Day 3 - Horton In Ribblesdale to BarnoldswickThe plan had been for this to be an easy day, just 30 miles and an early finish for some gear administration. This was falling apart apart in 3 ways:
1) We hadn't yet made our start point for the day.
2) I was cream crackered. I'd struggled up the last climb on day 2 and been pretty useless when we arrived at the camp site leaving Mr Bond to sort things out with the owner.
3) The weather forecast was foul from about 09:00 through 14:00.
We also had a couple of minor mechanicals that would need dealing with. Mr Bond runs cable operated disk brakes on his bike, he'd been caught out by how frequently these needed adjusting on day 2. The pads were not far worn when we started but it was already clear the 40 clicks of the adjuster for a full set would not last the trip. On my bike the lower bottle cage had cracked:
I reinforced it with some large cable ties I was carrying.
The sensible thing would be to nip down from Horton to Settle, sit the worst of the weather out in a cafe and then finish as planned. I decided to be sensible. Mr Bond wasn't having anything to do with that 'sensible' word so as we packed up we agreed to meet up later. Mr Bond particularly wanted to do the next stretch as it passed Ingleborough cave. Then the voices in my head started up and it quickly became a meet up in Austwick instead of Settle. My resolve to the 's' word crumbled further when Mr Bond mentioned that there was a small cafe at the cave, not much but a tea would likely be found. So literally as we swung our legs over the bikes 'ah f##k it, I'm only here once, I'm coming too.
So we pedalled North back 4km to where we'd left the Bridleway the previous night, resumed on some great early trails and soon we came upon this:
Mr Bond commented how sometimes the man made things truly complement a scene rather than despoiling it.
And here is Mr Bond wrapped up against the weather astride his bike which by now had been dubbed The Good Lady Fatarse:
After crossing the B6479 yesterdays 4th climb began initially on tarmac, then gravel, boulders and lastly just grass except for a few patches of exposed bedrock. It was raining by now which made the going slippery. At the top we came upon views of a vast natural limestone amphitheatre:
This is the view back down the way we'd come:
You can see that clearly defined trail can't you?
We put the cameras away as the rain became very heavy and fought our way across the top of the hills into the wind, gusts were practically stopping us in our tracks. On the descent the heavy rain had transformed the going from slippery to trecherous. We did see Ingleborough cave, from a viewpoint on the wrong side of the valley so no tea stop yet. It really was very technical indeed getting down here safely in the pouring rain. We passed our first cyclist near sighting the cave, just one going the opposite way on a hardtail & sensibly no load.
Lower down where the tracks are closer to farms they improved to this sort of thing:
As we rode into Austwick we saw a number of tandems with visually impaired stokers going the opposite way. We asked in the post office/shop if there were any cafés near by and were given directions to a couple of options. And the tandems came past again going the other way, back the way they'd come. A bit of faffing and map folding while we decided what to do and here come the tandems again. This time the postmaster flagged them down and guessing the coast to coast route they were on set them on the right road. Same way as us it turned out.
The climb out of Austwick was hard, I wasn't surprised we didn't catch the tandems but it occurred to me the lone singleton in the group must be one hard bugger! We skipped a short section of Bridleway as we needed to make up time. The higher we climbed the harder the rain. Mr Bond was dropping behind me which was unusual, he was out of fuel and struggling. Relief came at the
Knight's Table café. We were utterly wet through. I cannot praise or complement the staff at the Knight's Table highly enough. From the moment we stood dripping in the doorway we were made to feel entirely welcome, the cheery "Morning! You'll note I didn't say good!" from the chap on reception set the tone. We were unsure about entering in our state but were assured it would be fine, the floor could be mopped. It's also worth noting that the Knight's Table is huge, we sat dripping and no doubt stinking in a corner away from the other clientèle.
So, a pot of tea while the menu was read, hot food and another pot of tea while we contemplated the maps. We could see across the Stainforth valley from the café:
We decided to skip the climb up the far side and instead head on road, NCN68, to Settle. After Settle we'd resume the Bridleway as the road alternative was crap. This sorted it was time for cake and one more pot of tea. We settled up our bill adding a lump of flapjack each to our bags. Our 2 restful hours ended and we were on our way in light rain. In Settle Mr Bond spied a bike shop hiding behind the market stalls so we stopped for brake pads and the strongest looking bottle carrier they had.
