Ingleborough

The unseasonable warmth of March has tempted us to get out and about, despite - or maybe because of - the run of bad health that Tony has suffered over the winter. It has re-energised us and made us want to get out there and reclaim our lives, nature's way of encouraging us I suppose.

As part of his rehabilitation, Tony has been upping his step-count and taking longer walks, at first with me and then alone as his confidence has grown.

Last week we walked up Pendle Hill together and he has managed one way walks to Whalley and then Barley alone, his endpoint being a pub where he would wait for me to come and collect him.

His resilience has been astonishing and I am so proud of him, so I was not surprised when he announced that he wanted to climb Ingleborough, one of the highest peaks in Yorkshire and a 17km round loop.

A few days later, taking advantage of a summery break in the weather, we set off from Clapham, crossing the river to follow the signpost leading up past the Old The Sawmill Cafe, and right, onto a trail leading steadily uphill.

After about a mile, we passed through a farmyard and followed a hand-written sign leading down to the entrance to Ingleborough Caves, where a sign invited us to venture in the footsteps of past explorers 500m below, an adventure we will save for another day.

Turning left instead, we climbed again, entering Trow Gill gorge and scrambling skywards over boulders heading for the narrow sliver of blue high above us.

Once at the top, we followed the path alongside the wall until the moors opened out in front of us and we came to a double stile which we crossed.

With clear sight of Ingleborough and Little Ingleborough ahead, we followed a vague path, right, looking for signs of Gaping Gill.

Within a few minutes we spotted a depression in the ground, and then, a moment later, the fencing, a very necessary human addition to the landscape whose purpose quickly becomes clear.

Rough steps lead steeply down to the stream and it's adjacent giant stone slabs, which I imagine would be treacherous on a wet day, to reveal the famous pothole which is Gaping Gill.

A quick peer into the vast blackness from a very safe distance was all we dared, before retracing our steps to cross the stream and rejoin the path towards the peaks.

Now the climb began, with rough hewn steps rising ahead to Little Ingleborough, and we took regular pauses to turn and admire the landscape and catch our breath (Pendle Hill was clearly visible in the distance).

From the cairn at the top, we turned right to cross the plateau, before climbing again to the trig point of Ingleborough.

We did it!

From here we were treated to spectacular views of the Dales and Ribblehead Viaduct and the other two major peaks, Whernside and Pen y Ghent. North and west we could also see as far as the Lake District and MorecambeBay. Some people claim to get a glimpse of Snowdonia and even Snaefell on a clear day, but the spring haze today meant that they eluded us.

After enjoying a windy wander around the plateau - allegedly home to an ancient iron age fort once-upon-a-time - we followed a vague ridge path heading east to find the path down.

The initial descent was a lot more difficult that the way up, boulders littering the edge of the plateau and no clear route at first; tricky for anyone to pick their way through but very difficult for somebody who is partially sighted. However, we eventually made our way onto a clearer path, without mishap, and followed the right fork at the foot of the scree to join the Dales Way.

Now the path was easier to navigate, heading east for a while before turning south at a crossroads with a signpost back to Clapham.

From here it is a 3 mile walk across heathland and through the famous Norber boulders until we see the valley back down to the caves and Clapham.

Passing through a couple of gates, we eventually reached Long Lane (which felt very long after walking for over 5 hours). At a T-junction, we turned right and passed through two stone tunnels to arrive back in Clapham where there is a lovely walkers pub at the entrance to the carpark, the Old Mill.

With an ever-burning log fire and a good selection of drinks, it was a great place to take a seat and reflect on our walk up one of Yorkshire's three highest peaks.

Not bad for an old girl with dodgy knees and a very brave man who is only 4 months post stroke and partially sighted.