Slow walking in Uldale.

  Driving up the M6 from Preston is always busy and often an accident blackspot, but suddenly, after junction 36, the road empties and all is peaceful with fewer lorries. I’m heading for junction 37, the one with an abrupt stop up the hill and no roundabout. This junction gives access to the Western part of the Lakes, as well as to the Howgills and the hills around Dent, now called the Western Yorkshire Dales National Park, even though they are now mainly in Cumbria. Historically, both Sedbergh and Dent were in the West Riding of Yorkshire until 1974, so maybe there is some logic in the naming. Dent certainly feels like a Yorkshire Dales village. The road winds down to Sedbergh and gives an intimate view into the heart of the Howgills, which sets the pulse going.

  Since some friends of mine moved into Dentdale a few years ago, this has been a regular trip for me, particularly in the last three years when we were busy developing a climbing area, Blackbed Scar, on Wild Boar Fell. Today I have a gentler walk in mind, the first of the year, really, due to other circumstances. I’ve read about the waterfalls on the River Rawthey in hidden Uldale, but never explored them. A good enough reason to travel north to the hills, but stay low on a dry day with cold winds. I find that Metcheck often gives the more accurate local forecast. *

  I’ve taken a book off my shelves for another appraisal—52 WAYS TO WALK, by Annabel Streets.

  Each week, it suggests, one week at a time, different themes and ideas to keep your walks varied. There is a lot of dubious science incorporated, which is probably why it was relegated to my shelves. But we all recognise the physical and mental benefits of walking, so there is no harm in varying our routines. Time to start a new year with a weekly chapter from the book. We are already into the 4th week of 2026, so I can skip the first three chapters: Walk in the Cold, Improve Your Gait. and Walk, Smile, Greet. I feel I have covered those in my daily walk around the corner to the shops. So this week’s chapter comes up with Just One Slow Walk. She controversially suggests that long, slow walks are more beneficial than short, high-intensity periods. Soon to be contradicted in her week 7 chapter – Take a Twelve-Minute Walk. Whatever, I am happy to go along with the slow theme today, having been out hardly at all this year. The main reason, anyhow, is always to reduce your time sitting. 

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  So I find myself parked up at Rawthey Bridge, just north of Cautley, where the river branches off into Uldale. That forecast is partially correct: the air temperature is about 7, but with stronger winds than expected, it feels freezing,  hat and gloves from the set off. 

  There is no path up the initial section of the gorge, so I pick up an unmarked bridleway into the low hills, Bluecaster, to the south west of the river.

  The map shows several fords along the way; I’m expecting wet feet. That doesn’t take long in the waterlogged ground.

  Of course, one tends to visit waterfalls for their full effect after rain, so I can’t complain. Height is gained, and then the valley traversed high above the river, hidden in the wooded depths. All around are familiar fells, Cautley Spout cradled by the Howgills, the back of Wild Boar and distant Nine Standards.

  The sun is in my eyes, ensuring that I manage to step onto as many unseen deep bogs as possible. The theme of Slow is easily followed. 

  In parts, there are signs of stone culverts and banking, suggesting packhorse use long ago. 

  Shake holes remind me I am in Limestone country.

  At last, the now vague path levels alongside the rushing river at a footbridge, which gives good views of the first falls upstream. I do wonder what the length of water downstream in the wooded gorge that I have bypassed would have revealed. I am sure someone will have canyoned the whole length. I could cross the bridge and complete my modest circular walk back down the opposite side of the valley, but a faint path continues on this side. The map shows a path that extends another half mile or so to an abandoned quarry, which was no doubt its raison d’être.

  Treading carefully on the slippery limestone, I follow the river past a series of falls over tilted strata. There seem to be some good deep swimming pools along the way.

  My video aims to give a sense of the sounds and sights of the falls. All very dramatic in this lonely valley.

  Reaching the quarry area, the eroded path is forced onto a lip directly above the water. It looks tricky, so I make my excuses and decide, probably sensibly, to turn around and retreat. Further on, the river levels out and then disappears around the corner to more unseen falls. In drier weather and with companions, I would have gone on.

  Later, YouTube shows the gorge becoming inaccessible and drones being used to view the taller falls, so today I made the right decision. But the thought of a summer’s direct exploration up the waters is at the back of my mind.  Of course, Mark Richards has been there more than once.

  Back at the bridge.

I cross over, climb up, bypass Uldale House and wander slowly back along the deserted lanes. 

   The only traffic is the red postie’s van.

  There are some lonely sheep farms up here; at one time, their lives probably didn’t stretch much further than Sedbergh every few weeks.

   This was previously a school, which closed in 1940.

  Dropping back down to Rawthey Bridge, I can trace the boggy start of the walk on the low hillside opposite with Cautley Crag in the background.

  I finish the afternoon warming up and chatting over a pot of tea at my friends’ Dentdale house. Here’s to more slow walking. 

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