Coast to Coast, Day 14

When – Friday 17 May 2013
Where – Glaisdale to Robin Hood’s Bay
Distance – 19 miles
Walking with – Annette, Dr Dave & Original Steve
Home for the night – Northcliff B&B
Weather – Dry. And in the morning it was even sunny. Bonus!

Fourteen days and 200 miles away from where we started, Annette, I, and a gaggle of great people we’ve met along the way finished the Coast to Coast walk today. Apparently around 7,000 people a year think it’s a good idea to walk across the north of England on a two week or so holiday. Around 30 of us finished it today, having spent the last two weeks bumping into each other in pubs or on the trail, swapping C2C gossip and tall tales (count yourself lucky I never told you the tale of Barry and what happened to his chaffing underpants) as we went. It’s been fabulous. Even the bits where I walked freezing cold and utterly sodden, in fog, for hours on end. Here’s how the last day went…

It was only fitting that Annette and I did our final walk of the trip in the very good company of Dr Dave & Original Steve, who we first met on Day 1, climbing up Dent Hill on our approach to the Lake District. With 19 miles left to cover we set out shortly before 9am with some sunshine and blue skies turning out to accompany us on our way.

A very pretty walk, much of it along the River Esk or through forest, took us through the picture postcard villages of Egton Bridge and Grosmont, where the Whitby to Pickering steam train was ‘snapped’ as we waited by the railway crossing. A steep but satisfying climb up a quiet road took us back up onto the moors again – and what a view from Sleights Moor. Stunning. Photos were taken and one of them is below. More moor (tee hee) walking took us down to Littlebeck, where we stopped for cake by a bench, and where Dr Dave got to use his Swiss Army knife for the first and only time on the walk to cut Annette’s cake. I’m pleased to report that the operation was a complete success.

We only gave ourselves about 30 minutes of walking between there and the lovely outdoor tea rooms at Falling Floss, where we felt compelled to stop again (and where we saw the Gang of 15, having originally said what we thought were our farewells to them a few days before). WHAT a 30 minute walk though – Little Beck Wood is enchanting, with waterfalls, a hermitage and, I swear, if you look hard enough, you’ll find pixies and fairies in those woods too.

After the woods came another climb and then we were up on Sneaton Low Moor, which we thought was a bit boggy: until we got to Graystone Hills, which is actually a moor. A very boggy moor. ‘Walk on water’ Original Steve seemed to get across unscathed (or so he KEPT telling us), and Dr Dave didn’t do too badly. Annette and I? We did less well, and apparently my exclamations as I repeatedly sunk into the bog were just a long line of expletives. Luckily no swear box was in sight, otherwise I’d have been bankrupt. Suffice to say, the last bit of my walk didn’t involve dry boots.

After 10 minutes of trying to figure out where the footpath was we headed down a farmland track and then by road to Low Hawsker and then High Hawsker… where we stopped for our third refuelling break of the day at a tea room by the holiday camp. Yup, the four of us were on our final victory lap of the C2C relay, giddy on the excitement of being so close to finishing, and we were ‘tea-stopping’ at every opportunity. Although that may be me interpreting that through a Ibuprofen haze – funny how they never seem to talk about left shin injuries with professional sportspeople. Bet they have some fancy name for it. Anyway, it was hurting a bit by that point, and Dr Dave prescribed more drugs as the answer to my woes.

Right after the caravan park was… (Cue drumroll) the North Sea – our final cliff top approach to Robin Hood’s Bay and Wainwright’s Bar at the Bay Hotel. After two weeks of walking it was a slightly surreal experience to be walking down into Bay (as the locals call it), to be greeted on arrival by many of our new walking friends we met along the way (a lot of whom were, of course, called Steve).

As we strolled down to the beach for the ceremonial dipping of our boots in the sea, Dr Dave and Annette suddenly made a run for it, beating Original Steve to the finish in the closing moments of our 200 mile walk. Very, very funny. We were lucky enough to get the moment – along with some shots on the beach, captured by photographer Steve, who really truly is a proper photographer.

More photos, then the Gang of 15 disappeared up the road to their bus and we went to the pub for a beer. And then another beer. Our long walk was over. The shin will heal but the memories will last a lifetime. Thank you to everyone who has spent the last two weeks walking the Coast to Coast. You are some of the kindest, best humoured, & most wonderfully eccentric people I’ve ever met, and I had an absolute ball.

