Day 11

We’re here, Robin Hood’s Bay. 192 miles, and no more……

A little weep in the shower just now at the enormity of it all and the emotional energy generated by reaching the end of the walk. pictures and more to follow but right now we need to go and eat and drink and be very, very merry…….

After a lot of beer and a bit of sleep, here are the pictures. The last day was very hot, lots of sunshine and a couple of sneaky, steep hills to whip us for one last time on the walk. A 2.5k diversion around the beautiful village of Littlebeck caused us a little concern but we managed to put it behind us as the coast drew nearer. Great views down on Whitby and then we hit the coast. A 3 mile stroll around the cliff edge and there it was, Robin Hood’s Bay. David on the rocks, video camera in hand and the sea was washed onto our boots. Champagne to celebrate on the beach and then of to Wainwright’s bar to applaud other groups in…..(and a beer of course!)…….

Day 10

Day 10, DAY 10, THAT’s DAY 10. OH! YES!…..

A just incredibly hot day across the Glaisdale Moorland and Glaisdale Rigg.

The day strted late at 10am today. Partly because we’re now within shorter striking distance of the sea (only 18 miles left to do now) so an 18 mile day was not seen to be too stressful after the day across the Vale of Mowbray…. Also, we were looking for a sandwich for lunch. According to the shop, they were all sold out yesterday and new sandwiches don’t arrive untill lunchtime….

We pressed on, up on to the moor and onto the old track of the Glaisdale Moor tramway. A pretty decent three hours later we reached the world famous Lion Inn on the top of the moor and found a most acceptable lunch (and small pint to help it down). So the sandwich wasn’t missed.

After that it was a sweltering hot afternoon. Helped along by great chat with the Sheffield crew (Simon, Mark and Tim) that we have been tracking and swapping stories with throughout the walk. Glaisdale village only for them today and on to Egton Bridge for us. That’s 172 miles in the bin for us and a day we have been looking forward to tomorrow. Hopefully, fingers crossed for sunshine as we hit the seaside…….

Day 9

The Wainstones Hotel in Great Broughton……

After 9 days we sit in the bar of the Wainstones hotel in Great Broughton. Internet access comes in 1 hour slices here so you have to be quick. Try to upload more than 20 photos and you are kicked out, they are safe in the media library which I think you can see from our blog but to get them to appear here is more of a challenge. With tired legs and tired brains we stand a small, no, diminishingly small chance of getting the pictures to you. The affect of the beer is, of course, of no consequence whatsoever.

The day was warm and beautiful again. Clouds keeping us safe form the burning sun after the cook to a crisp yomp across the Vale of Mowbray yesterday. We left the very strange Vane House in Osmotherly at 9:30 this morning and set off back up the hill out of the village. 12 stations of the cross greeted us to the top of the hill which was rather a test for us. From there, however it was a marvelous walk along the crest of the Cleveland Hills across the plain to Middlesborough and Teeside.

Kitkat breaks and Lunch lying in the heather looking down on the rest of civilisation going about its business seemed far too relaxing and calm to be real. Nontheless we did our best to enjoy the experience before an afternoon of ups and downs to the Wainstones and the car park on Clay Bank Top where David arrived to tarnsport us to our current haven….

Day 7

The boys are in yet another internet access free zone unable to give you todays details.  They will be back online as soon as they can.  They have arrived safely in Richmond and have met up with David their support for the next week, 118 miles have now been completed.

Day 6

Kirkby Stephen to Muker…..

On what would have been a great day for sunshine and lots of warm air and blue skies we wake to spots of rain and hills shrouded in clouds. No shorts today then. As we breakfast the clouds lift so we can see the hills at least.

9:32 and we’re off, Thanks to the taxi company driver getting us back to our end point from yesterday and also donating £5 to the scouts fund….. Over Frank’s Bridge and once again its a relentless two and a half hours of up. The wind is behind us now but very cold. Apparently the winter snow only shifted from here last month. The boys opt initially for T-shirts, then they don’t. by the top we’re hidden in hoods and hoodies. Nine Standards is a stunning display of man built archaeology that may be 300 years old or 2000. Apparently this is a mistery…. I reckon some local lads had a bet about 300 years ago over a beer…. Even Cian and Ed seem impressed and that takes effort….

