WE DID IT !!

Day 10: Grosmont/Whitby to Robin Hood's Bay

Erica:  this last day, we changed the usual route to the end of the trail to include a short bus ride to Whitby and then a 7 mile hike down the cliffs south to Robin Hood's Bay. It was a warm, sunny day and we pulled off all of the warm layers that had kept us through the previous week. The cliffs are circled by seabirds and topped with perfect, bright green fields manicured into perfect lawns by perfect cloud-like sheep.

The ruins of Whitby Abbey, overlooking the town . Evidently, this was the inspiration for Dracula

Yeah, this is a sheep shot

The trail dips and climbs over the headlands and suddenly turns a corner and there's Robin Hood's Bay. Besides being the end of the Coast to Coast Trail, the town is famous for smuggling and press gangs (thugs who kidnapped people to serve in the Navy). After 10 days on the trail, we were disreputable enough to feel right at home.

We put our boots into the sea

The custom is to dip your boots in the Irish Sea at the start of the trail at St. Bees, and then again in the North Sea at Robin Hood's Bay. I stood in the water at St, Bees five years ago and here we are today! Different trip, different companion, even different boots. But we've stitched the country together, step by step, from edge to edge.

I can't hold it all in my head at once, although every single day's memories are vivid. I can't hold all of the colors of fields, heather and sea and the textures of stone, grass and wood. Villages, roads, farms, churches are all distinct but then blur together again.  But everything is tied together with the steady rhythm of walking.

Now we start home, and should be in London by evening. I know it'll be a strange day. Part is going back into the city and home/work life. But most of it will be that we won't be shouldering our packs and walking out across the fields, We've looked forward to this trip for many months, walked it for many days, and now, very simply,  it's done.

Sarah: So this magical journey is coming to its natural end;  in the sheer physical sense  our work is done.  but my  memories are of our footsteps travelling across the  ridges and valley folds of a diverse and rich landscape that is eons old. It will take me some time to let it all assimilate, but for now there is a deep joy in having accomplished our goal. So many thanks to all our supporters far and wide - you were with us on this adventure all the way!

SISTERS 104 MILES   - BLISTERS  5  ( and every one worth it  )

If you'd like to celebrate our adventure with a donation to the Lyons Library, please check out our GoFundMe site: ‭https://gofundme.com/blister-sisters-hike-100

 

Sarah wringing out her sock having been forcibly pulled into
 the sea by Erica: a long established ritual  marking the end of the Coast 2 Coast

We are added to the record of fame in Wainwright's favorite pub

Toot toot!

Day 9: Rest day in Grosmont

Erica: we needed this. Eight days on the trail and Sarah's feet were hurting and my back was starting to spasm. We had planned an exra day here because of the railway steam train that passes through the town. We had a Thomas-the-Tank-Engine morning! After a fun ride, we did a bit of shopping in the "Big Town" of Pickering. This was for Tylenol and blister remedies, in the biggest grocery store we'd seen since  London.

But we still couldn't stop ourselves from walking. On the return trip we got off the trail a few miles from Grosmont and walked back through the green Esk River valley. The weather is turning sunny and I'm starting to fret about how much I'll miss walking through this countryside.

Our day off

This is Sarah's fantasy house 

Sisters: 97 miles        

Blisters: aw, who cares now, we're so close!

I can see the sea, I can see it!

Day 8: Blakey Ridge to Grosmont

Sarah: Our day typically begins around 6:30 with English tea for one particular Blister Sister. We check the weather, repack our cases (yet again), pack our rucksacks with essentials for the day - enough layers for whatever happens,  waterproof pants, winter hat and gloves, maps and our ‘Bible,’ Steadman’s “Coast to Coast”, 1.5. Litres of water, 1st aid kit, pen knife, rubber bands, duck tape, blister dressings, athletic tape, change of socks...........etc. etc.  after 80 miles, everything but the duck tape and 1st aid kit  have been used repeatedly.

Setting out in driving rain

Today was our last up on the moors - that rugged, quilted landscape of heathers, bobbing wild flowers, rock cairns and silent, ancient standing stones. Runnels of trickling water find their way into tiny streams stained a reddish ochre from all the remains of  now invisible and disused lead mines pockmarking  the landscape,  long since heather covered.   Bright  green mossy lichens  glow in the rising and setting sun.  We can walk for hours up here seeing no one, or suddenly encounter others hiking the C2C in the next dip.  Skies are enormous, constantly on the move in the layers of breezes, gusts and winds.

