This trip had been arranged for months and months. I suppose I’d seen it as a sort of celebration of freedom – charging off to the Dales for a week as soon as I’d finished the school year and taken early retirement. I’d invited James to come along too, and he’d said he’d accompany me on the first couple of days, before heading off home back to work.
The route I’d planned was originally based around the Top Ten Summits in the Yorkshire Dales, but over time I’d gradually changed it, until it bore very little resemblance to the original route. And when I announced I was taking Tilly with me too, James flagged up the issue of dogs not always being allowed on access land in the Dales………. So, for once, I listened to him and looked it all up on the internet. It rapidly became apparent that several of the spots where I was planning on wild camping, would in fact be a no-no with Tilly along, so alternative arrangements had to be found.
And then, as the day of departure rapidly approached, I became more and more uneasy about the hot weather. I was struggling in the heat, the dogs were melting somewhat, and the moors around us were particularly devoid of any water. I was going to have a heavy pack with 6 days worth of food in (20kg) and extra water, as was Tilly, with her panniers full of dog food.
I studied the weather forecast and made a difficult last-minute decision. Saturday – the planned day of departure – was still set to be very hot, whereas the Sunday was supposed to be a good deal cooler. I decided to postpone the trip by 24 hours. Unfortunately, this was no use to James – and I did really feel a bit guilty – but I am quite content that Tilly appreciated the cooler start. Still, I have got James a peace-offering. I know he likes fig rolls, so a packet of these should suffice, I think.
So this was the Saturday. We’d still gone up to Hawes in the van on the Friday afternoon anyway, but as the weather was still around 25C, we spent the morning chilling by the river with the doggies.
Dixie doesn’t actually do swimming, but she still enjoys dipping her toes in the water and cooling her tummy. Tilly, on the other hand, is a total Water Baby.
Some shade was also found for a bit more laid back chilling,
before finally retreating back to the van for an easy afternoon and last minute preparations.
Today’s planned route was about 8 miles. Geoff dropped us off near Aisgill Moor Cottages, and we set off over the moors towards Garsdale.
Still sunny and dry, but only about 19C, it was fairly pleasant going.
We initially followed a bridle path – marked on the map but not clear on the ground. Tilly had to be kept firmly on the lead as she was in bunny-hunting mode and, apart from anything else, you have to be careful that she doesn’t totally wear herself out by running around so much, that she covers four times the mileage that you do.
Dropping further down towards Garsdale we picked up a quiet track, on each side of which were plenty of signs saying that under no circumstances should any dogs be allowed to set paw onto said moorland. We took great delight then, in sitting on the said moorland at the side of the track, in order to have lunch number one.
Tilly can be very awkward when she sets her mind to it.
We then had another few miles to go before setting up camp for the night, as we had a low ridge to cross before finding our spot for the night in Dentdale.
Once again, we followed one of those bridle paths that are clearly marked on maps, but in fact don’t actually exist on the ground at all.
Since I’d realised that wild-camping with Tilly in this area was not going to be totally straightforward, I’d googled various farms that allowed tents. To be fair, I don’t actually mind putting a little bit of money into the local economy for a peaceful spot in a pleasant field. Tonight’s pitch was at a farm in Cowgill, and for a mere £5, we got a lovely spot next to the River Dee, in Dentdale. Not that there was much water in the river, mind.
In fact, Tilly was a bit miffed that there wasn’t enough water for a cooling afternoon swim.
Tilly hasn’t got anywhere near as many tent-nights under her collar as Dixie has, but I have to say that she was an absolute star in the tent. And she spent the first night of the trip practising various positions of repose.
The one down side to the day, was that my previously comfortable walking boots seemed to be giving me a bit of gip – I had some very sore toes on my left foot by the end of the walk. Maybe a good night’s sleep would sort them out.
Today’s route was to take us over to Ribblehead. I’d discovered that the Station Inn on the Hawes-Ingleton road, allows wild camping, free of charge, on the moors behind the pub. Sounded reasonable enough!
There had been a bit of rain overnight, but by the time we were packing up, the heat had been firmly switched back on. We were taking the Dales Way down towards Dent village, before turning left and picking up the Craven Way, over the eastern sort of shoulder of Whernside.
And although I’ve no idea what the temperature did actually get to that day, it did just seem to get hotter and hotter.
Whilst toiling uphill, shortly before lunchtime, we happened upon some more people wilting in the heat.
They were a group of girls from Nottingham, on the final day of their Gold DofE Expedition, and I have to say they were delightful. I stopped and had a break and a chat with them, and we then proceeded to keep passing and bumping into each other for the rest of the afternoon.
