To Dent - The Seven Year Itch - CycleBlaze

August 1, 2024

To Dent

Today’s final destination is Dent, a village buried deep in the Yorkshire Dales surrounded by steep-walled fells; and with no NCN route to guide us I’ve done my best to pick a reasonable route to get there, following the rivers as much as possible: up the Eden for about ten miles; cut through a gap before dropping to the Clough, and then follow it west and downriver to Sedburgh; and then double back east and up the Dee to Dent.  That’s the plan anyway.

The ride begins well - excellently really - as we enjoy a peaceful ride up the Eden on the B6259 through Nateby and on to Pendragon Castle which Rachael walked to the day before yesterday.  There’s a brief scare when we leave town and come to a road closure sign at the turnoff to B6259, but a man from his front yard opines that we should be able to get through on bikes OK.

The next five miles to the castle are perfectly beautiful - gentle terrain paralleling the river, great views, cows, sheep, barns, and virtually no traffic - probably due to the alleged closure ahead.  You’ve seen this country before from Rachael’s two castle post, but here are some photos anyway because it’s a different day:

Up the Eden Valley.
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Bruce LellmanI like this one a lot. Maybe one for the calendar.
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4 months ago
Cows!
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Up the Eden Valley.
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Up the Eden Valley.
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Sheep!
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Up the Eden Valley.
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Up the Eden Valley.
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The hills rise straight up on the opposite side of the river (and on our side too). That’s probably High Pike Hill and High Seat we’re looking at here.
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Pendragon Castle.
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Just beyond the castle though there’s another scare though, and a serious one this time.  There’s another road closure warning, this one with a stern note saying that bicycles and even walkers are prohibited.  Ugh.  Now they tell us!  That would have been nice to have known four miles back.  It would be really awful to backtrack to Kirkby Stephen and start over, taking the busy A road instead.  There’s a small community with a couple of houses here though, and one of them has a lady in the yard out front so we ask her about the situation.

She’s not encouraging.  She says she thinks maybe they’ll let a bike through because she remembers seeing one coming south from that direction, but it’s a serious project with pile drivers at work - maybe a bridge is out, but she didn’t say.  She did say that it’s terrible for the folks living on the other side because it’s such a long roundabout drive for them to get out now.

So we have to go back, all the way back to pick up a different road - which I’m thinking is all the way back to Kirkby Stephens until she corrects me and says we can get through on Tommy Road.  Tommy Road!  I recognize it from Rachael’s walk, but didn’t notice its turnoff when we passed.  It’s right by the castle, just two hundred yards back where we’re standing.  And it explains why there’s the sign for bikers and walkers there, because it’s the last chance to take a different route.

So the day is saved.  I can see on the map that it will connect us up to Sedburgh but it does face us with a steep climb away from the river, one I haven’t scoped out but that Rachael knows because she walked up here for the views.  Steep, she remembers, and some walking is envisioned.

Up Tommy Road. She’s smiling, which is a good sign.
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To our relief, the climb really isn’t that bad.  After the initial steepness that hits maybe 10% it gradually eases before crowning out after only a mile.  And half-way up there’s an encounter that gives us a break and makes us glad we were forced this way when we pull to the side of the single track road to let a car pass and he surprises us by stopping beside us.  A trim-looking young man steps out and opens by asking if we’re on Bromptons; and then a conversation ensues about bike odysseys- ours and his.  His big adventure is much more impressive than ours: at the age of 19 he took a solo ten month tour - across what sounds like roughly the Northern Tour route around Europe he across America, down the Pacific Coast, and then on to South Africa (without his bike) to explore his father’s heritage from when he worked there long ago during apartheid.  That was his one big bike adventure though, as he says both of his knees are shot now.

After about ten minutes of this engaging exchange we remember we still have half a hill to climb and it’s getting warm and cut it off.  he calls out that he’s very envious of us s we start up the hill again, and then continues driving down. Too late, I realize I forgot to take a photo or ask his name.  Idiot.

Another lime kiln, one of two we pass on the way to the summit.
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From the top we drop down the other side of the ridge to the A683, a road I worried about because of its classification.  It’s perfectly fine though - two lanes and no shoulder, but lightly traveled enough that it’s no concern.

After a couple of miles we come to a turnoff to a side road - a single track farming road protected by a cattle guard - and after stopping to stare at the Garmin to confirm it will merge back in eventually we take our chances with it.  It’s a good decision - the next two miles are the best part of the day as it’s just us and the sheep we scatter off the road as we approach them.

It’s just us and the sheep.
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The best part of the day, but looking at this photo now surprises me. I’d forgotten how overcast it has become and that we were starting to wonder if there’d be rain.
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It’s really peaceful up here, far enough away from the road down in the trough that we can’t hear it.
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Toward the end of this stretch an impressive formation looms straight ahead, and it just keeps becoming more impressive after we’ve moved back on the highway and close in on it.  It’s an unexpected shock once we’re abreast of it and get a good look, because it looks like nothing so much as one of the majestic cirques from the Pyrenees.  It’s deep, bowl-shaped, with a large cascading waterfall spilling down from its highest point.

Later I’ll look it up and learn that this is is Cautley Crag, the remnants of an Ice Age cirque; and the waterfall is Cautley Spout, and 578 foot broken cascade that’s the highest single drop waterfall above ground in the country.  What luck that we were steered this direction by a road closure!

And don’t ask me what it means to be a single drop waterfall, and above ground at that.  I’m not sure I understand, but I’m just happy to have seen it.

A stunning formation looms just ahead of us.
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What luck that we’ve been forced to come this way by a road closure!
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To me this looks like something you’d see in the high Pyrenees.
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A closer look, focused more on the waterfall at the far end.
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This is Cautley Spout, the highest above ground waterfall in England.
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Not far past this wonderful sight we come to Sedbergh, and six miles along the Dee River later we come to Dent.  It’s too early to check in to our room at the Dent Store B&B and we’re hungry anyway so we stop at the Heritage Center for a snack while we kill some time.

Approaching Dent.
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The best view from our room is from the bathroom.
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Video sound track: Ghost Beads, by Oregon

Dent is a very small place with fairly limited tourism support - there are a few B&B’s, a campground, a small store (the one at the place we’re staying), but very few dining options.  The only one open during the day is the heritage center, which offers a decent selection of sandwiches, quiches and deserts but distressingly there’s no beer.  For dinner there’s a takeout pizza place and the George & Dragon, the place our host recommended to us and booked us into months ago.  There’s also the Meadowside Cafe with a more attractive sounding menu but they’re only open on weekends and tonight is Thursday.  

So the George & Dragon it is, which is unfortunate because it has a terribly limited menu.  I have a hamburger which I don’t really care for, and Rachael had a pizza with breaded chicken on it that she didn’t much care for either.  Afterwards we walked to the Meadowside Cafe to see if it had contact information posted, and then called up to book a table.  After tonight’s meal, we’re very excited.

And then there’s Dent, where we’ll be staying for three nights.  Dent is a beautiful little place, striking with its sharply contrasting brown stone and whitewashed houses contrasting against the fells rising on all sides.  It’s a delight every time we step out the door and look around.

In Dent.
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In Dent.
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In Dent.
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In Dent.
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In Dent.
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Yes! We’re booked! We’re so excited!
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Today's ride: 24 miles (39 km)
Total: 3,046 miles (4,902 km)

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Janice BranhamAhhh, just getting back to CB after a while off the grid in Wisconsin, and delighted to follow along with your lovely ride to Dent. Spectacular photos.
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4 months ago