Here you can see the report from our latest walk and also some of the pictures that were taken.

Unless otherwise stated, report by Paul Coates and pictures by Keith Bilton.

Wednesday 20th - Friday 22nd May 2009

Annual trip to Kettlewell and the Yorkshire Dales

Chris, Nathan, John, Paul, Col, Paul Craggs, Keith, Paul 'Sherlock' Holmes, Stu, Dudley, Ray, Bob, Laurie.

Stu, Nathan, John, Paul.

Wednesday - First away from Hull were Stu, Sherlock and Keith who left around 1 p.m. Their journey was fairly uneventful although Stu & Sherlock were alarmed to find that Keith was sat in the back of the car downloading shower scenes from home. John, Col & Craggsy were next away but not before a tyre had to be changed on John's car. His car had developed an ominous clicking sound on its way round to Col's and on arriving he discovered a giant tack stuck in the tyre. Once the tack was prised out of the tyre the steady hiss of escaping air soon followed. The resultant flat tyre was soon changed and they were quickly on their way to pick Paul Craggs up. The rest of the journey went smoothly apart from Col arguing with the SatNav about the correct route around York.

Wharfeside House (our digs)

In the late afternoon Nathan & Chris departed for the Dales. They stopped off in Knaresborough for fish & chips but claimed that they didn't buy any for anyone else on the grounds they would have been cold once they'd reached Kettlewell. Paul went round to Bob's followed by Dudley & Ray complete with the supplies for the Kettlewell expedition. The car was quickly loaded up but space was at a premium. At one point it looked like some of the food might have to be eaten to fit the rest of it in the car but they managed to squeeze it all in eventually. The only concern Dudley had was with leaving his HKR registered car at Bob's fearing that Pat might have let the tyres down while he was away.

The late party arrived at the digs at Wharfeside House in Kettlewell around 8.30 where they met Laurie who had just driven down from Barnard Castle. Once the cars had been unloaded we went off in search of the others. There are three pubs in Kettlewell so we started our search for the advance party in The Blue Bell. They were nowhere to be seen but while we sat having a drink someone asked where Dudley & Ray had got to. At this point Chris realised that he must have locked them in back at the digs so he dashed off to set them free.

John searching in vain for sausage and chips

We finally found the others ensconced in The Racehorses Hotel where it quickly became apparent that their grand plans to arrive early so they could do a short walk lay in ruins among the empty beer glasses littering the table.

The Racehorses would be the venue for our evening meal the following day so at the request of the bar manager we ordered from the menu for the next day. Only gourmet diner John was put out by the lack of anything containing either eggs or sausages (preferably both, with chips) on the menu. Some of the others had ordered meals earlier in the evening only to discover that the bar manager didn't appear to know the difference between chips and new potatoes.

When Col's meal arrived with chips instead of the ordered new potatoes he pointed out the error to the bar manager. All he got in return was a blank look but eventually Col managed to get his point across and the spuds were re-ordered. Meanwhile the bowl of unwanted chips became too much of a temptation for Keith who began to eat them. However he only managed three as in mid-bite the bowl was whisked away, much to Keith's disgust.

After a session in The Racehorses it was back to the digs for pies & mushy peas. While retrieving a pie from the Aga oven John burned his thumb. He then spent the remainder of the evening next to the sink drowning his thumb in cold water.

As is traditional on these yearly outings the more discerning drinkers among our group provide bottles of whiskey for the enjoyment of the FAC. Even Sherlock remembered to bring his long promised bottle of 12 year old vintage 'Old Pulteney' malt whiskey. Then again as he's forgotten to bring it these last four years it's now 16 years old.

Thursday - Everyone was up bright and reasonably early as our ace chef (Dudley) and his able assistant (Sherlock) were busy preparing breakfast and dishing out abuse in equal measure to anyone foolish enough to get within tasting distance. John was in charge of the toaster (keeping his throbbing thumb well out of the way) and Ray was chief washer up, washing up anything that anyone dare put down for more than 10 seconds.

As is usual on these Dales visits our group splits into two with the A team doing a walk with hills and no pub and the B team doing a walk with a pub and no hills.

A Team	B Team

The A team's (Nathan, Paul, Keith, Sherlock, Stu, Bob, Laurie) route was : Blishmire Close, Rainscar, Dale Head, Pennine Way, Pen-y-Ghent (2277 ft.), Plover Hill, Upper Hesleden, Silverdale Road, Pen-y-Ghent House, Blishmire Close (7.5 miles - 2277 ft).

