Richmond and Clean Socks

Days 11 & 12: Reeth to Richmond + rest day (easy walking through fields and forests, one short easy ascent)

After ten days and about 130 miles, we rambled into Richmond in North Yorkshire early Tuesday

First view of Ricmond from the hills above

afternoon.  It was our earliest arrival day yet, not at all coincidental to the two-day break Richmond promises.  Even without a calendar, I would have known we'd reach Richmond today as I unrolled my last pairs of clean socks and liners in Reeth.  While we do most of our trail washing in sinks, tubs and showers en route, the business of cleaning and drying woolen socks and liners overnight is nearly impossible.  At our B&B in Richmond, laundry service is available for a very reasonable 7 pounds!  So, as our socks dry, we're resting our feet at the Willance House in the village center.

The Willance House is the oldest remaining house in Richmond, known for the adventures of its first owner, Robert Willance, apparently remembered for having survived a cliff leap atop his horse (which, sadly, died).  The house is charming, the hosts delightful and the breakfast perhaps the best of the trek so far (how lucky are we to be able to enjoy it twice?).

Emerald C2C path through a pasture

Yesterday's eleven-mile path that brought us to Richmond was marked quite clearly and traversed easy walking terrain through a couple of lovely forests and many miles of farmer's fields.  Again I marveled at the emerald paths years of C2Cers have grooved into the fields -- encouraging drainage and keeping the path better watered than the rest of the field.  Throughout the fields the wooly Swaledale sheep continued to be our nearly constant company, now along with a hardier (noticeably stockier) breed, which has been introduced to fortify the stock.

It seems our rest timing may be quite lucky as it is raining out today.  Yesterday we experienced several showers heavy enough to cause us to take cover.  While I donned my rain jacket repeatedly, Cliff employed his trekking umbrella with ease and no small measure of flourish.  For the record, I did use my umbrella on the streets of Glasgow before leaving Scotland, but it now is nestled deep in my duffle (just feels a little awkward to me).

As you may imagine, Cliff has taken hundreds of photos at this point.  And while I've not been able to preview all of them, he does put a goodly number on a card for immediate use in the blog.  This photo of blue doors on an old farm we passed yesterday in Higher Applegarth is one of my very favorites.

For today, we're bootloose and fancy free.  More from the trail soon!

The Road Less Traveled

Day 10: Keld to Reeth

It was hard to bid farewell to Jacqui, Chris and Scamp, our warm and gracious hosts from the Butt (pronounced boot) House.  Cliff and I agreed these were hosts we would love to have as neighbors and pals.  And Scamp, well he would fit right in with the Boltz pack!

Today presented another high route/low route choice -- and having so loved the high routes in the Lakes District, we decided to go high once again.  Parting ways with many walkers at the route junction, we realized we were taking the road less traveled . . . Our route would take us high over the hills to Reeth (our destination today),  The low road in this case wound through the verdant valley below.

Before the path divided, we had the great pleasure to walk and chat with for a time with twins Jim and Peter from Birmingham, England.  The brothers have been taking long-distance walking holidays together each year since retiring (both former school teachers) in 2000.

At 70+ they were keeping quite pace, and we watched them pause at the juncture, before continuing on to the valley. Knowing Peter had completed the track before, I wondered how they made their decision as we headed up to the ruins of the 1800s lead mills above.  What did they know that we didn't?

Our high route took on altitude quickly across a rock fall, then along a lovely beck with a series of waterfalls above.  At first we thought we had the trail to ourselves.  Then we saw a group of young climbers above us, resting on a grassy area beside the falls. Continuing up the path, we met them at merged trails and learned they were all working toward their Duke of Edinburgh (D of E) award.

A voluntary program for youths aged 14-24, the D of E requires youth complete components of volunteering, physical effort, skills development, and an expedition (what the group we met were doing). Completing the program at the highest level earns participants valuable credits toward university admission.  What a great program!  We were trying to think what we may have that is similar in the US.  Maybe scouting?

