Category Archives: Backpacking

The Dales Way – Sedbergh to Kendal

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June 16 – Today is a rest day for us, and as luck would have it, rain is forecast for the whole day. When booking this hike, Jim hit a snag, as the next destination after Sedbergh was a place called Burneside, that had no available accommodation whatsoever. The best thing we could do was to book in Kendal, a fair sized city not too far away.

This morning at breakfast, we asked our host Carol if she could call us a taxi. After a half hour of trying, she reported back that all three taxis in town were already busy. Perhaps the bus? Great! We love buses. As it is Saturday, the bus runs on a reduced schedule. The next one comes at 10:50. Great!

We walked down to the bus stop, in front of the library, and chatted with the librarian and folks coming in for books, including an older couple who told us where all their relatives were buried from the Great War. Eventually, the bus pulled up, and folks queued up in typical British fashion. It wasn’t a full sized bus, but more of a large van, with many of the seats already taken. Two people paid and embarked, at which point the driver announced that the seats were all full, and no one else could get on.

Folks got out their mobiles, trying to call a taxi, or canceling their plans. We asked if we couldn’t stand and ride (absolutely not). The driver called and asked if another bus could be sent for the six of us who couldn’t get on, but there was no other bus available. Sigh. Another bus would come in four hours.

The old couple from the library watched all this transpire, and when we walked dejectedly back into the library, the husband offered to go get his car and give us a lift. Nice People of England! Philip is a lay preacher at the Methodist Church in town, and we spent the half hour ride talking about his family and his faith, singing in the choir, and the sermon he was writing for Sunday. What a nice man!

So here we are in Kendal.

A bustling town with folks out shopping on a Saturday in the rain.

They have a famous Chocolate House that’s been here since 1657.

We didn’t stay out long, but bought some food (meat pies) and went back to our nice hotel for a lazy afternoon of doing laundry and watching the World Cup games. England may be a contender!

The Dales Way – Cowgill to Sedbergh

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June 15 – Eleven miles planned for today. No rain in the forecast, but no sun either. High temp will be around 55 – fine brisk hiking weather. After yesterday’s adventure, we are looking forward to an uneventful walk. Want to see more sheep and cows? Didn’t think so. Here are my first pretty pics walking out of Cowgill.

So, just to catch up, at some point during the past few days, we left Yorkshire, and are now in Cumbria. The town signs tell us we are leaving the Dales, and entering the Lake District, although we have not yet seen a lake. Stay tuned.

On previous journeys, I’ve described how the trail is marked, to help hikers follow the right path. The marks on this trail are small and far between – a little white or yellow arrow on a fence post, sometimes reading Dales Way, and other times just Public Path, Bridle Path, or Footpath. Jim has a guidebook that he refers to throughout the day to keep us on track.

We haven’t gotten lost, so I guess the markers are sufficient!

Some more prettiness.

By lunchtime we had reached the little town of Dent, birthplace of Adam Sedgwick, the father of modern geology. They are very proud of him here. His father was the vicar of the local church.

More prettiness.

We see Sedbergh, our destination for this evening.

Once again, the gardens do not disappoint!

We are staying at a two bedroom B&B with a shared bath. We walked down the Main Street to a Bangladeshi Indian restaurant where the food was absolutely scrumptious. A good walk will give you a good appetite!

The Dales Way – Swarthghyll Farm to Cowgill

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Our Swarthghyll Farm hosts John and Freya came over and introduced themselves after their daily chores were done. Although Freya used to work in Los Angeles, they love the life here, and wouldn’t trade it. They purchased the farm as a ruin – no roofs – and have been building it back a bit at a time. Freya had prepared us a lovely pasta casserole for supper (yay! no chips!) that we just had to pop in the oven.

June 14 – It was a treat to cook our own breakfast in our little kitchen this morning, with farm fresh eggs and lots of coffee. We watched the weather closely, as we read that a big storm was due in this area. Not sure how they define a gale, but they name them like hurricanes, so they can’t be good. This one is called Hector.

