This moor road winds it’s lonely way across the silent fells to Littondale. Although not terribly long – it is only a few miles – it passes through some of the most beautiful and wild countryside in the Dales. It winds like a snake twisting and turning as it goes…never still for a moment – it follows the contours of the land. It knows where it is going.
On it’s way it passes the hill of Pen-y-ghent (in the distance) – a landmark at 2,277 ft. I have an affinity with the Pen-y-ghent (it means ‘Hill of Winds’ in the ancient Cumbric language). I have caved under it, climbed it, foolishly sledged down it once…and laid to rest a loved one on it’s summit. There is rumoured to be a Viking Princess buried on the top. She’ll be in good company.