We
start the day with a full and hearty breakfast interrupted midway through by our
host, clutching the phone, to enquire if we have lost a camera. Disbelievingly
Pete converses with an hotelier in Brampton whose guests found it yesterday. From
the photos she has been able to project our route and describe our appearance
to likely establishments and so eventually track us down. Directions are taken
and plans made to pick it up from her on our way back tonight.
Buoyed
up by this good news we merely shrug off the disappointment of there being no
shop in Greenhead; it will be iron rations (water, apples, chocolate) until at
least Cawfield Quarry visitor centre where an enterprising local is reputed park
a refreshment van.
On
our way by 10 o’clock, the route now also doubling as the Pennine Way, we are
soon ascending the grassy slope above Thirlwall castle revealing fantastic
views back along yesterday’s route. The ground is wet but the day starts dry
with blue sky behind scattered clouds.
From
the car park at Walltown visitor centre the path rises steeply past a
well-defined turret site at the start of Walltown Crags. Along the ridge it is
up and down, but the up is always more than the down, to top out after about 2½
miles at 290m. All along this stretch the wall is a constant companion, punctuated
by turrets and milecastles, and picturesquely in one dip a walled “King
Arthur’s” well. To the north, far below the ridge, are miles of unspoilt
wilderness, from which increasingly troublesome rain squalls hurl themselves at
the fortifications, the crags, and us. Waterproof coats are on and off like the
covers at an Old Trafford test match.
Eventually
there is a steady decline from the ridge, losing the wall first through a small
wood, then across spongy fields before remnants return in the form of a giant
walled field that preserves the site of Chesters Fort (Aesica). More wet fields,
and puddled stiles, lead down to Burnhead and Cawfield Quarry. Here there is a visitor
information centre and it’s a nice spot for a lakeside picnic, but there is no
refreshment van in sight. The four hard miles have taken the best part of three
hours to cover, but all we have for a reward is a rock to sit on and a mars bar
to share. Musing on our slow pace we realise that the four miles are as the
crow flies, and so peak to peak, whereas we are earthbound and have had to
cover the vertical as well as the horizontal distances.
Within
20 minutes we are on our way up the steep slope, past another well-presented
milecastle site (no. 42) and on and up to Cawfield Crags. The big dipper day
continues with a drop down to Caw Gap before another steep climb up to
Whinshield Crags. At least the showers have ceased so we can strip off to shirt
sleeves to tackle the long undulating slopes, terminated by the welcome site of
a trig point at 345m. From here the distant Twice Brewed Inn can be seen
beckoning far below.
For
once the path’s decline is steady rather than precipitous, and the hamlet of
Peel is reached rapidly. From here a diversion off the path down to the
military road is needed but it takes just 10 minutes to reach the
aforementioned pub. It is now nearly 3 pm and after 5 hours (six since
breakfast) and 7 miles we can rest, relax and refuel. Tea and hot sandwiches
are ordered, and pending its arrival two halves of the local Twice Brewed Ale
are despatched to quench our immediate thirst.
Well
satisfied with this watering hole it is an hour later that we drag ourselves
out and stride stiffly back to Peel to tackle the final two sets of crags for
the day. A steep natural staircase takes us up past milecastle 39 atop Peel
Crags, before we enter a delightful downhill section. For once we are on the
north side of the wall, passing through the dappled shade of a pine wood high
above the peaceful waters of Crag Lough. Every downhill section just leads to
the next, bigger, uphill one, and this time it is up Hotbank Crags. Declining
from those we say farewell to the Pennine Way, envious of its weaving route north
across the flat plain while our path continues east, once more ascending, this
time up Cuddy Crags.
Finally
the decline of Housesteads Crags, through a small wood, leads us to the welcome
sight of Housesteads Fort (or Vercovicium), and a locked gate! Pete uses some
deeply buried Scottish ancestral knowledge to scale the fort walls and gain
entry. At 5.30 it is eerily deserted and there is time only for a cursory
glance around the impressive remains as the visitor centre, a good half a mile
down the hill, (with its hot drinks and food) closes at 6pm.
We
make the distance in 15 minutes and are able to partake of hot chocolate and
caramel shortbread while awaiting our pick-up and lift home. We have covered only
9½ miles (10½ including the pub diversion), but it represents a hard 7½ hours
walking (OK - 6½ hours excluding the pub). That does make 30 miles for the
three day jaunt, and the plan to break the walk here and return in the spring
is probably wise.
Sam
and George arrive in the car park to congratulate us on our interim achievement
and take us home. Of course we need to divert via Brampton to pick up the long
lost camera and offer profuse thanks for saving the photographic record of the
early stages of the Ancient Roam. Hopefully the camera will have dried out by
April to enable completion of the task.
