And that was about all I had time for as the afternoon was advancing. I had no idea where I would be spending the night. My campsite search had revealed an acceptable site at Knock, before the Pennine climb, with the next at Garrigil Village hall on the other side. I really wanted to get over that climb and do Garrigil, but I knew from my time on the PBW that much depended on the road surface.

In fact the road UP the hill was superb – you could play marbles on it if it wasn’t so steep! It was mainly a steady climb finishing in 1st gear as my legs got tired. My fall was caused by a big wobble as I lost concentration – I came to a halt pointing across the road, put my downhill foot down and fell because the road was too steep to balance that way. It would have been funny to watch but the road was hard! This road goes several hundred feet higher than the road over Hartside, but the road only goes to the radar station, and not over the top to Garrigil, another 9 miles away and 1500 ft below.

I had been considering booking a bed at Garrigill as it was getting rather cold, but as the path got worse it was clear that I would be stuck on the moor for the night. I like wild camping but it wasn’t really the plan for this night. However my best decision of the day was to stop and make camp while I could.

The ruin I saw and made for across the swamp was little more than a shelter, but it did mark a ridge of dry, solid grassy ground with one bit wide enough to pitch my tent – just out of site of the radar station.

The view from my tent was inspiring for its size even if it was pretty featureless. The temperature dropped while I was cooking my pasta and tea, and some stars came out. I zipped myself up tight against the cold with some extra layers but my thick sleeping bag was more than adequate for the conditions. I was glad I had come prepared as this more or less unplanned wild camp would not be my only remote night on this trip if, as I hoped, I made it to Scotland where wild camping is permitted!

The statistics for the ride are taken from my Garmin which pauses when I am going slowly uphill. I think the actual climb was at least 1500 feet more than stated.