Coast to Coast
Phil's Comments Day 10
Copyright © Barry Smith 2012. All Rights Reserved.
When I joined Barry and Graham outside the pub at the start of the day, (where else?) the weather was fine and so was
the company. It was obvious that after many days they had established a sort of companionship a bit like an old married
couple, tolerant of each other’s foibles (well mainly Barry’s) and respecting the need for silence. The previous day had
been hard with the long slog from Richmond to Ingleby Cross and there was concern over how the aged bodies would
hold up. On the other hand I had just been brought down in the leather clad armchairs of Jane’s car.
After a fairly steep pull we were soon up on the west-most ridge of the North Yorkshire Moors with superb views over the
plain and back towards the Yorkshire Dales. The walking was easy but with the numerous valleys running down to the
plain there was a lot more up and down than I had expected. Then it started to rain. The “experts” quickly whipped out
their ultra light Gortex over-clothes whilst I manfully struggled into a mid ‘80’s Barbour and a pair of over trousers which
would have served well as sails on an East Indies tea clipper. Graham disparagingly referred to them as my crisp packets;
they were state of the art in their day. Anyway by the time they were hoisted and attached (the elastic had gone in the
waist) Graham was a dot on the horizon and Barry and larger dot almost on the horizon. I ran to catch up. This was a
mistake as the result was a reverse osmosis effect by which more water ended up inside my waterproofs than outside. I
caught them just as the rain stopped and the sun came out. They were sitting insouciantly sucking on their CamelBak
mobile hydration units – this is apparently legal even though Barry’s had a suspicious sheepskin cover and kept making
light bleating noises. Like Alf Tucker I cracked out a bottle of pop and a bag of salt and vinegar. This process was
repeated several times before lunch.
At the last summit before lunch we spotted the sea for the first time. For me, having left Saltburn-by-the-Sea less than
three hours before, this was no great shakes. For the others, who had been walking for over 100 miles it was a very big
deal. There was much excitement, jumping up and down whilst clutching private parts like schoolboys and a rush for
that digi-image moment. A fine example with the sea in the background can be seen at the photographs section in day
10, Carlton Moor. The sea is that mono-pixular line between Graham and Barry
Ahhhh lunch…., we arrived at the café at the top of Carlton bank just as the heaven’s truly opened - just us and 20,000
others in a café with about 8 tables.
After lunch the pattern repeated itself, with two more steep pulls up Drake How and the Wainstones before we dropped
down to the car park at Clay Bank where I rang Jane and the two intrepid explorers rang their landlady who collected
them. Later that evening Jane and I joined them in the pub. They were happy, I was getting stiff, with blisters the size
of the Cheviots. The 1970’s socks might just have to go.
The following day I could barely walk – despite being a reasonably competent fell runner the act of walking took its toll –
maybe it’s a case of my Legolas style not being totally in tune with Gimli and Gloin. It’s either that or the constant up
and down wearing kit that Hannibal would have rejected as old fashioned that finally did for me.
Duly inspired I decided to do the C2C cycle ride a few weeks later wearing all new lycra kit. The biking was hard but the
feel of that lycra……
Anyway, what’s next?
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