Now that is a challenge. Has anyone else done it recently?
Four of us made our way to Hawes Youth Hostel on Friday; a horrendous eight-and-a-half hour drive from London. I've stayed in the youth hostel in the beautiful market town of Hawes on several occasions was sad to say it's not great at the moment. It pongs a bit upstairs in the corridors: the usual smell of humanity seems to have increased. And the bed sheets have a peculiar smell that travelled back with me to my flat. I had to wash or air my kit thoroughly to get rid of it. Maybe it's industrial soap powder.
The standardised breakfast was underwhelming as always but it was only four quid or so so I shouldn't moan. I love the YHA. I really love what it stands for, but small things like cooking the sausage and bacon properly and using a bit of extra coffee to get some flavour in the brown water would make a difference to the quality of the stay. My mattress was slightly sloped as well. How? If anyone is thinking of staying in the YHA hostel he or she would do well to take ear plugs for the snoring (I use blu tac) and bring your own pillow. Moan over, the hostel at Hawes is very relaxed and welcoming and the showers are hot.
We were first down to breakfast and drove across to Horton-in-Ribblesdale to punch in at the Pen-Y-Gent cafe. We parked in a farmer's field who was on hand to take our three pounds. There was an honesty box but from his quad bike he told us only 40 per cent bothered to pay so he had to sit there all morning to make some cash. At the cafe we bought home made rolls and their gorgeous bread pudding for a lunch. The old punching-in machine recorded us leaving at 9.30am on the dot. The weather was the usual mix of sun and white cloud and more ominous dark clouds.
The first climb of Pen-Y-Gent saw us joined by a cyclocross enthusiast hauling his steed up the scramble on his back. And he had enough puff to talk to me on the ascent. At the top he wished us well and shot off along the bridle path. Nicely warmed up we steamed down the track and across the bog to the Ribble viaduct in the distance. Some Yorkshire Dales volunteers were at a junction to tell us a new paved section had been built to save wet feet and allow the bog to recover. I'll take note for next time.
At the Ribble viaduct we paused for some lunch before witnessing a beautiful steam train crossing on the Leeds Carlisle route. Whernside is a steady ascent. It's a chug to the top that can be a breeze if the wind is light or hell if the rain comes in and lashes you from the side.
The sun did disappear and the rain began but it was only spots. I'd come prepared with a full set of waterproofs but didn't need the bottoms once. On my last attempt I neglected to take waterproof bottoms and ended up when it rained heavily with water running down my bare legs, under the top opening of my gaiters and into my boots creating two miniature puddles for the rest of my journey.
I was wearing a pair of lightweight leather boots by Scarpa; the Terra GTX. I've worn these before and they're pretty comfy. I had a pair of gaiters as well and as I always suffer from stones and seeds in my boots I was very grateful for them. My boots kept the water out in combination with the gaiters. I did look a bit of a tit because I was wearing short running shorts and my athletic club vest. But I love the complete freedom of movement the shorts give my thighs and the vest is lightweight and wicks sweat admirably. On top of the hills I whipped out my Goretex jacket, gloves, hat and put my hood up. If I got even colder I put my lightweight fleece over the jacket (to keep the sweat off it to keep it dry as long as possible in case I needed it) and put the hood of my jacket up and got out the wind while waiting for my mates. Again, not the coolest look but who cares; most of the other hikers were men and I'm not hiking to pull the ladies.
With two hills ticked off we all knew the worst was yet to come: Ingleborough descends up, up, up at a steep angle. The path becomes a series of ever steeper rough stone steps. People were walking up three steps then stopping. I made it my mission to tab to the top so I could get some pics of my friends from an overhanging rock. The effort had me blowing hard. And then down the long shallow descent back into Horton for a well deserved pint before heading back to Hawes. We completed the 24 mile circuit in a respectable 9 hours and 35 minutes. That pales when you consider the fastest circuit is around three-and-a-half hours. Insane.
That night in Hawes we'd planned a meal and several drinks in the local pubs. One beer later and a good supper we were back at the hostel and tucked up in bed by 10.30pm, shattered and unable to even talk in more than just grunts. Two days later my thighs still feel dead but the memories will stay with me.