Photos, from top to bottom: the view from Sleights Moor, our first cake break of the day, the first view of Robin Hood’s Bay, Dr Dave & Annette making a dash for the sea, (left to right) Original Steve, Dr Dave, me and Annette dipping our boots in the sea, True Bromance – Photographer Steve (left) & Australian Steve (right), The Gang of 15 heading off for a final time.

Coast to Coast, Day 13

When – 16 May 2013
Where – Clay Bank Top to Glaisdale
Distance – 18.5 miles
Walking with – Annette
Home for the night – The Arncliffe Arms
Weather – Sunny. Not a drop of rain. Incredibly good visibility.

Yesterday may have been mist-magedon, but as is often the case with Britain weather, today was another story entirely. Blue sky, sunshine, hardly any wind and incredible views. It was, in fact, a perfect walking day. It was a day to walk until your feet drop off. Which is why Annette and I changed plan and walked 18.5 miles instead of the 8.5 we had originally planned, and why tomorrow will now be our last day on the Coast to Coast.

I’ve cycled through the North York Moors before, and it was a bit soul destroying – the thrill of the downhill ride diminished by knowing you were about to have to gain all that height all over again. And I didn’t come away with a real sense of how beautiful the moors are. Today I got what an absolutely stunning part of the country they are. It was, I think, my favourite day of the walk along with the stroll along St Sunday’s Crag.

We set off from Clay Bank Tops shortly after 8.30am, climbing for the first 15 minutes or so. And then we were on top. Looking back we could see just how stunning the mist-hidden countryside was that we’d passed through yesterday, and what a fabulous day of walking we had in front of us.

After 12 days of walking, today’s route was a treat; wide, smooth tracks, much of it on a former rail line made for easy walking all the way – we seemed to fly along Carr Ridge, Urra Moor, Bloworth Crossing and Farndale Moor. No map reading required, just the ability to keep putting one foot in front of another and to repeatedly comment on the beauty of your surroundings. A picture tells a thousand stories, so I’m going to leave it to the ones below to give you the general idea.

Our next moor was High Blakey, where we stopped for a lemonade at the very nice Lion Inn, the fourth highest inn in Britain. Bumped into the very funny Andy and Laura there, last seen in Richmond. A bit of road walking later and we met up again at Fat Betty, a squat looking white marker where tradition dictates you should leave a food offering and take one in return. We walked along with them a little further, catching our first glimpse of the North Sea (cue moment of great pride as I realised I really have almost walked all the way across the country) but Annette and I were determined our lunch stop needed to be in Great Fryup Dale, so we stopped on a stone bench by an old building called Trough House.

The final couple of hours walking along Glaisdale High Moor and then Glaisdale Moor were still beautiful, but to honest I was tired by then and although the footpaths were still very clear, they were a tad more stony, requiring more attention. The final walk down through Glaisdale village may only have been a mile but I swear it took forever – for the first time on this walk, I was properly, comprehensively knackered. I couldn’t even finish my second pint of beer. It was 8pm and my bed was calling, loud and very, very clear!

Coast to Coast, Day 12

When – 15 May 2013
Where – Osmotherley to Clay Bank Top
Distance – 13.5 miles
Walking with – Annette, and later on Dr Dave and Original Steve
Home for the night – Newlands House B&B, Great Broughton
Weather – Absolutely pissed it down. Mist. Wind. You get the picture.

Today could, even should, have been a whole lot worse than it was. As I starred out of my hostel window at the pouring down rain I lamented my failure to bring my waterproof trousers with me and consigned myself to the fact that I was going to be wet and cold all day.

And then a miracle happened – Annette met me by the start of the walk with a pair of waterproof trousers! Given to her, to pass on to me, by Steve the photographer! AMAZING! My day picked up right then and there. Then Annette told me she’d seen our two original Coast to Coast walking buddies, Dr Dave and Original Steve (so named because he was the first in the long-line of Steves we’ve encountered on our cross country trip) in the village and that we were all headed to the same place tonight. Fab! We thought we’d lost all our C2C buddies after saying goodbye to the Gang of 15, but no, there were the first two people we’d met and walked with on the very first day, a week after we’d last seen them in Shap.

Quickly pulling on the best present in the world ever (AKA the magically appearing waterproof over trousers), we set off into the rain and mist back up the hill to Arncliffe Wood. I won’t bore you with lengthy descriptions of the beautiful Scarth Wood Moor, the forest we walked through or Huthwaite Green. Because we couldn’t sodding see anything. You’ll note, in fact, that all the pictures below (taken when the rain abated enough to risk getting my iPhone out for a second) have a certain, um, ‘misty’ quality to them.

