Navigation skills: We were ready…..at least until we thought about it a little further. This trip was to going to require us to navigate, to read a map and to find our way each day. We did not believe we could count on way marks or a clearly trodden path, or someone else to ask. We felt like we had to be self-sufficient. This meant we had to be able to be able to read/use the maps we had dutifully acquired. So, I searched my old friend the Internet and located a fellow who offers orienteering and map and compass use classes in our area (http://www.orienteer.com/). We signed up for one of his half day classes and then a second one. They were very helpful. I also went out and bought a compass with what I deemed the necessary features, including declination adjustment. I also found a very useful site re using a map and compass: http://www.learn-orienteering.org/old/

GPS: I thought a lot about GPS and whether we should use this as well. I read everything that I could on the Walker’s Chat Room on this subject and even posted a question or two myself: Is GPS necessary/ desired for this walk? To make a long story short, we did not take GPS—it was just one further tool with which I was not currently familiar and which I eventually decided we did not need. Having said that, we were lucky in that we didn’t get lost too badly, nor did we have fog or whiteout conditions on the fell tops. If we had experienced any of the above, it would have been nice to have GPS because GPS will tell you exactly where you are--if you know where you are, you stand a better chance of figuring out in which direction to walk. But if you don’t know where you are and you can’t see 5 feet in front of your face, not to mention any landmarks, you’re in trouble. Anyway, we didn’t have GPS and (luckily!) we didn’t need it.

Having said that, however, next time I do a walk like this, I will have GPS with me—belt and suspenders (braces) never hurts.

So, we were getting our act ready to take it on the road. We were getting excited as the date of our departure approached and we were really looking forward to our adventure. 3 or 4 months before our departure date, Susan called—Gary had broken his foot and their participation looked doubtful. Did we want to reschedule or continue on our own? We thought about it a lot and decided that while it would have been great to do this with Gary and Susan, it would also be great to do this on our own. We decided to press on.

Ground Transport: We were due to land at Manchester Airport (MAN) on May 13^th. We were going to have to get ourselves up to St. Bees on the 13^th in order to be able to start our walk on the 14^th. When we booked the trip we intended to take the train, However, when I started checking the train schedules, it appeared that seasonal construction on the weekends complicated matters: the trip from MAN to St. Bees which was normally a 3 hour train ride with one change had become a 5 hour ride with 3 changes one of which was a bus. We didn’t think we wanted to tackle this after a transcontinental and then a (sleepless) transatlantic flight, so we looked into a taxi service to St. Bees. Through the St. Bees website (www.stbees.org.uk/) we learned of a taxi service called Airport Services (UK) Ltd based in Kendall. After emailing back and forth with them, it seemed that if we could find another couple, we could bring down the cost of the taxi ride to 34 gbp per person. This made this luxury almost affordable. I placed a note on the Walker’s Chat Room and lo and behold Sue responded that she and her friend Anne Marie would like to share the cab ride with us. We ended up meeting them at MAN as we exited customs. After collecting a ton of cash from the airport ATM (enough to last until Kirkby Stephen), we met our taxi outside and we were off on the 3 hour ride to St. Bees.

It was a gorgeous day when we arrived in St. Bees and checked into our lodgings for the night—a lovely cottage at Stonegate Farm—the cottage had two rooms--a bedroom and a living room/kitchen combination. Very comfortable. St. Bees was a charming village—very quiet, untouristy and uncommercial. Just the way we like it. After getting organized, setting up the maps for the next day, putting the Packhorse stickers on our bags so they knew where to deliver them the following day, we wandered up to the Manor House to have a sandwich. After that, we staggered back to our lodgings and fell fast asleep for 3 hours. Since lunch had been good, we opted to try the Manor House again for dinner. This time it wasn’t quite as successful, at least for me. I ordered the rack of lamb special not knowing that what I would be getting was a reheated rack of lamb that had been in the fridge at least overnight if not longer—in fact, it was still chilly in the center. No matter, we were nourished and watered and returned to our lodgings to try and sleep.

Day 1 May 15^th St. Bees to Ennerdale Bridge 14 miles

Fleswick Bay on the Irish Sea

Surprisingly, both of us slept quite well considering the substantial (8 hours) time differential and after a hearty full English breakfast, we were off. The day was overcast but mild and it was dry. We were flying high and eager to begin our walk. When we asked our landlady if we could get lunch along the way or whether we should get a packed lunch, she suggested we would find ample choice in Cleator where we should be by around lunchtime. I did make a flask of tea and packed it along as I would most everyday. It was a nice break to stop for a cup of tea along the way. While I know there will be those who would cringe at the thought, we made the tea, complete with milk and sugar in advance—there would be no brewing on the trail for us. By the way, without exception, each B&B in which we stayed on this trip had tea/coffee making equipment and supplies in the room.

So, as legions had done before us, we walked down to the beach and dutifully picked up a pebble each and dipped our boots in the Irish Sea and, after the obligatory photo, we were off—first up the bluffs and then following the cliffs for a couple of hours before turning east. As we entered Cleator, our eyes were peeled for the abundant hospitality industry of which we had been advised. Nothing. As we were approaching Dent Hill, we met a local resident and when we asked her if there was a place nearby where we could get a sandwich, she directed us to a pub in Cleator Moor—about a mile off path. We bit. We had a nice roast beef sandwich and then returned to the track to make our way up Dent, our first ascent of the trip. On the way up, we passed by Andrew and Brenda having lunch (We didn’t know their names then but we would learn them later on) and then on the top we saw Tim and Paula, a couple who we would later discover had already done the other (longitudinal) coast to coast from Land’ End to John O’Groats. This must have been a piece of cake for them. We lingered for 10 minutes on top of Dent, admiring the view, but the breeze and the hour urged us onward down the other side of the mountain to Nannycatch Beck.

