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Half way up a mountain, Utah, United States

Monday, July 19, 2010

Day 31: Start of the Pennine Way

It felt like a momentous occasion to be standing at the Nags Head pub and the official start of the Pennine Way (or Wa as it says on the sign)






Curt and Ivan left yesterday for Gatwick airport and Mick dropped me in Edale to begin the Pennine Way. I am back on my own for a while and it feels both exciting and a little scary.

But I am now equipped with the entire set of maps for the trail and a compass.

And I am ready for my biggest challenge yet - The Pennine Way.

This trail starts in the Peak District National Park and travels due north over the South Pennines, through Yorkshire Dales National Park, the bleak and remote North Pennines, traverses Hadrians Wall, through Northhumberland National Park and the Cheviot hills before entering into Scotland where it ends at Kirk Yetholm. Two hundred and seventy miles in total.

To date (July 14th) I have walked for 31 days and have covered 335 miles (353 including today). Let me just state that my feet have walked all that way. Not bad for a cripple that usually has a hard time getting out of bed in the morning.

I set off from Edale with Ipod on and happily marched along the trail with head down. After passing through several gates I suddenly realised that I hadn't noticed an acorn (the official national trail symbol) sign for a while. Chastising myself and realizing that I needed to take more care with route finding, I got out the guide book (yes I have a guide book AND maps) - that's when Sarah came wandering by, another lone female walking the Pennine way.

Meeting up with Sarah at that spot was in hindsight very fortunate for me. Mick had tried to explain how severe this trail can be, both in terrain and weather but I did not have a concept of this until I was there and experiencing it for myself.





About half an hour out of Edale it began to rain and as we climbed towards Kinder Low the wind began to howl and the mist descended. We could only see a couple of feet in front of us and the path petered out onto a plateau of gritstone rocks and peat bog. There were no acorn signs up here and without a compass we would have been doomed.

Somewhere along here we met up with another couple who were in the throws of an argument as to which way to go. Heather, as I was later to find out her name, kept on saying how thankful she was to have met up with us as her husband was useless and would have almost certainly got them lost! I must have looked the part, wafting my compass into the mist but I did admit to her that I had only a five minute instruction the night before on how to use the thing. She was happy to tag along anyway and although looking a little dejected, I think hubby was too.

[The mist and rain lifted for a few seconds for me to take this picture. Navigation was obviously easier here because of the flag stone path over the bogs]





But man, am I glad Mick gave me that lesson because it was invaluable and we were able together to navigate through the mist.

After sixteen miles of viewless, misty moorlands I said goodbye to my new comrades as they were staying in a B&B and I was walking onto the youth hostel a couple of miles away. We had made brilliant time because we had not stopped once. I had marched for eight straight hours with water pouring down my neck and my feet squelching in my boots. I was ready to stop and get dry.





I am now at the Crowden youth hostel and in a bit of a mess. I can barely walk and took the elevator labeled "disabled only" up to my room. I am not sure of my ability to walk to the dining room for breakfast tomorrow, let alone miles on the Pennine way.



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