Finn and Susan’s big adventure – Day 1 – Tuesday 22 June 2010 – Dufton to Garrigill – 16 miles

This is the walk that was abandoned in May due to mist. But today has been a scorcher and the views have been amazing. The walk itself is very remote and bleak and I’d hate to do it in bad weather. My guidebook referred to an article in The Gentleman’s Magazine of 1747 regarding Cross Fell, the highest point of the Pennines, saying it is “generally ten months buried in snow and eleven months in clouds”. Today, there was definitely no white stuff and the clouds were just fleeting.

I’ve had four big hills today – Knock Fell; Great Dun Fell; Little Dun Fell (which is not little at all and needs to be renamed); and Cross Fell. Knock Fell was definitely the worst to get up – I actually thought we were at the summit an hour before we really were.

We met eight or nine walkers today, all very chatty and all making a fuss of Finn, who has been off the lead nearly all day. Until about three miles from the end when a Neanderthal farmer yelled at us over two fields with an awful lot of gesturing and grunting, to put Finn on a lead. Now, there were no sheep in this field for a start, and Finn was laying down knackered, so I’m not sure this abuse was fair. I realise there are a lot of dog owners who probably don’t respect the land they’re walking over, or the landowners. But I imagine these type of dog owners probably aren’t walking the Pennine Way. The farmer has obviously had a bad day. I hope it gets worse.

I had a nose around the first bothy I’ve ever encountered – Greg’s hut – an emergency shelter with very basic accommodation, ie, the floor! There was a stove and a pile of wood piled up outside. And there was tea, coffee and a kettle. No electric, running water, or sewage – but there was a very thoughtfully provided spade …! I imagine the hut is a godsend if you’re stuck up on those fells and the mist comes down.

So, a very good day – quite a tough sixteen miles, but we’ve a day off tomorrow to find a pub to watch England play in the World Cup.

(Post script: Finn and I watched the game in the Wallace Arms near Haltwhistle – with a dozen or so Geordies in the pub’s back room. Finn had not been made welcome by Shandy, the pub’s lurcher, but when he refused to fight with her or respond to her barking, she took herself off somewhere else. Finn just shrugged his shoulders and slept on her bed for the duration of the game – he has no shame!

While in the pub, I met the young lad I’d last seen at Garrigill who I assumed was walking the Pennine Way. Wrongly, actually as he’s walking Lands End to John O’Groats on his gap year before university. He’s also planning the walk around England games at the moment!)