Glaisdale to Robin Hoods Bay

The Toll Bar, Egton Bridge

The Sherwood Forrester

The last moor, Graystone Hills

Nearly there: Sarah, Jo's hubby, Chris, Jo and Pete

Robin Hood's Bay

The slipway

Wednesday 17 September 2008

(Walking Distance: 18.5 miles)

Dad’s Army had left early after a buffet breakfast. I didn’t see them again. I, however, enjoyed the best breakfast of the walk: a Whitby kipper.

Peter, whom I’d met in the pub last night, was going to have a leisurely day. After walking from St Bees he was content to finish 15 or 16 miles from Robin Hood’s Bay to take a ride on a stream train operated along the North York Moors Railway, before catching another, conventional, train home.

It must have been raining overnight, the path through Arncliffe Wood was sodden and muddy underfoot; the morning was cool and misty. The woods, as always, were beautiful.

I met a couple of American ladies walking along the old toll road beyond Egton Bridge. They were having a slow walk to Littlebeck and they too were contemplating a ride on the steam railway. They’d thoroughly enjoyed the trail after getting over the shock of the Lake District: they’d found the mountains tough and intimidating.

I’d been surprised how many walkers, foreign and domestic, had apparently done insufficient research and underestimated the demands of the C2C, particularly those of the first few days (I wonder what happened to the Israeli lads…).

When I got to Grosmont I felt I should make some minor concession to the railway mania: I had tea and a scone in the railway café. The 'Sherwood Forrester' was steaming up as I supped my brew. Peter clamber aboard; the ladies dithered over buying tickets and missed the proverbial bus.

The walk up the lane from Grosmont onto Sleights Moor is one last shock to the system: 1:3 in parts and more than a mile long. I was happy to note that I only needed a couple of short “photo stops” before cresting the ridge: much better than my last attempt.

I paused for a break besides the stream at Littlebeck and considered my options. The walk along May Beck is scenic and rewarding. It is one I’ve done several times, not least on my last C2C trip. The path, however, is muddy and veers wildly from the obvious, direct route to the coast. An alternative route to the B1416 and Graystone Hills is available along a single track lane. This option saves 1.5 miles and a lot of mud paddling and bog trotting.

Sad to say, I took the lane.

I met Devon Brian as he emerged on to the road from Sneaton Low Moor. I walked with him across the last moor of the walk, Greystone Hills. The final acres of heather and bog are just as wet and cloying as any met thus far, and the route finding more difficult than most. The Honeymooners breezed past as we came off the moor, the exertions of the trip having taken no discernible toll…

We stopped for a final break on the bench at High Hawsker. Brian walked on ahead after donating much of his packed lunch: he has an eating disorder which, fortunately for me, restricts his diet. I was about to follow when the Aussies and the Manchester Ladies crossed the road.

And so we walked together to the cliff. It was fitting that I should finish the walk with the best of the companions met along the way.

One final surprise: Jo’s husband appeared from the direction of Robin Hood’s Bay fully equipped with champagne and glasses. The Nantwich couple caught up just in time to polish off the dregs.

The last mile of the walk and the subsequent celebration was, as is always the case at the end of a long walk, something of an anti-climax. Still, the half hour session outside the Bay Hotel was entertaining: the Whitby Duo and the Honeymooners were already there. Most were staying overnight.

I said my awkward goodbyes, walked back up the hill and met my lift for home. It had been a good walk.

Urra (Clay Bank Top) to Glaisdale

Tuesday 16 September 2008

(Walking Distance: 19 miles)

Bilsdale

Close-up of Roseberry Topping

The Hand Stone, Round Hill

The Face Stone, Round Hill

The iron stone railway

Fat Betty

Great Fryup Dale Head

Breakfast lived up to Maltkiln House’s standards: more good food in convivial surroundings.

One of the Oxford chaps, nothing if not a purist, insisted on them both retracing their steps to Clay Bank Top before resuming the walk eastwards along the Wainwright route. I was content to take a path from behind Maltkiln House to the intake edge before striking across the moor to regain the conventional course at Round Hill.

I got off to an eight thirty start but only managed to walk a few yards before meeting Mr Broad working in a recently felled plantation: it was pushing nine o’clock when we eventually parted.