It looked very windy, with tree limbs thrashing about, but no rain, so we set off. Leaving the farm and walking out onto the moor, the wind gusted so ferociously that it almost knocked me over, and we were pelted by icy rain. My hat and glasses flew off, and I’m shouting, “Help! My glasses!”, but the wind tore the words from my lips. Finding my glasses on the ground, Jim about-faced, and we marched back to our cabin.

Jim went back to the farmhouse to ask John’s advice about whether to wait an hour or so in the hope that the severity of the wind might abate, but John counseled him to go now, as it was supposed to get worse later! We put on our pack covers and rain gear, tightened every strap, and set off again. Remember: we are in the middle of nowhere. There is no phone service and no Uber (not a thing here) or taxi we can call. We can’t stay here another day. We have a reservation in Cowgill. We have to walk.

Okay, do you remember the scene from The Wizard of Oz when Almira Gulch is pedaling her bicycle furiously through the twister? Start there. Add the music if you wish. Then add driving wind that knocks you backward at every step. Gusts of rain like needles on your face. Now trudge uphill, directly into the wind! Don’t forget to climb over every stile, holding on for dear life! The big rocks that we clambered happily over yesterday are now slick and treacherous. The dry gullies are now filled with rushing water. The only blessing is that sheep turds are sufficiently heavy that they do not become airborne, because flying sheep dung in the face would just really be the last straw!

Jim’s pack cover went airborne, and he just managed to grab it. After four miles of this torture, we reached the cairn that our guidebook said was the highest elevation of the entire hike. Of course we stopped for a picture!

In the distance, we saw a truck parked on the other side of the next stone wall. As we approached, a young man rolled down the window and asked if we would like a lift. Just like that. Calm as you please.

David is the forestry manager for this part of the Dales, and was sitting there in his truck as it’s the only place in the entire area that has cellphone reception. He was waiting for a client and had a few minutes to spare, so he drove us down a ways, off the ridge, where the wind was less intense and we could resume our trek. Thank you David – Nice People of England!

The inclement weather continued for the rest of the day, with periods of rain, gusts of wind followed by a moment of sunshine as the clouds blew across the sky. Now that we were off the ridge, it was a fine day as far as I was concerned. We walked along the River Dee, and ate our sandwiches sitting on mossy wet rocks.

We passed by a huge aqueduct, built in the 1800s.

There were pretty flowers, refreshed from the rain.

A farmer’s fence proudly displayed a collection of dead rats.

We arrived at the Sportsman Inn. I like their sign – a chain of one!

They had a carved tree in the back garden.

Now we’ve had a bath (showers are not an option here), hung our clothes to dry, and are feeling much better about the day. We ordered Beef Madras for supper, which was just spicy enough to make my nose run, just the way I like it. Now the sun is out (did I mention that it is still light here after 10pm?).

No WiFi here, so this will have to wait before I can post it. Friend Tom, I can hear you laughing and shaking your head. Don’t we just have the best stories?

The Dales Way – Kettlewell to Swarthghyll Farm

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We’re staying in Kettlewell at a little B & B above the Cottage Tea Room, where all the kids lined up to buy an ice cream cone after school. We have a beautiful view of the hillside from our bedroom window.

Once the tea shop closed at 5pm, we had the building to ourselves. Maybe we should go downstairs and have an ice cream? Maybe some cake? Tempting, but we resisted. The owner left us little glasses of sherry and chocolates to tide us over until supper.

We crossed the street to the pub and ordered a Mediterranean Vegetable Wellington. Turns out, a Wellington is anything baked in a puff pastry. Very tasty, although the chips and peas are becoming standard fare.

June 13 – Today we trek 12 miles. While downing our breakfast (full English for Jim, just eggs and veggies for me), our host tells us that today’s walk is the prettiest part of the Dales. We’ve been told this every day so far, and every day it’s been true!

