After days of greyness and damp, the clouds hinted that they may clear and offer a hint of decent weather, so grabbing our chance, The Dog, The Hubby and I piled into the car and headed to Grassington in Wharfedale for a walk. About 30 miles east of our home, we drove down to Settle on the main A65 before passing through Settle and meandering over the tops to Wharfedale. We fancied a bit of a slow scenic tour, along narrow Dales roads lined with unforgiving dry stone walls. The car hauled us to the top, offering a large expanse of exceptional views south, across towards the town of Skipton and beyond. Patches of land basked in tunnels of sunlight when the clouds briefly parted, but looking north, the hills were shrouded in a mist of rain showers. This could go either way.
Halfway we dropped into the tiny sleepy village of Airton and continued down more country lanes, meeting the odd car – here motorists are very courteous, diving into any passing place to let other drivers pass, even reversing to do so, then a wave of a hand to thank each other and off they go. We drove through Hetton and Cracoe before arriving in Grassington and turning right into the Yorkshire Dales National Park car park , finding a suitable spot and letting The Dog out of the boot. The weather is looking promising.
We paid £5.00 to park for the day, knowing the parking fee goes back into the National Park and their work and with walking boots on, we wandered up to the High Street to find the start of our walk. Grassington is a tourist hot spot, the centre of town full of clothing shops, gift shops, cafes and various other outlets aimed at the wandering visitor. It is where the current TV series “All Creatures Great and Small” from the James Herriot books, has been filmed which has increased its popularity even more. There were a few people wandering around, but not heaving. I was pleased to note that the local Nisa mini supermarket had toned down its usual corporate signage and it complimented the surrounding stone buildings. But there didn’t seem to be a local butchers or bakery which seemed a bit sad, if this was true. Perhaps residents shopped online or went to Skipton for their weekly shop.
View looking back to Grassington
View towards the river Wharfe
We wandered further up the lane, following our map and found a little ginnel (alleyway) between two gardens and found the track leading out to the fields. It was a little muddy and there were few large puddles, but it was a pleasant pull up with the unfolding Wharfedale landscape opening up before us. We contoured along for a while before dropping into a small woodland and a SSSI (an Site of Special Scientific Interest). It was lovely.
The clouds were being kind and were allowing large chunks of blue sky to appear – we were walking across large flagstones which saved us slipping and sliding across the fields, which had been squelchy. We crossed through stiles, with gates on top, strong sprung hinges that threatened to thwack your legs as you went through. Our 15 year old dog leapt through these as if she was a young pup, her eye/paw coordination still there, even if the hearing isn’t. Occasionally the back legs failed to keep up and she scrambled through, but had a nonchalance of “I meant to do that” before impatiently setting off while we still struggled over. A farm track snaked across our field, a 4 x 4 vehicle working its way up to a remote farmhouse high on the hill – can you imagine arriving home and realising that you’ve forgotten the milk?
We dropped into the little village of Hebden, nestling in the valley bottom, dissected by the B6265 Grassington to Pateley Bridge road. We carried on down a side road and onto a footpath, which popped out onto a back road. The pedestrian suspension bridge over the river can be seen from the road here, before dropping down towards the River Wharfe. Crossing the bridge takes walkers to Burnsall, but we were going right back towards Grassington. Here we found two signs. The first declared that “canoes were strictly forbidden”. We wondered what would happened if you rocked up with a kayak? Further along, there was another sign informing any potential fisherman that they required a fishing permit or else – interestingly, the same message was repeated in 6 Eastern European languages underneath. It was an interesting sign.
The sun had now joined the blue sky and it felt warm and springlike. It made you smile and the world felt so much better. The footpath followed the river back towards Grassington – we decided not to cross the stepping stones across the river – and kept to the path until we reached the bridge at Linton and the weir. Squeezing through a gap in the wall – to the left was the wooden bridge by the weir, taking walkers to the village of Linton and to the right, the footpath climbed up the hill between two stone walls which burped us back into the car park.
We dropped our packs and muddy boots back into the car and headed back into Grassington looking for lunch. We looked at the menu of a fancy looking pub and recoiled at the prices. How much??? We wandered further up the road and found the Foresters Arms, a more traditional looking public house with a menu to match and we ventured inside. It seemed very quiet at first, but it had a roaring fire. The decor and furniture were rather dated, but it added to its charm and we fell into conversation with a lone walker and his dog. The landlord was attentive, but not intrusive and The Dog liked him as she got a treat out of him – she curled up and had a snooze. We ordered a steak and ale pie, a nutroast in a Yorkshire Pud (which got changed to veggie sausages which was a far better offering)and a sausage for The Dog. The food came up hot and plentiful – proper pub grub and we dived in. The Dog devoured her sausage – it barely touched the sides. The pub was filling up with people and it had a nice atmosphere – our kind of pub. Finishing our drinks, we thanked the landlord, said goodbye to the lone walker and headed outside. The clouds had decided that we had had enough sunshine for the day and closed in – the temperature had dropped too. We wandered around, peering into shops, visiting a fantastic hardware shop absolutely stuffed with everything you could think of (love those kind of shops) and a small independent outdoor clothing shop. Having exhausted Grassington, we meandered back to the car and decided to head home.
Typical of us, we took a convoluted route back home – starting with the back road to Coniston, remembering our days (before the kids) as Yorkshire Dales National Park volunteer wardens and this being our old stomping ground. It was mainly maintenance work or just patrolling and we did alternative weekends – our patch was wide ranging and we got to know the area extremely well. It was great fun and we have a lot of fond memories. We drove past Kilnsey Crag where climbers scale the cliff face, turning left into Littondale and through little hamlets of Arncliffe and Litton, traditional stone farms and houses dotted all over the valley. We headed up the dale where it becomes quite remote and passed behind Pen-y-ghent, one of the Three Peaks of Yorkshire (the other two being Ingleborough and Whernside – charity walkers usually walk all three in a day, a total of 25 miles). We dropped into Stainforth, north of Settle and then cut across country back to our home. It’s trying to rain again and it’s gone grey, but it had been a lovely day out to blow the cobwebs away.
apathtosomewhere 