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North Pennines
This was my first proper, fully rigged up, bike packing adventure. Leaving from Durham I travelled across the spine of the North Pennines twice, along a large part of the course of Hadrian's Wall and eventually followed the River Derwant into Newcastle. Epic ride! Epic scenery! Epic Adventure!
Day 1 (63 miles) Durham, Waskerley, Stanhope, Weardale, Cauldron Snout, High Cup, Dufton and Great Dun Fell
After the first lockdown had been lifted I was able to help my son Archie move into his new university digs in Durham where he would be living for his final year of his degree. I had planned to tag on a few days cycling whilst up north, which become a 3 day bikepacking adventure to a new area for me, the North Pennines, edging Weardale and the Eden Valley initially. So with the bike packed up and breakfast packed in, off I went. It was a good opportunity to visit Durham center, cycling up through the old town to the Cathedral and leaving via South Baily over the Prebends bridge.
Arch told me about a good view across of the Cathedral at Ustinov College which was my last sight of Durham for three days.
I headed west on the Lanchester Valley Railway Path, one of many disused railways in the region converted for walkers and cyclists to use, traffic free, safe and a great way to sink comfortably into the countryside. I left the railway path at Langley Park and hit the first climb of the trip up to Quebec. Then quiet roads, bordered by stone ways a fragrant summer flowers. The scenery starting to change from farmland to moorland when reaching the Waskerley Way.
The Waskerley Way forms part of the Coast to Coast route, another disused railway across the top of the moors above Stanhope. I stopped at the cafe at Park Head for a well needed coffee. Chatting to the many locals on bikes, some out for their lunchtime cycle to get away from their home offices (the new "work normal" for many of us). They assumed I was doing the C2C but when I explained my plans they were quite impressed and said the route ahead would be very tough but magnificent and worth the effort.
From Park Head there was an exhilarating 2 mile downhill into Stanhope. I was surprised and relieved the bike handled unaffected by the weight it was carrying, picking up over 30 mph downhill and thankfully the breaks worked.
Passing the signs to Barnard Castle, which most of us had never heard of until Mr Cummings decided to strain his eyes, I reached Stanhope town. A busy market town, today made more flamboyant with both a wedding party and a funeral wake in progress! A weird mix of the colourful and the sombre but all chatting and laughing about memories made and memories about to be made.
After refuelling and getting provisions for dinner and breakfast it was time to move on. Leaving Stanhope I cycled along the quiet roads of Weardale that dutifully followed the River Wear until reaching St John's Chapel. Here a sharp left turn away from the river meant heading south up a wall of a road with Noon Hill and Chapel Fell either side. This was a real challenge on an 11 gear mountain bike fully loaded with bikepacking gear. Very pleased to say I got up without putting a foot down :-)
A well deserved breather at the top near an amazing quarry, the descent through Langdon Common to Langdon Beck was wild and wonderful.
The Pennines loamed menacingly in the distance and the weather seemed to be on the change. Dark clouds gathering in the distance over Great Dun Fell, where I would eventually be 12 hours later setting up camp for the night. The road from Langdon Beck led to the Cow Green Reservoir with a northerly wind picking up it was exposed and felt more like a late autumn day than the middle of July.
At the dam end of the reservoir is the stunning Cauldron Snout waterfall. Some say the longest waterfall in the UK at 180m long, and 10th highest at 60m tall. It is fed all year around by Cow Green and the thing that strikes you is how the peace and quiet is broken as you step over the nearby rocks and see the falls for the first time. It's a breath taking place which can be viewed from all angles in a natural amphitheatre.
After indulging my senses on the waterfall I tracked the Pennine Way following Maize Beck on the bridleway on the maps shown on the Murton Herds side of the stream. This took about an hour travelling through a vast open valley. Quite challenging to navigate with the bike as there was plenty of bog to negotiate. There was more about pushing than riding but the solitude of the place made the whole experience soporific. Not often in life you find such peace.
Then after so long of not seeing another living thing, other than birds of prey up high and various bitey-scratchy things paying too much interest in me, I had company. Cumbrian wild fell ponies! These handsome, inquisitive and boisterous creatures were letting me know this was their land. I have since heard the area only gets around 6,000 visitors each year, a real wilderness compared to its cousin the Lake District 25 miles to the west. Maybe the fell ponies are excited to see visitors and that's why they run around you in equal amounts of excitement and threat. I expect they are used to seeing backpackers walking the Pennine Way but their interest in me and my laden down bike was quite intense.