Patchwork of moorland colors

"Fat Betty". where hikers leave offerings of no longer needed granola bars- the end is in sight!

Rosedale Moor Standing Stone

But when we began today, all we saw was swirling mist shrouding the land, rain stinging our faces as we were blown and buffeted by the winds. All very Gothic and so pleased we got to experience the moors when the going got really rough - it felt more complete somehow.

Transition from upland moors to farming valley floor 

Within two hours, winds, sun and clouds were playing hide and seek and there, way off in the distance, I could see the thinnest line of azure on the horizon. The kaleidoscope of the valley floor
below was completely different - patterns formed by rich grazing and agricultural land and we began to descend into a whole new area rich in farmland, small hamlets, an occasional pub! But not before that azure line had become a wide band of lavender clearly signifying we were nearly there - the North Sea and Robin Hood’s Bay - over 100 miles from where we began our Blister Sisters Trek.

Tomorrow is a rest day for bones, backs and blisters. They all need it., then our last day............

Sisters: 93 miles and a glimpse of the sea!     Blisters: "counting 1, 2, 3 -ow- 4, 5, all healing slowly"

"Beggar's Bridge in the Esk Valley

Library Landscapes

Day 7:  Clay Bank Top to the Lion Inn at Blakey Moor



Erica: Today was an easy day across flat moorland. We took it slow, with a picnic and lots of time to admire the views from the windy, lonely purple moors down to impossibly green farm valleys.



 I'm brought back to the bookshelves of the library I grew up in: the flower- and lark-filled moors above gloomy Misselthwaite Manor and its Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett);  Bonnie and Sylvia fleeing the Wolves of Willoughby Chase with only their wits and a fowling-piece to save them (Joan Aiken); and the Proud-but-Prejudiced Elizabeth at dour-but-hunky Darcy's Pemberley Estate (Jane Austen).

'The first half of the Coast-to-Coast trail climbs through the Lake District, home of  plucky Peter Rabbit (Beatrix Potter) and the sailing adventures of the Swallows and Amazons (Arthur Ransome). Barbecued Billygoats! I think I may be doing this hike in large part from a pent-up literary yearning.

But today the moors were far from gloomy or gothic. We had some sunny weather and gentle walking over the rolling hills. Grouse, golden plovers and curlews, rabbits and, of course, lots of sheep. Blisters and sore knees had a chance to rest. At at the end of the day, The Lion Inn, perched alone on a windy ridge, offers unexpectedly fluffy pillows, hot baths and the prospect of a half-pint (or pint) and a good dinner to come.

The trekker's life for me!

Every mile we walk raises funds for the Lyons Library! My childhood library brought me here. If you'd like to learn more and perhaps help another generation discover the world, please visit: https://www.gofundme.com/blister-sisters-hike-100

Sisters: 78.5 miles   Blisters: at least no new ones today!

Even Moor Ups and Downs

Day 6.   Osmotherley to Clay Bank Top  



Sarah:  Up and up then plunging down, then more up and down over and over and over. We have a drinking song for this for today now!

The higher we climb the more cider we drink

The more cider we drink the better we feel

We'd better get over the aches and the pains

'Cause we'll get up tomorrow and do it again!

There were great things today -   we saw the sun.......... all day!!!  WE also glipsed our ultimate destination, the North Sea,  misty and way off in the distance from our highest points. Best of all - we are finally  up on the North York Moors where I have spent many wonderful times hiking in the past with my late husband.  The Secret Garden book was set here and it  a magical place of dipping and diving birds, calf high, springy heather with tiny bell-like purple flowers  covering and clinging to the hillsides despite the fierce winds so fierce we were nearly blown over.



This morning, the  Coast to Coast joined a National long distance path called the Cleavelean Way where we moved steadily eastward  on Yorkstone slabs about 3' x 18" somehow inlaid onto the rollercoaster like moors making the path easy to follow even if the mists swirl and sweep over the entire hillside.