Here, came the first uncertainty of the trip. The way down Dent was not crystal clear. We consulted our book and maps and set off soon to run into a group of motocross riders who assured us that we were going the right way. Later on two mountain bikers waited for us and made sure we were on the right course along Nannycatch Beck. From there, it was pretty easy sailing into Ennerdale Bridge. With our off piste lunch break we had added at least another 1½ miles to our day and when we pulled out our itinerary, we discovered that our abode for the evening was located ½ mile outside of the far end of the village. After a few groans, we pressed on to Far Moor End. The concise directions were impeccable and easy to follow and when we arrived we were delighted with our host and hostess and the accommodations. We had a large room complete with king size bed and a large, modern en suite bathroom. Our hosts prepared tea and shortbread for us in the common room of which we partook with pleasure. After a shower and some basic organizing and our obligatory preparation of maps and labels for the next day, we relaxed until dinner. We were given a ride into the village and had a very nice meal (and a pint) at the Shepherd’s Arms. We felt so rejuvenated that we walked back on what had become a sunny and warm evening. A great day.

Day 2 May 16^th Ennerdale Bridge to Stonethwaite 14 Miles

Looking back at Black Sail hut toward Ennerdale Water

As usual, a full English breakfast was offered and accepted (at least by me). We ordered a sandwich to tide us through the day and made preparations to be off. We met Cath and Marie over breakfast—two delightful women from Sheffield and the Isle of Man, respectively, who were the other guests at Far Moor End and with whom we would spend a good deal of time over the next few days.

Today began somewhat blustery and misty. Our host suggested a short cut to the path and further suggested that the path on the north side of Ennerdale Water might be a nice alternative to the Wainwright path on the south side. We took him up on both suggestions and with our ½ mile head start and our shortcut to the path, we made excellent time to Black Sail Hut—a marvelously remote and welcoming venue. The weather had also improved markedly. When we arrived there and opened the door to peak in, we were the only people there save the hut master. He welcomed us in and we had a cup of tea and a cake then ended up breaking out our lunch. We were alone there for almost an hour. As we were leaving, Marie and Cath were just arriving along with a gentleman walking solo named Frank. We had seen Frank in the distance on the opposite side of Ennerdale Water from us. All we could see is that he was wearing black clothing so we called him the Blackman and we gauged our forward progress on one side of the lake vis a vis his on the other. Then it came time to leave Black Sail and head up Loft Beck. Now, I had made a note in my direction sheet for the day about some conceivably tricky issues at the top of Loft Beck but inasmuch as the day was turning sunny and was clear, I put my papers away as we ascended the beck to the Brandreth fence. Big mistake. For some reason, near the top of the ascent we began to follow the beck to the left. When we got to the fence, it was not clear if we were still “on path”. No matter, we pressed on and took a stile over the fence thinking “Why would there be a stile over the fence if this weren’t the path?” After 15 minutes, we knew we had gone astray. However, it was clear and the weather was good; we were irritated but not worried. We looked up and to the right and saw Frank about a half mile away walking around the contours of the hill—he was where we needed to be. No matter. We made our way down the hill and then to the old slate mine and from there to Honester Pass. We had taken the long/wrong way. I could immediately see that had been extremely lucky to be able to see the right way from where we had gone wrong. In bad weather, we would not have been afforded this luxury. I knew two things then: (1) The map should always be in front of my face and (2) I should use it. I also “got” that if the weather were bad, GPS would have been very helpful here. As soon as we got to Honister Pass, it was easy sailing down into Stonethwaite and our lodgings at the Langstrath Hotel. Stonethwaite is a quiet little hamlet consisting only of the aforementioned hotel, a few B&B’s and a telephone box. Here, we had our only shared bath on the trip but it was more than compensated for by the on-site bar and restaurant. Cath and Marie joined us in the bar and then for dinner and we had a terrific meal and great conversation.

Day 3-May 17^th Stonethwaite to Grasmere 9 Miles

Walking down from Helm's Crag into Grasmere

Today was one of the best days of hiking we had ever had. It was sunny and warm and as we ascended past Eagle Crag and then up Lining Crag it became apparent to us that this was what the Lake District was all about. We made very fast time to Greenup Edge and decided to take the alternate ridge walk over Calf’s Crag into Grasmere. We had a picturesque and leisurely walk down into Grasmere, a tony and one of the most touristy of the towns that we would see on this trip. When we arrived at the Harwood Hotel, we received the first inkling that the tone of our holiday would soon change. The proprietor told us that Charlene’s sister had just called for her. This was not a good sign as we were not expecting any calls absent an emergency. It turned out that Charlene’s mother had just been admitted to the hospital and was not doing well. We spent the rest of that afternoon at the local internet cafe (located at the Garden Center, by the way) looking at alternative ways to leave the trip and go back early and on phone calls to the doctor and to the various airlines. We ate a nervous dinner at Tweedy’s and retired early.