South’ish across the peat bogs. similar to Kinder Scout its a completely new experience for the boys and they find the landscape bizzare and then entertaining as the first foot to disappear in bog (Richard’s) is claimed. Easy for them as they now get to escape back down the M6 to GX. Takes a lunchtime sit by a road where some 100′s of cyclists are racing by before they go. Quote of the day “I’ve had enough of this b…. wind” from one distinguished looking cyclist.

On then through moorland to Keld and Muker. At last time for the beers….

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Day 5

Shap to Kirkby Stephen…… Ed and Cian are with us today so we have to look like we know where we’re going. Early schoolboy error of relying on local advice sees us climbing fences and yomping sheepfields to the M6 motorway bridge. Any potential for looking good gone. Probably for the best.

Nonetheless, 9k passing the West coast mainline, Open Cast Quarries, Oddendale and Robin Hood’s Grave (not) is gone in a flash and the boys are off for lunch. Not so for us as its the next 10 k to the post lunch rendevous. Strangely alll the other coast to coasters seem to have vanished at this point but we stick faithfully to AW’s route and lunch by Sunbiggin Tarn before meeting up again.

The 11k in to KS is a stretch for everyone as the day wears on but Smardale Bridge is pretty and the Viaduct (disused railway) gets Graham going, Not to mention the Settle to Carlisle line with actual trains on…..

Kirkby Stephen is an old sort of place that is clearly getting used to the C2C as drinks prices seem to have gone up in the last 19 miles…..

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Day 4

Shap Abbey…they were so small 500 yrs ago

Shap Abbey...they were so small 500 yrs ago

Day 4, and the rain finally worked out we were here. Stepping out from the White Lion in Patterdale and it was already raining. The cloud was low and the hills were high. Not a good combination. The first two hours was relentless uphill followed by relentless uphill with added rain thrown in. The C2C crew were scattered to the winds as different parties tried to figure out the best way to the top, only to find themselves reuniting as the top of Kidsty Pike got closer. A chap with a GPS and a guidebook stayed suspiciously close to us for quite sometime. When we turned at a junction in the track he started to carry straight on and we wished him well on his visit to High Street. He immediately said “Oh, yes… I’m following this…. And its going where your going…”

Of Kidsty and out of the wind. Still cold, lunch by Haweswater. Cold and wet, we opt for the south side ….

Eventually, the Lake district gives way to the countryside around Shap and we zero in on the ruins of Shap Abbey. At which point Colin thinks he might lie down dead. Finding this to be uncomfortable, we carry on to the Greyhound in Shap. A great place to stay. Alison, Ed and Cian arrive some time later…….

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Day 3

I sit on my small double bed looking out at the climb up to Angle Tarn out of Patterdale. It’s the end of day 3. I’m shattered. My feet hurt and my legs ache. I’m amazed that we have made three days of what would in prior years have been killer walks to be done as single days followed by more gentle strolls around the countryside.

We stepped out of the Scafell Hotel in Rosthwaite this morning at 9:15 and set about the day’s task. The plan, Grasmere for lunch and then on to Patterdale. Both legs of the day requiring that we cross a lake district mountain boundary. The morning from Borodale to Grasmere and the afternoon a crossing of the Fairfield Helvellyn range to Patterdale. 

The climb out of Rosthwaite was steady and immediate. A good 2 hours of up with a mean stretch up below Eagle Crag, a spectacular outcrop on the right hand side for most of that stretch. The views back to Rosthwaite and Stonethwaite were spectacular.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Then the climb up to Greenup Edge. The agony. The debris of humanity destroyed as they flogged themselves at the relentless up. On to some flat. Navigation required to avoid the wrong valley down with the wind getting up and the look in the eye of the cloud that said “yes, poor walker, you are destined to get wet”. Then down, Far Easdale, far from easy but better than staying on the windblown tops. And so to Grasmere and the best meat pie today…..

The afternoon was rearranged, St Sunday Crag consigned to a later revisit. Up to Grisedale tarn was the plan snd then down Grisedale itself. The joints were definitely tentative after lunch as they realised that they had been misled. Not for them the shower and beers but another 11k of beating and up and down. The RAF put in an appearance with a flypast to wish us on our way. Graham locked himself into the Rolling Stones and was gone. Colin and Richard moved on up. The groups we are meeting now are serious about the task. The 15 to 20 day crew are drifting gently down from Greenup Edge towards Grasmere. Only the 11 to 13 day few are mad enough to be here now. The bonds are starting to show,. You’ve passed the first test and your really pushing for Patterdale. The climb up to Grisedale is a killer. But nobody lies down on the job now.