I found today physically draining - my phone app said we climbed the equivalent of 17 floors - 1,700 feet and covered 11.5 miles.  But we did it !   And my goodness, the hot bath I've just had did wonders.

“At first people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done—then it is done” 
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden


Sisters: 69 miles.   Blisters: 5

Walking becomes the world

Day 5: Danby Whiske to Osmotherly



Erica: Today was a good day's walk, 11 miles, mostly through fields and along country lanes. We've worked our way across the Mowbray valley that divides the Yorkshire Dales and North Yorkshire Moors. The Coast-to-Coast was first laid out by iconic rambler Alfred Wainwright in the 1970s. He walked all over northern England and was an energetic advocate for trails and keeping the rights-of-way open for hikers. English law protects the rights of walkers to traverse ancient routes, even if they go through private land and sometimes even right through farmyards. Wainwright's beautiful hand-illustrated books and maps made these paths accessible and beloved. But he turned his nose up at this flat valley and Coast-to-Coasters are often advised to grind through it in a single 23-mile day. Sensibly, we broke it up into two.

Wainwright tried to keep the path in the countryside as much as possible. For us, this meant pushing through waist-deep pasture grass, climbing over stiles into thorn and thistle patches and gagging at the smell of pig farms. But these were all better than following busy roads where the cars inexplicably passed us on the wrong side of the road. We did have to run across the A19 highway, but that was the biggest reminder of the modern world that we faced today.

  

We've now passed the 50-mile mark: half way! We're deep in walking mode now. At some point in a long-distance hike, your mind and body start to believe that this is what you're actually destined to do: get up each day and walk. Even the weird  names of the villages are less weird (but still: Osmotherly?) We've learned the habits that sustain us. For Sarah, the familiar comforts of multiple cups of tea per day and chocolate. For Erica: exotic treats like McVitties Digestive Biscuits and licorice allsorts. But we're appreciative of "trail angels" like the folks at Wray House, who leave an assortment of food, drink, bandaids and Tylenol for hikers.



At the end of the day we entered the forests of the Cleveland hills. We've seen them for two days, pale blue on the horizon and becoming more solid every mile. Tomorrow we start to climb.

Sisters: 58 miles     Blisters: 5 (all on the same foot)

From moors to flatlands under skulking skies

Day 4: Richmond to Danby Whiske

Sarah: We woke to sulking grey skies, rain and an anticipated hike across suburbs, flatlands and an enormous motorway (the A1). So, instead, we went in style on the #55 bus for 15 minutes.




 Getting off in tiny Bolton-on-Swale, we found the stunning, well cared for village church - guessing 14th Century.  The trail was way marked and off we went  through endless fields of sheep, cows and huge expanses of wheat, barley and meadow grass dancing  under still sulky, pewter skies. Today  had  cameo appearances of the odd farmer, two or three of groups of hikers, including 3 local women who’ve been hiking together for 36 years. Most of the time, including long miles  on a single track lane, the only sounds came from English birds of fields and hedgerows: wrens, yellowhammers, thrushes, robins and warblers.

We found our village for the night a bit early- so a wonderful chance to spend an hour in the 11 th C church yard. Inside a stunning yet simple church with Norman windows and font, to my great delight we discovered an altar, altar rail and vestry door made by The Mouseman’ of Kilburn, N. Yorkshire in the early 20th century. On each and every piece of furniture, he carved his trademark of a unique 2-3” mouse. He is world famous, but probably not quite in Lyons yet!

The  village pub offered enough space and draft beers  / ciders to please all. Turns out everyone in the place  had been playing   tag across  fields & moors  and up and over the Pennines for the last four days. 12 pairs of boots were airing outside - they’d got caught in a drenching downpour we had avoided only thanks to the 15 minute bus ride as we began this morning.

Sisters: 47 miles      Blisters: 1.5  (but healing)

Thank you, Kirt from Utah, for your donation to the Lyons Library! Great to have dinner with your at the White Swan tonight!

Gates

Day 3: Reeth to Richmond

Erica: Today's hike took us out of Swaledale and over the hills, through little stone villages, among sheep and cows, and across high hayfields full of clover and buttercups.  There were a few small incidents: stinging nettles, cow pies, freshly manured fields and treacherous stiles over the drystone walls.  And getting lost. And lost again.  Much of our day today was: we walk through a wide field. A tiny gate across an 8 inch gap in the wall opens to the next field and we peer ahead to spot the tiny gate on the far side. Which opens to the next field, which we hope is the right field....