The B team's (Chris, John, Col, Paul Craggs, Dudley, Ray) route was : Hubberholme, Yockenthwaite, Beckermonds, Yockenthwaite, Scar House, Cray (White Lion Inn), Rakes Wood, Buckden, Hubberholme (8 miles - 2 pints).

Weather : Heavy showers in the morning, sunny periods in the afternoon.

For the A team it was a long drive along the winding narrow lanes of Littondale to the foot of Pen-y-Ghent. We were all wondering if we'd made the right decision as the rain lashed down. The puddles in the road were getting wider and deeper as water gushed down from the hillsides. We eventually got to our waterlogged parking spot at Blishmire Close near to the Pennine Way path and after sitting in the car for a minute contemplating a soggy climb up Pen-y-Ghent we decided to brave the wet weather, get our waterproofs on and make a start. We like walking, we do, us........

The rain began to ease off a bit as we set off walking although the skies were still dark and threatening. As we passed through the farm at Dale Head we spotted a couple of dead foxes which appeared to have been killed by something other than a shotgun. Meanwhile the farm dogs stood glowering at us from a distance, fortunately chained up.

The climb up Pen-y-Ghent was along a steep winding path which had steps cut into the rock. Care had to be taken as the rock was very slippery with water running over and down them. Mist was swirling around us but as we reached the summit it began to clear. After leaving to top of Pen-y-Ghent we crossed some very boggy ground and boot swallowing peat to get to Plover Hill. After this it was a steady downward trek through heather and the dreaded 'Scotsman's heeds' and it was a relief to reach the tarmac of the lane to Silverdale. By now the rain clouds were clearing and the sun was breaking through and so all was well in the world once more.

It was a couple of miles steady walking along the up's and down's of the Silverdale Road. We spotted an Oyster Catcher which flew up as we got close, revealing three eggs. We were soon back at the cars and our drive back to Kettlewell along Littondale was certainly more pleasant than the journey out earlier in the day as the sun was shining and the birds were singing.

We did get stuck behind a builder's lorry going in our direction and every time he met an oncoming vehicle he had to tentatively squeeze by with only inches (and sometimes less) to spare. A question that has puzzled historians for decades appeared to be answered today as Bob reckons that one of the car drivers inching past the builder's truck was the double of Adolf Hitler. So for all these years, and unnoticed by anyone else, old Adolf has been hiding away in Littondale. It's fortunate that Bob is such an observant bloke.

Before we had set off in the morning it had been noted that Paul Craggs was sporting some new 'Action' walking trousers, replacing the threadbare pair that had come to grief in the upper reaches of Rosedale last time out. They looked quite smart plus they came complete with giant turn-ups (or turnips as Keith called them) in the style of one size fits all. Ray later reported that Craggsy's turn-ups had started to fill up with water earlier in the day as the rain steadily fell. We congratulated Paul on his foresight to collect rainwater in his turn-ups as frequent warnings of global warming could result in future droughts. The FAC need never worry about expiring through lack of water with our mate Paul Craggs alongside us with three gallons in each leg.

John Kendrew only just clearing a stream (photo Colin)

When the B team arrived back at Kettlewell it was noticed that Dudley was the only one whose trousers were covered in mud. On close questioning it was revealed that while squeezing through a gap in a wall he'd popped out the other side, not unlike a like a cork from a bottle, and then fell over into the mud.

At this point Dudley had been back marker so the others had continued on their way not noticing poor Dudley floundering around in the mud. Fortunately someone realised that Dudley was no longer with them and went back to extricate him from his unplanned mud bath. Had they not we might well have all starved to death the next day due to a lack of food.

In times gone by senior member Jack Fawcett, who had decided not to come this time, was the king of leaving and/or forgetting things. It would appear on the evidence of this trip that Keith is making a bid for Jacko's crown. He gained points by forgetting his phone charger and his towel. We did offer him the loan of the Yorkshire Dales OS map but he turned us down on account it was the waterproof version. Some people are just so ungrateful.

Other pretenders to the throne are Sherlock, who left his flask back at the digs on our trek up Pen-y-Ghent. He claimed he didn't need a hot drink on such a cold wet miserable day and we almost believed him.

Photo by Colin

Also coming up on the rails in the memory lapse department is John who wondered where all the money he'd been saving with Bob for the Kettlewell trip had gone. He enquired as to why it was that he was paying for his beer/petrol/food/digs out of his own money, but no one else seemed to be mentioning it.