Day 4—May 18^th Grasmere to Patterdale 8.5 miles

C to C camaraderie at the White Lion, Patterdale

Today was overcast with just the slightest hint of moisture in the air. We ascended Tongue Gill on the right side and made our way to Griesdale Tarn without incident. When we took a short break at the Tarn, there was a cold wind blowing. Tim was going to walk up Helvellyn as were Cath and Marie. We were too preoccupied with Charlene’s mom to go up Helvellyn as Charlene had an appointment to call the doctor in Boston at 2:00 pm. We made it down into Patterdale just before 2, found a telephone booth and Charlene made her call. She spoke to the doctor and it seemed her Mom was doing better. We felt relieved and retired to the White Lion for a pint while waiting for our lodgings, the Old Water View, to open at 4:00 pm. We were waiting for them at the front door when they opened the door at 4:00 sharp. Our room was very nice with a king size bed and ensuite bathroom. Tea and ginger cake were served in the lounge but there was something perfunctory about our reception. Almost before we had our boots off, we were presented with forms to fill out regarding tomorrow’s breakfast. Everywhere in the house there were papers covered with laminated plastic with the do’s and don’ts of this establishment. Dinner that evening at the White Lion was wonderful—a real spirit of camaraderie prevailed as we dined with Frank, Brenda and Andrew, Tim and Paula, Simi and John, and Cath and Marie. It was really a fun evening. The weather report for the following day was somewhat dismal so we retired thinking that we may have to resort to Plan B for the next day.

Day 5 May 19^th Patterdale to Bampton 12 miles

Char, Marie & Cath at Stone Circle on Moor Divock

The first thing I did this morning was to check the weather on the Teletext. It was a bad forecast with very limited visibility on the fell tops. As this was the day for Kidsty Pike and High Street, this was not a good sign. We opted for the bad weather alternative-- going around the mountain via Pooley Bridge instead of over it. As I had vowed never to walk without a map and as my strip map did not show the alternative walk, I purchased the OS survey map OL5 from the well-stocked Post Office & General Store in Patterdale . It rained lightly all morning. By lunch the rain had stopped and the sun came out shortly thereafter. We hiked with Cath and Marie during parts of the day and had lunch with them inside a barn we found at around lunchtime. We had a pleasant walk around Ullswater and then over Moor Divock and Ashkam Fell. We discovered a lovely ancient stone circle and Roman Road and I had fun navigating with our compass and new map.

After stopping for tea and scones at Bampton General Store and Post Office, we made our way to the Mardale Inn in Bampton at approximately 4:00 pm. No sooner were we shown into our comfortable room than Charlene received a call from her sister that her mother had taken a turn for the worse. That evening we decided to abandon our trip and return to Boston to be with Charlene’s mother. We booked an American Airlines flight from MAN to Boston for the next morning and got a ride to MAN from Stead Bowness, the proprietor of the Bridge End garage and taxi service which, other than the post office and general store and the Mardale Inn, is the only other commercial establishment in town. He was very gracious and helpful to us and we were very grateful to him for driving us into Manchester at 9:00 in the evening.

We booked an exorbitant room at the Radisson SAS at the airport and flew to Boston on May 20^th. This was a very sudden end to what had been a wonderful trip. We were only sorry we didn’t get to say goodbye to the new friends we had only recently met who must have wondered where the crazy Americans had disappeared to.

Charlene's mother died on May 26^th. We did the right thing to leave the trip to be with her. At the same time, we knew we wanted to finish the trip this year so we resumed the trip where we ended it, in Bampton, on September 14th. On September 12 we flew to MAN, this time having arranged for Stead Bowness of Bampton to meet our flight, which he did, and transport us back to Bampton where we arrived at about 10:30 am on September 13^th. This time we were staying at the Post Office, General Store and Tea Room where we had had tea on May 19^th. Stella McGuire greeted us warmly with tea and home made scones and then we took a little nap. Later on we took a walk up to St. Patrick’s church in Bampton Grange and inspected the start of the public footpath we planned to take the next day to join up with the C to C at Shap Abbey. Our accommodations at the General Store were very private and comfortable—we had our own apartment over the Store; with two twin beds and an en suite bathroom. We had dinner that evening at the Mardale Inn where we saw Harry and Marjorie (whom we would later meet and see many times again during the course of the trip).

Day 6—September 14^th Bampton to Orton 13.25 miles

Roman Road on the way to Orton

Today was a great day of hiking. We walked back to the church in Bampton Grange and took the footpath through fields down to Shap Abbey where we had a short rest and a cup of tea in the shadow of the ruin. Here we first saw Lois and Alan whom we would also see many times in the future. They had spent the night at the Crown and Mitre in Bampton Grange. On the way in to Shap we ran into Stead Bowness driving his mum to the doctor. We said hello and took a picture. On the way into Orton we had a picnic lunch at a double stone circle near Oddendale. Navigating in the area of Robin Hood’s grave became a little tricky but we managed to stay on course and, after a leisurely walk, arrived in Orton around 4:00 pm. Our lodgings for the evening were at Mostyn House, just on the near edge of town as you enter it. Our welcome there seemed somewhat tentative. The small room to which we were assigned had a small and very soft bed. The bathroom was funky. And the George Hotel, the only place in town for an evening meal, was closed for renovations so we were given a ride to Tebay to eat at the The Cross Keys pub, which was actually quite good. We dined with Derrick that night, who was also a guest at Mostyn House . Derrick was a 77 year old from the Manchester area who was doing the C to C solo and we would meet up with him on the trail a few times the following day. Harry and Marjorie and the 3 guys from Seattle were also eating here after having also been driven here by their B&B proprietors.