On the steady climb up to Live Moor we spotted two familiar looking backpacks on the backs of two equally rain-sodden walkers ahead of us – Dr Dave & Original Steve. Hurrah! Misery may love company but so does One Woman and Her Maps, and the waterproof trousers meant that I was actually in a pretty good mood – despite a nagging ache in my left shin that I am continuing to be very brave about.

Together the four of us walked the largely flagstone-like paved route across Live Moor and Carlton Moor, pausing occasionally at what was supposed to be a great view point to giggle and make ironic comments as we peered into the mist and cloud that surrounded us. ‘Great views east and north to Middlesbrough and the North Sea’ promised the Coast to Coast path Trailerblazer Guide. ‘Not sodding likely’ proclaimed we, as the rain and cold wind continued its assault on our sanity.

Even the building site where a cafe used to be (Lord Stones Cafe is no more, Coast to Coasters) couldn’t dampen my spirits, and teamwork meant we did eventually locate the path behind the pile of sand and dirt the builders were obviously trying to put us off track with. The climb up to Kirby Bank was a great way of warming up a bit, and I’m kind of glad we couldn’t see down as the glimpses I got from the edge seemed to suggest a pretty vertiginous drop…

A steep descent and a bit of a climb later and we were at the Wain Stones, a striking looking outcrop of rocks you’ll see in one of the photos below. What you won’t see in the picture is the four of us going slightly off-track trying to find our way around the stones and doing a bit of scrambling on a very narrow path. Or the startled look on the faces of the group of schoolchildren who were suddenly confronted with Steve emerging from the mist, seemingly from nowhere, shouting ‘Here’s the path’…

A short walk along Hasty Bank, another steep climb down and we’d reached our destination for the day: Clay Bank Tops. Dr Dave & Original Steve were being picked up from there, but despite their best efforts couldn’t persuade their B&B to give us a lift too, so Annette and I hot-footed it the 2.5 miles downhill into Great Broughton where we were staying. A blissfully hot shower and change into (all) my dry clothes later, and we headed to the local pub where I managed to drink four pints without them really touching the sides, have dinner and meet the two maddest Coast-to-Coasters of our trip, Andy and Yogi. They are walking the C2C in seven bonkers days, carrying 25k rucksacks (they say – I tried to pick one up and think it was heavier) with them as they go. Impressive? Insane? Both. Clearly they are both ridiculously fit, but, from the number of times they’ve got lost, I’d also say they are crap at map reading. They reckon they may have walked 300 miles instead of 200 by the time they get to Robin Hoods Bay. Sounds about right! It’s not just the places making this trip, it’s also the people, and we’ve been meeting some brilliantly bonkers ones.

Photos from top to bottom: the wood climbing back out of Osmotherley, Annette emerging from the mist, Original Steve and Annette walking towards the Wain Stones, Original Steve looking on in bemusement at one of the many fire risk posters we encountered on the walk

Coast to Coast, Day 11

When – 14 May 2013
Where – Danby Wiske to Osmotherley
Distance – 12 miles
Walking with – Annette
Home for the night – Osmotherley YHA
Weather – Essentially Dry. That cold wind is still around though. And the rain? It’s heading back my way…

Today I walked between my two favourite place names of the walk, Danby Wiske and Osmotherley, as I traversed (perhaps an over-dramatic word for 12 miles of flat walking, but what the hell, let’s USE the English language) the second half of the Vale of Mowbray, which separates the Dales and the Moors.

What about those names, Danby Wiske and Osmotherley? Aren’t they glorious? Do I keep saying them in a ‘southerner trying to do a north eastern accent’ voice? I think you can probably guess the embarrassing answer to that particular question.

I’ll be honest, it wasn’t a massively eventful walk today and wasn’t the ‘hiking social whirl’ it often becomes. A lot of the people we’ve met along the way walked yesterday what we’ve done in two, and will finish the day before us. Even the Gang of 15, who we first encountered on Day 4, will leave us behind after tonight and finish on Friday, while others are taking it slower and finishing on the Sunday.

We did walk along with the big group for a while today, after they caught up with us as we were finishing an early lunch (scotch egg & pickled onion flavour Monster Munch. Food of the gods, I tell thee), but the dubious delights of a service station cafe (instant hot chocolate in a mug? Yes please!) just before the A19 proved too much for Annette and I, and we left them on their forced-march to wherever Geoff was taking them at breakneck speed today. Poor things had a lot of miles to cover and a coach pickup time that was, apparently, immovable.

