A Walk Across England – The Coast 2 Coast

THE COAST 2 COAST –  WALK ACROSS ENGLAND.

I’m off on another adventure, this time walking the 305 kilometres of Alfred Wainwrights Coast to Coast trail. (C2C). I start in the stunning little village of St Bees and over the next few weeks will arrive at Robin Hoods Bay. I brought with me a pebble and a shell from my beach at home. It is customary to pick up a pebble from St. Bees on the shores of the Irish Sea and carry it on your journey and then throw it into the North Sea when arriving at Robin Hoods Bay. I did one better and brought my own, I thought I would leave a little bit of me on the shores of this beautiful coastline. It is also customary to wet your boots in the Irish Sea before starting off on your adventure.

Today was delightful, walking along the cliffs looking out to sea. Our company every now and then were the sheep and cattle who have the best view to graze from. Not quite sure if I would like to graze here in Winter though.

 

 

I am amazed at the cliffs as they drop suddenly down to the ocean, the colors of the red sandstone together with the purples, pinks and cream wildflowers also the green bracken as they touch the blue of the Irish Sea. It is simply stunning.

We head inland and travel along a quaint road edged with high bracken and wildflowers.  We stop for a bowl of soup at a very small village pub before heading across farmland and walking through sheep who are roaming around, many pregnant with lambs. Up and down stiles and through kissing gates we finally cross Stanley Pond. An area we were dreading but all dry for us today.

We were pleased that the weather was kind to us today but we could see rain clouds ahead as we enter the village of Moor Row where we will spend the night, go over our maps and directions before a tricky day tomorrow.

 

MOOR ROW TO ROWRAH.

Hmmm! What an interesting day it turned out to be. It started out lovely with the weather looking good, the tracks through the farms were exactly marked as my trusty Henry Stedman guide-book said. From each side of the path sheep were baa baa to each other although they couldn’t see each other through the bracken.

I made my way up through Cleator a sleepy little village and up towards Dent Hill. Passing Blackhow farm with its chooks and chickens running around freely and not at all concerned about the crazy walker passing through. Maybe they new something I didn’t .

The incline starts and I’m hiking on a forest trail before soon enough it turns into a very muddy narrow track  skirting a forest. Up I went slush,  slush and just as I thought I had a piece of dry grass to stand on oops down my boots went into the mud. I moved into the forest to avoid the mud and found it was so enchanting. It was like fairyland. Little mushrooms or toadstools scattered around the forest floor.

 

Looking further into the forest it was dark and intriguing, I wasn’t tempted to venture in though just in case I lost the trail.

Soon the forest cleared and Dent Hill was facing me. Straight up, with a stone wall on my right for my guide to follow. I could see the quick flowing mist starting to cover the top and before long I’m in the middle of it. The wind was howling through the trees and grasses. I was concentrating  not to lose the path. As I reached the top more mud and water to be traversed. With pole ready the only place to walk was on stones with their tops popping out of the water. It was very hard to keep balance as the wind had other ideas nearly blowing me over. The stones were the only place to walk as all around was bog.

Finally at the top, I took a picture of myself and declared this must be the top if not there is no one here to tell me any different. Up and over the stile at the deer fence I could see in front of me the steep descent down to the fell.

 

The grasses with their red stems and the purple wildflowers surrounding the hills were making a swishing noise as the wind whipped around us. Once again the colors were beautiful.

The climb down to the valley was steep, slow and steady was called for.

I was nearly to the bottom of the descent, the mist had cleared and as I stepped down over rocks, my foot slipped and down I went. Ouch ! It was the first time ever I have had a fall on a hike. A bit shook up, I checked myself out,   a piece out of my elbow, bruising that I’ll see tomorrow and a finger that was doubling in size as I looked at it. I moved on as not long to go and the rain is approaching. In fact down it comes… According to the map I was to have a stream on my left but what’s this I’m walking in, a river, no the overflow of the stream. I found out later that the area floods when it rains. We made our way for the last few kilometers on a very narrow path lined with wildflowers and bracken. The ferns and flowers were drunk with raindrops. their branches and flower heads leaning over to us as we walked through. As if I’m not wet enough. At last we see The Shepherd’s Arms our destination for pick up for our lodgings for the night. Before we ring for pick up a big bowl of soup and a glass of red to think about what an amazing day I had. A little bit of everything and the compass skills are improving.