Our guidebook is the excellent "Coast to Coast Path" by Henry Stedman, who provides hand-drawn maps and quirky comments for every step. When your feet are starting to hurt, it's nice to know about raspberries or martyr's graves along the roadside, or the exact location of a bench. Even though we kept him always at hand, we still had a few extra wanders the wrong way down country lanes.

After squeezing through so many tiny gates it was nice to find one we could just walk around!

We're starting to get into the physical and mental rhythm of the walk. Our legs are getting stronger and the miles are going faster. The stories we tell ramble along with our path. I think Sarah's are getting more outlandish, filled with amorous aristrocrats and rodeo queens. I try to keep pace by singing Janis Joplin and Scottish drinking songs. 



Alas, today also brought us our first official blister. I won't tell you whose it is. It's not as bad as it looks- I just have an affinity for rebuilding tender feet with large amounts of white adhesive tape.  Nick gave me three rolls as a going-away present, so we're ready for anything!

 


At the end of the day we walked into Richmond, the largest town on the entire Coast to Coast. It a very nice town, with a pretty church, an impressive castle and a busy market square.  After tiny towns like Keld and Marske, it seems full of people, noise and traffic and is a little off-putting. We did, however, have a very nice dinner which did not involve dubious attempts at vegetarian fare by pub cooks who would really prefer that you just had the sausages and chips.

Tomorrow is a partial rest day. The path leads from Richmond though some industrial neighborhoods and under the A-1 highway. We'll cut our miles back by taking a bus through that bit and walk through more countryside to our next town, Danby Whiske (don't you love the name? Neither of us know what a Whiske is). The weather report says rain, so wish us luck staying warm and dry!

Sisters: 40 miles,  Blisters: 1.5

Thank you to everyone who is following us across England! Generous donations to the Lyons Library have been coming in from our community, friends and family and even people we've met along the way. You walk with us every step!

Bah!

Remote and wild Swaledale

Sarah:  The day began with rain squalls from the North and the wind battering at our backs - this lasted all morning!



Blown down trees blocked our path a couple of times as we threaded our way on a river side path from Keld to Muker,  a tiny York stone village with 3 pubs, a 10' x  8' village shop  and stone houses with roses round the door - really!

The Muker church show Jesus as a shepherd, of course,
and with the local breed of sheep in his flock

Although the wind whipped our hair and tore at our backs, the day ended gloriously striding out high up above  Swaledale. Tonight we are in Reeth, a 17th C town with a 5 acre village green basking in evening sun.  Next stop - a local pub for cider and supper!

This packhorse bridge over the River Swale is only 7 feet wide! 

Sisters 26 miles; Blisters  0

Bog Blog

Our first day on the trail!

The hike out of Kirkby Stephen over the hills to the almost-town of Keld is known as one of the biggest slogs on the Coast-to-Coast trail. We tackled and conquered it- our Colorado lungs helped a lot.  So did the big English breakfast (I did regret the smoked kippered herring). The top of climb is marked by huge cairns at Nine Standards Rigg and a terrific view across the valleys and distant hills. And that's also where the wind started.

Sheep before being slurped into the bog

It was grey and cold, but we dodged the rain. We walked on soft, springy peat, and then on soft, sodden peat, Some other hikers told us that we were really lucky- the bogs were are dry as they'd ever seen. This meant that at times we were not actually in ankle-deep mud. I did sink a hiking pole a good foot into the bog, and was happy that it wasn't my leg doing down to the knee in cold black water. They talk about sheep disappearing into the bog, and I'll believe it.





We hiked through bogs and mud for most of the day and eventually descended into the top of the Swaledale Valley. There we found one of the great joys of hiking in England- scones, cream and jam and a cup of tea served at a farm right on the trail.

Our last miles were a gradual drop down a beautiful green valley. We descended into relative civilization with grey stone barns, flocks of sheep and even a road. About 12 miles from Kirby Stephen we arrived at the Keld Lodge for a hot shower and a glass of hard cider (another joy of England). We send our love (from the pub) to everyone in Lyons!   Sisters: 14, Blisters: 0