Now, here is something you may not know. Kettlewell was the town used as the set to make the film Calendar Girls, in which a group of old English matrons decide to pose nude in a calendar to raise money. Here is the Kettlewell Garage, where the matrons got the idea after seeing a girlie calendar on the wall.

Would you like to see more sheep? Here’s one doing morning yoga – downward facing sheep position.

Here are some cows who did not want me crossing into their territory.

Lots of buttercups today.

By mid morning, we arrived at the chapel at Hubberholme, which is famous for its mice.

We ventured in, and looked high and low, but no mice did we see. Then Jim spotted one! Do you see it?

Here’s the close-up – tiny mice carved into the front of the pews!

Well, that was our excitement for the day.

We stopped to eat our lunch in front of an old lime kiln. Evidently, you fill the kiln with limestone, set a fire, come back in three days and shovel out your lime. Voila!

After more sheep, more cows, and many more gates and stiles, we came to the cross carved into stone in honor of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee.

This was our landmark to turn onto the road to Swarthghyll Farm.

We walked, then walked some more. Saw pretty flowers.

Walked some more. Where was this farm?

Finally, another sign, but still no farm!

Well, eventually a farmhouse did appear, and we found our walker’s cottage, with a kitchen, bedroom, living room and bath just for us. Our invisible hosts left our supper in the fridge with instructions on how to light the oven. A different kind of adventure!

The Dales Way – Burnsall to Kettlewell

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So now we’ve reached Burnsall, a very small village with no shops or amenities, dominated by the 500 year old Red Lion Hotel, where we are staying.

There is a bridge here.624CF834-4BA6-4A15-86A3-7F34CABDAB91

And a church.9A5415AE-7645-47EE-B860-A56ED59243B6

After a refreshing and much needed shower, we went down to supper in a traditional English pub. Although this is definitely not a food blog, we are trying to experience and share info about traditional English dishes while we are here. If you are already acquainted with these dishes, my apologies.

Jim ordered shepherds pie (lamb, carrots and gravy under a fluffy mashed potato crust) with cabbage on the side.

I opted for the even more traditional haddock and chips, accompanied by a serving of mushy peas. After liberally applying salt, pepper, catsup and brown sauce, we pronounced all the food delicious. Everything you’ve heard about the blandness of English cuisine is, as far as we can tell so far, true.

June 11 – We walked around the tiny village of Burnsall this morning. The buildings are uniformly rectangular and made from the same brown stone, so the residents pour their energy into their front gardens.D4397C15-D1F0-49E2-AD9A-DFEE12A99CC8.jpeg

This morning was our first opportunity to order what is called “the full English” breakfast, which consists of (clockwise) eggs any style, fried mushrooms, black pudding (a sausage that tastes sort of like liverwurst), bacon (we would call it ham), fried tomato, fried toast, sausage and baked beans.  I’ve heard this meal also called “a fry-up”.26AE085B-E7BB-4CFA-B6EF-221630A31934We now understand why defibrillators are available here on every corner!CC00F776-9B9C-4FC9-9AA2-7AE9EF9D2900June 12 – This morning we proceed nine miles to Kettlewell, which our guidebook promises will be a pretty and pleasant walk.

We started by getting our daily dose of sheep and cows.

We crossed the River Wharfe one more time, over a bouncy suspension bridge.

Here’s another tree stump filled with coins. Maybe for good luck?

We left the river, and climbed up into the hills, where there are lots of stone walls. Yes, for every wall, there was a stile to climb over.

We walked through the village of Grassington, which has a little waterfall and an interesting carving.

So, as we were walking along, all the sheep in the field we were traversing started maa-ing and baa-ing. Dozens of sheep. Maybe a hundred sheep. Jim wondered if we upset them somehow. Next they all started running toward us. Oh no! Trampled to death by sheep? What a way to go! Over the horizon we heard the drone of a tractor, and here was the farmer, coming with the morning meal. The sheep ran right past us, continuing to make an unholy racket until the tractor stopped and the first handfuls of grain were thrown. Then blessed silence. Sheep!