Tomorrow I’m looking forward to staying at the Black Sail youth hostel the most remote accommodation on the C2C . Could be another interesting day!

HEADING TO THE BLACK SAIL YOUTH HOSTEL

 

Today wasn’t as eventful as planned. Leaving Ennerdale Bridge to walk around Ennnerdale Waters and then opting to walk the north side of the lake being dryer on the recommendations of the locals with comments “great day” 20 degrees and 30 percent chance of rain. Fabulous . The Ennerdale waters were beautiful, other walkers were using the south side track, feeling a bit smug thinking no bog on this side. Ha! So I thought, hitting the bracken and the rain within an hour. What happened to 20 degrees and 30 percent of rain. The bracken was so overgrown with added prickles from the nettles and getting more wet from the bracken than the rain.

Decision point arrived, go for the climb up onto High Craig and Scarth Gap and Haystacks before heading to our accommodation for the night Black Sail Hostel? As the mist settles over two-thirds of the mountains the decision was made, no Haystacks climb today. Before long a small cabin in a steep valley comes into view.

A spring certainly got in my step , getting closer and closer.
The highlight of the day was definitely staying at the Black Sail. Great little cabin with bunks beds enough for 16 in 3 rooms. A common room and kitchen. The door is always open and any walkers can pop in for a cuppa, leave a donation and on with their hike. A game of domino’s followed and before long everyone that was staying the night, a fun group arrived.

I love to stay in hostels. A wonderful meal was prepared by the hostel’s ranger and then with a glass of wine in hand everyone moved outside, a big black cow and a few sheep for company and we all watched the amazing sunset. Can’t get much better than this.

 

The end of a great day and evening. Tick the Black Sail off my bucket list.

BRING ON THE HAY STACKS

After a wonderful night at the Black Sail I awoke to beautiful sunshine and the ridge above was clear of mist, an ideal morning to tackle the 597m Hay Stack

Backtracking half a kilometre the ascent started. Stone steps winding its way up, not to hard and eventually coming to a plateau where you could see the trail from Scarth Gap which we would have walked yesterday comes in. What an amazing view from here over the lakes, mountains and valley’s.

Looking up, there is still  a climb or should I say scramble up the cliff face of the Hay Stacks, and often loosing the path, it was wonderful to see another hiker who we met the night before. She had climbed this several times and was a great guide to reach the top with.

Once at the top what a view. No wonder this is where Alfred Wainwright wanted his ashes scattered.

The rest of today was up and down through bog before the sharp descent down to the slate mine in Honister and further to our accommodation for the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A PLEASANT STROLL FROM GRASMERE, HMMM!

Wonderful farmland views all around as we  leave Grasmere the burial town of William Wordsworth, this morning. Stone walls making a patchwork of the landscape. Sure enough before to long the calf muscles are starting to feel a climb.

Looming ahead was High Craig and the mighty Helvellyn just under 3,000ft. Lots of little streams to cross over and of course wouldn’t you know it rocks till the end of the day. The path would often get lost amongst the larger rocks and if you looked up higher you could eventually see the path and head in that direction.

Up and up towards Grisedale Hause and Grisedale Tarn.

At the summit all of a sudden the wind blew up, so strong that at times it was very hard to keep balance, at this stage Helvellyn is out of the question to climb. Walking down past the Tarn onto the Grisedale Valley Route the wind deteriorated, becoming stronger and stronger. Crossing at the end of the Grisedale Tarn on small rocks I nearly went in as the wind lifted me along.

Heading down into the valley the rocks became quite large and balancing and pushing forward with the wind made it very difficult. The markings of the cairns along the way are a welcome sight just when you might be thinking oops wrong way.

