PICTURES BY CHIPPS
The Howgills were a mystery to me – my experience of them confined to the view from the M6. Approaching Tebay, as thoughts turn to whether we’re far enough into a journey north to justify pies, I’ve gazed out and wondered at them. They’re unusually rounded, towering lumps of green. No craggy chunks missing, just large, smooth looking sides, like huge sourdough loaves. Definitely hills, rather than mountains, with their steep, but even sides; there’s not the same level of menace I associate with the rocky-sided proper mountains on the other side of the M6, over in the Lake District. Evenly sloping hills with soft landings on all sides, these are inviting hills I want to play in.
There’s also an air of mystique about them, as I’ve heard from the rest of the Singletrack team that there’s a descent in there that was too long to get to the bottom of... (How is that possible? Surely ‘Too much descent’ is an oxymoron up there with ‘Too much adventure’ and ‘Too much chocolate’?) So when we start to line up must-do stretches of singletrack for a series of magazine features, this ribbon of trail is a natural contender.