Bob had given out envelopes to everyone on our first night in Kettlewell containing the money we'd saved over the previous twelve months.

John had also received one but he just stuffed it in a pocket unopened and promptly forgot about it. Lucky for him he didn't just chuck it away.

We had our evening meal at The Racehorses Hotel which didn't quite go to plan. Perhaps we should have been forewarned after the previous nights mix up. It has to be said that the meals were excellent, even John was happy with the chefs special of egg & chips, but the aversion to new potatoes displayed by the bar manager reared it's ugly head again.

Both Dudley & Ray had ordered new potatoes which didn't arrive until well after numerous requests had been made for the missing spuds. And the less said about Paul's absent onion rings and the lack of peas on Sherlock's fish & chips the better. All in all not bad but could do better, starting with getting rid of that surly bar manager.

Next year we shall try the Kings Head for meals. We paid them a visit later in the evening and the owners seemed quite friendly and appeared not to view new potatoes as the food of Satan.

Ray's Starters

Friday - The day dawned cloudy and rainy, but to cheer us up Dudley had prepared a special treat of eggy bread along with the usual healthy fried breakfast. He was also wearing his usual chef's attire of chef's hat (with his name embroidered upon it) and apron, complete with a picture of a scantily clad female with stockings and suspenders. It has to be said that the sight of Dudley wearing a blue vest on his top half and stockings and suspenders on his bottom half is more than a little disturbing.

The walk today started at Yarnbury just north of Grassington.

The route was : Yarnbury, Duke's New Road, Old Lead Mines, Grassington Moor, Blea Beck, Blea Gill Waterfall, Hebden Moor, Backstone Edge Lane, Mossy Moor Reservoir, Hebden Beck, Old Lead Mines, Yarnbury (7 miles).

By the time we'd got parked up at Yarnbury the rain had stopped but it was still dull and overcast. The old lead mine workings cover a large area with paths going off in all directions. We strayed off route a bit but soon realised we were not on the right track.

photo by John Kendrew

But with the combination of the map and Sherlock's and Keith's GPS we located the right path and made our way off Grassington Moor to Blea Gill Waterfall. Once there we realised that our half way point (The Clarendon at Hebden) would not be reached in the time we had so the route back to Yarnbury was amended. We took a break at the waterfall where we were entertained by the sight of Chris's cup tumbling down towards the waterfall swiftly followed by Chris. Fortunately neither he nor the cup ended up in the water. Would have made for a good photo though.

The route back to Yarnbury covered much boggy ground with much squelching and splashing in evidence. Col reckoned the A in FAC stands for amphibious. The way down to Hebden Beck was like the Eiger (according to Bob, who had his exaggerating hat on). He'd seen something called the Rocking Stone mentioned on the map but we never found it among all the other rocks lying hereabouts. From here it was a steady climb up alongside Hebden Beck and through more of the old lead mine workings. We had a stop as Bob attended to a stone in his boot, but we just thought it was God paying him back for making us loose much height while searching for the mythical Rocking Stone. And just to cap it all the rain and drizzle started up again as we were about a mile from the cars.

Can anyone see the Rocking Stone?

After getting changed we decided to call in at The Clarendon in Hebden as we would be passing anyway. We arrived at 2.55 which was fortuitous as the pub shut at 3. After a swift drink we said our goodbyes to Laurie who set off home for Barnard Castle while we headed for our traditional last port of call, the Ferguson Fawcett Arms in Walkington. Considering it was the Friday before a bank holiday the traffic was fairly light so we made good time. Paul's car was red leader one and his decision to head off down the A1 was aborted as the matrix sign at the head of the slip road flashed 40, a sure sign of trouble ahead. So it was round the roundabout once more (with John & Stu following) to head off down the A59 towards York only to see the matrix sign now flashing 60!, but we decided to give the A1 a miss anyway. We arrived at the Fergy just after 5.30 but there was no sign of Chris & Nathan. They eventually arrived 30 minutes later having gone via the A1 and ending up getting stuck in heavy traffic.

The weather could have been kinder but still a good two days up in the Yorkshire Dales. Thanks to Dudley & Sherlock for keeping us fed in the manner we've become accustomed too and to John for not blowing up the toaster, despite his attempts at prising a piece of toast free with a metal knife. And also not forgetting Ray who now has the softest hands this side of Willerby.

Hebden Beck