Looking back at the C2C - 10 years on

Well that was all 10 years ago. It's interesting to see the huge number of on-line accounts that have sprung up since, this really is a walk, an adventure that seems to resonate with people. At the time the C2C seemed to be described as a moderate walk, yet has since seemed to be viewed as more of a tough and exacting trek. Perhaps it's the fashion. Make no mistake, it is a tough walk, you will ache and bits will hurt that have never hurt before. The trick is simply not minding this.

It's funny how the bad bits fade or disappear from memory. I had assumed we'd seen just a day of rain Looking at my photos and brief notes reminded me that this wasn't the case and most days had been something of everything yet strong winds, the walker's real tormentor, were mercifully brief and every day was walkable.

We were quite fit before the start, Pete was a runner and I had trained for a Three Peaks Challenge attempt that we'd completed the weekend before the C2C but I did tire towards the end.

I'll definately have to do it again some time, there's more to see, although it looks as if I'll be doing it on my own as, to date (Aug 2010), I've yet to find a willing companion. Not that I'll be lonely, it's the people you meet who stand out in the mind just as much, if not more, than the scenery.

Coast to Coast Pt.13 29/9/2000

Glaisdale to Robin Hoods Bay, 22 miles.

The final day seemed something of an anticlimax. The route and scenery didn't match the grandeur of previous days, perhaps I was missing home. Jane had been good enough to let me run off for 2 weeks, leaving her with a young daughter. I sent Beth a postcard every day and she'd been charting our route.

There was some more rain at times but after what seemed like a bit of a trudge, we dropped down through the caravan site (where it seemed embarrassingly easy to get lost) and saw the sea.



Robin Hoods Bay, quaint and gently peeling soon beckoned and Andy caught us up as we reached the end. I should think there's hardly a day in the year now when a C2C walker doesn't descend down through the town to the sea.



A swift pint outside the Famous Bay Hotel at the end and a good sit down to soak up the satisfaction of completing the trail. Some day-trippers began questioning us on where we'd come from and I found myself feeling smug seeing their admiration at what we'd achieved.

Coast to Coast Pt.12 28/9/2000

Clay Bank Top to Glaisdale, 14 miles.

Gerry set us straight re-joining the trail the next morning using the path that climbed up to the ridge from the house. It was cold and misty, indeed visibility was down to 20ft and would remain so all morning. We were following the railway track which was just as well as we'd be groping in the dark (or the mist) until we reached The Lion Inn. The walking was fast and not unpleasant but we had to use our imagination for the views. We'd left the others having breakfast and wouldn't see the Aussie couple again but we bumped into Andy regularly all the way to the end.



After a cuppa and sandwich in the Lion, we moved on, the sun came out and we followed the trail easily enough along the ridge heading for Glaisdale. Andy caught us up but was walking so fast that we let him speed onwards.

We descended down to Glaisdale but found that our resting halt for the night, Hollins Farm, was a mile or so back along the main road (westwards) so, quite tierd by now, we walked back. We were greeted by the farmer who was doing some work at the gate. Now let me just say that I love the people from the North East and have many friends there to this day but I couldn't understand a word the farmer said such was his accent. We hoped our replies were appropriate and were greeted by his kindly wife who we could understand.



We were picked up by a car from a local pub for our evening meal where we chatted to other C2C'ers we hadn't met.

Coast to Coast Pt.11 27/9/2000

Ingleby Cross to Clay Bank Top, 12 miles.

We watched more of the Sydney Olympics over breakfast with Andy and an Australian couple. Their countrymen were winning everything which they modestly alluded to but they were a pleasant couple and fine company.

We got away smartly and enjoyed one of the best walking days of the entire trip. Good weather, fine views and relatively easy walking over the undulating tops of the North York Moors.

We took a wrong turn early on, our first unintended deviation of the entire trip and just where the patch enters Clain Wood, easily corrected though.



We dropped into the Lord Stones cafe but everything seemed very new inside (don't recall tables outside) and our dirty boots didn't seem welcome, we had some lunch there and carried on.

The Wainstones make for a good rest stop, again the views were great, the weather calm if a bit overcast.

We quickly found ourselves at Clay Bank Top and walked along and down to Maltkiln House, our overnight stop. Wendy and Gerry made us very welcome, we were sleeping in the loft area of the lovely house. They told us their son had recently walked the C2C which explained the long strip map - he'd photocopied and stuck 1/25000 maps of the route together into one (long) length which stretched up the stairs and beyond. Seeing the walk like this was quite an eye opener and made us quite proud of ourselves.