Our walk today really consisted of walking past and through farms, with the occasional stile or railway line – and on one occasion, both at the same time – to break the monotony. We did stop to check out two churches today; the pretty one at Danby Wiske and one at Ingleby Cross which was closed but which appeared to have two bell ringing ropes in easy reach. It took every single bit of the little self-constraint I have not to pull on a rope and see what happened. I took a photo instead, a kind of post-Kodak World consolation prize, which I’m sharing with you below, you lucky things.

After that something odd happened, something we haven’t done much of for the past few days. We began to climb (as we made our way around Arncliffe Wood). Looks like we might do quite a bit of climbing at the start of tomorrow to get up on the moors. Which will be rather nice, as it’ll hopefully keep me warm in what’s supposed to be bucketing-down rain. Every cloud, silver-lining, blah, blah…

The 20 minute walk off the route to Osmotherley took us on part of the Cleveland Way (a national trail, unlike the Coast to Coast, which is, you know, just the most popular long-distance path in England, or something like that). So now I can say I’ve walked part of that one too. A whole mile of it, in fact. Super…

Osmotherley, by the way, is very, very pretty.

Photos, from top to bottom: churchyard at Danby Wiske, field, the bell cordsI didn’t pull in Ingleby Cross, Osmotherley.

Coast to Coast, Day 10

When – 13 May 2013
Where – Richmond to Danby Wiske
Distance – 14 miles
Walking with – Annette and special guest star Photographer Steve.
Home for the night – White Swan
Weather – Although the wind remains our constant, chilly companion, it was dry again. And the sun came out, so I have some ‘blue sky’ photos to share today.

For the third day in a row, I’ve arrived at my destination with dry boots. This makes me a very happy woman indeed.

As we ‘only’ had 14 flat miles today, we took our time leaving Richmond this morning, and visited the town’s impressive castle (which had the loveliest people working at it – give them a pay rise English Heritage) before heading out for a leisurely 10.45am start.

Annette and I also had a special guest on our walk today – photographer Steve from the Gang of 15, whose walking group had to leave town earlier than he could that day. Lucky Steve got to be escorted to Danby Wiske by us instead – his sense of relief when we caught up with the Gang about three miles before the end of the walk was palpable!

We headed out of Richmond on the pretty old stone bridge you can see from the castle (picture below) and along a short stretch of the River Swale, where my confusion with kissing gates saw us take a minor detour from the Coast to Coast. Never fear, we picked it up again within ten minutes and before we knew it we were past the sewage works (a lesser known feature of the C2C walk) and entering an area ominously signed as being a military training area – this is Catterick Garrison country after all.

Pleased to report that none of our group were killed or injured whilst passing through the area, and that we lived on to face down some fairly feisty looking – and fast moving – cows near Bolton-on-Swale after a pleasant lunch stop by the river. The cows were not the only farm animals acting strangely today though. The field of mysteriously stationary sheep (AKA the Stepford Sheep or The Sedated Ones) at our lunch stop were also a bit disturbing. Of course the other explanation is that it was such an easy, flat walk today that I may have had a bit too much time on my hands to over think things…

We caught up with the Gang on the long stretch of road near Whitwell and Streetlam, reuniting Steve with the other Steves. And the Geoffs…

Our destination today was the lovely White Swan pub in Danby Wiske, one of the nicest places I’ve stayed on the trip. Really friendly owners, nicely done out, comfortable rooms and stomach-groaningly generous portions of food. And for the first time on my trip I didn’t have any ale at all today. It was missed!

Photos from top to bottom – view from Richmond Castle, Steve teaching Annette how to tie her shoelaces (!), the feisty cows, the Stepford Sheep and a view across the fields by Streetlam.

Coast to Coast, Day 9

When – 12 May 2013
Where – Reeth to Richmond
Distance – 10.5 miles
Walking with – Annette
Home for the night – The Buck
Weather – Bit chilly but it didn’t rain!!!!!

On today’s walk, one of the most important moments of the trip took place – we got the perfect sheep/lamb photo (see below), close to the banks of the River Swale.This was a particularly poignant occasion for Annette, who has been professing an increasing desire to learn more about sheep in the past week. Least said on that, (hopefully) soonest mended, but probably best that we’ll both be back in London and ‘real life’ come next Sunday!

It was an easy and short day – we started at 9.45am and were in Richmond by 1.30pm – and we actually stopped a couple of times for snacks and lunch too. Our walk out of pretty Reeth was mainly along the riverside, and then through a series of rolling green fields. We passed by Marrick Priory Outdoor centre, where some cows in a nearby field were in a disgusting, and in one case, virtually skeletal state. The only obviously poorly kept animals I’ve seen in nine days of walking across rural England, and which I hope not to see again.

