Reeth to Catterick Bridge

Saturday 13 September 2008

(Walking Distance: 15 miles)

Reeth

Below Applegarth Scar

Swale Falls, Richmond

Richmond

Breakfast was scheduled for 08:30hrs. I was in the dinning room ten minutes early to get a head start. The meal was fine but unexceptional. No other walkers were staying.

I was scheduled to walk to St Giles Farm, near Catterick Bridge today. The extra miles, added to the otherwise short day to Richmond, would reduce the near marathon crossing of the Vale of Mowbray the following day to a much more manageable 19 miles.

It had been raining steadily since yesterday tea time; it was still raining at 09:15hrs when I left the pub kitted out in full wet weather gear. Keen to keep dry feet I stayed on tarmac as far as Marrick Priory. I spotted Gavin and Kathy, braver or more reckless than me, on the riverside path: we didn’t meet up again.

A couple of women walkers, Jo and Sarah from Manchester, caught me up at Marrick after the steep climb up the Nun’s Steps. I was dumping my waterproofs in response to the improving day. The Manchester Ladies were aiming for an eleven day crossing, having walked from Kirkby Stephen to Reeth the previous day (and having walked between Borrowdale and Patterdale in one hop ). Like everyone else but me they were heading for Richmond and a lazy afternoon. We walked together for much of the way to the Applegarth farms.

The two American couples were in Marske emerging into daylight from the innards of the church: they were hunting for a tea room promised in their guide (I could have triggered a scone obsession yesterday). They seemed to be enjoying the walk although the elder male was suffering with a strained, painful knee. It was the last time I saw them: they were taking two days to cross from Richmond to Ingleby Cross.

The Geezers were in an enclosure not too far from the path climbing walls and gates to regain the route. They were meeting up with family in Richmond for a couple of rest days. Richmond is another of those places where schedules diverge and familiar faces disappear.

I was in Richmond by 13:15hrs: it was bustling. The little town felt almost metropolitan after the seclusion of the past nine days. I needed nothing so was happy to walk on through.

The path through the woods - next to the Swale, beyond the malodorous sewage works - is as wet and muddy as any on the entire route. The way hovers in entertaining fashion high above the river, before leaving the trees on a high buff on the approach to an abandoned farmstead. I paused for a break, sitting on one of several large masonry blocks marking the otherwise scant remains of Hagg Farm.

It was a tranquil spot - until three youths turned up on scrambler bikes. Round in circles they went, mounting the foundations of the ruin, doing occasional wheelies and causing general mayhem. I went into grumpy old man mode, muttering and grumbling under my breath and spreading my possessions to limit their range. I savoured the moment when the engine of one of the bikes grounded on concrete with a satisfying crunch.

I was just a little humbled when, without irony, one of the lads apologised for disturbing my peace before they all rode off and serenity returned.

Just before St Giles Farm I chatted to a couple walking to St Bees: I warned them about the dusty, parched paths ahead - apparently it had been dry on the North York Moors too...

I got to the farm for 15:30hrs and was welcomed with tea, a chat and cake, before being shown to my large, comfy room. A couple of blokes arrived later, followed by two couples walking with dogs. All had set out from Reeth that morning.

Supper was a satisfying, enjoyable affair. The two blokes were Mersey River Pilots walking the route in two and three day chunks as shift patterns and domestic considerations allowed: they made good and interesting company. The dog walkers went to the pub.

After messing up a Sudoko I was asleep by eleven.

Accommodation:

St. Giles Farm
Catterick Bridge
Richmond
N Yorkshire
DL10 7PH
01748 811372

St Giles shares the “best B&B award” with a couple of other stops. It offers excellent accommodation, terrific food and has welcoming, interesting hosts. It is ideally situated to break the two stages between Reeth and Ingleby Cross into more equal bits.

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.

Kirkby Stephen to Keld

Thursday 11 September 2008

(Walking Distance: 12 miles)

The Aussies, Peter & Christine, at Nine Standards

Nine Standards Rigg

Kirkby Stephen from Nine Standards

Whitsundale

Ravenseat

Wain Wath Force

Breakfast dispelled my initial impression that the hostess was somewhat remote: perhaps she’d had an off day yesterday. The meal was good and eaten round a single large table with Gavin, from London, and his Canadian girlfriend, Kathy; together with a single, non-walking, guest. Gavin and Kathy had had a couple of days off, but were walking today over to Keld Lodge.

I started walking at about 09:15hrs on a bright, cool, dry morning and made good progress by Fell House on to the open moor. I knew Nine Standards was going to be wet; on my last visit to the hill, in early August 2008, the bogs had been epic – it was much wetter this year. I’d half considered following the bad weather route: staying with the bridleway and dropping down to the road from Nateby, but that seemed like cheating: anyway, the day was improving. Over the hill I went.

I’d read that Julia Bradbury (God bless her little, cotton, walking socks) was following up her “Wainwright Walks” series for BBC4 with a series documenting the Coast to Coast Walk. It was only after chatting with someone that I realised that the “striking young woman” in the Black Bull last night was her. Bugger…

I was quite pleased with my progress; much quicker than my last visit, with few, if any, stops during the long pull to the summit. Whilst congratulating myself I spotted the Aussies trotting up the hill behind me and rapidly closing the gap. Pretty fit them there Aussies! They caught me up at the big cairns.

The views from the top were good and extensive, but perhaps a shade hazier than they'd been on my last visit. We were soon joined by others, including the Geezers and the Whitby duo. It was very, very damp, with frequent and entertaining bog hopping. The groups leapfrogged each other for much of the rest of the day.

I can’t better the description of the descent towards Swaledale than that of last August; “The walk down Whitsun Dale is muddy; in places a morass of semi-liquid peat. The surroundings are sombre, lonely and magnificent”.

We stopped for an alfresco tea and scone at Ravenseat. What a splendid spot for a tea break. The farmer’s wife was busy serving a steadily growing collection of mud streaked refugees from the tops. She was friendly and chatty. Yet more Julia gossip: she was filming in the barn tomorrow (Ravenseat’s wet weather café).

After the farm the dale gets greener, softer and ever more striking; the Dales at their brilliant best. I was at Keld Lodge by about 15:30hrs. The Aussies were walking another two or three miles to their B&B at Muker. Never to be accused of taking the easy option, I later learnt that they had forsaken the riverside path for the much higher, rougher, but superb Pennine Way route via Thwaite.

Whatever one might think of the YHA selling their Keld Hostel, its successor, although not cheap, is very good indeed, with an excellent bar, restaurant and comfortable rooms. The early finish left plenty of time for a laundry session, utilising the Lodge’s drying room, and a snooze before a memorable meal.

The Geezers and Gavin and Kathy were also resident, together with other C2C walkers not previously encountered. I lingered after supper over a non-alcoholic lager or two, chatting with Gavin before retiring to a comfortable bed and a good night’s kip.

Accommodation:

Keld Lodge
Keld
Richmond
N Yorkshire
DL11 1LL
01748 886259


Despite my prejudices against the YHA’s decision to sell the building, Keld Lodge is very good, if a bit pricey. The owners also now own and operate Butt House. Although Butt House is run as a separate business they have something approaching a monopoly of accommodation provision in the hamlet; an important crossroads of Long Distant Paths.