Keld to Reeth

Friday 12 September 2008

(Walking Distance: 13 miles)

Keld

Swaledale near Crackpot Hall

Ivelet Bridge

Meadows near Gunnerside

Walltop path, near Isles Bridge

Reeth

It was an excellent and interesting breakfast. I’d seen a low flying helicopter during supper last night. This morning the craft was parked in a field behind the hotel. I was stowed next to the driver. An interesting chap he was too: ex-army. He had an arrangement with the owner of the aircraft whereby he rented it from him when it wasn’t needed. He used the helicopter down time for what amounted to a high class cab business.

The pilot had ferried a Banker (I’m sure that’s the spelling) up from London last night and was flying back to the smoke later in the day. Taxiing shooting parties up to the northern moors was a regular earner apparently.

It could have been half-way blues, but I felt a little bit off colour today: nothing specific or uncomfortable, just not quite on form. I decided to take the easier, more scenic, valley route and was away by 09:15 hours, passing the Whitby Duo leaving their digs in the hamlet. The day was again fair and made for an easy walk down the dale.

All along Swaledale there were hundreds of dead rabbits. It was obvious that many were miximatosis victims; another thought was that the saturated and recently flooded ground had left some animals vulnerable to hyperthermia and disease.

Gunnerside’s Tea Rooms provided the opportunity for a welcome mid morning scone and Earl Grey. I got the distinct impression, however, that the proprietor wasn’t too keen on muddy, scruffy hikers loitering outside her wannabe genteel establishment. No more encouragement was needed; I took my time over the snack, watching the world go by and chatting amiably to her more refined customers.

When I eventually prised myself out of the seat and walked round the corner to find the path, I bumped into the two, thirsty looking, soil encrusted, American couples last seen at Shap. We swapped greetings before I pointed them in the direction of the Tea Rooms: one likes to help local enterprise…

The remainder of the walk to Reeth was pleasant and largely uneventful; the paths were very wet and occasionally flooded; the wall-top path, near to Isles Bridge, was as entertaining as ever; the ford at Barney Beck was high and impossible to negotiate dry-footed. There was one nasty little sting to the day: a heavy, cold, twenty minute long shower; just enough to rehydrate drying trods.

On the outskirts of Reeth I met the Aussies: they’d walked from Muker along the river to Gunnerside, there following the beck to join the high route at Bunton Hush. We arranged to meet later in the pub.

After booking into the Buck at around 15:30hrs, I showered, changed and went for a wander around Reeth. It didn’t take long. When the rain started I made my way back to the Buck and logged into their internet connection. Whilst sat in the bar a procession of familiar faces filed through the village.

I had something of a pub crawl later, visiting all the hostelries and chatting with the Aussies and Gavin and Kathy. Later, back at the Buck with Gavin, I ordered and paid for my customary non-alcoholic lager. It was only when I got back to the table that I realised I’d been given a Mackison Stout: it would have been currish to take it back – it tasted rather like liquid liquorish.

After the booze it was bed: I slept the sleep of the just.

Accomodation:

Buck Hotel
Reeth
N Yorkshire
DL11 6SW
01748 884210


The Buck was fine, if somewhat pricey – the most expensive of the trip. The room was comfortable but tired.