Keïteï Ventures

A week of hiking along the Pennine way.

I don’t want to get up, my body protests…I peer out from my tent and can see low clouds drifting carelessly along, washing over everything. The descent is painful on my ankle and I’m happy to reach the bottom. A road leads onto the next ascent which is a swift up and over and this is where the low clouds turn into rain. Thankfully I can report now, this was the only rain I experienced on my whole Pennine Way trip – storms arrived the week after I finished the trail.

Down the other side and a farm looms out of the fog. A hiker with a bright orange rain cover appears and we greet each over as we pass. I’m excited for the next bit as I’ll be arriving in Malham which will always have a soft spot in my heart as I spent a summer working there. Malham Tarn estate is quite grand with an old woodland surrounding it. Dozens of bird boxes are attached to trees and i enjoy a peaceful morning amble through the it. Wild strawberries and raspberries line the track on either side and are a welcomed break as I am growing tired of my hiker food.

Arriving at Malham tarn, two more hikers appear. They’d spent the night in Malham and carry day packs towards their next stop over to night. I arrive at the top of Malham cove, a place I know well after leading school groups up and over it many times. I pop into the youth hostel to visit the managers but they’re on holiday so I amble onto the National Parks visitor centre where I have lunch and buy postcards. I swallow an ibuprofen and pick up speed once it kicks in.

I traverse through Airton and Hanlith where tons of spots to wild camp catch my eye. It is far too early to pitch so on I go. Sun light spoils me as I enter fields of cows and sheeps, the river meanders through the valley. I reach Gargrave after the pleasant flat section and resupply. This will probably be my last resupply on the trail and I fill my backpack with tons of hiker goodies including sugared donuts. 😀 Leaving the village a lady passes by asks if I’m hiking the next section.
“It’s lovely, I hike it when I can, especially the part where you reach the canal, how far are you hiking tonight?”
“As far as I can”
“Are you camping?” I nod “You are so brave, I am scared of camping alone”

Hiking on and the friendly lady was right, the late afternoon sun added to the glorious as it slowly gave way to the evening. Fields of golden yellow hay bowed in the wind, ancient trees loomed over head full of bird song and I met the canal where I took a well earnt break to demolish three donuts.
Another farm’s tuck shop appeared and was equally as organised and the previous one. Drinks, snacks, medical items, santiser, ice lollies, a bin and a guest book, everything a thru-hiker would ask for.

I amble on and hope for a spot to camp. It is starting to get late and my legs and feet are beginning to ache. Down into a village, I rise out of it and find a baby pine forest plantation. I had had high hopes for this on my map but the trees are too small to be of cover. I reach a car park and dog walkers are milling all over the place. It will be difficult to find somewhere to camp to night I think as I look over my map and see little in the way of campable woodland. Reaching the summit, I take a slight side trail which may offer somewhere to camp. If it doesn’t I will cross paths with the Pennine way again in under a mile. Following my hunch, I bimble through moorland and purple heather trying not to look too obvious with my intentions hiking so late. The path heads through a small woodland and I detour from it, arriving at a flat part. There is enough cover thankfully with a blanket of pine needle to create a lovely bed. I pitch, have my final donut, catch up in my journal and slink into in my tent. Chuffed with my location.