Leaving the D of E group, we walked for a short time each with a couple of solo C2Cers (both English) as the day and terrain grew progressively more gray.  Winding our way through various smelt mill ruins, we finally reached the area Wainwright described as the wasteland, where the earth was left jagged and scarred from mining and quarries.

The trail trickled up and down to Reeth without much to recommend it.  Happily in the moors below the smelt mills, we saw grouse.  However, they were so fleet of foot as to be impossible to photograph on this day.  Our thought -- this is probably a good day to enjoy a valley walk, unless you have some historical interest in 19th Century mining operations!

What Bog?

Day 9: Kirkby Stephens to Keld

Nine Standards day and it's all about the bogs, about the bogs (no trouble) -- thanks Meghan Trainor😉.  Except, due to a droughty season, there was no bog in the bog.  

The Nine Standards, a bit of an archeological mystery, are nine expertly built and irregularly shaped

cairns along a ridge in the Pennines.  Although the true history of the cairns is undetermined, one supposition (perhaps as good as any) is that the cairns were erected as decoys to worry the army of Bonnie Prince Charles.  Another, less romantic notion is that they stand as county boundaries.  Take a look, you decide.

Coming through the bogless bogs, we saw our first opportunity for a "cream tea" and having been advised never to pass one by, so indulged.  The tea was hot and the biscuit (scone), divine.  The most delightful thing about the cream tea was not the food at all, rather the enterprising family who

orchestrated the whole opportunity at Ravenseat Farm.  Our order was taken by a charming lad of six or seven years, who clearly communicated our wishes to his mum (unseen in the house and recognizable only as a female voice issuing a series of "wa, wa, wa's," much like the teacher from a Peanuts' animation).  When it came time to deliver the cream teas, our waiter became the server and his younger brother (maybe three-years) took care of the financial transaction and his sister (maybe four) took care of the bussing once we enjoyed every bite.

Short post tonight as we chatted long with our fellow hikers at dinner -- and toasted being halfway through our walk!  More from Reeth tomorrow.

In closing, my apologies to everyone who read yesterday's blog.  It was a convoluted and garbled post (not to mention the many typos).  My editor was sleeping before I published.  Regrets!

Notes for walkers:  We clearly hit a major break today by passing through the Nine Standards without the dreaded bog.  We had our gaiters and were prepared to don them (fully expected to do so).  Our thought: err on the side of being prepared as our experience seems to be the exception.  Even without the boot-sucking bog, we were aware of how fully the ground gave with each step -- signaling saturation just below the mostly dry surface.  Without the bog, this is a quick walk from Kirkby Stephen -- take your time as Keld is tiny without much going on.  We're staying the night at the Butt House, where the hospitality and food are (in our opinion) the best in the first half of the walk.  Chris is an extraordinary chef!!

Waypoints and Walls

Day 8: Orton to Kirkby Stephens (the second "k" is silent) -- easy walking

If it's Saturday, this must be Kirkby Stephen.  Overnight it poured rain in Orton.  Between exhaustion and the weather, it was rough to get out of bed this morning.  

Nonetheless, we toasted US Independence Day and the start of our second week on the Wainwright Trek with orange juice at breakfast; then hoisted our packs, tied on our boots and set out into a cloudy but rain-free morning.   The terrain, again gentle and rolling, supported a rather brisk pace.

Combining the guidance from our Stedman C2C Book with signage and the occasional grid check, we chatted merrily across pasture lands, over country lanes and along stone walls . . . until that whole question about hugging the wall where the power lines crossed the path gave us pause.

Those wires looked much closer in the book . . . Holy smokes, could we really have wandered so far afield?  No worries, we determined our current location, Cliff shot a corrective azimuth, then we hustled cross country, climbed a stone wall and were back on track in short order.

Look Georgie, more wall-huggers!

Turns out, we had lots of company in this detour -- at least three other groups missed the critical turn -- much to the amusement of the locals.

What we know for sure is that while this walk is billed as 192 miles coast to coast, we're going to end up with more miles (how many more -- to be determined) between "detours" (a euphemism if ever there was one), diversions to lodging, finding the perfect view/lunch spot/personal relief point, etc.  And you know what? We're good with that.

