Reeth to Carperby

Wednesday 28 April 2009

(Walking Distance: 11 miles)

Greets Hill

Bolton Castle

Breakfast was interesting. All the other guests were members of the vocal ladies walking group last met in the Kings Arms. They were, like me, heading home today. Coincidentally the walk leader came from Swainby, near Northallerton, my lift, John’s, birthplace. She knew his brother.

It was a dry, pleasant, if hazy, morning. I left for what I’d anticipated to be an easy ten mile walk to Aysgarth, where I’d arranged to meet John. The route headed south over moorland back into Wensleydale, crossing Apedale, an intervening valley, before descending to the River Ure.

Except in complicated surroundings I try to avoid walking with my nose in the map, preferring to study the route beforehand and navigating from memory, with only occasional reference to the Ordinance Survey or guidebook. This approach usually works well leaving the mind free to absorb and admire the surroundings. It does, however, have some drawbacks

I walked up the lane, passing a minor junction and the youth hostel, before hauling myself up onto the open moor. I was looking for a track off to the right: I found one but it didn’t quite match the description I’d read earlier. I belatedly consulted the map and realised I’d missed the lane to Redmire and continued along the road to Leyburn.

The good news was that I heard the first cuckoo of the season on the way up. The bad news was the two and a half miles extra distance and three hundred foot of wasted ascent.

Eventually I got back on route and found the track across the moor to the day’s highpoint, Greets Hill. The weather didn’t deliver the promised vista, however. Whilst the mist wasn’t bad enough to hinder navigation it limited the view to just a mile or two.

Apedale was suitably bleak, Black Hill was almost easy: might be getting fitter? I stopped for a break above Bolton Castle when the sun finally appeared.

It was getting near the three o’clock appointment with my lift. In the pastures after Bolton Castle my phone sprang to life, the first signal of the trip. It was John. Another half mile and I was done.