UK COAST TO COAST ADVENTURE JOURNAL | Day 10

If this is the first of my UK Coast to Coast Adventure Journal posts you are reading, please do consider going back to the beginning for the full story.

This section of the coast to coast hike is one that Wainwright refers to as the “tepid agricultural tract” of the route. It’s the flat bit of land that sits between the Yorkshire Dales and the North York Moors National Parks.

Because it’s a pretty perfectly flat section made up of a combination of road walking and crop fields, a lot of people who hike the UK coast to coast, choose to do the 23-ish miles from Richmond to Ingleby Cross in one day. It’s the longest section in the Trailblazer guidebook, but as it’s more-or-less on one contour, it’s doable.

Several Short Days

We didn’t fancy that. Or rather, we felt it would have been too big of an ask. Instead of tackling it all in one go, we chose to deviate from the guidebook to give our legs a break. We’d already done an extra three miles past Richmond to Colburn on Monday (read about day nine), and would then have our following two overnights in Oaktree Hill followed by Osmotherley.

This gave us a 13-ish mile day on Monday, a 13-ish mile day on Tuesday (day nine), and a 10-ish mile day on Wednesday (day 10) – three doable day hikes with time for long lunches and some rest and recovery. Our three short days in a row would be followed by three bigger and tougher days to finish, so it seemed like a very sensible plan.

Admittedly, we had hoped to have the night of day 10 in Danby Wiske, but as with Keld earlier in our hike, the whole village seemed to have already closed up for the season. It was probably the rudest response of our planning experience, too, something like “you’re too late, everything is closed by then”. Eh?! Made me laugh.

UK COAST TO COAST HIKE ADVENTURE JOURNAL

Day 10 | Tuesday 19 October | Colburn to Oaktree Hill

Anyone else find they sleep really well in a tent when it’s raining outside? There is just something I find so stress-free about being wrapped all warm and cosy in my puffy cocoon while the rain falls on the tent. Assuming I’ve emptied my bladder before I settle down to sleep, that is.

It helps that I completely trust my Vango Banshee – no sign or risk of any dampness inside, for which I will always be grateful. And the fact I have a synthetic sleeping bag means I am not as affected by general dampness as I might be if I used down-filled products.

While falling asleep to rain is nice, waking up to it is less so… It rained quite heavily overnight, and was still a bit damp in the morning. But with just 13 miles or so of very easy terrain to walk on day 10, we planned a bit of a later start, giving us time to hang around while the weather sorted itself out. It was all a bit stop-start, a series of heavy showers rather than relentless pouring rain. But still, a bit of a miserable start to the day.

Delaying the Inevitable

We did eventually get ourselves packed away, making use of the porch at the front of the Hildyard Arms’ little Shepherd’s Hut to get our things inside our duffel bags without them getting wet. While my tent kept me dry overnight, there is no keeping it dry when you have to roll it up and pack it away wet.

I was pleased I’d had the foresight to pack one of those heavy-duty bin liners for just this eventuality, I could at least be confident everything else in my bag would stay dry.

We made yet another tea as the rain picked up speed again, hanging around in the pub garden for a little longer. The chap who’d pitched up under the gazebo, which I’d thought was rude the previous night but now realise it was just proper forward thinking, left while we were further delaying our start.

He returned to the pub 20 minutes later and called a taxi to take him to Richmond (he was hiking from east to west), where he could wait out the weather in comfort. I didn’t blame him one bit.

First Six Miles

Giving in to the inevitable, we donned all our waterproofs, including putting the covers on our packs, and got on our way. It might have been wet, but it could definitely have been worse, and once we were going it wasn’t too disheartening.

As there were no advertised places to stop along the route, Wainwright keeping things nice and rural to get across this section in as much of a straight line as possible, we did a bit of adjusting. Before we left Colburn, Jenni had found a café a bit off our route that would provide a suitable lunchtime stop. It would be just shy of halfway, about six miles or so from where we left that morning.

To get there we had a quite pleasant walk along farmland adjacent to the River Swale, before it was time to cross the A1(M). The mile-long diversion that has been in place for walkers here for several years due to roadworks on this major trunk road was now gone, and we could use the underpass just after Thornbury Farm to get underneath the road.

As we found back on day six when we walked over the M6, crossing the A1 felt like a milestone. A big deal in my mind, marking the completion of (an uneven) two thirds of our coast to coast hike.

Once on the other side of the motorway, we walked across the edge of Catterick Racecourse, past some sculptures, and through Scornton Nature Reserve. It really was a pleasant morning hike, yes it was flat, but it wasn’t lacking in interest as we thought it might.

Hiding from the Rain – Again

We deviated from the official coast to coast route just after the nature reserve, picking up Back Lane, a tiny access road past old gravel pits. It meant we loosely followed the River Swale for a bit longer than Wainwright would have done, running parallel to his route just half a mile south west. Instead of walking through the village Bolton-on-Swale, we walked along the banks of Bolton-on-Swale lake and nature reserve, past Ellerton Park (a caravan park), and to Ellerton-on-Swale.

The café Jenni had found us was a ginormous brand-new building which looked rather impressive, although it also looked very closed. We’d checked online so we knew it should be open, but there’s always a tinge of doubt. Thankfully, Ellerton Lakeside Café was indeed open, and I ordered a baked potato with cheese and beans, and lots of tea.

It was quiet, just us and one other couple in the time we were there, and it wasn’t particularly warm, but it was a dry place to rest for a while. We sat for over an hour enjoying the WiFi and protection from the rain falling outside as our coats dripped water all over the floor – apologies to those who had to mop up after us!

