This was our longest day so far, and it was very warm with little breeze. Fortunately it was not an arduous route, and we took frequent stops. We had decided once again to leave the Pennine Way, which at this point detoured SW before heading north – a two day walk to Alston, rather than our 16 miles.

The first part of our walk followed the Miner’s Track on a good surface, passing a reservoir and parking place. We continued on this trail across moorland for some miles on gravel before meeting a quiet B road. Our app suggested leaving the road to cross the moor but from past experience we decided the road was preferable, until we found a footpath leading to the village of Garrigill. Although the pub was no longer open, we were able to purchase refreshments at the Post Office – the only shop in the village. At this point we rejoined the Pennine Way and our route took us alongside the River Tyne all the way to Alston. The only drawback was those pesky horseflies who accompanied us! We are now in Cumbria!

A Backward Glance

From the start today we were bathed in sunshine and a stillness broken only by the soft crunch of our boots on the gravel path leading us up out of Langdon Beck. We stopped briefly at a car park by the Cow Green Reservoir where we met a young chap who’d clearly stayed there in his car over-night with his wife, which is against the rules! I identify with rule breakers (free spirits I call them), who believe regulations are to ‘regulate’ and not prohibit. The route was an old mining path, still lined with ruins of old buildings it would have served in a previous age. Even when we reached the B6277 road which we walked along for several miles, the scenery just kept on giving. It was only when we met a path along the River Tyne that Carol’s attention was interrupted by lots of tiny winged admirers. Carol decided to play an old children’s game called ‘it’ with them, but they were much better than her and she seemed quite distressed throughout whole affair. Carol is not a good loser and at one point got so mad, started trying to bash them with her walking poles, which is not at all in the spirit of the game, but entertaining nevertheless. However, be assured, Carol is so bad that not one little beastie was touched let alone hurt all the time they played against one-another. The river walk seemed to be a link between open moor and walled pastures as we closed in on Garrigill. From Garrigill to Alston it was four miles crossing small grassy fields, climbing over dozens of stiles and weaving between nervous sheep and curious cows.