A stroll through more fields and as we saw the sign to a (closed) tearoom, we bumped into Jules & Steve, who we always seem to find whenever tea and cake are in the offing. Andy & Laura were with them and we walked along with them all for a while through more fields and over a series of stiles before leaving them looking around the church of St Edmund the Martyr at Marske (where I also got my first mobile phone reception in five days. I even had 3G. I was besides myself with excitement).

More fields, a walk over the sweet ‘Paddy’s Bridge (presumably not MY Uncle Paddy’s bridge, but I will check when I see him) and then we headed up towards Applegarth Scar, where a clear track led us past some farms and through Whitecliffe Wood – our final bit of rural greenery before hitting the road that led us down into Richmond, a pretty market town in which almost every shop, including the Boots, is closed on a Sunday. And which would help explain why I was in the pub having a couple of drinks with photographer Steve, and then with Australian Steve (both from the Gang of 15) by around 3.30 in the afternoon. Shocking behaviour, but get this – three pints of ale was less than £7.50. I may have to consider relocating… Although it would be one hell of a cycle commute everyday…

Photos, from top to bottom: the River Swale by Reeth, the perfect sheep and her lambs, looking down towards Richmond and the River Swale (again).

Coast to Coast, Day 8

When – 11 May 2013
Where – Keld to Reeth (the high route)
Distance – 12.5 miles
Walking with – Annette
Home for the night – The Black Bull
Weather – Mainly light rain. Highs a balmy 5c.

Despite only have 12.5 miles to walk today, we set off on our walk at an early doors time of 8.40am – which meant we were done and dusted by 1.20pm: a tad too early, even with the three pubs of Reeth to keep us company.

The reason we started out so early is because the other couple in our B&B last night were walking the Pennine Way, and had a long day ahead. Bearing in mind the guy was an over-bearing, opinionated type ( yeah yeah – too like me) I found it pretty funny when he realised at our drop off point that he’d forgotten their map. Back to the farm to pick it up went our host…

Anyway, the walk… It was pretty company-less today. Annette and I walked into the four-person group we call the ‘flag party’ (they carry flags and are doing a sponsored walk on behalf of the Stroke Association) earlier on today, last encountered on the moorland out of Shap. Did an impromptu country dancing session with Steve (really), the maddest member of their group, by East Grain, but that was about it for human action today until we (separately) bumped into the ‘Gang of 15′ (spilt into a gang of 4 and 11) in pubs in Reeth.

Lack of social interaction aside, it was a pleasant walk through pretty Daleside (is that a word? If not, can I invent it?) and although it rained most of the time it wasn’t heavy, the wind was to our backs and – biggest victory of all – my feet stayed dry. The bliss!

The Dales, as well as being a lovely part of the planet, is also blessed with some great place names. My favourite one of the day was the Noel Edmunds-esque sounding Cringley Bottom, just after the very grand sounding Surrender Bridge. Not sure if Cringley Bottom was the name of the steep hillside we had to navigate our way down and back up or the river we crossed by way of a sweet little wooden bridge!

Anyway, before we got to either of those exotic sounding locales, the first great nameplace of the day was Crackpot Hall, the ruins of which we reached after half an hour of climbing ever higher above the very pretty River Swale. It wouldn’t actually have been anything as grand as a hall, just a house, and apparently Crackpot means ‘deep hole or chasm that is the haunt of the crows’ rather than anything more sinister. Still, it’s a fabulous name.

Shortly after we met the Flag Gang at East Grain, and then picked up the first of many easy to follow tracks – this one across Gunnerside Moor – that made this a simple day for navigating. The tracks all seem to be there as a legacy of the huge amount of lead mining that used to happen in the hillsides of the local area, and which has of course left it scarred (but in an inadvertently beautiful way) and covered in the ruins of all mine buildings. The prettiest of those spots was the Brakethwaite Ruins – a steep climb down from Gunnerside Moor before an even steeper climb back up through the moonscape like landscape of Melbecks Moor.

Once back up on top of the moor, it was another easy track along the top. We had an early lunch sheltering from the rain shortly before the remains of an old smelting mill, and carried on with the track until the aforementioned (and splendidly named) Surrender Bridge. A little negotiation of some boggy ground and then our final track of the day took us past farmland and a number of farmhouses before heading downhill into the very pretty village of Reeth. Where I probably had too many pints of nice Yorkshire award winning ale, and a very nice pizza, while half-watching Wigan win the FA cup in the excellent Buck Hotel.