I dozed off last night to absurd radio coverage of the football transfer deadline and with my mind suitably numbed slept like a log. This morning my body also feels rather numb but I’ll take that over pain.
The farmhouse breakfast is splendid. I chose the scrambled eggs because I met the hens yesterday and sure enough they have dark yellow yolks and taste like they are supposed to. It occurs to me that many supermarket shoppers will never have experienced this.
Outside the Labrador slavers against the glass door (perpetually hungry according to my host) while some kind of digging is taking place on the farm involving industrial machinery and swearing.
Day 2 may not be the shortest leg but it should be the easiest as it is a very flat walk. The sun is breaking through the clouds as I set off and my body jolts as it is refamiliarised with the burden on my back. The hip is still nagging but hopefully it will clear up.
As I leave the farm a “Sherpa Van” pulls up with a delivery of rucksacks belonging to walkers due to arrive later who didn’t want to carry their loads. I decided against this when planning the walk but right now it’s looking tempting.
Sutton Bank is legendary not just because of the 25% inclined road that I drove up on Sunday but because of the panoramic view from the cliff edge.
A residual morning haze is reducing visibility but the views are great all the same. I’m unable to see the white horse carved into the hillside below nor do I spot any gliders that take off from the airfield nearby but that’s fine as I would only be tempted into taking photos that wouldn’t turn out.
The way is now delightfully level and soft, reminiscent of a former walk in the Isle Of Wight so soft and green it was like a stairway to heaven. This is the Hambleton Road – a wide grassy drovers track that has been in use since at least the bronze age. Trees obscure much of the panoramic view but it’s pleasant all the same.
When I reach moorland I am somewhat disappointed to discover that the heather has already bloomed and the purples have started to fade.
DISASTER! I drop my camera for the hundredth time. Unlike the previous 99 occasions my battered and much abused travel buddy is beyond repair. On just my second day of ten I have no camera! Some things you just can’t plan for. There’s a cameras on my phone but it’s very poor.
A grouse chooses this moment to land right beside me like it knows I can’t record the event. As I reflect on my misfortune over lunch the first walker I have seen today stops for a chat. John is a seasoned and knowledgeable hiker who is full of good stories and we walk and talk for quite some time until our paths part. I suppose the paucity of walkers is due to the fact that this section of the path runs 10 miles with nothing much en-route and casual walkers would choose paths that are shorter or circular.
The ease of today’s walk has presented no serious physical problems and John’s enthusiasm (he has hiked to Kilimanjaro and Everest base camp while feeling under the weather) has driven me on to be undeterred by any manageable bodily complaints from here on.
The approaches to Osmotherly are intensely populated with busy butterflies and spooked grouse. It is almost comical as each step sends more wildlife running from the verges.
Landlady Anne is lovely and after I’m showered she tells me all about the long distance walkers that stay with her. She has a formidable knowledge of the Cleveland Way, Coast To Coast and other walks and seems to know all of the landlords on the routes.
The blinding low evening sun casts the quaint stone buildings of the village in a favourable light. Not for me however – I’m online ordering a camera from Argos to be delivered to the camping barn in Kildale where I’m due to stay in two days time. I phoned them first to make sure they were OK with the delivery – what must they think?
On leaving the Queen Victoria pub I’m amused to see a horse rider drinking from a wine glass while saddled up. She’s talking with more conventionally seated punters and I can only presume she didn’t enter the pub with the horse to order the wine. Cue joke: A horse walks into a bar. The bartender asks – “Why the long face?”
The broken camera distraction and a lack of reliable broadband have left me behind on my blogging but I’ll catch up when circumstances allow. By the time I’m walking back to my lodgings it’s cool outside and pitch black, stars shining brightly. There’s a bear on my bed and when I asked Anne what it was called she told me it had no name! I decide to call it Osmond and then settle in for the night. What a curious day, I’ve ordered a camera, spotted a rider drinking in the saddle and named a bear. I wonder what tomorrow will bring…
Here’s today’s walk in point form…
In a nutshell
An easy walk with great views
The peace and solitude with very few walkers on the route
Breaking my camera
I haven’t walked three consecutive days in almost 30 years. Will my fitness be up to it?
|Stage||2 – Cold Kirby to Osmotherley|
|Distance||13.0 miles||Speed||3.2 mph|
…and the route taken…