Yorkshire Dales: Worsthone to Horton-in-ribblesdale

Day 12
Distance- 74km (521)
Weather- sunshine
Highlights- Yorkhire dales
Lowlights- the 5 miles up hill in drizzle to the campsite
Accommodation- Horton-in-ribblesdale campite, paddock with toilets

A night interrupted by Saturday night partying and semi trailers but still felt refreshed in the morning. We set off into Burnley to seek out a bike shop, do some shopping and finally phone home. Peter got his cleats fixed, Sarah the gear cable and Bridgette sat a round.

We set off along the canal tow-paths to get out of Burnley. The area was quite industrial, snaking its way through factories and run down buildings. It wasn't until Foulridge that we felt back in the country. Here we had a break and enjoyed a couple of calypso ice poles while watching the barges use the locks.

We then headed through Gargrave and up into the Yorkshire dales in behind Settle. A steep climb was rewarded with broad views of a plateau moor land. We sailed through this high plateau steadily climbing as the sky begun to darken. It was eerily quite so much so that the sound of our own tyres sounded like an approaching car. Several tourists past us in the cars and smiled as we puffed and pant up, up and up. But for every up there is a down, and it was glorious.

We wound our way through the Yorkshire dales down into Settle with tall green hills, dry stone walls and craggy outcrops surrounding us. Then we entered the narrow cobbled streets of Settle where we headed up the valley out of town for the last 7 miles to our camp site. We were momentarily distracted by a more expensive but closer campsite but decided to plug on since our camp was 2 pounds even if it was up the top of a hill. We were surprised to see we weren't the only ones to know this little camp, 50 other tents dotted the paddock, walkers, climbers, motor bike tourists. We were greeted by the caretaker, a round gentleman, sitting in a fold out chair in a visibility vest drinking whisky. The facilities were basic, showers average, but the place had a real buz. Lots of walkers around sharing their woes of blisters, sore joints and heavy packs. Pete befriended the BMW motorbike boys who were strangely intrigued trailers. Only two showers, so a little line up. BJ and Peter headed to the local pub for a pint, a lively place.