Back at Mostyn House I continued my now familiar routine of checking the teletext weather on the TV. BTW, the forecast map for the next 12 hours is found on channel 401; the forecast by city on 406 and the regional forecast on 402. The forecasts are updated at 6:00 pm and at 6:30 am every day so I made sure to check before turning in for the night and then again in the morning. Unfortunately, all sources agreed that the forecast for tomorrow was rain.

Day 7—September 15^th Orton to Kirkby Stephen 12.95 miles

Our host (and chef) Colin Callam, Old Croft House, Kirkby Stephen

We woke to our first rainy day on this leg of the trip. After breakfast, we donned full raingear (including gaiters to keep the rain from dripping into the tops of the boots) and set off. The rain was light but steady the entire day, all the way to Kirkby Stephen. The rain notwithstanding, this was a pleasant day, with relatively flat, easy walking. We took a short cut and didn’t even pass by Sunbiggin Tarn. At around lunchtime, we found ourselves looking up at a sign on the path advertising a camping barn called Bent’s Farm. We had no information as to whether it would be open during the day, but inasmuch as the detour appeared to be only a few hundred meters and the prospect of a dry place to eat lunch was appealling, we walked though the gate to Bent’s Farm. We approached a closed door and knocked—no answer. We tentatively turned the handle to what appeared to be the “camping barn” door and it opened. Inside were a common room, a kitchen, a toilet and sleeping rooms upstairs. There was no one there. There was even an electric heater of which we availed ourselves to dry off and warm up. This was a very welcome stop for us. After drying off, having lunch and hot tea, we put on our wet things and re-entered the elements. We might have tarried in the areas of the prehistoric Severals settlements and the Giants Graves but the weather was not conducive to poking around.

When we got to KS around 3:30, the rain had virtually stopped. We knocked on the door of the centrally located Old Croft House and were greeted with literally open arms by Chris and Colin, our hosts for the evening. Charlene and I had heard much praise for the Croft House from others we had met; so our expectations had been high. They were exceeded. We were encouraged to leave our boots by the stove to dry and our wet things were solicited and whisked away to a drying room. We were shown our comfortable room (one queen size bed and one single) and were offered tea and cakes in the sitting room. And what tea and cakes! Harry and Marjorie had arrived just before us and were in the sitting room when we came down. Chris brought in the tea and a 3 tiered cake plate chock-a-block full of generous slices of just-baked layer cake as well as half a dozen fresh scones slathered in butter and jam. Wow! As we relaxed on the blue leather sofas and partook of the wonderful fare, Chris went through the menu for the evening: melon with Parma ham, followed by breast of chicken in a light mushroom sauce with new potatoes, fresh vegetables and a celery root dish, sticky toffee pudding for dessert. Charlene was even offered a plate of melon and strawberries instead of the pudding for dessert. Now, this is living, I thought. Harry, Marjorie, Charlene and I had a wonderful conversation over tea and then we all went up to shower and change for dinner.

Before dinner, I snuck out to do a little reckie of KS—charming town, antique shops, a walking shop or two, banks. I used the telephone booth across the street and my calling card to call home and then walked down to the COOP to purchase a bottle of wine for dinner which Chris had invited us to do. At the appointed hour, we arrived “a table” and everything looked beautiful. Chris had lit candles on the table to go along with the crystal and china and had even changed into an elegant evening outfit. Meanwhile, Colin could be seen toiling in the gourmet kitchen with his Chef’s toque. All this in KS. This was a very special evening. We were joined by Len and Rosalind and Marjorie and Harry at the dinner table and it felt more like a dinner party with friends than a meal at a B&B. Harry had purchased a bottle of wine as well, so, needless to say, all of us were feeling no pain by the end of the meal. An extraordinary evening.

Day 8—September 16^th Kirkby Stephen to Thwaite 14 miles

Ron at Nine Standards

Had a good night’s sleep and came downstairs to breakfast feeling refreshed and ready to tackle Nine Standards. While we were eating breakfast, Simon from Packhorse came by and we met him and had a brief conversation. He told us the weather was a bit brisk outside but that today and the next few days would be dry. I was really happy to hear this. This was consistent with the weather forecasts I had been getting and I was rarin’ to go. Simon had also mentioned the there might be some rather boggy conditions up at Nine Standards. Now, I had heard a lot about the bogs at Nine Standards-- how some people showed up at the end of the day in Keld with mid-thigh watermarks and that people were encouraged to carry ropes to affect bog rescues. I took most of this with a grain of salt but still was unsure of exactly what to expect. For good measure, we put on our gaiters before leaving that morning and I am glad we did. We ascertained the way out of town and set off. Before doing so, however, we settled our account with Chris—turns out the evening meal cost 13 GBP per person—very reasonable indeed in light of the excellent quality.

Simon was right, it was a brisk morning as we crossed Frank’s Bridge and began our ascent of Nine Standards. We were looking for our first glimpse of the Standards—we had seen them the day before from the distance silhouetted against the sky. We saw them; we reached them and then they were behind us—this is how things go on this trip (not to mention in life in general :>)) When we arrived at the top we were the only people up there for about 10 minutes. We had a cuppa tea and studied our maps to figure out the direction we should be walking in. . There are guideposts every 500 meters or so, so as soon as you arrived at one, you looked for the next one. No surprise, the bogs were there too--but if you were prepared for them and were careful, it was not too difficult to emerge from a couple of hours of bog hopping without so much as a mud spatter above the ankle. (Note re: Trekking poles:  I really like trekking poles, especially for prolonged downhill sections which I find more difficult than uphill. They help take some of the wear and tear off my knees. At Nine Standards, I discovered a new use for them--as probes. Lesson 1: if you stick your pole into the ground in front of you and it sinks in 2 feet, it would probably be a good idea to find a different place to take your next step.)