It was a cool, dull, but fine and clear day; ideal walking weather. The light had a magical quality for the first hour of the walk, rendering the moor in a subdued pastel shades.

After the initial steep pull onto the tops it was easy going in bleak but splendid surroundings.

I walked alone all day, meeting occasional walkers including a couple of solo hikers heading west to St Bees.

If today’s walk can be criticised it is because it is a little too easy underfoot, particularly after joining the track bed of the old ironstone railway. The walk is familiar, being on across my nearest high ground. It runs across a flat upland plateau with views down into the many valleys which dissects the moor. Whilst the landscapes, sounds and smells of the moor are appealing, the actual walking tends towards the tedious after a few miles.

The long anticipated sight of the Lion Inn on the horizon was welcome indeed. I reached it well before midday. Dad’s Army were already ensconced in the bar. They’d stayed at Great Broughton overnight and had had another early breakfast-free start. They too were heading for Glaisdale.

At the Fat Betty cross I got chatting to a biker out for a blast from South Yorkshire. He’d backpacked the C2C ten years ago and was hankering after a repeat expedition, next time using B&Bs.

I met the Whitby Duo near Great Fryup Head. Dad had had a night at home and had got his knee patched up by his wife, a nurse. After being fed and watered he was again on the trail; hail if not quite hearty. It would have been dreadful to have walked so far and have to retire with the finishing post almost in view.

Rain threatened during the easy but enjoyable hike above Great Fryup Dale and along the long declining ridge north of Glaisdale. It never quite materialised. There was an adder on the road just before the track at Glaisdale Rigg; fresh, but squashed into the tarmac. It was the second adder I’ve seen on the Moors; the previous one was seen basking on a rock in the sunshine on the moor near Goathland a couple of years ago - whilst hardly more animated, that one was somewhat rounder.

I was booked into a very comfy room at the Arncliffe Arms by 16:00 hrs. I’d stayed here years ago when the rooms were small and basic. Now the rooms were large, en-suite, well appointed and warm. The restaurant was probably the best on the walk.

My feet remained blister free.

The clans gathered at the Glaisdale pub for a very agreeable evening: the Aussies, Dad’s Army and the Oxford men were there, together with Peter, an elderly solo walker from the Wirral, and a pleasant couple from Nantwich who I’d met earlier in the day along the old railway, and later in the Lion.

The Aussies had had a very easy day from Blakey Ridge but, true to form, had filled in the afternoon with a walk along much of Eskdale.

The locals must get heartily sick of the C2C banter being replayed by different groups every night of the walking season. I thoroughly enjoyed it…

Accommodation:

Arncliffe Arms

1 Arncliffe Terrace

Glaisdale

N Yorkshire

YO21 2QL

01947 897555

Not the cheapest, but one of the best stops on the route.

Ingleby Cross to Urra (Clay Bank Top)

Monday 15 September 2008

(Walking Distance: 13 miles)

Carlton Moor top towards Cringle Moor

From Cringle Moor towards Roseberry Topping

Carleton Moor from Cringle Moor

Cold Moor

Hasty Bank from Cold Moor

The Wainstones

I was the only C2C walker at breakfast.

Today was another of those crossover days where differing schedules across the Vale of Mowbray and onwards across the moors introduced new faces or impose farewells.

The crossing of the North York Moors to the sea is usually tackled in three days. The topography dictates an itinerary of two long and one short leg. The problem is where to place the short leg. There are possible stopovers in the areas around Clay Bank Top and Blakey Ridge, along the Esk valley between Glaisdale and Grosmont, and, for a half day final leg, at Littlebeck.

The dozen miles along the escarpment of the Cleveland Hills to Clay Bank Top rates alongside the best walking of the entire route: an exhilarating switchback which, despite rising little higher than 1300 feet, has a cumulative ascent of around 2,700 feet. It’s a shame to rush it. The one available on-route accommodation near Clay Bank (albeit with a minor route variation) is at Urra: Maltkiln House - a stopover we’d used on our first Coast to Coast.

