Sunday, 21 June 2009


Last day, homeward stretch. First real sight of the North Sea, looking across to Whitby Abbey. Walking through Littlebeck woods you come across a massive boulder that, amazingly, has been carved into a shelter known as 'The Hermitage'. Then just around the corner the beautiful woodland waterfall of Falling Foss. First evidence that we are reaching our goal. Then that's it folks. Dip your feet in the North Sea at Robin Hood's Bay. Conclusion - it's been an adventure, a wonderful trek across this beautiful country. We set ourselves a goal at the start and we reached it. But let us not forget that we live in fantastic countryside and i urge you all to enjoy, you don't have to take three weeks off work to enjoy it, just get out of the house once in a while. Yet if you can get time off work why not take your dog with you, he, or she, will love it. If you only get one week spend it in the Lake District, i challenge you to find anywhere quite as beautiful.


This is the Lion Inn at Blakey, the refuge from the previous days driving rain, a pub perched in the middle of absolutely nowhere and the 4th highest in the country. I had one of these this morning thanks to Mary at the August Guest House, well a couple of sausages anyway, so thanks Mary. Well it's back to moor land. On arrival at Glisdale we came across this lovely 17th century bridge known as Beggars Bridge to which he commented "I should live under this bridge". On to Grosmont and the North York Moors Steam Railway


Typical, he's been complaining about his mobile phone not working, "95% coverage across the UK and we're walking the 5% with no mobile coverage"!!!! yet I've been able to connect to the 'NET' all the way until the last 3 days. His mobile phone is fine but obviously Internet hasn't yet reached this part of the world. Anyway time to catch up.
Once again we started with a trudge uphill, but i don't like the way the weather looks at the top of the next hill. Then it's on to the wide open North Yorkshire Moors. Onwards. Onwards. Hours on hours of moor land, wind and horizontal driving rain.

Wednesday, 17 June 2009


At last something different to flat valley walking. From here to the east coast 30 miles of the North York Moors. Of course due to the lack of straight walking lines there's still 50 miles to Robin Hood's Bay.
The first part is heading up the forested slopes of the Cleveland Hills. Not that there's gonna be many trees left by the time this lot have finished.
Then would you believe it, all this countryside, you get to the top of the hill and
well i bet he's got a reception on his mobile now !!!
Then moorland all the way

Monday, 15 June 2009


Nothing to report. Nothing to see. Nothing to climb. Nothing of interest except for farmers and Irish tarmac specialists. Road walk arable land road walk. That's it. Leaves you with a strong hankering for The Lake District. Hopefully tomorrow will improve, today we finish at the foot of The Cleveland Hills. Tomorrow we climb.

Sunday, 14 June 2009


Another short day, 9 miles. A dull low level trudge along the Vale of Mowbray. Along the wooded banks of the Swale.

Then it's in to farming country, out with the open meadows and sheep, In with the arable and dairy.
The only thing we came to with any history was the monument to Henry Jenkins. Believe it or not church records show he was born in the year 1500 and died 1n 1670 aged 169 !!! GOOD INNINGS !!!


Spent all day Saturday in Richmond. A couple of hours in the morning swimming in the Swale.

Then it was a short walk up to the castle for a commemoration of 70 years since the outbreak of the second world war. Singing girls "The Spitfires"

then vintage vehicles,

then a magnificent fly by with a vintage Spitfire and Hurricane.

Following this it was an afternoon watching cricket with Richmond v Darlington, with a sleep under the covers.

Friday, 12 June 2009


A short day just 11 miles, and nothing really new. Head off down the Swale banking, branching off up hill, for more extensive views of the valley. Only point of any real history on this leg is Marrick Priory.
Built around 1200 and, yes you guessed it, dismantled by Henry VIII's henchmen. Then it's woodland paths
followed by the usual buttercup filled meadows occupied by flocks of sheep and lambs.Then on entering Richmond a reminder of our goal.
Not that we need it. Day off in Richmond tomorrow. Not more R & R it nearly killed him last time !?!?!


At the head of the Swale in front of Kisdon Force.

Waterfalls locally being known as "forces". Instead of following the river valley, we took the high road through lead mining country. Passed the ruins of Crackpot Hall.

Many of those who frequent the George could have aptly resided here ! Onwards and upwards to the disused mining centre, valleys torn asunder by lead mining long since ceased. This is Blakethwaite Smelting Mill, opened in 1821, and likely closed within 75 years.
Amidst vast, desolate spoils of the old mines marks 100 miles, home soon.
Then it's a long high level walk, cairns guiding the way to Reeth.

Wednesday, 10 June 2009


Leaving Eden valley behind us it's a long climb up the Pennines.
Six miles of steady climb aiming up to what's known as Nine Standards at the very peak of the Pennines at 2170 ft.
If your wondering what size they are, here we are at the summit looking west.
Apparently no one knows the origins but they are at least 200 years old. But in the words of Wainwright "The attainment of Nine Standards is an occasion for celebration, if you are carrying a can of beer prepare to drink it now". The main difference here all the rivers and streams so far have flowed to the Irish Sea, west, from here they flow to the North Sea, east. Fro here on we are going "with the tide". Boggy peat moor land means water has a rather brown tint rather than the crystal clear lakeland variety.
Here i am by some Grouse Butts.
On further investigation at the local farmhouse, some interesting information for the George shooting fraternity. All this moorland was once owned by a Lord Peel, he sold up the whole Gunnerside Estate, some 32000 acres to a yank called Robert Miller. To grouse shoot on the glorious 12th.... £30,000 per day !!!

Tuesday, 9 June 2009


Perhaps yesterday i was a little harsh on Westmorland. Undulating moor land as far as the eye can see, only broken by the dotting of white sheep and the fast approaching Pennines. True remote english countryside. Then look who we should run into ? Only a couple of working border collies. Looks too much like hard work to me. One thing that does stand out is the miles and miles of slendidly built dry stone walls, built generations ago, an art dying out and sadly being replaced by the practical yet far less attractive stock fencing. Here i am running downto Smardale Bridge exactly 78 miles in to the journey. This is a picture of an old lime kiln, used to burn limestone to create lime for use in building mortar or agriculture. Here's a mound of earth known locally as Giants Graves. So if giants can't make it to Robin Hood's Bay, Robin Hood can't make it to Robin Hood's Bay, what chance have we ? Tomorrow the Pennines, then the Yorkshire, God's Own County.