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Contents :: PENNINE WAY :: Dale 12                       INTRODUCTION DAY 4 DAY 9 DAY 14   PREPARATION DAY 5 DAY 10 DAY 15   DAY 1 DAY 6 DAY 11 DAY 16   DAY 2 DAY 7 DAY 12 DAY 17   DAY 3 DAY 8 DAY 13 PREP RUNS                     THE PENNINE WAY PASSES OVER PENYGHENT AND FOUNTAINS FELL     NATIONAL TRAIL GUIDES UK           Day 12 :: In the Mist Again :: Horton in Ribblesdale to Hanlith :: 15 miles           After today my running for a few days would be in considerably less hostile territory, while I crossed the Yorkshire Dales.  Today, however, contained some severe terrain and when I awoke, having not slept very well, I had a sickly knotted feeling in my stomach.  Whether this was from nerves or from last night’s meal I am not certain.  Probably a little of each. During the night the weather changed.  It became cloudy and overcast and a strong wind arose.  When I awoke in the morning it was to see rain laden clouds whipping across the mountains, and, before breakfast, the clouds descended upon the mountains, swathing them in mist.  This included Penyghent and Fountains Fell, both of which I would be traversing today.  Penyghent is dangerous when it is clear of mist, the path on its southern side being extremely precipitous and involving a small rock climb and obviously much worse in wet and misty weather. I would be running today over Penyghent and then up and over Fountains Fell and down to Tennant Gill Farm.  This would be the worst and most dangerous part of the route.  After this I would run to and around Malham Tarn and then over some magnificent karst scenery, taking in the famous limestone pavement above Malham Cove, descending the Cove itself and then passing through the village of Malham and finishing my run at Hanlith. The weather forecast for today was for light showers, dying out later.  This was a joke.  As I set off to run the weather had worsened considerably.  I did not wish to abort my run today, but neither did I wish to be foolhardy.  I decided I would still complete my run but rather than run up Penyghent from Horton I would drive to the far side of Penyghent and run it from that direction, running to the summit, retracing my steps and thereafter continue as already planned, over Fountains Fell etc. The entirety of Penyghent was shrouded in mist and I could not afford to take the chance of losing my way and missing the path down.  The path was not well indicated near the summit anyway and in mist would be very difficult to pick out.  If I made a mistake here it would be dangerous.  By running from the far side I would merely have to retrace my steps and so route-finding would not contribute to the danger.  The distance to be covered would be about ¼ mile shorter than originally planned.  It would still be dangerous, particularly in view of the gale force wind that I was later to discover blowing near the top of Penyghent. Before leaving the car a couple, who were hiking with their dog walked past.  The girl said to me “You’re better off staying in the car”.  They had been camping on the lee slope of Penyghent and had come over it.  I could not help but feel that my decision to run it from this direction was cowardly, but as events turned out it seemed that I made the right decision, for I had barely set off when I met two others coming down from Penyghent, who were walking the Pennine Way.  They, however, found the path too severe in this weather and took an alternative route through Brackenbottom, leaving out the summit.  They had only a faint idea where they where and were obviously distressed.  I showed them my map and gave them directions for their way forward.  A little further on I met a trio of hikers who had attempted walking up Penyghent but had decided not to proceed further and had turned back. I had set off from the road near Dale Head Farm.  Rachel waited for me in the car and I would report back to her after completing the run up Penyghent and running back down, before taking on Fountains Fell.  I would be more committed when running Fountains Fell, for once Rachel drove off I would have no choice but to complete the run.  The mist hung so heavily I was not sure if I should continue after Penyghent, but postponed that decision until returning from it. As I left the car the familiar sound of barking dogs from a farm could be heard.  Last time I was here I heard the same continuous, insipid barking.  As I approached the farm the barking grew louder and became more excited and as I passed the dogs I was glad to see that all three of them were tethered.  I soon passed the farm and made my way to Churn Milk Hole, a large featureless crater just off the path.  At the other side of the path a small gill actually disappears into a fissure.               Penyghent, hidden in mist, from Churn Milk Hole   Churn Milk Hole           From here my view of Penyghent was occluded by the dense cloud cover in which it was enveloped.  The clouds were very low and I would shortly enter them.  For now I could still see Rachel’s car parked on the road and I presumed that she could still see me.  