It’s another nine miles, a good three hours of easy walking, to the Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge. We’d taken that option on our second C2C: it is a long way, but at this stage of the holiday, with increased fitness levels, is comfortably achievable, with the advantage of leaving an easy penultimate day to the Grosmont area.

I’d booked accommodation at Urra: it was the short day for me today, followed by longer days to Glaisdale and the sea.

By 09:00hrs I was walking steeply uphill through the forest to Beacon Hill. I passed the Whitby Duo on the long pull up to the Cleveland Way path from where there were magnificent, if somewhat hazy, views across the plain east towards the Pennines and northwards along the line of the escarpment towards Middlesbrough…from this distance not at all hideous.

I caught up with the Aussies and the Manchester Ladies at a bench above Scugdale. They were slacking, taking an early breather; all had had a long day yesterday, bless ‘em. We walked in a loose group to the Lord Stones café at Carlton Bank, Jo giving another impressive demonstration on “How to climb hills quickly without getting out of puff”.

I’d heard about the Honeymooners. I first met them when they arrived at the café; she with tight shorts and long, tanned legs: another reason to celebrate the improved weather. They’d married in the Registry Office at Whitehaven, the driver of the taxi from Ennerdale Bridge had acted as a witness. The Coast to Coast walk was the honeymoon.

The others were walking to the Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge so I waved them on their way whilst I settled down to enjoy a rare (for me) chip butty, followed by a slow walk to Urra.

The Whitby Duo called at the café. Dad was looking somewhat crestfallen. His knee was playing up and it seemed he would walk no further than Clay Bank Top where they were being picked up for a night at home in Whitby. The son intended to complete the walk solo.

The remaining miles were magnificent. Hasty Bank rates as my favourite “little hill”. I remember being there one day, shortly after I’d hiked the Pennine Way; the air was crystal clear and the long purple line of the Pennines was arrayed on the horizon. On that day the golf ball shaped radar installation on the summit of Great Dun Fell and the nearby Cross Fell were clearly visible.

It wasn’t quite that clear today, but the swallows, hunting insects and playing on the thermals above the precipice, made this afternoon’s hill-top sojourn just as memorable.

I’d glimpsed some sort of large raptor on the col beneath the Wainstones. My first thoughts were that it might have been a Red Kite, although I’ve not read of them being in this area: it was more probably a buzzard.

I met Brian on Hasty Bank. He was a solo walker from Devon characterised by an immense map case and, despite using a baggage transfer service, a grossly overfilled rucksack – if you needed anything from a needle to a bivi bag there was at least one in Brian’s bag. His main hobby was letterboxing on Dartmoor (nothing sexual, it’s a cross between treasure hunting and orienteering apparently). Brian is a fortunate soul; a bookkeeper by trade who finds his work interesting, challenging and stimulating. A kindred spirit…

The mile or so from Clay Bank Top to Urra was along footpaths, at first paralleling the road, then by way of a short steep-sided valley. Although I’d had a lazy afternoon I still arrived at Maltkiln House before four to a warm and genuine welcome. On our first visit in 1994 the Broads had just started their business. They had photographed us then, along with their other early guests: my early incarnation, along with that of Rita, and our American friends Laurie, Larry and Lita, was still displayed in a rouges gallery by the entrance.

My room at Maltkiln House was on the first floor. The floor was shared with a guest lounge and a bathroom – almost a little flat. I was joined in the lounge by a personable and interesting couple, Kate and Peter (he a retired Bank Manager) from Stratford. They were currently walking the Cleveland Way but had walked many of the English long distance walks. Included in past honours was a walk along the Yorkshire Wolds Way, a rare distinction.

Dinner was an enjoyable and sociable affair. Mr Broad went through his well rehearsed mini-lecture on the history and archaeology of the area before a splendid three course dinner. Another couple of C2Cers were staying, an apparently ill-matched pair of men from Oxford: or perhaps they just enjoyed arguing and correcting each other at every turn. They’d had a longer then expected day having walked to Urra from Lovesome Hill on the A167: about twenty miles. The route planner got some stick from his mate…

It was an entertaining evening.

Accommodation:

Maltkiln House

Urra

Chop Gate

Middlesbrough

N Yorkshire

TS9 7HZ

01642 778216

Malkiln House is a highly recommended stopover: quirky, comfortable, unique.

