Blakey Ridge to Grosmont (Part 1)

Today begins the last two days of our journey, each a 15-mile day push- more than we’ve tackled thus far. After a good 18 hours sleep, Tom’s tum was feeling much better. Sunshine, 40 degrees and brisk wind greeted our 9am start from the Lion Inn. The beginning was a long arcing road along the sweeping moors. Desolate and beautiful. We stayed on either a paved or dirt road for miles. I felt great today- like I could go 20 miles or more- who knows why except that the path was a long gradual downhill, which helped, of course. We wound our way finally off the moors and into the outskirts of sheep pastures, buildings and equipment, making our way into a small village of Glaisdale, with stone homes with terra cotta Spanish roofs. Seeing these from a distance in the sun tucked into bright green grass folds as we viewed them from high up on the moors, it could have been mistaken for Italy or southern France. At Glaisdale, we still had 5 more miles to go- always our joke on the trail when we started feeling pooped out- but this was true- Grosmont, our destination was still ahead. We enjoyed a variety of moments today including a visit from a few very strange white fluffy chickens, a glimpse into more lamb “kindergarten”- our name for when the little ones leave their mama’s sides and go frolicking in the field in a big pack. Tom and I were ready to throw down our packs and poles and go join them, it looked so fun! We also came across an old toll house for the dirt road we traveled that still had the prices written on the side of it for horse and cart, horse, motorcycle, motorcycle with side car, and raven a hearse. Knickknacks in the windows indicated that the building had long since been transformed into an actual house that was well lived in. Later, large patches of dark yellow flowering Gorse, the wicked step-sister of Scotch Broom due to its thorny, spiky branches, enveloped us in a lovely almost tropical floral aroma. Our young friend Rachel from Liverpool loved them and said they smelled like coconut. Our friend Ellia from Australia said she hated it and it smelled like dog piss. Tom and I were captivated by it and I was hoping maybe I could find some Gorse-scented lotion somewhere to take home to remind me of the Coast to Coast. Somehow I have the feeling that such a quest would be like going to the Pike Place Market and asking the lavender soap vendors if they have anything that smells like Scotch Broom. (To be continued…)