After my concentration had been absorbed by the fell ponies, there as if I was seeing a mirage, appeared the highlight of the day, trip and quite possibly the year's adventures. High Cup Nick and Gill, also known as Britain's Grand Canyon. Described as "A deep chasm on the Pennine fellside, this famous nick, a dramatic geological formation at the top of High Cup Gill is part of the well-known Whin Sill, and overlook the best glaciated valley in Northern England". It is a special place that words and photographs can't do justice. I loved it hear and spent a couple of hours exploring and sitting, watching and listening. Such a privilege to be in such a place and to arrive here, however challenging, by bike. Here are some of my favourite pictures that attempt to capture the beauty and awe of High Cup. Click here for more information about the geology and rock formations, some of which like "Nichol Chair" I captured whilst visiting.
Coming down off of High Cup was just as exhilarating. Views across the Eden Valley over to the Lakes, cycling down rugged paths, through rocky dells, through streams and remote farmland. The descent was rapid and filled my mind with myths and legends about the folk who have lived here. This was 40 minutes that felt like I was flying though a mountain range and then a slow gradual landing with the wheels touching down in the village of Dufton.
It was now about 7pm and The Stag Inn was a welcome sight. I had booked to stay in the village campsite but when I saw the small tent pitch area trussed up against the touring caravans, and having just come from the wilderness and beauty of the hills I just could not bring myself to deal with people. So, refuelled after two pints of Pennine ale and fish n chips I set off on what was going to be the first leg of day 2 of my trip. This meant cycling quiet roads until reaching Knock and then, bang, a massive long climb passing Knock Pike, Knock Fell and into the mists where Great Dun Fell hid its head.
Since returning home and dipping into the hill climbing cyclist bible "Another 100 climbs" that I realised what I had achieved. The book states that Great Dun Fell is the greatest climb in England’ “Our Mont Ventoux’ it has no peers, there is no comparison.” The stats of this beast are; length 4.5 miles, vertical ascent 632 m, average gradient 9%, max gradient 20%, height at top 2,900 ft / 835 metres, category 2 climb!
To think I did this as an after thought following riding all day and on two pints and dinner! Just goes to prove that sometimes the not seeing the top of your destination, a beery head and a good splash of ignorance can indeed be bliss (well to me at least).
I found myself at the top of the climb, in the fog and fading light and the time way close to 9pm. It was so misty I almost road into the Pennine Way sign that I was trying to find. I could see one arrow with "Alston" written on it and beyond it a grey nothingness. I wanted to get below the cloud line the other side of the fell and it was becoming a race against time to find somewhere to pitch. I spent another good hour with GPS, Garmin and ViewRanger maps navigating the bike on the bridleway east. There was no obvious path although it did roughly follow a stream called Trout Beck.
At times the stream had washed large parts of the path away which meant trudging through bog or in and out of the stream. At one point I was a very lucky lad when I slipped backwards when lost my balance walking the bike along the bank. I rolled over on the side of the bank and tumbled into the stream, somehow staying on my feet and landing upright in a shallow section. Then bike above me, slightly delayed decided to give into gravity and fell 180 degrees with me there ready to catch it. Rider and bike not damaged but the experience did slow me down and gave me a reality check. It removed my growing sense of panic with bizarrely made calm and focused accepting I had all I needed to be warn and comfortable in the mist on the moors.
Rain was staring to fall and I figured I had about 15 minutes left of daylight. I promised myself to keep going until I found flat ground, away from the stream and would pitch up there. The area around me on the map shows old open mines and slack heaps, one of which I cam across sheltered me from the worst of the now rising westerly wind. I pitched up, brewed up and had dinner. It was now pitch dark and I was snug in my shell for the night. Since looking on maps and where I "probably" was I now realise this was the furthest from any other person or any civilisation that I have spent a night.
Day 2 (62 miles) Pennine Way, Source Tyne Head, Garrigill, Alston, Slaggyford, Haltwhistle, Hadrian's Wall, Hexham, and Corbridge
So I admit, due to giving myself the heebie-jeebies about a wild cat taking me in the night and my bladder being tempted by the trickling stream I got little to no sleep. I was up at first light around 4:30am and packed up an underway by 5am. Even so I still have fond memories of the my night on the moors.
What followed was again a memory I will take to the grave. Another couple of hours of scrambling on the poorly marked bridleway much like the night before. Trout Beck was now a teenager, having become a small river running over amazing rocky ledges. At times it was possible to cycle and race the dippers along the beck who were busy catching breakfast. I was now clearing the cloud layer and the vastness of the scenery around me was slowing showing itself.
At a small bridge where Trout Beck joined with his kid sisters Moss Burn and Rough Syke, I joined a track which looked like it lead to a forest lodge in the distance (shown as Moor House on the map). The river was now very wide and forming waterfalls, happily gurgling away. On the maps I could see a few miles south east the top end of Cow Green Reservoir, so I was back level with where I was yesterday at Cauldron Snout.