As the day wore on, Tilly did start to give the appearance of a dog beginning to melt in the heat.
There was no cooling water to be found on the ground, so it’s a good job I was carrying extra for her. Several restful breaks were definitely called for.
Someone, however, did find a mud bath to wallow in.
And admit it, how many of you are now thinking that there’s no way that dog would be sharing a tent with you?
Thankfully, as we joined the main path off Whernside and started to drop down towards Ribblehead, we came across a river; not quite deep enough for a proper Labrador swim, but still deep enough to remove the bulk of the Labrador mud.
Not long after, Ribblehead Viaduct came into view,
and after calling in at the Station Inn for a half of Coke and a Kit Kat, we set up camp on the ground behind the pub.
Not only is it free to pitch up here for the night, they’ll also let you fill up with water from the tap in the Beer Garden. Very reasonable, I thought.
I quite like arriving at the night’s destination mid-afternoon, setting up, having a brew and something cakey to eat before lounging around until dinner time. I’m certainly not ashamed to admit I’m a bit of a slackpacker. It rather looks like Tilly will fit into this regime quite happily, too.
‘Twas all very civilised and pleasant, until the plague of flying ants arrived!
There were far more than the photo shows as well, but thankfully they all seemed to clear after 30 minutes or so. Never seen anything like that before, but it did mean that once we finally retired for the night, I passed a happy 30 minutes or so killing the ones that had made it into the tent inner….
And what about my feet today, I hear you ask? Well, they were very sore. Worse than the day before. Don’t know what had happened to the boots that I had previously found reasonably comfortable, but I was beginning to hate them.
Another excellent sleep last night and we awoke to a grey, somewhat cooler morning. Today’s route was about 9 miles, to a farm on the far side of Horton-in-Ribblesdale. We had to walk along the road a touch first, before picking up the Ribble Way over the moors towards Pen-y-Ghent.
My feet were hurting right from the word go, this morning. I am pretty stoic about things like this and obviously could keep going for days if necessary, but I was starting to wonder if the fun aspect was disappearing a touch, when every single step hurt.
As the morning progressed, I suddenly walked into the first mobile signal I’d had in three days and took the opportunity to text Geoff. He and Dixie were busy gadding about somewhere in the motorhome, but I’d no idea where, other than it was likely to be in Yorkshire. I told him that I was contemplating stopping the walk the next day due to my boots driving me mad, but I hadn’t made any definite decision as yet. He replied that he’d keep an ear out for more texts coming through, in case I wanted them to pick us up.
In the end, though, the decision was taken out of my hands. Whilst still about four miles out from our destination, Tilly did one of her bunny chasing routines and unfortunately hurt herself. She came back to me on three legs, waving her hurty, front, left paw at me. Drastic measures were obviously needed. We had a bit of a rest, I rubbed it and kissed it, and the pain obviously subsided a little. She was still limping though, so we slowly continued on our way.
As we got closer to Horton and the signal got stronger, I gave Geoff a ring. Two more days of longish walks were not going to be the best thing for a hurty paw – especially with Tilly’s history of joint and skeletal problems – so Geoff and Dixie (who were currently over in Barnard Castle) said they’d come over and meet us the next day.
We continued on our way, having plenty of rests. After each time we stopped, the hurty paw seemed to stiffen up again, before loosening up a touch as she got back into a rhythm.
Eventually, we reached our camp.
This time we had a whole field to ourselves, totally peaceful, and for only £3 for the night.
The weather got a bit wild and windy overnight, but a good sleep was still had by all.
So, all we had to do today, was wander a couple of miles into the centre of Horton, where Geoff and Dixie would pick us up.
After some drugs the previous night and a good rest, the hurty paw was a little better, but she still had a bit of a limp.
She did have a mega treat on the way to the village though – she found a ball. A wonderful, bouncy, orange ball. And that made her do a big skip.
And as for me – I’m off to buy some new boots.
20 thoughts on “Hurty Paws Interrupt Play In The Dales”
Ooooo I do envy you. I hope your retirement is long and happy. 🙂
Not only that, being so close to Yorkshire, just as with the Peaks, there’s a lot of lovely countryside up there.
I hope Tilly’s paw is ok now?
We just love the Dales and they’re just the right distance for a quick few days away.
A couple of days taking it easy in the van (and a soft bed to sleep on!) seemed to sort Tilly’s paw out thanks. 🙂
Good trip report Chrissie. Always good walking in that area and not too far from home either. How are your feet now? Have you considered using trail shoes for backpacking?