The top of Nine Standards in a whiteout would be another world entirely-- where GPS pre-loaded with way marks would be a very useful friend indeed. Luckily, it was a clear, dry day and visibility was good. We made it across the top and down the blue route toward Whitsundale Beck and on towards Ravenseat. We stopped for lunch near a sheepfold along the way and had the wonderful sandwiches prepared by Colin—best packed lunch of the trip by far. By then the sun had come out some more and it was a relatively easy meander into Keld. However, we were not staying in Keld…we had another two “road” miles to go past Keld into Thwaite. These seemed like the longest two miles ever. It seemed to take forever to get to the Kearton Country Hotel—the only commercial establishment in the hamlet of Thwaite. Our room for the evening contained the oddest en suite facilities we had seen. The toilet was by itself and was separated from the bedroom by a sliding door which didn’t slide all the way shut; the sink was right in the room and the shower was also in the room by itself next to the bed. Everything worked but the configuration was very quirky. Anyhow, we repaired to the bar, had a nice pint (in my case Theakstons and in Charlene’s soda water) and met up with Alan and Lois who we joined for an enjoyable meal. Dinner was a set 3 course affair which was quite good, an excellent value for money at 9GBP per person.

Day 9—September 17^th Thwaite to Reeth 11 miles

Local resident along the Swale route to Reeth

Today dawned warm and sunny. We had decided to walk along the Swale to Reeth instead of going over the top to inspect the abandoned lead mines. As we would be walking on a number of different public footpaths, none of which were part of the C to C, I purchased an Ordinance Survey map covering our alternative route. While it was debatable whether this additional map was necessary, our luck to date in not getting lost was good and I was reluctant to push it by undertaking even this relatively easy leg of our trip without a map. So, we set off on a leisurely walk. My low top Lowa Klondikes, which I had worn today instead of my boots, felt like cushy bedroom slippers. We had a quick walk into Muker, visited Swaledale Woolens and the shop next door which had some terrific original oil paintings by Peter Brooks, a Yorkshire artist who, we were told, was very well known and was collected by famous people. His work was very interesting-- his shepherd dog appears somewhere in all of his paintings—but the prices (~5000 GBP) were a little above our comfort level. We pressed on. According to the map, there was certain footpath heading to Gunnerside from Muker which I wanted to find. We spent about 45 minutes looking for that path until a local told us that we probably wouldn’t want to take it anyway as it would involve fording the Swale. We agreed and took the more conventional path which crossed the Swale on a footbridge just half a kilometer out of Muker. We walked through Gunnerside (a village with an extraordinary number of pubs for its size) and continued easterly towards Reeth. On the way we met two British women whom we would later learn were named Jennie and Claire. Claire was leaving the trip in Richmond and was to be replaced by Deborah whom we also meet later.

We had an excellent walk into Reeth and found Cambridge House, our accommodation for the evening, without any difficulty. After being welcomed with tea and cakes, we had a bath (there was a large bathtub) and rested for a bit in our beautifully appointed bedroom. Cambridge House is a stone building recently rebuilt over 4 years by Sandra’s partner, Les. They did a wonderful job—it was a very comfortable place to stay. We booked dinner at the Bucks Hotel in the center of town. My first course was my usual pint (this time of Guinness) followed by the venison steak, which was actually very good. Charlene, on the other hand, ordered vegetarian lasagna. We should have become somewhat suspicious when Charlene, upon asking whether the vegetarian lasagna was tomato-sauce based, was told that there were alternating layers of meat, pasta and cheese. Meat in a vegetarian lasagna??? At any rate, Charlene ordered it and when it arrived, it was swimming in molten cheddar cheese, so much so that Charlene asked the waitress to take it back to the kitchen for a “cheese-ectomy”. When it arrived back on or table minus the ocean of cheese, it was much improved.

Day 10—September 18^th Reeth to Richmond 11 miles

Across the fields toward Richmond, near Applegarth Scar

The day before, just before coming into Reeth, we had seen an elegantly attired gentleman walking alone in the direction of Reeth. I didn’t think he was a

C to C'er in that his boots were newly polished brown, he was sporting a pair of pressed corduroy walking trousers and he carried the most beautiful hand-carved wooden stick with a carved sheep’s horn handle—most unusual. At breakfast this morning, who should come to the table but two older women and one older gentleman—the one and the same whom we had seen on the path the day before. I mentioned that I had seen him walking the day before and proceeded to describe in great detail (see above) his attire. He was incredulous as if to say “how could anyone have seen me well enough to describe what I was wearing in such great detail right down to the bone-handled stick and me not having any recollection of seeing that person at all?” After recreating where we were when we saw him, he did remember seeing Charlene and me and Jennie and Claire. It turns out that he and his wife, Elsie, were there to attend a matting workshop. Elsie is part of a craft guild in Durham that makes mats out of scraps of material. As we were leaving, she showed us an example of her work and I snapped a photo. I sent her an email enclosing the photo we took of her. She was also wearing a remarkable sweater that she had knitted—showing the interior detail of the Durham cathedral complete with the arches and buttresses. Quite extraordinary. She said she had a matching hat. They were a delightful couple and we enjoyed meeting them.