The Yorkshire Dales Way – Ilkley to Burnsall

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June 9 – This morning we walked back to Leeds Station to catch the train to Ilkley. Jim got us a discount rail pass for off-peak riders, so all our tickets are 30% off. Once again, we were reminded of the dreaded gap!

Ilkley is a lovely little town, bustling with weekend tourists on a bright Saturday.  We checked in at the Dalesway Hotel, and took a little walk about the town.  It seems to be a canine-friendly place.

We ducked in to All Saints Church, as I knew there was a special stained glass window there, dedicated to handbell ringers, in memory of Jasper Snowden, killed in WWI, and his family. Grandfather John Snowden was the vicar here, and both his son and grandson were avid change ringers and writers of handbell music.

There were also some eighth century stone pillars:

I particularly liked the embroidered kneelers at every pew. No two alike!

Quaint country buildings that look like they could be in Germany or Austria:

And lots of flowers in bloom!

As we are officially in Yorkshire, Jim opted to have Yorkshire pudding for supper. This is nothing like pudding as we know it, but is a baked bread-like shell, filled with roast beef, potatoes, peas, carrots and gravy. The pudding refers to the shell, not the contents. We didn’t think to bring a camera to supper, so here is an image from Google to give you an idea. Jim’s was much prettier, and huge. The barman was very impressed that Jim was able to finish it.

June 10 – This morning we started our Dales Way hike. It is Sunday, and our hotel offered breakfast at 9am, but we opted for coffee and oatmeal in our room and an early start. We were on the trail at 7:30, with 14 miles ahead of us.

Here is the map provided at the starting point. Do you see Ilkley all the way to the south?

The weather was foggy and a bit chilly in the morning. Today’s route follows the River Wharfe all day. It didn’t take long for us to run into some sheep.

We crossed one farmer’s field after another, pausing at each boundary to open and close a gate or climb over a stile. A stile is a simple ladder that allows people over, but confounds the sheep. By the twelfth stile, they confounded me too – my first leg went over easily, but convincing my back leg to join it became harder each time!

Unlike the US, where property is private and “trespassers will be shot”, England and most other countries have what is called the right to roam. Don’t litter, don’t disturb the livestock, and please close the gate behind you. What a wonderful philosophy!

We walked past some cottages that had originally been a mill built in 1787. Wouldn’t you love to live in Cobweb Cottage?

In an hour, we came upon a Friends Meeting House built in 1689. Inside, there were transparent silhouettes to remind us to honor the soldiers who died in the Great War.

By mid morning we reached Bolton Abbey, with the ruins of a priory attached to a working church. A sign said people have been worshipping here for 850 years.

My mom instructed me to take pictures of castles. As Windsor and Buckingham are not on our itinerary, here is a building in the Abbey and a bridge that look sort of like castles!

Bolton Abbey is part of a large park that we walked through for the rest of the day. Lots of families enjoying the River Wharfe, either fishing or wading. Here’s a place where you can opt to cross by jumping on stepping stones or going over a bridge. Which do you think we chose?

There’s a fallen tree into which hundreds of coins have been hammered. Couldn’t tell you why.

As we left the walk to get some lunch, we were surprised to find we had been walking through the Valley of Desolation. We thought it quite cheerful.

We encountered a full complement of fauna as we tromped through the fields on what turned out to be a warm and sunny afternoon, with the River Wharfe always at our side.A wonderful first day!

Oviedo to Madrid to Chicago to Norfolk VA

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July 2 – Had to get up early this morning to catch our train.  Our hotel graciously set out our breakfast buffet a half hour early, so we wouldn’t have to travel without our daily caffeine and jamon allotment.  We booked our train ticket to Madrid about five days ago, and were surprised to find all the second class tickets sold out, so we are riding first class in reserved seats.  This turns out to be the same as a second class seat, except you are offered a free Spanish newspaper and charged twice the price!  Four hours of high speed rail later, we are in Madrid.

