Coast to Coast: Keld to Reeth, 11 miles, Wednesday 16th June

You’ll be vey happy to know that Spike’s constitution is very much improved today, following his disagreement with Sunday night’s beef burger which caused him to abandon the walking for a couple of days. Amanda has also sorted out her various blisters and is mobile once more.

So the five of us set off together again after breakfast (full English of course), on day nine of our epic stroll across England, in beautiful sunshine.

We had a decision to make this morning. To take the high road or the low road? The high road takes you across the top of the moors and passes through the abandoned remains of the 19th century lead mining industry. The low route follows the river Swale and passes through lots of pretty meadows.

The fabulous weather made the decision for us, and we opted for the high route. We left Keld village behind and soon started climbing up narrow rocky paths and crossing formidable gorges.

At the top we encountered Striding Man once more, having a spot of lunch with his long suffering wife. Soon we reached the top of the moor, where industrial remains were scattered everywhere. The whole place had been devastated by the lead mining industry over two hundred years ago. I can’t say it was particularly beautiful, but if you had an interest in industrial architecture, or big pre-Victorian Boy’s Toys, then it was fascinating.

It’s worth noting that shortly before reaching Old Gang Smelt Mill, one of the bigger ruins, we achieved our ONE HUNDREDTH MILE ON FOOT!! Quite an occasion, apart from the fact that we missed it, and couldn’t be bothered to walk back and commemorate the event.

The other, slightly less memorable event, was Spike and I trying to find latitude 00:00:00 and longitude 00:00:00, which was not far off the track we were taking down towards Reeth. After climbing over a dry stone wall and passing through a couple of sheep folds, we finally located that very point, using my GPS. Then we took a photo of the GPS. How pointless was that?

 

 

 

Finally we reached Reeth, a small but perfectly formed picture postcard Dales village on the banks of the river Swale. We’re staying at the Black Bull Hotel, which judging by the angle of its doors, ceilings and most of all, its staircases, must be about five hundred years old. It was like trying to negotiate one of those fairground Fun House staircases, not particularly amusing when you are lugging up heavy bags to your room, which is always on the top floor, it seems.

But first things first, and a pint of Deuchars IPA (my favourite beer) was called for, before strolling around the village to check out the other shops and pubs.

I can report that my whole gang of characters is staying in Reeth tonight, despite my earlier assumption that we’d never see our fellow Coasters again. Striding Man is here, reunited with his family again (I assume they took the low route this morning), and Emma says she saw Captain Beaky and his wife on the village green. But most surprising of all was the re-appearance of Yanks #1 and #2 in the bar of the Black Bull. They must have somehow seen through my earlier ruse to re-direct them back to St Bees. They asked Spike what the “ale” meant in “beef and ale pie”, and being nice Spike, he told them the truth. Probably it was for the best that they hadn’t asked me.

Dinner was Ok, but quite frankly I’m beginning to get more than a little tired of the endless round of standard pub fare. There’s only so much Cumberland Sausage and Mash, Lasagne (lamb or veg), Fish and Chips, Steal & Ale Pie or Lamp Chops that I can take. So tomorrow, when we reach Richmond, it’ll be the best British food of all – curry, washed down with a few pints of Kingfisher, my favourite lager!

Blister count: Lia 1, Chris 1, Amada 1 HUGE one but getting better

(No longer) consecutive Full English Breakfasts: 9 out of a possible 10

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