This was another fine and relatively short day. Suffice it to say, we had a very nice walk into Richmond. We saw Harry and Marjorie on the way and said goodbye to them as our schedules were such that we would not cross paths again, at least on this trip. Picnic lunch at Applegarth Scar. When we arrived in Richmond, we had some difficulty finding our lodgings at 66 Frenchgate. When we finally arrived there, the proprietor told us that we were actually staying at Nun’s Cottage and gave us directions on how to get there. We were a little irritated in that we had passed the area of Nun’s Cottage as we walked into the town some 45 minutes ago and we had spent all this time searching for Frenchgate only to be told, when we finally arrived, that we needed to turn around and go back in the direction from whence we had come. Anyhow, all’s well that ends well. We found Nun’s Cottage where we were to be the sole guests for the next two nights. It was very comfortable and our hostess Judith Flint was most helpful and accommodating. Note—while Richmond has a large number of restaurants, banks and other commercial establishments, we were dismayed to learn that these did not include a laundrette and we had been counting on doing our laundry in Richmond. Judith was very helpful and offered to do our laundry for a very reasonable amount. We were very grateful. Nice dinner at a bistro kind of place called The New Frenchgate at No. 29

Day 11—September 19th—Rest day in Richmond

Richmond Castle

A well-deserved rest day. The weather was good. Not a drop of rain. We visited the castle and were the only people on the castle grounds for about an hour. We explored every nook and cranny of the castle including the keep and the gardens—lots of fun. The Georgian Theater, which would have been nice to see, was closed. Explored the shops including a beautiful COOP supermarket where we saw flavors of crisps that haven’t yet made it stateside, such as lamb and mint and Thai beef. After lunch at a tearoom on the market square, we visited the library to check our email (all was well) and then the Richmond city museum which was quite interesting. We had nice dinner that evening at Latinos, an Italian restaurant on the market square. It was nice having a day off.

Day 12-- September 20th—Richmond to Danby Wiske 14 miles

Pointing the way to Danby Wiske

Every day, of course, (much to Charlene’s dismay) I had been regularly checking the teletext weather at least 2-3 times per day. If I didn’t get my regular weather fix at least a couple of times per day, I was not a happy camper. I was most concerned about our Day 14 and Day 15 where we had 20 and 17 miles to do, respectively. Our 20 mile day was looking good and our 17 mile day showed “showers”. Oh well. We had been very lucky with the weather—you will hear no complaints from us. Over the next two days we were to cross the Vale of Mowbray, an area some have complained of as boring and flat. We rather enjoyed the change of pace. The way out of Richmond was straightforward and easy to follow. We caught up with Alan and Lois at around Catterick Bridge and met Mike and Luann as we sat, eating our packed lunch, on an old crumbling bridge over a stream in the middle of a field .

We arrived in Danby Wiske relatively early—about 2:30 and no one was at our lodgings, the Old Schoolhouse, located just off the village green. The pub was closed (more about this later) but we found a small café open just east of the pub which was full of C to C’ers. While we were sitting outside there having a lemonade, Jean, the proprietress, came out and asked in a loud voice: “Are Mr. and Mrs. Friedman here?” "That would be us!", we replied. But how in the world did she know we were there? It turns out, Doreen, our landlady, was in her car, stuck behind a jackknifed lorrie full of cows. Unable to pass by, she had called Jean to see if we were at her cafe and if so to let us in the B&B which she did. After showering and getting ready for dinner, we had confirmation of the rumors we had heard previously—the White Swan pub was the only place in town for an evening meal but it didn’t open until 7:30pm (It is not open mid-day at all). It was now 5 and we would have liked a small libation. Doreen was very kind. First, she fixed us tea, crackers and cheese and then she offered us beer or wine which I gratefully accepted. When her husband Frank came in a little later, he had bought some more beer and wine and offered me another beer which I gratefully accepted again. She would not allow me to pay for the beer. Charlene’s stomach was doing somersaults that night and she decided to pass on dinner (in hindsight, a wise decision). When the Old Schoolhouse guests walked over to the White Swan, Alan and Lois were already seated and having a Guinness, I think, or at least Alan was, so I ordered a Guinness as well and all five of us (Alan, Lois, Jennie, Deborah and I) ate together. We were the only dinner business for the evening. The pub itself was attractive; however, my meal was fair at best--perhaps I chose the wrong items from the menu. The only menu options were either a two course meal at 12GBP or a three course at 15GBP. I wouldn’t have minded the force feeding if the food were a notch or two better. We had had (and would continue to have) very good food across England. My meal here consisted of a slice of warmed up pork roast in a sea of gravy, something that was billed as Yorkshire Pudding but which resembled tiny little mini-pies and and what appeared to be canned or frozen vegetables (baby carrots and green beans). Dessert was a tiny slice of frozen passion fruit pie. Needless to say, there is great room for improvement here.

Doreen and Frank, used to be the proprietors of the White Swan and sold it to the present owners a couple of years back. They are very nice people and the old Schoolhouse is a very comfortable B&B which really feels more like you are staying in someone’s home than most other B&B’s. I had heard that when the pub was in their hands, it was a terrific place.