To simplify our lives, Jim booked us in at a very nice hotel right at the train station, so we can easily catch the train to the airport in the morning.  We did a final day’s worth of laundry, watched some strange but English language tv, and repacked our packs to go on the airplane, stowing our hiking sticks and everything that was in the outer pockets.  We had purchased some fragile souvenirs, which I will hand carry, rather than entrust to the baggage handlers.  We are ready to go home.

July 3 – Walked back to the train station, and waited on a 20 minute line to purchase a ticket for the 10 minute ride to the airport.  The very nice man at check in informed us that he could only see one flight for us in his computer, from Madrid to Chicago, and that we would have to go to American Airlines in Chicago to print our second boarding pass for our flight to Norfolk.  Oh well.  Air travel!

We were amazed and amused to encounter a singing trans stewardess belting out “I’ve Gotta Be Me” in a husky baritone in the duty-free shop.  We slugged the free Jagermeister shot offered, and applauded enthusiastically.

Then we were up and away for our nine hour flight back to the USA.  Adios, Spain, we’ll miss you!

After getting through Customs and retrieving our bags, we tried to collect our boarding passes for Norfolk.  The not-a-people-person service rep informed us, quite harshly, that we had no reservation, and weren’t going anywhere.  Jim produced the paper booking confirmation he had been toting around for three months, and she told us that American no longer had that flight, and so had canceled our reservation.  Hadn’t they informed us?  Well no, they hadn’t, but as they also hadn’t refunded our fares, I thought we were in a pretty good position to insist that it was incumbent on American Airlines to get us home.  Seeing that we weren’t going to go away, the rep eventually relented and put us on the next flight.  Peter came and picked us up, and we were home by 11pm eastern, which was 5am the next day as far as our bodies were concerned.  A little sleep is all we need.  Until next time!

Bandeira to Lestado to Santiago de Compostela

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June 18 – Today is going to be the hottest day of the unusual heat wave that we’ve been walking in all week – supposed to be 95 degrees by noon, so we decided to get an early start again and try not to fry our brains.  (The high temperature is usually in the 70s here, and these pleasant temps will return next week.) 13 miles today to Lestado.  On the road at 6am, just so I can share the sunrise with you:

Got to say good morning to a horse, and do some shady woods walking.


At the top of our climb, got to see the mist settling in the valley, looking surreal.

We had a reverse mountain climb today – a steep downhill to Ponte Ulla, then back up the other side:

The Rio Ulla:

We are staying tonight in a Casa Rural that is a mile from the nearest restaurant, so the Señora cooked us Sunday dinner, and invited us to swim in the pool!  So nice.  A little St. James in the garden.

This is the penultimate day of our hike, so we’re engaging in a lot of reflection on the very excellent time we’ve had.  Great weather, wonderful food, the ability to customize our stages, usually having private accommodations.  Breathtaking views, interesting cities.  Eight miles to go.

June 19 – Our Señora made us a breakfast that couldn’t be beat, then sent us on our way.  The heat wave hasn’t broken, so today is supposed to be the hottest day of the week.  Luckily we are not far from our goal.  The morning sun.

The sleepy town.

Feeling a bit Van Gogh-ish.

There’s the city on the hill.

Here we go!


Not long now!

A little more woods, 

A steep climb along the busy highway, 

Then we are in the city!  See the towers of the Cathedral?

We waited on line for an hour (not a long wait from what we’ve heard) at the Pilgrim office to get our official Compostela, signifying that we have completed 1007 kilometers from Sevilla to Santiago.

A volunteer outside the Pilgrim office took our picture to commemorate our success.

We are here!  Zero miles to go.  Stay tuned for our tour of the city.

Castro Dozón to Lalín to Bandeira

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June 16 – Well, even when you have your own room, an albergue is still an albergue.  The troops started getting up at 5am, slamming doors, whistling, and generally depriving the rest of us of our forty winks.  Eleven miles planned for today, and it is supposed to get up to ninety degrees, so just as well that we got an early start.  The nice thing about Spanish weather is that the high temperature of the day doesn’t occur until 6pm, by which time we have been indoors for several hours.

