A Very National Trail Two Hundred & Sixty Eight Miles - Or More if You Get Lost !
Back in the 1970s I made a promise to myself to one day walk the pennine Way. It wasn`t until the mid 80s before I found the time to do it all in one trip, I also remember thinking it would be a breeze, which of course it wasn't. I gave myself two weeks, time enough for most people travelling in the traditional manner, using bed and Breakfast or youth hostel hospitality to dry out, enjoy hot meals and a warm bed for the night. Being the thrifty fellow I am I chose the rather less salubrious option of camping wherever I could, for free. I hadn`t walked anything like this distance before, and didn’t even own a decent pair of boots. All my equipment (with the exception of my stove) was to say the least; rudimentary. It was modest yet adequate, it also weighed so much it made me wonder, how ever was I going to carry it all for the best part of three hundred miles. I had been on shorter excursions, taken to much & thought I`d learned sufficiently from the experience, not to carry more than was sensible, like `binoculars`, taking this rather weighty accessory on a previous trip, found them filled with mist, ( like they had their own micro climate ) and useless. I still had around 40 pounds or (18 kilos) in my rucksack and more about my body, which became something of an anchor as the trip advanced, it took three days before I realized I should jettison surplus equipment to lighten the load, sadly it didn`t make much difference as I needed most of it to survive. The official start is in Edale and I was determined to walk the whole way, whatever the consequences; (there were many). It was a great experience and my memories of it are the best, I cherish them to this day and intend to go back soon to & rekindle those memories, and this time I will take a camera.
==================================================== - A Chance Encounter -
"I Went to The Hills & They Welcomed Me"
I stumbled across these words on a commemorative plaque on a park bench in the peak district many years ago, a seat for weary travelers with sore feet and time to reflect on the enormity of their challenge, the Three Peaks Race. The bench had been placed by a loved one to commemorate a life that was better for walking the hills; than not. Conveniently positioned close to a small shop it left one of many indelible marks on my memories of my walk along the Pennine Way, although I`m sorry to say I can`t remember who it commemorated.
I do remember though, the rubbish bin beside and a swarm of hostile wasps buzzing around as if specially trained to move along anyone trying to abuse the right to sit in peace for more than five minuets, it was like they had a vested interest in moving people along to make way for more weary travelers. Inside the shop on a small counter, was a visitors book, it`s pages turned up at the corners from the passage of grubby hands across it leaving comments about their experiences. The book was open with a cheap plastic biro taped to a piece of string it`s pages beckoning travellers to sign and leave a comment. After resting for, `well not long enough` I gave in to the insect torment and carried on with the journey. After many years of reflection I still find it difficult to empathize with an Insect whose soul purpose in life it is to attack everything in sight. I have a deep love of nature and most things in it, but have yet to find a single redeeming feature in Wasps.
Having fed and watered myself, (and injured a few wasps) I continued on, and as we are never too far from anyone on this small Island It`s wasn`t long before I met an elderly gentleman walking towards me. He was wearing a long Macintosh raincoat, suit pants with a Tesco bag to complete the outfit. As he was coming towards me I felt compelled to greet him and ask where was going to.
Morning ..where you going..!
“Pennine Way” he replied, Oh..!
Thinking he was lost or confused and obviously not dressed for the occasion, I questioned him further.
How far are you Going..?
All The Way..!
Where have you come from..?
Kirk Yetholm, I`m 83 you know..!
That’s wonderful, you look very well.
Yes I`m 83..!
Yes I know..you just said that.. I thought to myself
To match his unsuitable clothing he wore a pair of well worn brogues, brown leather shoes with lots of tiny holes punched in the uppers to form a pattern with soles that looked to me that they had walked no further than a few miles, perhaps from his home, which reminded me of another encounter I once had with another old gentleman, a suitcase, the Local vicar, a twenty pound note, a drink in a pub, a phone call, and a visit from an asylum to collect said gentleman several hours later, but that’s another tale, so I wished him well and carried on.
Somehow I`ve never been able to believe he was walking the entire way, rather that he was just out for a stroll and imagined he was. But either way it became one of many interesting encounters with strangers I had as I nibbled away at the miles. The Great thing about a well trodden path is that however remote you think you are, with your head down and pressing on, your never far away from the next single track collision with another like minded individual (or not) with which to share a unique moment or two, always - unplanned - unrepeatable - sometimes unbelievable - and often Memorable.
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