Hutton-le-Hole, Rosedale, Lastingham, Spaunton Walk (03/08/2008)

I had an early (for me) start. I had driven the forty miles or so to Hutton-le-Hole and was on Spaunton Moor before eleven: just in time to be soaked in a heavy shower. The heather was just beginning to flower; adding interest to what can be a bleak scene.

I had intended to take a beeline over Access Land, from the point where the trail meets the Rosedale road, to visit Anna Cross. Whilst the cross is quite close, I retreated from the attempt, driven back to the road after floundering in rough and boggy ground.

Chimney Bank was busy with car and cycle borne visitors and a smattering of other walkers. I took the old sled way, associated with long gone iron stone mining, down into Rosedale. The track gets lost in a jungle of bracken in the lower section of the descent at this time if the year but the course is obvious, if a little awkward.

I joined a bridleway which took me downriver. It is a glorious trail through the moor and bracken, staying well above the western bank of the River Seven. The eastern side is thickly forested with the road hidden from sound and view. There were plenty of rabbits about, but I’ve seen deer and a fox in this area on previous visits.

The path passes the site of an Elizabethan glass works, marked by a plaque. A reconstruction of the works can be seen at the Ryedale Folk museum at Hutton-le-Hole. To the untutored eye, however, there's nothing much to see. Like the ironstone industry the remains have melted back into the landscape. It is fascinating to consider, though, that this lonely and peaceful spot was a hive of industry in the sixteenth century and that the whole dale, surely one of the most interesting and scenic of the Moors valleys, was riven by mining and industry up until less than a century ago.

Just beyond Hartoft I left the bridleway to take the Lastingham path over the moor and into the village. Lastingham is a pretty village with a good pub and a fascinating church. I visited neither, but took the steep woodland path up the Tabular Hills escarpment and on into Spaunton.

The geology of the Tabular Hills is limestone, as distinct from the sandstone and shale of the moors. The land is sweet and productive, growing barley and wheat at a similar elevation to much of the lower moorland. The contrast is complete and sudden. From a walker’s viewpoint, however, the interest around Spaunton is entirely in the view across to the moors.

Hutton-le-Hole had got busy whilst I’d been away. Fortunately most don’t wander too far from the cafes and pub and Folk Museum. There had been others walking and some mountain biking, but, for the most part, I’d had the paths to myself.

The walk was about eleven miles, including my aborted attempt to visit Anna Cross, and was mainly on good moorland tracks, but with added interest from a couple of wooded sections. It presented no fitness, foot or stamina problems. I should be increasing mileage on my walks though; the C2C is only a month away.

Forge Valley, Hackness Walk (27 July 2008)

Probably the hottest day of the year so far saw me heading for the nearest chunk of the North York Moors National Park – Forge Valley.

I parked at West Ayton, a village about three miles west of Scarborough. I saved the path by Ayton Castle for the return leg, to use the higher way along the top of the western side of the valley. The path runs pleasantly above the steep valley, dipping into the edge of the wood.

Rather than constantly referring to the map I used my preferred method of scanning the route at the start of the walk and keeping the map in the rucksack for occasional reference at points of doubt. The problem with this approach is that it is easy to be beguiled by clear well-used paths which wander off the intended right of way. And so I was…

Forge Valley is a National Nature Reserve and furnished with tracks off the established rights of way. I happily wandered along one such track before realising my mistake. Not to worry, there were other, wilder and narrower ways, one furnished, initially, with duck boarding, heading in my intended direction.

The next half mile took the best part of an hour. I traversed the steep, in places precipitous, side of the valley, constantly deviating around fallen trees and branches, patches of deep mire and loose, muddy and unstable ground. It was an entertaining interlude in the hot, humid air, beset by voracious insects intent on feasting on my now bloody arms. It was a training walk after all.

I eventually rejoined the main track and continued on a more sedate course towards Hackness, passing the idyllic hamlet of Wrench Green. The Derwent valley, from the river’s source by the Fylingdales Early Warning station, to Forge Valley, is probably my favourite Moor’s dale and certainly one of the area’s most scenic.