At last on the green valley floor, following a river with beautiful trees and stone walls guiding us to Patterdale.

The  Patterdale Hotel is a welcome sight for tea and “the cake of the day ” before a few more kilometres onto tonight’s accomodation .  Also a laugh thinking how I wasn’t I blown off the mountain today.

Couldn’t leave without a favorite childhood poem as I leave Wordsworth country.

I wandered lonely as a cloud, That floats on high o’er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. William Wordsworth.

 

Patterdale to Bampton Grange

 

Waking apprehensively to the news of the weather I was pleasantly surprised to hear it was going to be a good day. For today is a big climb with no options but to go over the top of the 2,500 feet Kidsty Pike . Looking forward to the challenge.b After a hearty farmhouse breakfast we were soon back on the path again heading up of course.

Walking up ticking off Angle Tarn Pike, Buck Crag, Satura Crag, The Knott as we go.

Finally looking out for a cairn to guide me up to Kidsty Pike

The wind decided it would be a good idea to show up all the way from Ireland nearly blowing me off my feet. It was whipping across the mountain with a mighty force. With poles tightly held and stabbing into the ground at every step I was trying to keep myself upright. It took all my energy to stay on my feet. How exciting though.

Finally reaching the summit and with the wind made it a bit to scary to look over the edge trying to find the way down.  I knelt on the ground with my guide-book under my knee to stop it blowing away. Pages of my book flapping away, my jacket

With compass out and map the descent began. With a false sense of security walking down the lovely grassy path the descent began. The wind still whipping around but not as strong, ahead I could see the stones and craggy rocks waiting to greet me.

Poles weren’t the answer, it was more slide down on my bottom and grabbing the rock edges for support slowly down I go. Still unsure if the track was the right one and then around a corner at last, the Haweswater Reservoir came into sight, yahoo we are on the right track.

Making our way around the reservoir following a beautiful old rock wall, trees blowing in the breeze gently lifting their branches as we walked past, saying to themselves “I know you’re tired you don’t have to bend down I’ll lift my branches for you”. But the trail wasn’t finished with us yet!  Mud, bog and rocks joined us all the way along the waters edge. Hmmm will today every end?
Finally finished with the trail and now on a lovely narrow country road heading to Bampton Grange the end is near. The cows settling down for the night in the fields with the odd ” moo”, wild raspberries hanging over the rock walls ripe for the picking, yum.

Walking past an old chapel and on a table leaning next to it a local lady is selling potted plants and posies of flowers on the honour system. I put my one pound in the bag, I buy a bunch of sweet peas for my room for the night, the perfume is beautiful. Someone else will be able to enjoy them in the room in the coming days.

Lots of other walkers are staying here at the Crown and Mitre tonight, all recounting their stories of today’s walk, some have fallen and won’t be walking tomorrow, some are telling stories of getting lost, some have lost their maps and will have to buy new ones, all are only doing small distances tomorrow and others like me after a glass of red and great meal are ready for bed.

 

Bampton Grange to Shap

A guilt free day of indulgence today. A rest day.  After a wonderful sleep on a soft fluffy bed with my room still perfumed from my sweet peas I went down for a wonderful lazy breakfast. Several coffees later I’m off, heading to Shap, a very short day today of around 10 kilometres.

Mainly across fields with public access today, following a river on the right. I love local directions “just keep the river on the right then turn at the gate”. Several gates later I’m still following the river.

Getting from one field to another is usually a bit of fun. The stiles are either made of wood or stone. Some narrower than others.

One of the famous things about Shap is the Shap Abbey. Founded in 1199 by the St Norbert order. Unfortunately a bit of plundering by Henry viii, then locals to build houses and fences using the stone now leaves it in ruins. As I walk around it today, there is some work happening to stop it going further into decline.

The cultural part of day over and done with now for the indulgence . Through a few more paddocks arriving in Shap at lunchtime, the smell of the award winning Shap Chippy is irresistible, a piece of cod, chips and pickled onion go down a treat. Nearby tables of people were very interested in where we were from and our walk.