Then seemingly out of place, as if some aliens had placed it there, a huge standing stone and plaque. This was to signify the source of the River Tyne at Tynehead Fell. This caught me imagination! I was now half a day ahead of where I had planned to be having decide not to camp at Dufton. Rather than cycle back to Durham, I wondered if I could make it to Newcastle and finish under the Tyne Bridge? We would have to see how things panned out as that was a very, very long way from the source of the Tyne!
I was now following the River Tyne trail to Cross Gill and then quite roads to Alston. This was another yummy moment. It was all downhill. Freewheeling with no-one else around, on a quiet road with scenery changing slowly from moorland to fields of crops. Around me pairs of curlew calling and competing for air space with flocks of lapwings, hares darting across the fields and numerous other feather friends all seeming to cheer me on. Another perfect moment that lives in the memory.
On reaching Alston it was around 9am now. Shame as I had been told about some nice pubs here but I was way too early for them and I had keep moving. I did sit in the market square drying out gear from the night's showers and brewed up coffee and porridge. The locals seemed non-plused at the sight, I expect they see a lot of nutters in this part of the world.
After the pit stop and refuel I picked up the South Tynedale Railway for the next 15+ miles up to Haltwistle. The first few section followed a working stream railway and eventually gives way to an out and out walking and cycling path. Notable places along the route included Slaggyford station (just because I like the name) and the Lambley Viaduct. I arrived into Haltwistle in time for a lunch and a heavy rain shower.
Funny business these long days cycling, I have found that I develop cravings for certain food. As the miles pass the cravings get greater and whilst I should be thinking about navigating and soaking in the surroundings, my stomach takes over my mind and I start to hallucinate food. This was the case cycling the long stretches of the South Tynedale Railway track, with an immense impulse for a home made cheese and pickle sarnie!!!
By the time the town of Haltwistle arrived my need for cheese was at fever pitch. I hunted for a shop, a Co-Op or a Tesco, a LIDL, anything, just "GIVE ME CHEESE". Then, like an oasis in the desert there appeared the local sandwich shop... but, there was a queue... argghhh! After waiting patiently it was my turn. I rolled up my sleeves, put my face mask on and walked in. Alas, no cheese and pickle on the menu!!! Even through the face mask my look of disappointment must have come across loud and clear because the nice lady serving me if I was ok. I explained away and she rummaged around in the fridge and pulled out, what quite frankly was the best Tupperware box of grated cheese I have ever seen in my life.
10 mins later, sitting the main gardens of the town I had devoured the prize, happy in head and tummy. Then I look around and thought, this is strange, why are there no other people in the gardens? It was lunch time after all and plenty of people wondering around, this was the perfect place to sit and eat. It was only when I turned around the looked behind me I realised I was in the local hospital's gardens and had a ward of patients as an audience for my lunch... how embarrassing!!! I didn't get to take a photo of the gardens, so this picture was nicked from Google on a sunny day in the town... easy mistake to make when your hungry!
After waving my new bedbound friends goodbye, it was time to hit the wall. Hadrian's Wall that is!
From Halthwistle I took a really nice road and track following Haltwistle Burn then risked life and limb on a short section of the B6318, which is a B-road with motorway speeds! Then up to Milecastle 42 at Burnhead. I had a flash back stopping here with the family when the children were very little on our way to a holiday in Northumberland. It was a grey and damp day back then and as if the weather had remembered me, it decided to greet me enthusiastically with heavy, cold, stingy rain.
To avoid the Motor-B-way I cycled north and then east on quite single track roads that most would have no need to venture on as they mainly lead to farmsteads and the odd Buddhist retreat. With the natural defence of Winshield Crags and Peel Crags always in sight, the Wall could be seen at the top of the crags like a roller coaster pod riding the humps. Even today it was clear to see why them clever Romans decided to separate the civilised world from the savage hoards with the help of the local geography.
As I was in the area I really wanted to visit the Sycamore Gap but as you can't cycle the wall itself, I found a bridleway adjacent on the map at Peatrigg. This proved a fine choice with an unbroken view to the famous tree without the modern day tourist hoards. I found a nice rock to sit on, opened a local beer I got back in Haltwistle and sat for an hour watching the waves of rain showers and tourists come and go.