Thanks, Mark 🙂
My feet are fine now and I’ve been walking in my lightweight Keen boots since then, ’till I bought myself some new leather ones. I am a bit of a boot person really, but I have to say I’ve never had problems quite like that before, even though I’ve done longer backpacks in the past. And to be honest, since breaking my ankle a few years ago, the thought of going out without a cuff covering my ankle bone fills me with dread – if it got knocked by a stone or something, I don’t think I could stand it 😦
Anyway, I got myself some new ones yesterday and have gone for Brasher this time. Never had these before but Geoff has; they seem lightweight and with a wide toe box – which I need. With hindsight, I think the old boots were a bit narrow around the toes.
We shall see!
Yes I can understand about the ankle, Mary has a fear about that as well after her accident. Boots for the winter unlined Scarpa’s (same as James B’s) but I like trail shoes for spring – autumn. Never worn Brasher ( well Berghaus now!), but very popular so I guess they are a good boot
It’s funny, but my winter boots that take a semi-step-in crampon, are some Raichle, stiffened, B2 ones, that despite being heavier, are actually very comfortable! I’ve had them years – in fact Raichle is no longer Raichle, is it? – but I think their comfort for me is because they are extremely roomy and therefore space for 2 pairs of socks. I don’t wear them very often these days though, they’re really for proper winter conditions; they’ve had more use in the Cairngorms than anywhere else.
Footwear and backpacks are always the two hardest things to get right. A very personal choice and logic doesn’t always follow!
Excellent travel report. I enjoyed the trip thru Your very beautiful photos.
Thanks, Matti! 🙂
Some cracking walking. Recognise a lot of the photos. Shame about the sore feet. That is something I can sympathise with, having arthritis in both feet. These days I normally stick to light boots, preferably mids. Fantastic photos. Hopefully Tilly and yourself are the mend?
The Dales are a super area, aren’t they?
I actually have a toe on my left foot which is longer than it should be, so it can sometimes cause problems, but this time it seemed to be all my toes which were sore! Anyway, all seems ok now and have just come back from a wander in my new Brashers – which seem fine so far……..
Tilly says she’s fit and well again too, and thanks for asking 🙂
Fabulous posting Chrissie with enchanting photos and stories. I’m glad to hear that Tilly;s paw is on the mend and that you have a new pair of boots. I understand wanting to have strong support around my ankles. Love your stories so much – it’s always like “I’m right there”. Great big virtual hugs for you and chop kisses for Tilly and Dixie from Karen and Wyatt Earp the Boxer.
Hi Karen, thanks and lovely to hear from you 🙂
Have you and Wyatt Earp bought yourselves a little RV yet? I keep waiting to see the photos of it!
That’s two sets of hurty paws then? We had a day of flying ants when we were on the Isle of Eigg, the tent was covered in them.
They better be super special nice fig rolls……..
And thankfully, all hurty paws seem fine now 🙂
The tent was totally covered in those ant things at one point, I just didn’t have the camera to hand at that moment. Don’t know where they came from or went to, but I’m sure one bit me.
Mmm, fig rolls…. might have to buy some more. Might have eaten some in a moment of fig-roll weakness…
Ouch. I’ve abandoned a trip before now due to foot discomfort – it’s frustrating, but there comes a point where you know you just can’t carry on.
Lovely photos, and it looks like a great trip until you had to stop! Great idea to investigate farms which allow camping – were they easy to find?
It’s funny how feet can totally take the fun out of something! I do know that if I’d been out in some wilderness somewhere, I could have carried on, but when there’s a more comfortable option nearby it almost seems daft not to take it 😀 I certainly wouldn’t have been happy forcing Tilly to carry on in pain, though.
It wasn’t mega hard finding the places to camp, but it did take a bit of determination and doggedness on the internet – and then you generally have to end up ringing them as they don’t have published e-mail addresses. And however nice wild camping is, it can make a nice change having a tap and a flushing toilet in your own personal field!
Incidentally, when I was on the St Cuthbert’s Way earlier in the year, I did something I’ve never done before, which was just stop a farmer in the middle of the road and ask about anyone in the area who he thought might allow me to stay the night in my tent. Much to my surprise, he offered me one of his fields. No toilet or tap that time, but still a very pleasant spot and a river in the next field (although I had actually filtered enough water earlier in the day as I didn’t know where I’d be camping) so it just goes to show what a bit of courtesy and politeness can do!
Lovely trip that, I’m just starting to rediscover the joys of the Dales (thanks to Mark). I hurt my foot while I was on hols and had to use crutches for a couple of days and spent the whole holiday limping. Sympathy on a postcard please 🙂
Thanks Andy but sorry to hear about your foot. I’m sending lots of sympathy over the ether!