Horse Encounter

It had stopped raining by the time we left in the early afternoon, and we had just 7.5 miles to go to our campsite for the evening. No problem. We picked up the coast to coast route the guidebook described just after Ellerton Cross, and found ourselves on the very long but quiet road walk to Streetlam.

Apparently, this is the longest road walk on the entire trail; over four miles of country lane (would have been 3.5 if we’d kept to the official route). It was pretty, but I think we both agreed with Wainwright about it being a little monotonous, and were very glad when we reached Streetlam.

After a short top on a bench for sweets (it had got to that stage in the day), we had a rather close encounter with some horses. I mean in-your-face close, which, for someone who really does struggle with horses, is a little too close for comfort. Okay, a lot too close for comfort!

There were two of them, stood right by the stile into their paddock, which we had to cross to continue on our way. I took a deep breath, asked Jenni to make sure she captured the moment on camera (you know, proof), and got on with the task in hand. I stepped on the stile and they came in even closer – their faces in my face. Clearly, I survived, I’m writing this over a year later – but my heart was leaping all over the place. Honestly, what’s wrong with me?!

White Fallow Deer

After our 3.5 miles of road walking, we were back walking through farmland, which I’ll be honest was not really any more fun. I mean, it was beautiful, a decent countryside walk, but the hight of interest was things like walking under electricity pylons, spotting a treehouse, and sitting on a bench to eat fizzy sweets in Danby Wiske village centre.

Once we’d crossed the East Coast Main Line, where we waved at a fast train making its way south, we deviated from the official route once again to make our way to our overnight stop at Oaktree Hill. Lovesome Hill Farm wasn’t much off the route, but it was easier and safer for us to use the public footpaths across the farm rather than head to the main road and have to walk up it.

On our way through the final field of the afternoon, we spotted a herd of white fallow deer. That’s right – white deer. Jenni spotted them first, at the other end of the field, gathered by some trees. We thought they might be horses, but once again Jenni’s binoculars came in handy, and we could see them properly.

I’ve certainly never seen a white deer before. It turns out they aren’t uncommon; white is a recognised colour variety of this species, which is seen all over the UK. They are much rarer than the other three colours (common, menil and black), but are just really noticeable when they are around because they stand out prominently in our usually dark green countryside.

Later that evening the farmer told us they’d escaped (again) from someone’s deer park close by and keep eating their crops – he made a call which I certainly hope was to the owner to come and fetch them!

Lovesome Hill Farm

Lovesome Hill Farm (the website wasn’t working at the time of publication, sorry), offer bunkhouse accommodation and camping, the latter of which is basically in their front garden – a beautiful and slightly formal rose garden between the road and the farmhouse. On arrival we were offered access to the bunk barn for the kitchen and shower facilities, and to keep out of the rain, if we gave our host a little extra on top of our £10 camping fee for the heating, which was on a metre fed using old £1 coins.

When we’d booked our stay, we had thought that a (paid-for) home cooked dinner would be an option, but very sadly for us our host wasn’t cooking for guests that night. We could have called a taxi to get into Northallerton, or ordered an Indian takeaway which delivered to the farm, but as with the previous night, once we were set up, we just wanted to stay put.

I nearly said we “made do” with the provisions we’d brought with us, but in all honesty, it was absolutely no problem, that’s what we’d been carrying them for. Well, we’d clearly have enjoyed a home cooked farmhouse meal even more, but we had Firepot meals, various sweet snacks, and our host had provided actual real milk for hot drinks. Sorted.  

Even though it was warm and dry in the bunk barn common room, and we had electricity available to charge phones and other things, I barely made it to 9pm. I retried to my tent very ready for a good sleep, still wondering why I was so exhausted (it was over a month until I’d get my anaemia diagnosis), but liking the fact that I had the time to spend hours (and hours) sleeping.

Reflections on Coast to Coast Day 10

Wainwright was right. This bit of the coast to coast route really does feel like a join-the-dots section. Not unpleasant, not boring, but a little, er, plain. Just a few days before we were hiking high in the Lake District and then across the rugged Yorkshire Dales, so the flat lands here did have a lot to live up to.

The rain didn’t help. We didn’t get soaked through to our pants or anything, but even showers can stop you from making the most of the scenery. Thankfully, by the afternoon, and after a relaxing stop at a very nice café, we had a clear dry spell until the evening after we’d set up camp. We certainly went to bed grateful that our rainiest day of the our coast to coast hike was an easy and flat 13 miles with lots of road walking – which, when you consider the terrain we had been walking the previous week, was a massive result.

On Short Days

In hindsight, we could have done the 23 miles from Richmond to Ingleby Cross in one day. There was no need to mess around with the section between the Yorkshire Dales and the North York Moors and split it up into more manageable chunks. Yes, it would have been a long and hard day, taking all the light we had available in mid-October, but it would have turned two of the flat and field-filled days into one. It would certainly have been within our fitness and capabilities, even with what I know now about my chemical imbalances.

If you are reading these posts to help plan your coast to coast hike, and are thinking about whether you can do that 23 mile day, I say go for it. I don’t regret our choice terribly or anything like that, I was definitely on the side of feeling a few short days would do us good, and they did. But you live and learn. I underestimated our ability to knock out the miles, and our desire to. And given that we had pre-booked our baggage transfer, we were wedded to our planned route.

A Pretty Day Out

By the time we finished the day we could see the Cleveland Hills in the distance, and knew we’d be right on top of them by the end of the following day. We had a long and restful evening in the bunk barn common room at the farm we camped at, and even if we were a little bit disappointed with our rehydrated dinner, it had been a good day.

And it didn’t lack interest entirely. I mean, just in the last few miles I came face to face with horses and we saw white fallow deer. Add to that the country lanes and little villages, and it was a very pretty in the countryside. Just maybe not quite as nice as other days had been.