After flirting with the river for a short while I took the path high behind Hackness Mere and Hall. I sat for a while with my boots off, socks steaming, munching a banana and apple, making a fine contrast to the pampered souls lounging in the gardens of the house below.

After dropping down to the valley bottom at Hackness, the path annoyingly climbs through a narrow, tree-lined gully, to regain the considerable lost height. Near the top a large tree had recently dropped, blocking further progress along the path: another inelegant jostle, up, over and round the obstacle ensued before gaining the hill top.

The path down to Mowthorpe Farm is a delight, dropping down through more woods and pasture to the road. There is no real alternative but to use the lane back to Forge Valley, but it is quiet and in magnificent surroundings. It is hard to believe that Scarborough, no doubt heaving on a hot summer Sunday, is only two or three miles to the east.

After a mile or so the lane is abandoned and the river is crossed by a footbridge to take an easy duck-boarded path downstream, through the woods, passing Ayton Castle, back to the village and car.

The walk was about ten miles long. It was much more demanding than I’d intended because of the heat and the adventure in the woods, but highly enjoyable nonetheless. Apart from the valley bottom path at Forge Valley, where there were strollers aplenty, I didn’t see another walker all day.

Rosedale Outing

I’ve had a critical review of my slim prospects for successfully completing the C2C without some serious preparation. A day off with fair weather prospects saw me Rosedale bound to renew acquaintance with a favourite walk using the old ironstone railway. After gear shopping in Pickering, I eventually set out from Rosedale Abbey at lunchtime.

My route lead up the small tributary valley of North Dale.

After crossing the Bell Top ridge, I progressed through woodland, arriving back into Rosedale proper.

















The walk joins the track bed of the old ironstone railway near the remains of mining activity at East Mines and contours northwards towards the dale head. It’s over eighty years since the mines and railway finally closed after years of decline. What must have once been tremendous scars on the valley are now gently melting back into the hillside and remain as interesting archeological and historical footnotes; impressive, but seemingly as remote from today as Hadrian's Wall.













Farming, however, is eternal…






The track bed deteriorates for a mile or so around the dale head and the landscape takes on a bleak and barren feel.

The roads here cross the moorland plateau a couple of hundred feet above the course of the railway. Walkers, doubtless Coast to Coasters, could be seen walking on the road over Blakey Ridge, ignoring a perfectly good, marginally shorter path, across the dale head.



After passing a second track side ruined shed it was decision time: whether to visit the Lion Inn. In the event, I’d plenty of liquid and was running a little slower than anticipated, so I reluctantly plodded on.

I’d only met two pairs of walkers and a mountain biker before arriving at Blakey Junction, where the track nears the road. For twenty yards either side of the access track from the car park there was a veritable scrum of a dozen souls admiring the impressive views of the dale. A few paces later birdsong returned and only one further couple was met before Chimney Bank.

The miles to Chimney Bank go quickly, with little to divert one’s attention from the view until Sheriff’s Pit, a long abandoned mine. The shaft is said to be 250 foot deep and is protected only by a wire fence. The footings of buildings can be traced, but only a fragment of wall remains.

An alternative path, difficult to trace on the ground, but with an obvious course, leaves the pit to the hamlet of Thorgill. A mix of lane and path then provide a slightly shorter, but an arguably more varied, route back to Rosedale Abbey.



Whilst becoming a little tedious underfoot the main route doesn’t disappoint visually, with extensive views along the valley,
















and across to the outward route through North Dale.



Eventually I arrived at Chimney Bank.



Somehow I missed the path down into the village and took the knee pounding 1:3 lane down the hill.

Today’s walk was my first decent walk for some time. It was very enjoyable. I averaged somewhat under 3 mph, including a couple of breaks, but did not have any serious foot problems. I experimented a bit with footwear and found that a Thorlos liner sock, worn only on my smaller right foot, under a pair of Thorlos Light Hiking socks was the most comfortable combination.

I tried my new Berghaus Freeflow rucksack, Thurlos flask and a Sigg water bottle, all bought en-route to Rosedale, and everything performed well. My Low Alpine dryflo briefs ensured that important little places remained comfy in what was fairly warm weather.

Milage: about 13 miles.

All things considered, not a bad day out.