We were joined by Andy the Journo and the fine Aussie pair for a great evening meal, swapping stories and sampling the local ales, what better day could you ask for.

Coast to Coast Pt.10 26/9/2000

Richmond to Ingleby Cross, 23 miles.

The last few days had felt pretty much like strolls, short country outings that ended at 2-3pm. We'd missed the wild places. The big hike across The Vale of Mowbray wouldn't be wild but I was looking forward to the challenge of the distance.

We left the unmemorable Buck Inn by 8am to get a good start and some road miles under our belt by lunchtime. It was raining hard.

Raining hard to the extent that we were soon beyond caring about the damp. Water proof coats etc. can only do so much yet by midday there were signs of the clouds clearing. It had stopped by 11.30 as we walked into Danby Wiske, the pub was open and serving teas so we popped inside.

An instant warm welcome from some of the friendliest pub proprietors I think I've ever met followed. We sat and had a sandwich, signed the guest book and got going again.

We'd still not really met any regular C2C'ers heading East. We passed a few heading West, there seemed more of them, but no one it seemed was walking parallel with us. That was to change over the last few days.

We worked our way along the fields and lanes over the early afternoon and made Ingleby Cross by about 4pm. We were staying in the Blue Bell Inn only some 'bolt-on' appartments that were round the side of the building. A little spartan but somewhere to crash out and rest.

In the bar later we met Andy, a journalist, one of the fastest walkers I've ever met. He'd been following us through the day so he said, we were always just ahead in the distancee and he'd had trouble catching up. That was some compliment from a man who, as we were going to see, didn't hang about.

Coast to Coast Pt.9 25/9/2000

Reeth to Richmond, 11 miles

We were staying in a B&B called Hackney House. I remember little about the place except the owners were away and the chap looking after it was re-decorating or something. We felt as if we were getting in the way a little but it was comfortable if unremarkable.

The day brought a short hop across to Richmond, an easy country walk on good paths and which we'd completed by 2pm. We used the time to wander round the town, book train tickets home and check in to our accomodation, the Buck Inn.



I forgot to mention. The day before we'd met a mother and son C2C couple who had started in the middle, had travelled out to the East coast and walked inland, then travelled to the West coast to walk inland again (if memory serves), they were assured of the logic yet try as I might, I really can't remember why they were doing this and have never met or heard of anyone who has done the same.

Coast to Coast Pt.8 24/9/2000

Keld to Reeth, 11 miles.

We woke to mist and rain the next morning (pic shows the bedroom view the evening before). With the weather providing little inclination to go outside, we chatted to our good hosts. Two things stand out in my mind.

They were having a bad spell of rat trouble in the outhouses. Although no longer a working farm, some old buildings still stood and in these the vermin were freely wandering. They opened a door to one and we watched the creatures walking about clearly untroubled by our presence. I've never before or since seen so many of the things.

One of my hobbies is flying R/C model aeroplanes and, incredibly, our host (Who's name I'm ashamed to admit I never recorded) did so too so we spent time chatting in his loft hangar.

Time to leave and sad too as Frith Lodge had really felt like a snug home from home. Mary declined the 4x4 expedition down to the bottom but we fancied another rollercoaster ride - more head banging.

The day was wet and misty. We passed the group from the USA who were walking back to Kirkby Stephen and wondered which route to take ourselves. We were heading for Reeth of course and had three options.

We could ascend into the murk and try and pick our way across the high ground. Alternatively we could take the river path route or simply walk along the road.
Given the horrible conditions we opted for the road. It was a day when walkers get lost in the hills and the river path would be no more enjoyable, I could see no shame in being sensible. We got to Reeth by 2pm via a couple of dry yet expensive tea rooms.

Coast to Coast Pt.7 23/9/2000

Kirkby Stephen to Keld, 12 miles.

The next two days weren't the best of the trip. It's true to say that walking, any walking is a fine activity yet days 7 and 8 were wet and muddy experiences.

I dragged an extremely painful foot out of Kirbky Stephen via a pharmacy and we started on the ascent of Nine Standards, it was painful, windy and a relief to get to the top. The cairns made for good wind shelters as we contemplated the route ahead.

If my memory serves me then we followed the blue route on the OS map but in truth it was just a boggy, peaty expanse - an endurance test in stamina and route finding. We tried as best to follow and find the marker poles while plunging down ravines where all orientation was lost.