We're happy.  Really happy.  We're blister free.  We're walked out at the end of each day, eating with gusto and sleeping like babies.  We're enjoying every day, grateful for the time, physicality, motivation and means to walk.  And we're learning something about ourselves and one another everyday.

Note: While this blog so far has basically been a series of "letters home" written to those we invited to follow us, we are aware of a larger following, so beginning tonight (and backtracking to add information to previous posts) we're adding information that may be helpful to others considering/preparing for this trek.   It's a way of giving back since we harvested so much valuable info from other C2C blogs to help us to plan our trip.

Orton to Kirby Stephens (vs Shap to Kirby Stephens) breaks up what can be a very long day.

Route Tips: (1) Use OS maps with vigilance as Stedman Book may be confusing just beyond Bents Farm, (2) pack a lunch (there are no villages en route).

Just Like All Those Pictures You See In the Brochures

Day 7: Bampton to Orton (easy walking through fields -- great day to picnic if the weather is good)

Today was the brochure-perfect walking day.  Clear skies, rolling hills, fields of buttercups, a lunch of local cheese, bread and apples in a farmer's field.  We took our time and the trip photographer took picture after picture to capture the day.  He got photos of Andy and Colleen from Lincolnshire. Backpacking happily without a timeline, they were both bright and shiny as new pennies.  He got photos of the Shap Abbey ruins with relics ranging from 1200 - 1550 -- to include the mostly intact West Tower and stores.  The history boggles the mind.  He got umpteen photos of sheep and lambs, landscapes and flowers, even an RAF fighter jet exercising overhead.  He got pictures of finger posts and the vivid emerald green stretch of the rutted C2C path across newly mown fields.  This was a day made to be photographed . . .

And to see those photos, you'll have to check back in a few weeks, because today the photographer's camera "got away from" him (his words not mine).  Nothing was formatted for the blog.  Whaaaat? So instead of Cliff's pictures, tonight I offer my iPhone photos, where my only job is to capture snaps of the photographer (to prove the man behind the camera was really there!). Note the beautiful blue skies . . .

Photographer Adjusting his Boots

Photographer Crossing a Stile

Photographer, No Explanation Required

At this point (after a 13-mile day -- all without the much-touted bog), we've stopped for the night in the tiny village of Orton -- known for its church (dating back to 1293), chocolate factory and old village charm.  Our B&B is a restored barn house built in 1854.  And yes, the pub had our favorite sports drinks on tap! We're heading now toward Yorkshire, where my mind runs wild with Yorkshire farm images from the 1970s books by James Herriot.

Leaving the Lakes

Day 6: Glen Ridding to Bampton (combination of paths along grassy trails and adjacent to Angle Tarn and Rocky climb up to Kidsty Pike -- moderate to easy)

Having read the guidebook descriptions regarding today's walk from Glen Ridding to Bampton, I set out this morning ready to cross the highest point on the original C2C walk (excluding those alternate high routes we've been taking) and to crab walk the greatest descent.  Both knees taped, iPod charged, two poached eggs for breakfast -- I was set!  Into the mist we ventured -- our objective: Kidsty Pike. And what I know now is that those walkers who have stuck to the original route (no high alternatives), have been having a very different experience from us.  The day was the easiest yet. Fourteen miles, 4,400 feet of mostly gradual ascent and a downhill so gentle and grassy that I could (and did) run part of it.

Rolling Descent from Kidsty Pike to Haweswater Reservoir

To our Scottish clan: this was NO proper Scottish descent! (Marianne, you would have loved it!!).  We agree that the high route alternatives are must dos.  They are absolute gems with treasured views.  And if we'd put all of our "view eggs" into this morning's misty basket, it would have been a shame.

The last day in the lakes also delivered a couple of surprises.  For one, the Herdwick sheep disappeared and the comically white-faced Swaledale sheep took their place.  For another, turns out I've learned to speak sheep and my baa'ing can not only get them to look at the camera, they actually baa back!