Day 13—September 21st Danby Wiske to Osmotherley 10.5 miles

The Golden Lion, Osmotherley

Today was another fine day. An easy walk. As we would have gotten into Osmotherley by 2:00 pm, we took a little detour to the Mount Grace Priory which is a little hard to get to from the C to C path. Worth a trip. When we arrived in the town, we purchased some items at the General Store/Post Office and then discovered that Vane House, our B&B, was located right next door. When we knocked on the door to Vane House, no one answered but the postmistress saw us knocking and said she would call Alan (our host) to see which room we were in. She did so and in 3 minutes she had let us into our cozy room. I had heard that the beds were soft here; they were but in a good way. I liked Vane House very much. Alan also gave us a helpful hint as to how to save ¾ of a mile on a shortcut out of town the following morning. I was all ears as we had a long day in store for us. Osmotherley is off the official C to C by a mile or so but is worth the detour. In stark contrast to last night, we now had 3 pubs and a fish and chips shop to choose from. After having heard great things about the Three Tuns, we opted for the Golden Lion and were extremely pleased with our choice. This was a very nice restaurant, certainly our best pub meal of the trip. Charlene had fresh salmon and I had beef stroganoff. My starter was the usual pint of Guinness. Truly excellent meal, great service, nice fresh flowers. A+ rating.

Day 14—September 22^nd Osmotherley to Blakey Ridge 20 miles

The Cleveland Way stretches before us

Contrary to the other B&B’s in which we had stayed in which breakfast was usually available no earlier than 8:00 am., Alan invited us to breakfast at any time we wanted. This was great as we had a long day ahead of us and wished to get an early start. We opted for a 7:00 am meal and it arrived on extra hot plates—in reaching for her fork Charlene’s knuckle brushed against the superheated plate and she got a very small burn—her only injury of the trip. No matter. Breakfast was great. The weather would be dry today and it was yet another day I could wear shorts.

This ended up being one of our most enjoyable hiking days. The weather was fabulous. We made it to Lordstone’s Café at Carlton Bank for a 10:30 tea/diet coke break and then pressed on. After an (unintended) tour of the Wainstones, we made good time and stopped for lunch on a bench which magically appeared just when we needed it at the end of the descent of Hasty Bank, near Claybank Top. From the top of Urra Moor all the way to Bloworth Crossing, the walking was perfect and the views back over the Cleveland Hills were inspiring. At one point, we could actually see the 5 Cleveland Hills which we had just come over. The path along the dismantled railway from Bloworth Crossing to Blakey Ridge was heaven. Wainwright says that walking speed on this stretch might increase to 5 miles an hour. While this was somewhat of an exaggeration, we made exceptional time from here to the Lion Inn—I am guessing we did almost 4 miles an hour. We had left Osmotherley at 7:50 and arrived at the Lion Inn at 4:10 and had stopped for tea, for lunch and assorted rests. We were both very proud of our effort on this, our longest day. I should also say that the view from a distance of the Lion Inn was really inspiring. As we rounded a corner, we could see it about a mile away with the sun shining off its red roof. What a welcome sight! The Lion Inn exceeded our expectations. We had a nice en suite room with shower and bath (I had a bath again thank you). Dinner in the restaurant was very good. I had Barnsley (lamb) Chops which were excellent. The only complaint I had is that in retrieving my usual Guinness starter from the bar, I walked through a doorway which had about 5’11” of clearance. Unfortunately, I am 6’2”. You can guess the results.

Day 15—September 23^rd Blakey Ridge to Littlebeck 17.25 miles

So this is why they call it Intake Farm...

This day was also to be a relatively long one. By pre-arrangement, we came into the breakfast room at 7:30 and just helped ourselves to the cold buffet—by this time I couldn’t look at another cooked breakfast, so the early hour of our planned departure this morning dictated that no FEB was available anyway. That was OK with me. The forecast was for showers—we could hear the wind howling on the moors outside our room; so we emerged from the Lion Inn ready to walk at a brisk clip. It was not raining yet but we expected some soon. We didn’t see anyone for 3 hours--all the way to Glaisdale. As we were coming off the moor into Glaisdale, it began to rain and as we got to the awning outside the Post Office and General Store, it started raining hard. We chose this spot to don our rain gear. While we were putting it on, we inquired about the location of the pub where we intended to have lunch—no packed lunch today. We were told it was at the end of town. Rain gear on, we set off to find lunch. When we arrived at the pub, the door was closed and no one seemed to be there. We walked down the street and then came back. We were about ready to sit down on the pub steps and have a lunch consisting of trail mix and tea when we decided to try the other entrance. Bingo! They were just opening and the cook was just lighting the fire in the dining room fireplace. We took a seat by the fireplace and ordered lunch (I even had a beer at lunch which was not my normal habit). This ended up being a fabulous meal. We shared a fresh mushroom and mascarpone cheese soup to start and then shared a grilled Italian vegetable pannini on ciabatta and a ham, cheddar and pickle sandwich on the same bread. Dynamite meal. The name of the pub is the Arncliffe Arms and the chef’s name is Graham Benn. We heard later that the hotel part of this establishment leaves a lot to be desired but we didn’t have any experience with that. All I can tell you is that the welcome we received was warm and inviting and the food was wonderful—prepared by someone who understands how to cook. We then left the pub (by this time the rain had stopped) and walked down to Beggar’s Bridge, a bridge originally built in the 1500’s. Then through Arncliffe wood, into Egmont Bridge and into Grosmont (pronounced Growmont). We saw the famous steam train there but pressed on as we had a while to go to get to Littlebeck. Let me warn you about something called the Grosmont Hill. Basically, as soon as you cross the railroad line, you begin walking up a steep hill on a road for the next 45 minutes to an hour. It seemed to me like one of the steepest parts of the trip—perhaps it was because we were nearing the end of a long day, perhaps it was because this steep hill was all paved road, perhaps any number of things. All I know is this “up” seemed to last a long time. Once the top is reached, it is all flat or downhill into Littlebeck.