Looking back to Settle:
Some undulations across the top of the hill and then a whiz down to Long Preston where there's a gap in the Bridleway route, it's not hard to pick it up again. At
High Scale farm you get diverted off across a field:
This at first sight seemed to be some kind of access agreement thing aimed at keeping the hoi polloi away from the farm buildings yet at the end of this field you pass right by the rear of the farm buildings. There is an extremely noticeable lack of way markers here which we found most odd. You cross the field beyond the trees Mr Bond is heading for yet due to the hill you cannot see the far side so have no idea where to head for. We had no choice but to go to the high ground, pick a gate and hope. Thanks to Mr Bond's Garmin with full OS maps onboard we chose the correct gate. Were it my farm I'd mow a strip or allow, as other farms have, the National Trails organisation to put way marker posts across the field. It was worse at
Low Scale farm, here there was little doubt markers had been removed both for the bridleway and for the Ribble Way footpath. Reported to North Yorkshire council and National Trails.
At the Ribble we paused to weigh up options as we still needed to make up some time:
The trail continued next to the river or we could take a road route, we opted for the river. This wasn't any fun at all, there we no views of the river and we were soon slogging across grass farm fields again. There's nothing pennines-ish about that kind of bridleway, we could just as well have been in Surrey or Sussex. As soon as we could we joined the A682 (nasty) and got through Gisburn.
Immediately the climbing resumed but we both welcomed it. The road was quiet and easy to begin though ever narrowing. We had to smile at the gent in a 4x4 resolutely conforming to the Yorkshire sterotype - flat cap, miserable expression and not so much as a wave of thanks as we pressed ourselves into the hedges to allow him past (up to that point every driver we'd taken to the verges for had waved thanks). Once the road could narrow no more it became this:
That's about a 27% slope if memory serves.
Near the top we saw the sun for the first time that day, it lasted nearly two minutes in which Mr Bond managed to get this which captures the brooding black cloud cover contrasted with the moment of sunshine pretty darned well:
We were glad to have spent our time hauling ourselves up to this rather than slogging the flat lands around Gisburn, we hadn't time for both. Here's a couple more from the same spot:
Good trails across the top of the hills before the drop towards Barnoldswick arrived:
As we started down from the summit we were passed by a cyclocross rider moving across the ground far faster than us and were then overtaken by a couple on matching His 'n' Hers MTBs. This was a nice long descent to Barnoldswick where we joined the Leeds and Liverpool canal heading towards our overnight stop.
The first bad news was when we passed the pub we planned to eat at, the Anchor Inn at Salterforth. It had a distinctly closed look about it and closer inspection confirmed it was shut on Mondays & Tuesdays. Bugger. On to the camp site at Lower Greenhill where ukcampsite.co.uk promised we'd find a full suite of facilities. Instead we found nobody home. There were caravans here but no reception, and no clues. The only noticeboard was used for a vast array of No This, No That and certainly No Enjoying Yourself signs. Eventually someone turned up and told us they don't take tents any more. Problem. We were given directions to another site so we pedalled up hill again back the way we'd come the 0.75 miles we were told would take us to 'a mini roundabout the far side of town'. No roundabout and nor were we near reaching town yet - typical drivers distance estimation not malice. We carried on into town and stopped at the Police Station (closed) and Tourist Information (no accommodation info at all posted in the windows). We'd figured out by now that the site we'd been directed to was one we'd both seen in our planning and were sure was not a good option. A check online confirmed that Thornton Hall farm is more a kids amusement type of place. They take camping but have few facilities including no showers.
Mr Bond was struggling again - 'I'm shot, you'll have to do the thinking'. Instead the phone and lastminute.com (iirc) did the thinking and a quick call to
The Old Stone Trough secured a twin room at a bargain price. Another volte face, downhill, past the non-campsite and on to the very welcoming hotel. For the second time in the day we were made to feel entirely welcome and were even allowed to lock our bikes in the cellar. Shower, beer, food.
The route planned:
http://cycle.travel/map/journey/14012The route taken:
https://www.strava.com/activities/374938195