Swaledale Sheep

Another (pleasant) surprise: as we reached the headwater of the Haweswater Reservoir below Kidsty Pike, the C2C signposts (basically banned in the lakes) reappeared -- but not before one last misty morning of compass bearings and waypoint-to-waypoint navigation using our Garmin GPS to find the Pike.

As for company, in the mist at Angle Tarn we came upon Ian and George, father and son C2Cers from Manchester England who are walking together following George's recent completion of exams. Although they professed little experience, they kept a steady pace and we saw them several times throughout the day.

Ian and George in the Mist

And on the fairly monotonous trail around Haweswater, we came upon John and Toby -- another father and son team.  John though, was doing the real work as Toby enjoyed the ride.

Toby's first C2C

Immediately behind the duo were Toby's mum and grands. Turns out the grands had done half the C2C five years past. Today they were walking east to west to take on the Lakes. We wished them clear skies and happy days -- take the high routes if you can.

Happy Knees on the last Lake District Day

High and Hot

Day 5: Grasmere to Glen Ridding (another high route laborious ascent, VERY steep descent from St Sunday -- note the books all warn of the winds on St Sunday and it was fierce this day)

O.K., so the title of today's post actually sounds a tad more intriguing (depending on how your thoughts run) than the reality of the day.  With the last high-route alternative selected and complete (although not the highest by ~300 ft as we agreed upon St Sunday Crag over Helvellyn to spare my screaming knees), in temps that reached 96F, we're settled into Glen Ridding for the night. Glen Ridding is a tiny village -- mostly a series of small cottages sprung up around the picturesque Ullswater.

Sweating in our room right now, it's hard to believe that there was a time in our walk planning when we became slightly preoccupied about drying rooms and cozy fireplaces in pubs (ha!).  Now it's: "Pass the sunscreen," and, "Why don't these rooms have ceiling fans?"  Knowing the weather likely will change at some point over the next 13 days, for now we're quite happy with clear skies.

By now we figure you've got to be bored reading about us. We're bored writing about us!  To liven things up, we've decided to introduce some of the people we're meeting along the way.  Really, I wish we'd done this earlier so you could get a sense of the proud sheep farmer and his dog, Lad, on Dent Fell; or of Rachael, the chatty innkeeper with her 20-year-old Cockatoo, Pip, in Longwaithe.  As luck would have it, we set this intent today, then had the trail mostly to ourselves.  Note that for many walkers this is a 17-mile day.  Given the distance, most elect to walk the valley paths and appear much later in the day.  For us, this was our shortest leg at just under eight miles.  Still, we did meet three people (and MANY sheep) along the way:

At the top of The Cape (the high point on St Sunday Crag with the best panoramic view on the C2C), we met John and Ken, two hiking buddies out for a day trip.  Both of these charming Englishmen proclaimed their love for the Lake District, enthusing over the views, the challenge and (today at least) the weather.  So smitten are they that each recently has taken up residence in the District.  They were interested to learn we were walking the C2C.  John told us he has completed the trek several times.  Lamenting  that we would soon be leaving the beauty of the lakes, he quickly added that Yorkshire would be a real treat.  Cliff took their photo; and John was nice enough to snap a shot of us before we headed down hill (oh the knees!).

As I channeled my best inner fiddler crab -- dodging drops and testing rocks in a slow downhill zigzag, Cliff continued his sure-footed mountain goat descent ahead.  At some point I became aware of a rapid, light-footed descent behind me.  Mark, from Stirling, Scotland (think BraveHeart) was on mile 12 of a loop that included not only St Sunday, but also Helvellyn -- all at a full-out run mind you!  Mark was nice enough to allow us to take his photo, and to stop and chat about Scotland and our recent visit there (and to act suitably impressed with our five munros).  He was enjoying the sun and warmth of England -- having left one of the coldest and wettest summers on record at home (don't we know!).  Within minutes (ok, maybe a minute) of bidding us farewell, Mark sprang effortlessly out of sight.  And my crab walk continued . . .

Mostly though today, we were surrounded by our near constant companions in the Lake District, the distinctive Herdwick ewes with their adorable black lambs.