A rest at the tarn and its onto the descent. With a kitkat at the halfway hut and the drinks tube switched to reserve its really aching now. But no one is going to stop now. Round the woods and over the bump of a hill at the top of the village and there it is, The White Lion, our sanctuary for the evening….. Get the beers in……

Day 1

This is it, we’ve talked the talk and now we need to walk the walk…..

It’s 530am, the birds have been singing since 4:15 and I’ve definitely been hearing them on and off since then. The sun is up and, over the land at least, the sky is blue.  It’s day 1. After five months of practice and planning, this is it, the real thing, the Coast to Coast. Adrenalin at this time of day is not something I’m used to. I expect I’ll sleep tonight and struggle to find the day tomorrow.

St Bees is small and quiet at this time of day. From my window I am looking out over the remains of the old priory and church that was the foundation of the place.  The sandstone walls of the square church tower still cold and damp in the dawn. I can see a large bank of clouds sitting just off the coast. They look pink and white in the early light of sunrise. Hopefully, the day will warm and they will be evaporated away and leave us with a glorious start to the adventure. Behind the village, in the fields on the hill, this year’s lambs are already running around and stretching themselves out as the day begins. The village, still in shadow, is stirring and the first sounds of an engine turning over are drifting across the playing fields of the old Grammar school. As I type, the early morning traffic for Sellafield, only a mile or two along the coast from here, is starting to pass by Abbey Farmhouse, our stop for the night. The sun is definitely here. Let’s get to it.

After a great breakfast, we left St Bees at 9:20 this morning. The sky was blue and the sun was shining as bright as we’ve seen in weeks. Perhaps that volcanic ash is still having an affect around here.

St Bees Head

After a quick run down to the sea, we said goodby to Martin who was really good to drive us up to St Bees last night but now had to get back to do the football training run…. And then we were walking. Up and around St Bees Head. Bright blue sky and sea, reasonably bracing breeze, it has to be said. But beautiful for all that. Great view out to the Isle of Man and up to the Scottish coast. Eventually, the cliff curls around, passing the St Bees Head Lighthouse and looks down on Whitehaven and a serious amount of windfarm. Then at 11:15 its goodbye to the coast on the Irish Sea side. Next sea at Robin Hood’s Bay.

The walk down towards Cleator was farmland and pretty standard stuff. Of course, there had to be a railway to cross. And we had to get excited about it. Then we stopped for Richard to fix his foot. A couple of moles slayed for their skins and everything is right as rain apparently. Stanley Pool was supposed to be very muddy but wasn’t and the disused railway line was supposed to be on the road we came out on to but wasn’t. Minor temporal shift left apparently. Regardless, we tracked down the trail of the old rail and before we knew it Moor Row was a distand memory and we were looking forward to those sandwiches from the shop recommended at breakfast.

The sandwiches (and pies, more to the point) that were recommended at breakfast were all sold out bar one when we arrived at 12:45. Richard quickly bought and snaffled the last remaining tuna mayo. Colin looked on and Graham claimed he wasn’t hungry before devouring a tin of biscuits.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

It was then time to climb Dent. The first real hill. By this time we were getting to know a variety of other groups on the route. Brits, Americans, Kiwis, Aussies, all tracing out their own versions of the route with paths crossing from time to time. Some overtook others before falling back to rest. We thought the climb up Dent was steep. The view was tremendous from the top. Then came the down. Very down, toe crushingly down. Bodies everywhere. wrecks of bodies that had only moments before been confident hillwalkers. The valley below strewn with the aged and infirm now unable to move. And what next, you ask in that mild enquiring tone, dear reader. Ah yes, the Nannycatch gate (stile to you and me) followed instantly by more serious up. 

Some time later,….. Up. Its off to the Kiniside stone circle. Is it real? And before you know it the end is in sight. Enerdale Bridge and the Shepherds Arms beckons. Beer is drunk and before you know it John has arrived to whisk us away to the delight that is the Parkside Hotel (ask me about that one later)……. See you tomorrow……xx

Arriving in St Bees

We’ve arrived. The journey up was long but Martin coped admirably. The emergency stop wasn’t at all worrying. The kids in the back were a bit green around the gills after the two hours of winding roads around the Cumbrian coast. Won’t take too long for the smell to wear off in Martin’s car. Any way we’re here and tomorrow we walk……

St Bees