Next it was onto Abbey Coffee Shop for walnut cake and coffee.

Enough now, off to our accommodation for the best indulgence of the trip, a Bath and a Hairdryer, I can’t believe it. The guilt did show up later when I indulged in a chocolate for dinner. Oh well! I have been doing some serious climbing lately.

 

Shap to Kirkby Stephen

 

 

The last couple of days have not been to difficult, we are getting used to manoeuvring around rocks, mud and water. Unfortunately one day getting lost in the rain put a damper on the day but after a friendly welcome at our next B & B, shower and food, all is good with the world again. Little did we know what an exciting day was in stalled for us leaving Kirby Stevens for Keld. After a chat to a fell runner at breakfast, he said you have the perfect day to go over Hartley Fell on the blue route.  This would ensure a great view of the 9 standards rigg and terrific views. Sounds good. There are actually three routes to Keld (I might mention never trust a fell runner, they are crazy people, hurtling themselves up and down hills at breakneck speed.) The green route has a bit of road walking so we didn’t consider this. We could also make a descission  later up the trail if the mist came down in a hurry either red or blue routes.  The weather started off fine until three quarters up the path and down the mist and wind came. Quickly into our wet gear and beanies we continued up. Out of the shadows behind us came an escorted group heading to the top as well. By the time we all reached the top visibility was very poor.

There were a few quick photos taken and the guide asked me which route were we taking down and I said ” the red to now avoid the peat bog.” She also was considering this but after a quick chat she said she was going to take the blue route as she new that very well and would we like to join the group. Looking into the mist I considered it for half a second and said “we’re with you”. Like gorillas in the mist two more men , father and son who had been following us appeared.  All eleven of us set off in single file across the Hartley Fell heads down braced against the wind and not wanting to loose sight of each other.

Soon the bog appeared or what we thought was bog, I called it baby bog. The real peat bog soon appeared. I was following one of the group making sure I was standing in her footsteps. If she went down at least I would be warned. Every now and then you would hear yuk! Oh! As someone went down into the black, sludgy mud. The peat bog is not flat ground, it is large mounds coming out in front of you with enticing green patches lulling you into a false sense of security. Look at me I’m high ground , you can stand on me. Little do you know that just under the mound of lovely green is one big sludgy mess. We were nearly all running across the top of the bog, you couldn’t stand still as you would sink. The walking poles going down just as think they will support you. After a few map and compass checks by the guide we were through the bog and starting to see the 100 meter pole markings as the mist started lifting. We all had smiles across our faces and were totally exhilarated by the whole event.

All of a sudden the mist now was gone and the landscape opened up the whole valley and the Yorksire Moors. A big thanks to the guide Jane from Badger Adventures for a day I won’t forget in a hurry.

After lunch we realised the day wasn’t finished with us yet! Walking along the valley we discover a small landslide and so we had to walk straight up and around to avoid that. The path was extremely muddy, but we were past caring about keeping our boots clean and walked straight through it.

One good highlight of the day though was meeting Amanda Owen the Yorkshire Shepherdess. ( a book on her life is out now) On her remote Yorkshire farm with husband and eight children, dogs,chickens,cows and sheep they live a very remote life. But, the good thing is she offers scones, jam and cream with tea to walkers going through her farm. What a sweet treat to have while having a rest and recounting the last thrilling few hours before walking the last five or so kilometres into Keld.

 

Truly one of the best walking days I have ever experienced.

 

 

 

THE NORTH YORKSHIRE MOOR AWAITS!

After a few days of flat terrain, walking through fields as they are getting harvested it was finally nice to be back on the trail with hills in sight. Today the beautiful Heather of the North Yorkshire Moor will appear. It sure did make an appearance in all its glory. After a short sharp hill from our accommodation our first heather appears in Scarth Wood Moor.

Today we are following the Cleveland Way markers. Another walk in Britian that we will either walk parallel with or cross over on our journey on the C2C. The first few hours were spent walking through a beautiful old oak forest. Glorious branches reaching out above us enticing us further into the forest.