Misty morning:

You know how you can edit a photo to remove ‘red eye’?  I would love somebody to invent the feature that gets rid of ‘power line’. Just touch a button and all the power lines would disappear from your scenic shots.  Google!  Apple!  Do you hear me?  Please start working on this right away!

Ha!  Look in the lower left at what this farmer is using for a scarecrow:


We walked along the highway for a while.

Said good morning to St. James in a pretty garden.

Walked in the shady woods and saw a mole (I think!)

Appreciated the mountain views:

Stayed at a hostal with no air con, but the best meal ever.  Our waitress spoke the clearest Spanish we’ve heard in months – so easy to understand!  Turns out she’s from South America.  I’m sure going to miss this Camiño.  33 miles to go.

June 17 – We did a lot of tossing and turning in the night – with the window open, the highway was noisy, and with the window closed, it was just too hot.  Finally gave it up and got dressed at 5:30, and we were on the road by 6am.  Twelve miles today, and it’s supposed to be hotter than yesterday, so it’s good that we got an early start.  Pretty sunrise.

We knew there was a café on the road, but it was too early for it to be open.  Surprise!  The door was ajar, and the Señora made us cafe con leche at 6:30.  Now we can do some walking!  Passed under the highway and into the woods.

Here’s an old bridge over a quiet river.

Another Santiago in a churchyard along the road.

Then back to the woods again.  It’s nice and cool in the shade.

A bit of rock hopping down a stream:

Some pretty flowers:

Then by noon, we were in town.  I laughed to see this sign advertising bacon and eggs for breakfast – we’ve had nothing but toast for months!Found the Dia before it closed to get provisions.  No air con again, but our room is not facing the street, so we should be able to open the windows this evening.  21 miles to go.

Ourense to San Cristovo de Cea to Dozón

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June 14 – Fifteen miles today will get us to Cea, which should be the longest day of our last hiking week.  The morning was cool, overcast and so foggy that I couldn’t see ten feet ahead of me.  After getting out of Ourense, the trail went straight uphill for a long kick-butt climb, partly on pavement and partly on dirt paths.  

Jim found an interesting spider’s web.

The fog burned off by 10am, and the day started to heat up.  It’s supposed to get up into the 90s by late afternoon, so we want to be inside by then.  We stopped to rest under some eucalyptus trees.

There were several little towns where we could stop for coffee, and we took advantage of each one.  The locals had some interesting ways of welcoming pilgrims that made us smile.

Note to self:  do not even think of painting your house this color!

We crossed an old stone bridge that led into an abandoned town.  I wonder why the people left?
Pretty little flowers.56 miles to go.

June 15 – Spent a restful night at our Casa Rural, which included breakfast.  I always appreciate a morning when I can have a second cup of coffee!  Twelve miles today, on another cool, clear morning.  Leaving Cea:

The windmills on the hill looked surreal in the morning mist.


Beautiful garden flowers:

Then it was time to leave the road and do some huffing and puffing uphill.  The woodland views were worth it, and it was so cool I considered putting my jacket on.

Back to the highway for a while.

Then up some more.

The views from the top make the climb worthwhile.

Said hello to some cows.

Then down, down and into town.

I had been silently dreading tonight’s stay in the last albergue of our trip.  We had to walk past the town to find it.  Imagine my surprise to find two young girls waiting there to welcome us in and ask if we’d like the dormitory or a private room.  A room?  Yes, please!  The building used to be a school, with big sunny windows, an industrial tiled kitchen, and even a playground out back (used as a laundry hanger by the pilgrims)!   There were separate toilets by gender, and the open gang showers that you remember hating in middle school.  And there was wifi!  This was the bomb-diddly of albergues.  Thank you, Dozón!

44 miles to go.