I pressed on, passing into the mist and out of sight of Rachel. It was here, near the signpost for Brackenbottom, that I met the two hikers earlier mentioned, and just a little further on when I met the three hikers who had aborted. As the path ascended it steepened and soon gave way to stone steps at the side of which was a precipitous drop onto the boulders and rocks strewn on Fawcett Moor.  As I had entered the cloud layer the wind had increased in strength very considerably and was making me feel very insecure on the steep, narrow path along the cliff face.  Quite apart from the buffeting the terrible roaring and screeching of the wind played tricks with my imagination and I fancied all sorts of dangers, some of which were very real.  With the wind had also come the rain.  The rocks over which I was traveling were now becoming very wet and slippy. As I climbed, the stone steps transposed to small ledges in the cliff side and I was obliged to scramble up the remainder of the face, reaching the top with only a little relief, for the wind was so severe here that I was obliged to stoop to provide a smaller surface area for the wind to press upon and to lower my centre of gravity so that I could retain my balance.  I was becoming more and more frightened as the wind and the rain pummeled me with invisible fists, reaching from some hidden lair in the mist around me.  I was aware that the rocks I had just climbed up were becoming wetter and more slippery and the wind seemed to be growing in strength.             Pennine Way - steps before reaching the rock climb   Buttress near summit of Penyghent           At this point I made the decision that to proceed further would be foolhardy.  I had climbed the worst parts and to proceed further  would mean losing sight, in the mist, of my return path.  I could not afford to do this.  In fact, it was the fear of doing so that had forced my decision to run from this direction rather than to ascend from Horton.  I therefore turned back.  I did not enjoy the rocky descent and took more time over this than the ascent.  I prevailed, however, and in time found myself over the most hazardous parts and back on the narrow track, from where I ran quickly down, retracing my steps to the car.               Penyghent approaching the summit   The summit of Penyghent (hidden by mist)           Fountains Fell is not much lower than Penyghent, but the path is far less severe and far less dangerous.  I had previously been to the summit of Fountains Fell but from the far side only and had not continued down towards Horton.  I was not familiar with this side of the Fell and the map indicated some steep parts near the summit.  The Fell was still completely swathed in mist, but I decided I would proceed as planned.  Rachel thought I was insane.  I had to agree with her.  But the first group of hikers I had passed had said they were going up.  If they could do it so could I.  I said farewell to Rachel, feeling worried and anxious but also feeling an exhilaration of adventure, having just been up Penyghent.  I reasoned that it could not be any worse than that. Rachel insisted on staying put for 45 minutes, just in case I decided to turn back, for she was afraid for me.  But I didn’t.  I ran along the road to a track on my right, just opposite to Blishmire House.  I passed the two hikers who had said they were going up.  They’d had enough and were not proceeding further.  This was not very encouraging!  I decided to continue anyway.  I had marked all of the compass bearings for the entire route on my map and as I took my first steps up the Fell I checked my compass. The track was very accommodating and easy to follow, and I hardly needed to use my compass.  I was soon back in the mist again and this added to my tension, but before too long I was near the top.  There were some steep parts, but the mist shielded me from the most disparaging views and I soon made my way to the boundary wall and cairn atop the summit.  Although the wind was strong it did not seem anywhere near as strong as on Penyghent.  The stone wall, with stile over, marks the boundary of the Malham Tarn estate.  I felt good with myself.  I had conquered my fear of this place and of Penyghent.  I was grateful for my decision to continue and was now experiencing a real buzz.               Summit of Fountains Fell   Looking back from Fountains Fell summit           I did not stop to admire the view - there was none!  I descended quite fast down the lee slope, although this seemed to go on forever and I was wondering if it were the same path I had once been on.  It did not look familiar, but there was no other path, and logic taught me that it must be the correct one.  After a very considerable time I left the mist and caught my first glimpse of Malham Tarn, far in the distance, on the horizon.  I still had to run to this and some way beyond!  Phew!               Descending out of the mist on Fountains Fell   Approaching Tennants Gill Farm           I approached a ladder stile over a stone wall into Tennant Gill Farm.  As there was no one around I stopped to relieve myself in the shelter of the wall.  I then climbed the stile to find two hikers sitting against the wall on the far side, sheltering from the rain, and waiting to ascend the Fell.  They must have heard me and known what I had been doing!  I muttered an embarrassed “hello” and ran quickly down the grassy slope to and through the farm, not noticing the bull which a sign at the stile warned of. I was soon out of the grounds of the farm and had crossed the minor road adjoining it, making my way to a Pennine Way marker post at Freer Hood.  