On our second Yorkshire visit, in 1997, we learned about Addlebrough, a sort of moorland mesa. But we could only walk around it as it is on private property. Then we discovered that there is a permissive path up it. That's not an official public footpath, but one that folks are allowed to use as long as they behave themselves. How could we resist climbing such a beauty? |
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So we've tried it twice. Once we never found the path. The second time we found a way up, but not the other way down, so we had to just turn around. This time, we got a map and directions from the supply at East House. So armed, we drove to Thornton Rust and our challenge.
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A genuine gypsy encampment on the way from Hawes to Bainbridge. The horses were grazing in the verge. |
We parked in Thornton Rust and started along a bridle path. Then headed off towards Addlebrough.
 Nancy, the first time we got slightly misplaced. Sometimes it's not easy to figure whether you've crossed one field or two - then have to go diagonally across the next. But we recovered. |
 That's a jet fighter screaming down Wensleydale. This time we're looking up. Later, they were below us! |
It's a gradual climb from Thornton Rust to here, where it becomes rather marshy. This is why we have leather hiking boots. |
From there, it's sort of straight up to the top. The sheep laughed at our scrambling. But. man, it's worth it for the views. And it's just a tad windy? |
 Looking across to Wetherfell. |
 And down at Askrigg. |
We should have taken photos of those stupid cairns that were supposed to show us how to get back down. The directions talk about "the two cairns". Well, there are three. You have to ignore one or get worse lost than we did. We ended up figuring where Askrigg is and heading sort of that way. It worked.
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And down we went. That's the easy part behind Chuck. Next, it's so steep that you're really sitting more than walking - while standing up. |
And back into Thornton Rust. And some new friends.
 Henry and James. Real gentlemen. |
 Nancy and another friendly Yorkshire cat. |
And, just because we deserved it, into Askrigg for a stop at the Crown and a swift half each. |
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