As we reach another steep climb we find ourselves on top of Carlton Moor, in front of us an amazing purple landscape.  Kilometre after kilometre of brilliant purple Heather stretches out as far as the eye could see.

After talking to a local who was out walking, we realise how lucky we are to have been walking at this time as she says the Heather is at its peak. We stop on the top of Carlton Moor and lay on the grass looking at a beautiful view of the green and yellow patchwork fields below us, the fluffy white clouds against the brilliant blue sky and further to the horizon our first glimpse of the North Sea where we will visit in a few days time.

Shoes back on after our lunch stop and to our surprise a few more sharp climbs are waiting for us. One of the most spectacular climbs was towards Wain stones. A very rocky outcrop one of Wainwrights favourite spots. The Heather just doesn’t stop. Up and around the steep slopes it covers the moors like a purple blanket.

Scrambling over rocks and bracken we get to the other side and are pleased to see our track, a very steep descent down into Clay Bank Top where a driver will pick us up for our stay at the Buck Inn in Chop Gate. A lot of pubs, hotel and B & B if they are off the trail will offer a pick up service from the trail and then in the morning will drop you back at the same place. After dinner and a few drinks with the locals it was a terrific end to a very stunning day.

 

The Buck Inn to the Lion Inn

 

Another day of walking through the magnificent Heather on the North Yorkshire Moor is installed for us today.  Leaving the Buck Inn at Chop Gate there was a short steep climb to start with.  It  was a very easy walking stage along the ridge of the Cleveland Hills following an old mining railway line.

The wind is up today and taking out it’s vengeance on us. The Grouse are also out and about today. First I could hear them with their quite distinct call and then watching carefully through the Heather out they come crossing over the path. One time it was one, next a couple then seven walk across the path, a couple of them having  a bit of sibling rivalry, sparing each other. They are a very attractive bird and it is wonderful to read that there is no shooting in this area, unlike other areas we have walked through.As I turn and look backwards I can see the hills that were climbed yesterday. With the wind whipping up I wasn’t the only one to have a bad hair day.

With the walking day being only a short one we soon have the Lion Inn in our sights, just as the rain and mist softly make an appearance. We can smell the open fire as we climb the last little hill to the entrance of the Pub. As the door opens the warmth and friendliness welcomes you with open arms. People sitting eating, others at the bar having a beer and conversations. Owners with their well behaved dogs sitting around tables. None of the dogs take any notice of each other.

 

The low overhanging beams adding such character to the intricate maze of rooms. I find myself sitting up at the bar trying out a few testers of beers before deciding on Yorksire Lager. The coziness  and atmosphere certainly a highlight of this pub, in fact pub life seems to be a huge part of village life here on the C2C. We have found walkers, locals and travellers all mixing in together, conversations getting louder and louder as the night goes on.

The pubs on the C2C are a wonderful place for Coasters to share their day, their aches and pains, blister stories etc, with fellow walkers.

 

Blakey Ridge to Littlebeck

The view on waking  this morning was of mist and the thought of road walking for the first couple of kilometres was not an exciting prospect but off we go, coats, beanie and gloves and into the cold we go. Our first little stop was a visit to Fat Betty, tradition goes that you take a snack and leave a snack for the next walker. Honestly I think it is just a place to rid yourself of the muesli bars that you having been carrying for 2 weeks that you never will eat.

The wind was still howling around us but thankfully the mist had lifted. The scenery again today was of narrow tracks and beautiful Heather.

 

The Grouse and the sheep were also out in abundance.

