MOOR ROW TO ROWRAH.
Hmmm! What an interesting day it turned out to be. It started out lovely with the weather looking good, the tracks through the farms were exactly marked as my trusty Henry Stedman guide book said. From each side of the path sheep were baa baa to each other although they couldn’t see each other through the bracken.
I made my way up through Cleator a sleepy little village and up towards Dent Hill. Passing Blackhow farm with its chooks and chickens running around freely and not at all concerned about the crazy walker passing through. Maybe they new something I didn’t .
The incline starts and I’m hiking on a forest trail before soon enough it turns into a very muddy narrow track skirting a forest. Up I went slush, slush and just as I thought I had a piece of dry grass to stand on oops down my boots went into the mud. I moved into the forest to avoid the mud and found it was so enchanting. It was like fairyland. Little mushrooms or toadstools scattered around the forest floor.
Looking further into the forest it was dark and intriguing, I wasn’t tempted to venture in though just in case I lost the trail.
Soon the forest cleared and Dent Hill was facing me. Straight up, with a stone wall on my right for my guide to follow. I could see the quick flowing mist starting to cover the top and before long I’m in the middle of it. The wind was howling through the trees and grasses. I was concentrating not to loose the path. As I reached the top more mud and water to be traversed. With pole ready the only place to walk was on stones with their tops popping out of the water. It was very hard to keep balance as the wind had other ideas nearly blowing me over. The stones were the only place to walk as all around was bog.
Finally at the top, I took a picture of myself and declared this must be the top if not there is no one here to tell me any different. Up and over the stile at the deer fence I could see in front of me the steep descent down to the fell.
The grasses with their red stems and the purple wildflowers surrounding the hills were making a swishing noise as the wind whipped around us. Once again the colours were beautiful.
The climb down to the valley was steep, slow and steady was called for.
I was nearly to the bottom of the descent, the mist had cleared and as I stepped down over rocks, my foot slipped and down I went. Ouch ! It was the first time ever I have had a fall on a hike. A bit shook up, I checked myself out, piece out of my elbow, bruising that I’ll see tomorrow and a finger that was doubling in size as I looked at it. I moved on as not long to go and the rain is approaching. In fact down it comes… According to the map I was to have a stream on my left but what’s this I’m walking in, a river, no excess water. I found out later that the area floods when it rains. We made our way for the last few kilometres on a very narrow path lined with wildflowers and bracken. The ferns and flowers were drunk with raindrops their branches and flower heads leaning over to us as we walked through. As if I’m not wet enough. At last we see The Shepherd’s Arms our destination for pick up for our lodgings for the night. Before we ring for pick up a big bowl of soup and a glass of red to think about what an amazing day I had. A little bit of everything and the compass skills are improving.
Tomorrow I’m looking forward to staying at the Black Sail youth hostel the most remote accomodation on the C2C . Could be another interesting day!