Читать книгу The Pennine Way - the Path, the People, the Journey онлайн
21 страница из 86
I trotted along the straight and seemingly unending line of paving stones across Featherbed Moss with something akin to renewed vigour. Looking back, I could just make out the impressive rocky battlements of Kinder’s upper northern face. Once they disappeared from sight into the mist, I plodded on and, after what seemed like ages, finally reached the top of the Snake Pass, where the trail crosses the A57. It’s a featureless and rather forlorn place. I took some photos, mainly I think just to record the fact that I had got there.
The Snake Pass has itself played a part in the great Pennine Way adventure, albeit rather a sorry one. There are tales of miserable, limping walkers throwing in the towel when they reach the A57, less than ten miles from the start at Edale, and wearily trudging the two and a half miles down the road to the Snake Pass Inn, or even west to Glossop. Others use the location to jettison unwanted items. A national park ranger told me that they regularly find what they believe is the detritus from Pennine Way walkers dumped by the side of the road. Apparently the most commonly found items are lightweight tents and tins of baked beans.