From here I ran along a wall and  fields, making my way towards Malham Tarn.  As I neared the Tarn I entered a wood at Waterhouses, where I startled two girls changing.  One of them actually saw me coming, but the other was behind a tree.  I could not see her as I approached and she was unaware of me.  I was running fast as the path here was easy.  As I passed the bole of the tree which hid her from view, she saw me and jumped.  As she jumped I jumped. She startled me as much as I she!  We laughed and I continued.               PW sign & mist over Fountains Fell from Freer Hood   Pennine Way at Water Houses           I ran around Malham Tarn House, which is a field study centre, and around the tarn.  I had not experienced such a view at all while running the Pennine Way and it made a refreshing contrast.  As I ran around the tarn, however, I was very exposed to the wind which still blew quite strongly.  I had been here before but I had not then noticed all the things I was now noticing.  For example, I had not before noticed the Scar of Great Close Hill and yet this looked magnificent now.  The water of the tarn was spuming with white crests driven up by the wind and at the water’s edge there was a brawny lapping sound. There were many tourists around here and I received many strange looks.  I did not look even remotely like a tourist – more like a vagrant.  I was very muddy, very wet and very dirty.  I was running in skimpy clothing in inclement weather and all those I passed were dressed in nice clean, tidy fleeces and/or waterproofs.  I did not care.  I was here to achieve and I was achieving.  Because of my increased exposure to the wind I was now losing heat, even though I was running.  I increased my pace in order to generate more energy, and this was sufficient to see me around the tarn where the terrain soon exacted even more energy from me and generated more heat. Once around the tarn I crossed to and beyond a car park and followed the Pennine Way path to Comb Hill and along Watlow’s dry valley below Ing Scar.  This was magnificent karst scenery, the Scar being pitted with caves.  The ingress to the valley was steep and very stony and was impossible to run, reducing me to a fast walking pace.  The stones were also wet which made them slippy and hazardous. I passed the two hikers and dog I had met earlier before setting off for Penyghent.  They’d had a considerable start on me. As I rounded a sharp bend I was met with the most sensationally dramatic view I had so far seen on this run, a view towards Janet’s Foss and the Gordale Valley.  It was superb with its steep, rocky cliffs and its valleys and caves.  There were many people sitting, eating, talking and just looking.               Ing Scar   Looking towards Janets Foss and Gordale Valley from Pennine Way           After the trials of Penyghent and Fountains Fell this scenery was really very refreshing.  If that was not enough I now came upon a very large limestone pavement at the top of Malham Cove.  The Pavement was fascinating to look at, but the view over the Cove, with its sheer drop of several hundred feet to the valley below was breathtaking.  Far below I could see the Malham Beck winding snake-like far into the distance.  The Beck springs from below the cove and does not fall over it, as one would expect. The clints and grikes of the Pavement are precarious to cross and running was out of the question.  I walked to the edge of the Cove and held my camera over it to take a picture.  It was dizzying, and more appreciated  by those having a better head for heights than I.               Malham Beck from the limestone pavement above the Cove   Malham Cove           At the side of the Cove is a steep and very long flight of steps leading to the foot of the Cove.  The Pennine Way follows the steps.  I was grateful to be heading down and not up.  I had previously run up these steps (or most of them!) on an earlier run.  I raced down the steps and along the good track below to the Malham Road and made my way into the Village, not stopping, but crossing the small bridge over the Beck to re-find the path on the far side. From here the Pennine Way cuts across a number of fields.  I had expected to cover the distance from Malham to Hanlith in about five minutes, but as usual I had under-estimated the distance and had in fact forgotten the path.  I had expected to emerge from the path at the bridge in Hanlith where Rachel was to meet me.  I had quite forgotten that the Pennine Way leaves the river before reaching Hanlith and that it afterwards follows the road down through the village to the bridge, but as I continued to run it all came back to me. I was very pleased to see Rachel parked at the bridge, and I think she was considerably relieved to see me.  We drove immediately to our accommodation in Kirby Malham where I showered, stretched and changed.  Rachel and I then drove to Malham to browse the shops and then to Skipton. Kirby Malham is just 7 miles from my holiday cottage at Craven Ridge in Giggleswick. Unfortunately I did not own it at the time of running the Pennine Way.         Day 11 Day 13       Author - Roy McKee Copyright © Roy McKee 2006