Shortcut to Intake Farm If you are staying at Intake Farm in Littlebeck, there is one more uphill section of ¾ of a mile or so, that is unless you take the short cut which is right off the C to C path. Do I have your attention? Good. While you are walking on the shoulder of the A169 road looking for the C to C footpath down off the moor and into Littlebeck, just before (maybe 100 meters or so) that path heads off the right side of the A169 road over a stile in the direction of Littlebeck you will pass a dirt road protected by a gate. A sign on the gate says something like (I am going from memory and I don’t remember exactly what the sign says) “No entrance—for farm use only” . You can see this road on your OS map. If you are going to Intake Farm, take this road which is a shortcut leading directly to Intake Farm. . It runs parallel to the C to C footpath down into Littlebeck. You first pass by High Quebec Farm and then Low Quebec Farm before you get to Intake Farm. This short cut will save you 15 minutes of steep uphill walking...

Intake Farm was one of the highlights of our trip. When we finally arrived (mind you we did not take the short cut), Judith greeted us at the door and warmly welcomed us into her kitchen and then began plying us with tea and freshly homemade cakes and cookies. What a nice welcome. We had a great room with a large double bed and the most heavenly shower of the trip. Then there was dinner. All the guests (there were 9 of us that night—4 women from Cornwall—Debbie, Chrissy, Wendy and Sheelagh, and 3 gents from Seattle—Reg, Larry and Chuck—whom we had seen many times along the way but with whom we had never stayed at the same place) were seated around the large dining room table. After choice of starters, Judith brought out a lasagna, a chicken casserole, a beef casserole, cauliflower, cabbage, and home baked bread. Then came dessert: home-made lemon meringue pie, home-made apple pie and ice cream followed by coffee. It was my 56^th birthday and I can’t remember a birthday dinner that I ever enjoyed more than this one. .

Day 16—September 24^th Littlebeck to Robin Hood’s Bay 12 miles

The obligatory "Just to prove we made it" photos

After a great night’s sleep and porridge (my favorite) for breakfast we bid our farewells and were off. [Note: I had taken a vow yesterday to forego cooked breakfasts for the duration of the trip to give my arteries a chance to unclog] Littlebeck is a charming if miniscule hamlet and the walk through the woods to the Hermitage is very pleasant. The Hermitage was very interesting—a stone cave carved out of solid rock in 1790. Then past Falling Foss, the Maybeck bridge and up the road to the moor in the direction of High Hawsker. During the last moor crossing before hitting the farm road at Low Hawsker, the signposts seem to disappear. After having led us dutifully across the moor, the guideposts, just when you need one the most, are nowhere to be found. There is actually one there pointing out the C to C but it is over by a fence corner and difficult to see. To follow the C to C path one is supposed to cross a field, hop a stile and then continue down a muddy dirt lane between two narrow hedgerows, but when you arrive at that stile and go into what you think is the hedgerow path, there is no reassuring sign that you are going right. This would have been nice. However, about 400 meters ahead, when you emerge from the muddy hedgerow path, the signpost is there. From there to a welcome lunch break at the Hare & Hounds in High Hawsker was another 30 minutes or so. A nice repast of Whitby cod and chips (and a half pint!—drinking at lunch—getting to be a habit…tsk, tsk) and then on to the coastal path to RHB.

Wending your way through the caravan park is the last navigational hurdle (if you want to call it that). Once through the caravan park, you are on the coastal path to RHB from which you cannot fail to emerge at the top end of the town. We tried to walk more slowly to savor the final few miles. But alas, we finished. We checked into our B&B (the Villa—very nice by the way) located just a few minutes from the end of the coastal path and then made our way down the steep, cobbled streets to the North Sea which had been drawing us magnetically for the past few weeks. Once at the sea, we walked into the water and there deposited into their new home the stones that we had dutifully carried from the Irish Sea. I must admit it felt very strange now to have finished what we had planned so hard and labored so long to achieve. While we were proud of our efforts, rather than feeling jubilant, we both felt a kind of melancholy sadness—no more would we be strapping on our boots every morning and marching into the unknown, weather or not. This real and palpable feeling was made all the more so by the throngs of weekend holiday makers who crowded the streets of RHB.

Dinner at the Victoria Hotel was excellent but the restaurant was fully booked and we got the last table in the bar. Everyone we knew who finished the trip that day was there—Debbie and Co. from Cornwall and the 3 guys from Seattle. We even met for the first time another C to C’er named Bob from Marblehead ,Massachusetts with whom, it turns out, we have friends in common.

The next day we took the 9:44 am bus to Scarborough and the 10:48 train to Manchester Airport. We stopped off in Manchester to have a look around for a few hours. Even though it was a Sunday, the crowds in downtown Manchester seemed oppressive—remember we had just come from Littlebeck (pop. 7) the day before. After 2 hours of Manchester, we had had enough and took the train to the airport and to the relative peace and quiet of our abode for the evening-- the Crowne Plaza Hotel—which we both thought was excellent and a comparative bargain at 65 GBP based on an advance non-cancelable booking. They even picked us up from the Airport train station and delivered us to Terminal 3 in the morning at no additional charge. The next day, we boarded the 8 hour flight to Chicago and then the 4 hour flight to San Francisco and our trip was officially history.

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