Looking back I took this photo of a pretty inocuous landscape, yet a landscape that had been distinctly unpleasant to walk across. In bad weather then it would be wise simply to stick to the motor road and we did seem to find the tarmac sooner than the map anticipated.

Surprisingly, the sun was out now and we walked along the road, for the first time in the day seeing other walkers. Finding the steep turning up Stonesdale Lane we sat down and wondered where our B&B was located.

We were staying at Frith Lodge yet hadn't a clue where it was. Just then a passenger transit van pulled up and the driver asked if we were heading for Frith Lodge. "Hop in".
It turned out that the driver lived and ran the B&B with his wife Mary. Both worked for The Sherpa Van company at the time (don't know if they still do). Mary answered the phones and he transferred baggage and people along the C2C - our bags were in the back of the van.



We turned down a steep drive to a bottom where he got out of the van, we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere and I couldn't see a house although a steep rough track curved up the hillside in front of us. He moved our bags across to a beaten up Nissan 4x4, we got in and proceeded to tear up the track. It hardly seemed passable for a Sherman tank let along a wheeled vehicle. To say the short journey was bumpy is toying dangerously with understatement. We both sat in the back and bounced around like rag dolls, heads hitting the ceiling, limbs flying involuntarily.

Frith Lodge appeared soon and Mary came to greet us. It was very remote. The house actually stood nearer to The Pennine Way than the C2C (although apparently, while close, it's not visible from the trail). Mary told us of walkers in peril who had been rescued from the PW when within a stone's throw of the house.

You know you're in a remote location when not a single light can be seen at night. It was pitch (and I mean pitch) black outside after supper.

Coast to Coast Pt.6 22/9/2000

Shap to Kirkby Stephen, 21 miles.

The proprietor made us laugh the next morning. He walked into the busy breakfast room and announced that he'd be holding free physical training sessions on the front lawn for the walkers. He knew most had a big step yesterday and with 20 miles ahead today, the look on the faces of those who took him seriously was a joy. I just love that sense of humour.



Today was what I've since thought of as the big sky day. Lot's of flat walking and big vistas. Clear, dry and not too windy. Again, it was just us and the landscape.

My foot was starting to hurt. Although, like most walkers I can get the odd few aches and pains, I've been fortunate never to suffer from prolonged leg problems; they've always done what's intended without complaint yet my foot would get worse and require a healthy shots of pain killers for the next two days.



I can't remember much about the day except I'm sure Pete left his hat on a stone when we stopped for coffee at a limestone outcrop. It's always interesting to look back at the kit you were using at the time. That rucksack soldiered on for a few more years and the coat.....well that coat I'm still using. Purchased in Grasmere in 1992 for £80 in a sale (a lot of money then), it's Goretex lined and still going strong while not quite perhaps cutting such a fashionable dash. Not that I care, it still keeps the rain and wind off better than some newer coats I've seen.



We enjoyed fine weather and great views before strolling into Kirkby Stephen at about 3.30pm. We stocked up at the shops before finding the Jolly Farmers, our resting stop.

The guest house was full in part due to a large C2C party from the USA who were staying there for several days while being transported to and from starting points. They were making the opposite traverse and we passed them two days later. We tried to engage some of their number but they seemed to prefer their own company. Our solitary walking friend was still the only walker we'd passed on the trail and he was leaving after that day (he'd only planned to walk half) so we joined him to toast his farewell.

Coast to Coast Pt.5 21/9/2000

Patterdale to Shap, 16 miles.

We stopped by the little shop in Patterdale the next morning before crossing the bridge for the start of the trek up to Boardale Hause, Angle Tarn, Kidsty and beyond, it was very windy.

I think I dislike wind more than rain on the hills. Wind makes the going hard work and a strong wind can be exhausting. The flipside was a crystal clear day, an emerging sun and views as good as you'll get.

The walk up to Kidsty is, in my opinion quite a trudge, rough underfoot and with plenty of ups and downs. From Noran Bank, I'd been tempted just to drop down to Hartsop, walk the easy road up to Hayeswater and then and shoot up to Kidsty without all the ascents and descents. I've never been one to slavishy follow a route but Pete demured so we stuck to the plan.



I had to admit that the views were good in all directions yet, again, we were practically on our own. It was sad to be leaving the Lakes as Kidsty approached.

The day is a long one and the walk along Haweswater Reservoir longer and rougher than one would imagine. Reaching the dam you'd assume that Shap is just around the corner yet it's a few miles beyond and across what for us, were taxing muddy fields.
A fellow C2C'er caught us up, we'd seen him in Borrowdale last, the chap carrying all his kit. We'd bump into him tomorrow too.