 

Tonight we are staying in a farm hostel and they don’t serve evening meals, so the plan was to have a late lunch and snacks for tea. As the farm is a little way out of town the owner will do pick ups up from a pub called Arncliffe Arms Glaisdale and drop us back the following morning. At this point on the day just kept getting better and better. We stop at the pub for lunch and it was just like the television show Faulty Towers. As walkers came in and out, locals all a mix mash of people it was a comedy in motion. Time to head to the farm and after a call and 15 mins later this small red farm Range Rover comes to a holt. Hi and a wave , we get in. The lady says to me ” side saddle or put your leg over ” the gears are in the middle. No seat belts and with a crunch of the gears we’re off. At the farm we meet a young girl from Spain who is over here to learn English. The owner says she is going to have an afternoon sleep as her husband is away and she has been bailing the hay by herself. No worries we’ll catch up on the Olympics having seen none. Later, a knock on the door  it’s the neighbour. The Bulls in the wrong paddock. The Spainsh girl calls the owner they both go running down to the paddock and try and herd her cows to entice the bull back into its rightful paddock. The bull having none of this. After some time it gives up and returns to where it belongs, tail between its legs and looking a bit sad and sorry. ( Sorry no photos of this event.)

Wondering what to do with ourselves tonight the owner comes to us and asks if we would like to go to a concert in the local church. Hmm why not! As we are leaving the driveway cows are wandering about and one of them is carrying in its mouth a bucket with food. Help yourself applies here apparently. Down to the very old village church and who should be playing but a brass band of five men from India. As we walk in I hear the owner saying to the Spainish girl ,” you will get to see a typical English village church tonight” Not quite sure how typical it is for a band from India playing in a tiny Yorkshire village church is though. Two hours later we are all clapping having a great time, not knowing what we are clapping or singing about in general. But all good fun.

All over and guess what? The band is coming back for Dinner. Back in the car we go, Indian Band in tow a few more songs while eating and we are in bed counting sheep after a very interesting day of contrast. What a day Heather, Grouse, Sheep, Manuel, gear grating farm truck, randy bull, cow with a bucket, Indian brass band and yes a hedgehog crossing a cattle grate. Who said walking was boring.

 

 

 

THE FINAL DAY WALKING ACROSS ENGLAND

As always as I get to the last day of any long distant walk it is bitter-sweet. I miss the family so I am always itching to get home. On the other hand the solitude of walking restores who I am as a person. Leaving Littlebeck and the farm where we stayed we walk into the beautiful forest . Today is the first time we have actually set out in the rain. It’s wonderful, I believe a fitting last day. The weather has been so kind over the last 21 days and after hearing stories from other Coasters about the weather we have been extremely lucky.

As I walk along with the pit-a-pat of the rain on my coat, the thump, thump of the boots, the kilometres are getting closer and closer to Robin Hoods Bay. Nearer and nearer I get to the North Sea and there it is, in front of me as I look across the purple heather covered moor across the fields down to the abbey in Whitby.  I turn right at the cliff and beautiful sunshine appears as I look beyond to Robyn Hoods Bay. The gulls are calling and I’m nearly there!

 

 

Memories are coming back now of the night spent at the Black Sail, one that I will never forget. The climb up the haystacks, thinking what the heck! All the climbs were well worth the huff and puff up to the top for the spectacular views. I will never forget hopping across the peat bog on the blue route out of Kirby Stephens. The Heather on the Moor, breathtaking . The animals cows, sheep, grouse and the ones I didn’t see like the red squirrel all added a laugh to my day. But with any walk it’s the like-minded people you meet on the walks, the conversations in the Pubs or by the side of the road as you eat your packed lunch made with love. Walking in England certainly is alive and well. It’s hard to avoid someone walking around with a map hanging around their neck. It was also wonderful to meet people like Ritchie and Jane from Badger Adventures who are not only running great walks but teaching people to care for the environment . My pet hate is that of women who think they can leave tissues behind any bush along any trail. Two plastic bags girls one for new toilet paper and one for used. Empty when you get to your destination, otherwise bring a small trowel. Wonderful to meet a team of young people at the end in Robin Hoods Bay www.crosstheuk.com who are very enthusiastic about walking and encouraging people to get out there and walk.

I have loved this walk, I encourage those that would like to do the C2C, don’t rush it, take your time and love every moment that it gives you. I took with me Henry Stedman guide to Coast to Coast and found it a wonderful easy reference to follow. Now the only thing to decide  is whats the next one!