Four of us made our way to Hawes Youth Hostel on Friday; a horrendous eight-and-a-half hour drive from London. I've stayed in the youth hostel in the beautiful market town of Hawes on several occasions was sad to say it's not great at the moment. It pongs a bit upstairs in the corridors: the usual smell of humanity seems to have increased. And the bed sheets have a peculiar smell that travelled back with me to my flat. I had to wash or air my kit thoroughly to get rid of it. Maybe it's industrial soap powder.
The standardised breakfast was underwhelming as always but it was only four quid or so so I shouldn't moan. I love the YHA. I really love what it stands for, but small things like cooking the sausage and bacon properly and using a bit of extra coffee to get some flavour in the brown water would make a difference to the quality of the stay. My mattress was slightly sloped as well. How? If anyone is thinking of staying in the YHA hostel he or she would do well to take ear plugs for the snoring (I use blu tac) and bring your own pillow. Moan over, the hostel at Hawes is very relaxed and welcoming and the showers are hot.
We were first down to breakfast and drove across to Horton-in-Ribblesdale to punch in at the Pen-Y-Gent cafe. We parked in a farmer's field who was on hand to take our three pounds. There was an honesty box but from his quad bike he told us only 40 per cent bothered to pay so he had to sit there all morning to make some cash. At the cafe we bought home made rolls and their gorgeous bread pudding for a lunch. The old punching-in machine recorded us leaving at 9.30am on the dot. The weather was the usual mix of sun and white cloud and more ominous dark clouds.
The first climb of Pen-Y-Gent saw us joined by a cyclocross enthusiast hauling his steed up the scramble on his back. And he had enough puff to talk to me on the ascent. At the top he wished us well and shot off along the bridle path. Nicely warmed up we steamed down the track and across the bog to the Ribble viaduct in the distance. Some Yorkshire Dales volunteers were at a junction to tell us a new paved section had been built to save wet feet and allow the bog to recover. I'll take note for next time.
At the Ribble viaduct we paused for some lunch before witnessing a beautiful steam train crossing on the Leeds Carlisle route. Whernside is a steady ascent. It's a chug to the top that can be a breeze if the wind is light or hell if the rain comes in and lashes you from the side.
The sun did disappear and the rain began but it was only spots. I'd come prepared with a full set of waterproofs but didn't need the bottoms once. On my last attempt I neglected to take waterproof bottoms and ended up when it rained heavily with water running down my bare legs, under the top opening of my gaiters and into my boots creating two miniature puddles for the rest of my journey.
I was wearing a pair of lightweight leather boots by Scarpa; the Terra GTX. I've worn these before and they're pretty comfy. I had a pair of gaiters as well and as I always suffer from stones and seeds in my boots I was very grateful for them. My boots kept the water out in combination with the gaiters. I did look a bit of a tit because I was wearing short running shorts and my athletic club vest. But I love the complete freedom of movement the shorts give my thighs and the vest is lightweight and wicks sweat admirably. On top of the hills I whipped out my Goretex jacket, gloves, hat and put my hood up. If I got even colder I put my lightweight fleece over the jacket (to keep the sweat off it to keep it dry as long as possible in case I needed it) and put the hood of my jacket up and got out the wind while waiting for my mates. Again, not the coolest look but who cares; most of the other hikers were men and I'm not hiking to pull the ladies.
With two hills ticked off we all knew the worst was yet to come: Ingleborough descends up, up, up at a steep angle. The path becomes a series of ever steeper rough stone steps. People were walking up three steps then stopping. I made it my mission to tab to the top so I could get some pics of my friends from an overhanging rock. The effort had me blowing hard. And then down the long shallow descent back into Horton for a well deserved pint before heading back to Hawes. We completed the 24 mile circuit in a respectable 9 hours and 35 minutes. That pales when you consider the fastest circuit is around three-and-a-half hours. Insane.
That night in Hawes we'd planned a meal and several drinks in the local pubs. One beer later and a good supper we were back at the hostel and tucked up in bed by 10.30pm, shattered and unable to even talk in more than just grunts. Two days later my thighs still feel dead but the memories will stay with me.
