The morning views from my campsite were definitely worth waking for. Just as I finished packing up my tent I was overtaken by a father and daughter doing the Pennine way. They were, almost inevitably, Americans,from Massachusetts. They were moving faster than me but I rejoined them when they circumnavigated a large herd of cattle who I promptly went straight through the middle of.
They definitely weren’t sure about my wisdom in doing that and they were soon moving on.
The Pennine way rolled on over moorland until we met the forest. Here the path was diverted as storm Arwen had bought down thousands of trees . I had a look at the map and as I wasn’t walking the Pennine way as such I decided I could see a shorter way.
I stopped for some elevenses and then trudged down the various tracks I had selected. I met the Americans again as they completed their diversion having walked about a mile and a half more than me.
They left me for the last time and set off across more undulating ground.
Meanwhile my good deed of handing over some me water the day before was leaving me a bit on the short side. Inevitably the day was warming and as always happens when I run low on water it was making me more thirsty and tired. I had enough for the day but only just, so I was looking for a top up.
The path did not pass through any settlements so I was looking for a farmhouse, water trough or stream.
As luck would have it the next farm was the home to the “pit stop”. This was a honesty box based shop, coffee stop and even a bed.
But star of the show was a hammock which I had a pleasant rest in whilst I drank coffee and ate a couple of bananas.
Fully recharged I set off towards Bellingham , pausing to take in the view from the delightfully named Shitlington crags. Then a long descent into Bellingham and a good nights sleep.