ClimbAn entertaining breakfast. I was seated on my own, and the larger table next to me had the other four guests, all of whom I’d met in the pub last night. Probably all about the same age, in their early twenties, one couple were from Cambridge, having just finished their studies in robotics and veterinary science. The other couple were death metal fans, heavily tattooed and pierced. Both were very chatty and friendly to me (presumably regarding me as someone unthreatening, maybe like their mums) , but they had no idea what to do with each other. There was a lot of studious looking at their phones through breakfast so that they didn’t have to make eye contact. The day started as it continued with a steep climb up through the forest. It was swiftly working off the excellent breakfast, but I was rewarded by a view point opening up so that I could see still more clearly the plain that I had travelled over the last two days. West was in front of me, east would became obvious at the top of the climb. Towards the top of Beacon Hill there is a large transmitting station. I had full signal as I passed. The path turned, still rising a little, and then suddenly in front of me were the North York moors. The sun was beginning to burn off the cloud, and the browns and purples were shimmering in sepia, calling me over. Mr Wainwright, you were a genius. To have this first glimpse of the high lands again after the flat made me cry out with happy surprise. I couldn’t wait to get out on it. I was so glad that I set off before the others, and so had this experience all to myself. I put on Mr Blue Sky, had a happy dance, then turned off the music, and walked in the buzz of insects and the faint bird song, thought about the most important people in my life and felt filled with joy. After the Scarth Wood Moor there was then another forest interlude, like the path was messing with me for getting all over myself with being out in the wild again. Emerging from it there was plenty of evidence of the work that is being done to protect against wild fires. For a lot of the day today the C2C piggy backs onto the Cleveland Way, a really popular 108 mile walk from Helmsley to Filey. I met a woman with her teenage daughters who are doing the Cleveland in 5 days. They did 23 miles yesterday, and she said they were all a bit broken. I passed them, but later, as I had emerged from Clain Wood and was having a breather before climbing Round Hill, she caught up with me and showed me where her farm was in the distance. She’s a farmer who should be helping with the harvest, but instead is out for a long walk with her daughters. Good on her. Out on the moors again, the views went as far as Hartlepool and Middlesbrough. The sea is there, the end of the journey is in sight. A week or so ago, I might have thought I’d feel excitement as the end gets closer, but now I already feel a shadow of the regret that it’s finishing. Today has been mainly about hills. Although it’s not been one powerful tackling of a mountain, more a number of smaller peaks, the repeated climbs and descents have meant that the total ascent for the day has been more than any other on the walk. The mileage wasn’t that high, at just under 12 miles, but the energy expended has felt significant. I could have swapped the moor top route for a lower and much easier road that used to be used by the jet and alum miners, but I wouldn’t have missed the exhilaration and freedom of these views for anything. I sat near a single man my age at the summit of Carlton Moor. We discussed the joys of travelling solo, but also how we both felt too old for extended camping trips. He described a hiking holiday he had in Scotland where the midges and the rain were so bad that he had to retreat into his tent at 6pm. His tent was too low to sit up in, so instead he would end up in his car drinking beer and whisky until late as he had nothing else to do.. He had to call a halt on the holiday early as he thought he’d end up an alcoholic. As I eventually left, he said that it was good to talk to me, he’d had his sister on the phone for half an hour at the summit of the last peak ‘talking about feelings, yadadada…..’ The path over the moor is unequivocal, flagged and mainly even on the flat sections, though challenging and hard underfoot for the descents in particular. I took a little detour for an extra drink at Lords Stone, a remarkably busy cafe, rather incongruous after the tranquil isolation of the morning. After passing the cafe the feeling on the path changed. Instead of long distance walkers, there were many more families and groups clearly just out for the day. The Cleveland Way at this section feels like a local amenity. What a place to have to pop out to for an afternoon. I loved seeing a daughter leading her father up Cold Moor, and as he was complaining that he was out of breath she retorted ‘I told you these hills are a bit spicy!’ Spicy indeed. And an interesting encounter with four walkers who opened with asking why I was breathless as arrived at the summit of Cringle Moor. Once I’d got over that (I couldn’t retort with what might have been a normal withering response as I was breathing too heavily), we talked about walking. They are going to do the C2C next year, and that led me to talk about my big walk. One of the women in particular appeared very excited about the idea, asking lots of questions. I wonder if my conversation with her sets a seed just like the conversation with the American man in a bothy in Scotland did for me. Certainly as I walked on, breathless no longer, her husband said ‘it’s given you ideas, hasn’t it?’ One of the highlights of this bit of the path is the Wainstones, a group of rock outcrops perched seemingly haphazardly on the moor. The Wainstones are one of a very small number of rock climbing opportunities in the area. I inadvertently ended up making the most of these. I couldn’t see the path through the stones, so asked a group of teenage boys who were enjoying clambering over them whether they knew where it was. They pointed out a flimsy looking path that headed round the side. After a few yards I realised that their instruction was not necessarily to be trusted. I ended up scaling the side of the ridge up to the correct path on my hands and knees, conscious that there was a very long drop down. I’m waiting to see if they filmed my endeavours and whether I will shortly be a YouTube sensation with my exhibition of calm bouldering skills under pressure. Today’s walk finished at Clay Bank Top. There is no accommodation here, but the very friendly manager of the Wainstones hotel in Great Broughton, a couple of miles away, came and collected me for my last solo night before David joins me tomorrow evening.
Stats: Distance: 12 miles Total ascent: 2780 feet Calories burned: 2000 Number of toenails that are going black and that I’ll probably lose (eww): 2 Hearty post walk meal with local tipple: Brie with cranberry sauce, chicken burger with extra greens (absolutely humongous portions - winner so far for quantity). Pint of Wainstones brewery Amber ale Video of the day https://www.relive.cc/view/vRO7VRxZzyv
1 Comment
Carly
4/8/2021 20:43:18
Amazing in every way - what stupendous endeavour, weather and views xx
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