{"id":1516,"date":"2018-04-28T00:01:02","date_gmt":"2018-04-27T14:01:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/julesforth.com\/walkingtheblackdog\/?p=1516"},"modified":"2018-04-28T18:09:49","modified_gmt":"2018-04-28T08:09:49","slug":"day-51","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/julesforth.com\/walkingtheblackdog\/day-51\/","title":{"rendered":"Day 51"},"content":{"rendered":"

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From:\u00a0<\/strong>Middleton in Teesdale to Langdon Beck
\nDistance:\u00a0<\/strong>9m \/ 14.4km
\nCumulated distance:\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

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It was just a short hop, skip and a jump today from Middleton in Teesdale to Langdon Beck.\u00a0The walk followed the River Tees, a tumbling foamy river which forms rapids, rock pools and waterfalls along the way. The riverside fields have remained untainted by chemicals and are full of pink and white milkmaids, shiny marsh marigolds, slender purple spikes of early marsh orchid and acid yellow balls of globeflower. Precious little white sandwort flowers cover the ground, indicating the lead-rich ground beneath. In fact so clear an indicator of lead were they that once they had the name \u2018leadwort\u2019.<\/span><\/p>\n

Breakfast was a fine affair at Brunswick House, with the world’s best porridge. The B&B had been a top notch bed for the night. The leisurely start to the day included dropping in at the local butcher to buy foodstuffs for a picnic. And what a joy the shop and the butcher were. There was a rich variety of local produce which made our selection nigh-on impossible. We ended up with home-made pork pies, scotch eggs, local strong cheddar, baps and a packet of wonderful, irregularly-shaped coconut tartlets that I know my Mum used to make when we were children. I’d not come across them in 40 years.<\/p>\n

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Middleton in Teesdale fab butchers.\u00a0 If only everything were as mature as the cheddar…<\/p><\/div>\n

We knew the border with Yorkshire wasn’t that far behind us when the butcher, in his cheerful lilting tones, told us why he sold Victoria Sandwich cakes in halves. ‘Aye, well they’re all old folk in Middleton .. and anyway, I can charge more this way’!<\/p>\n

Passing our dinner venue for the previous evening and the many other delightful buildings of Middleton, we walked downhill towards the Tees. The day looked very promising with sunshine glancing across the river.<\/p>\n

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Last night’s venue for dinner<\/p><\/div>\n

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Now this is how to use those discarded boots – how many walkers simply disappear around here?<\/p><\/div>\n

In some ways the walk today reminded me of the Thames Trail which I walked a couple of years ago. Narrow paths along the side of the river, with a richly varied birdlife. But that’s really where the similarities stopped. The Tees is remote, has rapids and waterfalls with a backdrop of moody high moors. It’s full of sudden drops in height and then passages when it ambles among the trees, with sheep finding new, sweet blades of grass at its edge. We passed and crossed several of its tributaries, using rustic bridges or stepping stones.<\/p>\n

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Pathway along the river<\/p><\/div>\n

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Stepping stones….for people with longer legs than me!<\/p><\/div>\n

I was hopeful of seeing the royal blue, trumpet-shaped spring gentians. They were my Dad\u2019s favourite alpine flower but no matter how many specimens we bought him to plant in the garden, they never flourished and instead withered and died within the season. You really can\u2019t fight nature like this .. I tried it in our garden in the Cotswolds with hydrangeas. I dearly wanted an ocean of blue outside our dining room window and even though I knew they needed acidic soil I planted dozens of them in our very alkaline soil .. within the year they had triumphantly turned to pink!<\/span><\/p>\n

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River Tees<\/p><\/div>\n

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Limestone reflections?<\/p><\/div>\n

Emerald green pasture lay to our left and the sheep and lambs all performed impeccably for the camera. If there has been one motif of this journey it has been sheep with their young lambs. At times it has felt as if I’ve been stuck in a time-warp, a Spring time-warp .. where lambs and daffodils are a permanent feature of the landscape. Rather beautiful but now I think I’m ready for ducklings, goslings and bluebells.<\/p>\n

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Nick taken with the lambs ..<\/p><\/div>\n

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.. as was I<\/p><\/div>\n

We heard the Tees’ Low Force before we saw it. What started out as a soft purr gradually became a rumble and then we rounded the corner to find the tumbling Low Force. It was a shame we’d sat and had our coffee on the river banks just five minutes before!<\/p>\n

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Low Force<\/p><\/div>\n

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Grumpy old men – Adrian practising his concealment techniques…<\/p><\/div>\n

And then on to\u00a0the natural beauty of High Force and the impressive medieval Raby Castle. Although it\u2019s not the longest fall of any English water in UK, it is the biggest volume of water falling over a precipice in the country. In harsh winters the Falls freeze over<\/span>, creating cathedral-like ice formations.<\/span><\/p>\n

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High Force<\/p><\/div>\n

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From further back<\/p><\/div>\n

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Upstream<\/p><\/div>\n

As we walked further upstream the landscape became really quite desolate, with the weather becoming grey to match the mood. The houses were few and far between and in fact one of the few buildings we did see was a quarry, with a warning sign about detonations.<\/p>\n

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River-side quarry<\/p><\/div>\n

I was astonished to realise that I\u2019ve never even heard of the unfortunately named Raby Castle. It\u2019s staggeringly beautiful. King Cnut first owned the Estate in the early 11th century. He may well have built a manor house on the land but it was the Nevills who built the 14th century castle, which still stands today. Remarkable really, when you consider how we think nothing of rebuilding houses when they get to being a couple of decades old. Surrounding houses on the estate are all required to be painted white as part of the lease agreement with the Raby Estate, which owns much of the area. The story goes that one day, \u2018one of the many Lord Barnards from history was out hunting and became stranded in a storm. He headed to a farmhouse, believing it to be one of his own properties, but he was mistaken and despite the bitter weather, was refused shelter. Determined that he would never make the same mistake again, he insisted that from then on any building on his estate must be painted white. A rather extreme reaction perhaps, but then just what is the point in being a rich landowner if you can\u2019t set an absurd rule or two?<\/span><\/p>\n

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White houses dotted in the landscape<\/p><\/div>\n

Quirkiest name of the day award has to go to Cronkley. But tomorrow we’ll be seeing Cauldron Snout, not a bad contender either!\u00a0Langton Beck, where we’ve stopped for the night, is a tiny little village with a cluster of white-washed buildings. <\/span><\/p>\n

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Langton Beck Hotel nestling among the trees<\/p><\/div>\n

Black Dog Tails<\/strong>
\nCute little Harris is planning on becoming a hero! He’s been selected to train with New Zealand’s Blind Foundation.<\/span><\/p>\n

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It was just a short hop, skip and a jump today ..<\/p>\n

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