It was now about 3pm and the wind was starting whip up from west blowing the rain clouds away. My route then followed quiet roads mostly in an easterly direction. This meant I was "supa-charged-man" as they say up here, and the miles flicked by. This was great fun and easy cycling, apart from when a massive hill, like the one at Vindoladar Roman Fort in Chesterholm, decided to slow me down. I followed the cycle route shown on the maps through Grindon Hill, Fourstones and then peeled off to Bridge End and into Hexham via the Tyne Green Country Park. After a quick stop in Hexham I kept going crossing back over to the other Bridge End (confusing eh) and followed the cycle route into Corbridge, which was a much nicer town.
I had worked up a thirst again and it was about 6pm now so stopped at a lovely eccentric pub called The Pele. Quote from Wikipedia "it was a three-storey defensive pele tower, with one room to each storey, built in the churchyard in 1318, and used as the vicarage for the adjacent church. It is built largely from sandstone taken from the Roman fortress at Coria nearby. It was in use as a vicarage until the early 17th century. In the summer of 2016 the tower was re-opened as a wedding and events venue after a three-year redevelopment."... although I can guarantee it is now a pub serving up a different kind of religion!
I was now way ahead of myself and the thoughts I had earlier in the day at the source of the Tyne about finishing the ride under the Tyne Bridge were starting to take shape. Originally I had planned to cycle back to Durham but with some rejigging of the route I could see a way to get onto more disused railways and cycle routes that would take me straight into Newcastle. I had time to find somewhere to spend the night so left Corbridge behind reflecting on another eventful day in the saddle.
Day 3 (35 miles) Derwant Reservoir, Shotley Bridge (Consett), Dewant Walk, Rowland's Gill, Glaydon and Newcastle
A good nights sleep! This time of year it is light around 4:30am so I was up, breakfasted, packed and moving by 6:30am. However I was a little shocked by the signage I passed a few hundred yards from my bed for the night "Rifles in use" ?!
My original plan was to go over Blanchland Moor via Saley Forest but with the reroute for Toon Town possible, I took a byway through the grounds of Saley Hall and picked up a bridleway straight down to Derwant Reservoir at the wonderfully named "Hairy Side".
The sun was coming out now and it was set to be fair all day. The brightness and blue skies made the yellows and pinks of the fields and wild flowers jump off the page. I spent an hour at the reservoir, had a brew and watched the birdlife, who like me, were soaking up the vitamin D.
After leaving the vastness of Derwant behind I took quite roads into Shotley Bridge near Consett and picked up the Derwant Walk disused railway track. I hadn't realised this route dropped 1,500 ft over its 11 miles with the gradient in my favour. So it was easy and gentle riding all the way to the outskirts of Gateshead. Tree lined wish glimpses of the Derwant Valley, it was quite the shock emerging into the busy town of Rowlands Gill where the Dewant Walk signs stopped. After a bit of navigational masterly I re-joined and the path which soon joined The Derwant Walk Country park. The park was pretty and full of people out cycling, families walking and dogs charging. No doubt a very popular spot for the good folk of Newcastle and around to head to and weird for me to be surrounded by so many people suddenly.
Abruptly the park ended and as if someone turned the world on its head I emerged into Balydon and got my first glimpse of the River Tyne where the River Derwant joins at Derwanthaugh Marina. Choices choices now! Either take the south side cycle path of the Tyne into Newcastle or across the river on the A695 bridge and cycle the north side. I had walked the south side with Arch last year when we stayed in town for a few days, so the north side it was. After a strange industrial estate route after a mile or so I re-joining the river path at Paradise (very apt), where the cycle lanes went straight into toon along the Tyne's edge. The sun was out showing off the city's iconic bridges, Sage Center and Baltic buildings. What a great place this is.
After a bit of lunch at the The Cycle Hub on Quayside, with fine views looking west back up the Tyne, I jumped the train from Newcastle to Durham and was back with Arch by 2:30pm. We had time to have a wonder around Durham on foot, catching up on how his new digs were going and to reflect on my Pennine bikepacking adventure.
Big thanks to County Durham and Northumberland for making your area so cycle friendly. It is an awesome place to be on two wheels, not just the in the countryside joining routes together, thoughtfully and safely, but also in the towns and cities. I never felt threatened by cars and equally you provided ample room to safely share routes with walkers and other users. I just wish you could teach the New Forest Verderers and New Forest National Park a thing or two and get them to do the right thing in safely joining up the so called 200 miles of cycle paths in the New Forest. They must do something to put safely first and not put young families and unsuspecting cyclists onto major, fast roads creating conflict between some drivers towards cyclists. It is only a matter of time before a young family is lost to poor route management in my local National Park. Anyway, the North East you get the gold medal in my book.. Why Aye Man!
For the anoraks....
Total miles cycles = 160
Total feet climbed = 11,980
Route map :
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