Coast to Coast: Day 8 – Reeth to Richmond

(22nd March 2013 – 12½ miles)

The following morning the sun had gone (and would barely reappear for the rest of my 200 mile stroll) and a gusting wind blew horizontal, wet snow across the village of Reeth.


The Green, Reeth

But on the plus side, The Manse had washed all of my dirty laundry free of charge (how kind is that?  How brave?) and laid on a breakfast of perfect scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, toast and a fruit salad that I could have eaten, slowly, all day long.  As I sipped my coffee and looked out at the wind-driven sleet, I groaned.  I really didn’t fancy walking today.  Nope, I really didn’t.  I wanted nothing other than to flop down on the rug in front of the open fire and puzzle over jigsaws … with perhaps a little light crayoning and colouring-in to jazz up my day.

But we did have to press on and so – with one last, sad glance at the roaring fire – Pat and I donned several layers and set out, heroically, into the biting cold and driving snow.

IMG_8071 Fixed

Me leaving Reeth – Pat’s photo

There were no extensive views today


as the path wandered through woods and cut across farmland.  I suspect even on clear days, this stage would be a little low-key.  It was pretty enough, but there was no great excitement, no thrills and I suspect the snow added a layer of beauty and interest that it might not otherwise have had.


The blizzard-lite conditions obscured the path and sleet scratched our eyeballs – looking up was painful.  So, for the most part, I traipsed behind Pat, head down, humming show-tunes.


I’m sure in finer, clearer weather the views would have been gentle and pastoral but frankly, who knows?  Perhaps they’re not; perhaps they’re horrid.


Squeeze stile.  They could have just put up a sign – “No fat thighs beyond this point”

Unsurprisingly the snow was untrodden,


the paths unused


as we followed more of those helpful, handmade signposts.


In places the snow began to drift and as it continued to fall


flocks of sheep approached us – presumably hungry.


We didn’t know then but thousands of sheep and lambs died in the coming days: buried by drifting snow, next to walls where they had sought shelter.  (But not these sheep.  We were lower down and further east than the truly awful, sheep-killing weather).


As we pressed on I continued to take photos and foolishly allowed my camera to get wet.


Though I rather like the effect on some of these shots


(especially this one) it temporarily damaged my camera and caused me auto-focusing problems in the days to come.


My guide-book had mentioned this ‘white cairn’ and told us to head for it from the valley below.  Easily said, easily written.  It was a pity that it was invisible in this snow-storm until we almost tripped over it.


By 12.30, we were nearing Richmond and as once again I was in no great rush,


I bid Pat farewell, watched him speed away and, knowing how to enjoy myself, crawled under a yew tree to eat a tuna sandwich and pork pie lunch.


With a pleasingly full stomach, the climb through Whitecliffe Wood was beautifully silent with Pat’s footprints quickly rubbed out by fresh snowfall.


As I emerged from the trees I realised that, far too soon, I was almost at my day’s end.


There in the distance sat Richmond.  It was still only 1.30 as I entered the town and found a pub with an open fire (always a prerequisite) and settled down to thaw out and doze awhile, before heading to my B&B.


I was staying at Eliza House and Liz, the owner, made me warmly welcome.  Later that evening, scrubbed, powdered and dressed in my specially packed evening wear, I met Pat and Sue at the ‘Black Lion’ for a venison casserole and a few pints of Black Sheep.  We weren’t particularly looking forward to the next day: Day 9.  It was the longest stage (23 miles) across the reputedly dreary Vale of Mowbray.  There would be miles and miles of tarmac bashing, across a flat and uninspiring landscape.

Bet you can’t wait to read all about it, huh?  I know I can’t.



2 thoughts on “Coast to Coast: Day 8 – Reeth to Richmond

  1. Why, Janet – you’re a proper walker – leading climbs and everything! How grown up is that? I find leading myself enough of a challenge and were I to drink whisky whilst on a walk I’d never make it outside the pub. Dave


  2. That’s a lot of washing -and a lot of breakfast! I am currently a big sheep fan having just discovered wool bedding – duvet and mattress topper. Perfect for partners who don’t share the same nighttime heat requirements! I adore venison stew, the best I ever had was in Scotland after a day trying to learn how to lead a climb without killing anybody, though it was accomanied by whisky rather than the admittedly very fine beer you imbibed.


Any thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s