Distance: 14 miles
Ascent: 1,200 feet
Time: 6 hours 15
Weather: Mostly sunny. Cool. Biting wind (easterly) on moors. Milder in valleys.
Conditions: Moorland tracks, some muddy. Some lying snow on high ground. Country lanes.
[photo: The Birthday Party. Douglas, Mum, Mac, Em, Gabby, Simon, Ali, Harry, Juliet, Rob, Carol, Mr P, Reece. Behind the lens, Sherpa Dave]
After an excellent sociable breakfast we gathered outside The Lion for the now customary start of day photographs. The crowd that gathered, a fair proportion of those who have walked me or provided support, was a complete contrast to my solo departure from Kirkby Stephen a lifetime ago. It was an excited and emotional occasion.
[photo: Today's walkers: Top-Gun Rob, Reece, Mr P]
Reece began his stint today with talk of backpacking the Pennine Way. Rob and I exchanged a knowing glance that this enthusiasm would take a battering over the next five or six hours. It did, although to be fair to Reece he was back on the subject by dinner time and a plan was starting to form.
[photo: Contrast between moor and valley, Farndale]
The walk today started on the high North Yorkshire Moors, heading initially north and then east from The Lion. The is an exposed place and the strong easterly was bitingly cold after the warmth of the inn. A full three miles march took us to the landmark of Fat Betty and the turning nothing towards Glaisdale.
[photo: Fat Betty]
The second and longest phase of the walk took us down a long and faltering descent of Glaisdale Rigg. Here the contrast of high moorland and fertile valley was most apparent, with the mix towards valley growing with each mile.
In the third and final phase our route wound along the valley floor, starting at Glaisdale, then to Egton Bridge, and finally to Grosmont. The weather here was mild by comparison and in another context this would be a lovely amble.
[photo: First rest stop]
I guess some sort of hangover after yesterday's marathon was inevitable. Both Rob and I started the day nursing tired legs and sore feet, and Rob's heel injury had not improved much overnight.
[photo: On the right track]
For much of the walk today I was ready for it all to be over. There was nothing wrong with the surroundings, the moors and valleys were resplendent in the bright sunshine and cold clear light.
It's probably the case that after psyching ourselves up so much for yesterday and then a celebratory evening our mental preparation wasn't total, but I don't thing this was a key factor. I think I was just tired and increasingly conscious that I'm near the end.
[photo: Glaisdale Rigg]
The method I employed so successfully in the middle period of the walk, that of live the moment and don't think about the end, wasn't really much in evidence today. The objective for today was the destination not the experience. I broke my own rule.
That is, until we stopped for lunch at the 10 mile point, having broken the back of the walk. As we took the weight off our feet and chatted about stuff in general and long distance walking in particular it occurred to me that all this would soon be over. I didn't want it to be over. This was the very sort of moment that I have loved so much about my coast to coast.
[photo: Marching east]
This feeling was enhanced when in the first mile or so after our break we threaded our way through the enchanting East Arnecliff Wood. The terrain was undulating but the walking was easy along roughly laid stones. The bright sun twinkled through the trees and off streams and pools. It was an uplifting and at the same time melancholy interlude.
[photos: The lovely East Arnecliff Wood]
The final march into Grosmont was as brutal as the first 10 miles, with Rob needing to stop periodically to ease the discomfort in his foot. As is often the case though, after we'd finished the miles quickly fell away as we relaxed outside the Inn, satisfied with our achievement today and looking forward to a well earned rest.
The Grosmont Tavern has a fine location overlooking the railway station at the head of the line that runs steam trains to and from Pickering. It is like going back in time. The inn is a very ordinary place though, but I suppose comfortable enough for our needs. It seems to be a place that is run for the enjoyment of the landlord and his friends rather than the customers. This is the first time I've been underwhelmed by my accommodation on coast to coast.
[photo: Grosmont]
And so to tomorrow. This is it, the last day. It's come around quickly, although my adventures in The Lakes seem like a lifetime ago. Indeed even the trek from Kirkby Stephen to Keld at half way when I felt at my very best feel long in the past.
I look forward to the morning with mixed emotions. I am ready to get it done, and surely barring some disaster I will reach Robin Hood's Bay tomorrow. I am now tired and ready for a rest, and it would be nice to go home (although my homesickness has largely dissipated now that Carol and McKenzie are with me). I know Rob is tired and ready for a rest, and I also know he will keep going as long as I do, such is his commitment to stick with me.
I am also sorry it's about to come to an end. It has been a wonderful adventure, and when I let it go I'm not sure if I'll be able to get the feeling back.
But my plan was to finish it tomorrow and that is what I'll do. I will do my very best to have the experience as my objective and not the destination. I will try to live every last moment of my coast to coast.
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