2012 10 10 Wednesday

Walney to Whitby Day 2

Oxenholme to Tan Hill

Where do I start with this unfolding story? So much has happened today. Well, as I sit in the Tan Hill Inn lounge nearing midnight writing this blog after all and sundry have gone to bed I'll start with an apology to Stephen I suppose. A repeat of last time and he requested it!

Sorry Stephen, it was a terrible omission not telling everyone you're a plonker. It went like this . . . As we, the tailenders arrived at our hotel last night, The Station Inn, Oxenholme with relief and delirium really, we realised that Stephen was 200 yards beyond the place. He'd cycled past and missed it totally and it's a big building on the corner of the crossroads! Bearing in mind that Stephen booked the accommodation it came as some amusement to us!  And that's it! I’m sorry you’re a plonker Stephen. Is that OK?!

Right, balance redressed, onto today's performances.

Our journey started in the dining room at 08:00, once the doors into the Inn were unlocked. As our rooms were in the outbuilding we were locked out of the main building until they deigned to unlock! To all you early risers: jolly hard luck! Being a tardy sort the doors were open by the time I emerged!

The breakfast, served to all five of us and not one person more, was very average. But for me, any B&B breakfast that doesn't include a hot brew, meusli and marmalade, not together obviously, has failed and fail they did! So, only half fulfilled we posed for the obligatory photo and got going, 10 minutes late according to Michael! We’re getting better!

The day was grey and cool. We were layered accordingly topped out with our dayglo jackets. The day's ride started out with one hill followed by another. This "bad planning" is never well received but, mustn't grumble . . . . the route is a given after all. But, with the total age of the group exceeding 325 years you can see where I'm coming from! By way of illustration, the first main stop entailed a certain baring of flesh and the application of lotions and potions.

Happy on the quiet back roads and setting out as the tail end of the morning rush hour was in its closing moments, we were content with the relative peace which ensued. Creaking bodies and groaning bikes aside all was well!

For quite a way our route this morning was roughly northwards. We were aiming for the legendary Tebay gap, between the Lake District mountains and the Howgill Fells and then journeying east to the roof of the Pennines at Tan Hill.

As a matter of great disappointment, we came so close to but completely missed Kendal and the Lyth Valley. Therefore, no local produce either mint cake or damson gin to fortify us. Only time would tell if we would find a suitable alternative.

We soon crossed over one of our favourite landmarks, the M6 and the west coast main line before descending at a pace to the magnificent but disused, rust-coloured stone Lowgill railway viaduct at Beckfoot.

Route agreed, we descended further thought the beautiful vernacular Beckfoot hamlet to the river Lune. This bridging point must have loads of history if the narrow old slate bridge is anything to go by.

A steep ascent up the other side brought us to the road which skirts the Howgills, those magnificent rounded hills, east of and so different to the Lake District fells (Dave told me to say that! He’s very fond of them).

                                         Here he is, Dave admiring his beloved Howgills . . . .

We headed towards Tebay but with ankle trouble Brian took the shorter route carrying on the old main road through the village to get to Orton for lunch. The rest of us purists stayed with the official route on the quiet but very up and down lanes. This took us over more becks: Fairmile, Borrow, Roundthwaite, Bretherdale, Eskew, Birk and Chapel! All such very northern names. At Birk Beck we had the chance to roll alongside the tree lined babbling beck and it was all rather relaxing until we had to climb again up to the West Coast Main Line underbridge. However, we had the good fortune to arrive in time to get up close and personal with a Virgin Pendolino. Simple pleasures! But to have seen a double headed steam train climbing this bank would have been something else.

Orton was well placed for lunch. Stephen had found Kennedys fine chocolatiers on the Google map so we tried them. They were rather expensive but “complementary” real handmade chocolates arrived with our hot drink! Missing Kendal wasn’t such a disaster after all!

Replenished we cycled along a rolling road, very much like an estate drive planted with tree shelter belt eventually climbing up onto the moors. It was desolate up there but at least it was calm with no wind so we were content passing the beefy curious cows on the unfenced road. We were on Tarn Moor for a while then rode down into the Eden Valley to Kirkby Stephen for afternoon tea at The Pink Geranium Cafe with fruit cake or crumpets. There was some banter about the cake as I missed out on it but I had the last laugh going up to Tan Hill. In the end I didn’t weigh as much as the cake-eaters so got ahead. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Approaching Kirkby Stephen we passed where an old railway level crossing once existed. Looking at our map revealed an old railway route curving round Kirkby Stephen and up over the Pennines to the North East, the South Durham and Lancashire Union Railway. Once a very busy route it was closed by Beeching in 1967. In its heyday it brought coke from the NE coalfield to Barrow in exchange for Iron Ore. It seemed incredible to make this discovery since we only saw the iron ore mines yesterday!

Our final leg took us round the edge of Stonesdale Moor to the start of a six miles ascent to Tan Hill. It was steep in a number of places and caught out most of us. On the really steep part at Barras edge a large Victorian house stands overlooking the valley. It turned out to be the old stationmaster's house on the South Durham and Lancashire Union Railway’s Barras station which, when in service must have been one of the highest stations in Britain at around 1150 feet above sea level, almost identical to Dent, currently the highest.

Our final leg over the huge, remote and increasingly open and windswept moor just south of the notorious A66 was a painful one for Michael's knees and Brian's sore ankle. Even though Dave declared it bad as well and in spite of being the oldest he managed to get to the Tan Hill Inn first. I was close behind messing about taking photos and enjoying the thrill of the occasion! Before the final climb we covered a mile or two of unfenced road crossing the beautifully named Potter Sike beck draining into the Bealah valley below where we were treated to hazy views as the sun cast its rays through the greyness.

And finally, to the legendary Tan Hill Inn, perfectly placed for our second overnight stop. It's location fitted exactly into our schedule, half way on the W2W and at least ten miles in any direction from significant habitation. It is so well known as the highest Inn in Britain at 1732 feet above sea level and the pub in the Everest double glazing advert. Derbyshire farmer and tv presenter Ted Moult RIP fronted the ad and famously dropped a feather to show there were no draughts through an Everest window. Until recently a framed photo with the actual feather inside had pride of place in the lounge bar but it has been stolen. A "Wanted" poster hangs in its place!

Back in Kirkby Stephen when we asked the proprietors of the Pink Geranium what to expect there was a certain sharp intake of breath and circumspection. We were definitely left pondering what it would be like, thinking the worst. Stephen was most concerned as he'd booked it! On checking in we were asked to pay in advance which is most unusual and made it look like they planned to do a runner in the night. The location is so bleak and windswept it's a bit League of Gentlemen with all the connotations that suggests. Nevertheless, we started to settle in. We settled down to a beer for half an hour to reward ourselves for our superhuman efforts getting here before going to our rooms.

Showered and changed we returned to the bar for our pre-booked dinner only to find the chef hadn't turned up. We had another pint to help contemplate the situation while we waited, Dent Brewery Ewes Juice and Black Sheep! Finally Adrian, the Polish publican realized that chef Maria must have swapped shift with chef Alice and both had forgotten. He doesn't do cooking but was able to offer us a meal of frozen lasagne . . . and were we grateful?! In the end a very pleasant evening was had and we were the only customers.  What happens in the morning will rest in our hands it seems!! The parting conversation with mein host suggested Michael would be helping out in the kitchen!

Today we cycled 44 miles and climbed a total of 4610 feet although it seemed a great deal more to me!