subject: Den And Dale [print this page] Thinking was an effortThinking was an effort. Den and dale have roughly the same meaning and are often interchangeable here one is redundant. Wal could mean several things but experts consider here it means Walasthe name invaders gave to the native Welsh. Possibly here lingered a pocket of Iron Age Celts from Park Rash. After this we spoke hardly at all.
I threw myself on a slope and found the exquisite flowers of the bil berry to hand; Jeune, lying face down inhaling the sweetness on a bank of turf, said; Look, milkwort and saxifragewhite starry stuff. Sometimes she led and I, too lazy to pick my own footing on the steeps, followed contentedly. Often a clear pool in a white floored basin suggested barefoot progress, and as we used to playas children, following brooks up narrowing cloughs, using their steps as staircases, so here, up we went, splashing through shallow water, climbing cool mossy ledges (this brought out unsuspected fragrance), stepping on warm, dry pavements and lingering in deeper pools, watching feet and legs, like Red Indians, in the red brown colouring of the peat water.
There was no need to think of time; however late we arrived in Wharfedale there would still be light enough to find the way, whether we dropped to Buckden, Starbotton or Kettle well. Fortune was with us, too; it is not often one can climb these moors with such comfort, with water so low and bogs so dried up. Where one would normally leave the gill for higher paths we could scramble dry shod. Of course, as we realized, this was not the day to see the beck head and Buckden Pike at their most impressive under racing clouds, winds shouting over them and the air full of the thunder of falling waters. But as Jeune said dryly, We've had quite enough of conditions like that. Make the most of this. Summer may end any day now.
The beck rapidly dwindled, at last dividing into two gills. The map indicated old coal pits at the head of the left branch and a possible route to a quarry from whence a quarrymen's track should carry us to Cam Gill and the Knuckle Bone, which is the tongue of fell behind Star botton. The map marks the boundary of the North and West Riding also and the old boundary dividing Craven and Richmondshire, running along the watersheds as heaven water deals. . . . If all appeared perfectly simple to follow, north over the spine of Buckden Pike or southwards to Top Mere Scar, both well above the 5,000 feet contour.
We left the gill and wandered away over the mosses where perennial moisture feeds the springs and sykes. The mountain ridges showed us the way. So we climbed the broad shoulders of Buckden Pike. Unconsciously, because neither had any desire to turn downhill a moment before we must, we slowed down, an excuse here to rest, a halt here to enjoy the view, here to watch birds on the wing (was one our great buzzard of yesterday?), here to eat our last sandwiches.