We were staying in Fell House. A shop come B&B (it has since changed hands, had a refurb and is now a restaurant and B&B). It was fine with a very cheery welcome and cuppa from the very cheery proprietor and family. Dinner was at the Greyhound pub just down the road.



The pics are typical APS so not the best. I wish I'd carried a 35mm camera now, taken a lot more photos and of people in particular.

Coast to Coast Pt.4 20/9/2000

Grasmere to Patterdale, 8 miles.

Day 4 wasn't nice. Overcast and wet. We headed up by the main road and turned up towards Grisedale Tarn. Taking the higher branch it started to rain while the cold wind was difficult to ignore and colder than you'd expect for September.

With wind whipping across the water and rain lashing down, it wasn't a place to linger. I nearly fell over when Pete decided that Helvellyn should be considered. With Dollywaggon Pike shrounded in mist the big 'un was horribly unattractive but St.Sunday Crag then appeared out of the gloom. Pete was keen but I declined, it didn't seem like an enjoyable day for the tops so we agreed to meet up in Glenridding and Pete headed off up the diagonal path from the tarn.

The rain stopped as I dropped down the long but enjoyable path to the valley floor. In fine weather it's one of my favourite routes and the day was definately improving.

I passed two walkers who were clearly models for an outdoor clothing catalogue. These two were the first people I'd met all day and my awareness at the paucity of walkers was growing. Glenridding was like ghost town but the petrol crisis (remember that?) was now in full swing and cars, let alone walkers were few and far between. It was perfectly possible to stroll down the middle of the main road with little chance that you'd meet any vehicles.

I dropped into a cafe in the village, wrote a postcard and headed off for our B&B, Noran Bank Farm. The working sheep farm is beyond the Youth Hostel on the edge of Patterdale.



Looking back it's true to say that the different types of accomodation and people you meet form the lasting memories of any long walk, aches and pains are quickly forgotten. Noran Bank was memorable. I've since seen that, at the time, it wasn't everyone's cup of tea but it was a genuine Lakeland halt and we liked it a lot. It looks as if it's seen some refurbishment since but in 2000 it hadn't changed in a long time, was run by a friendly old lady and was notably full of stuffed animals. The guest book went back to the mid 1930s.

Dinner involved a trip back to the Patterdale Hotel, the only establishment open. Sharing the bar with (literally) coachloads of pensioners we ate quickly and walked back along the pitch dark, empty road to the farmhouse.

Coast to Coast Pt.3 19/9/2000

Borrowdale to Grasmere, 8 miles.
It's easy to forget how mobile phone coverage has improved in the last 10 years. In 2000 I had my first mobile, not that I used it much. Along the whole crossing I only managed to get a good signal near to the M6 and A1, in Borrowdale you could forget it. The mountain tops were very occasionaly acceptable. I had two phones in fact and was taking part in a mobile banking trial for NatWest. The early Nokia WAP phone could transact business and I managed to pay a bill with it near Calf Crag on this day. The trial was successful but take up was slight so the service was dropped soon after and only to reappear as a smartphone application in 2009.

Many C2C'ers hop across to Patterdale on their third day but we were heading to Grasmere. Years later I met two walkers from the USA who were crossing to Shap from Borrowdale in a single day, two long C2C days in one - that didn't sound like fun.

It was a nice morning and would remain so for the rest of the day. We caught up with the large group from the day before as we wound our way up to Greenup Edge. Pete was ahead of me and caught up with them first but not before a fit member of the party bounded back down the path.

It turned out that one member had left his sunglasses on a rock some distance back and the runner had offered to pop back and get them for him. He ran about 1/4-mile steep down and ran back up, SAS trainees after all perhaps. They were heading for Patterdale so we wouldn't see them again.



The climb up to the edge always seems quite a puff and the transition across to Grasmere is another of the, now notorious areas where it's easy to loose the way. We had clear skies and good views so weren't troubled. I took a shot looking back as we crossed and managed to capture Pete falling over, again.

We walked the Calf Crag ridge but dropped down before Helm Crag. I'd been up there many times before, it looked crowded on top and I hate crowds on the hills.

A female friend walked the C2C in the early 1990s. She's a midwife from Australia, and was accompanied by three other Australian midwives. They became lost in mist on the crossing from Borrowdale over to Grasmere and ended up staying the night on Calf Crag. It's not her happiest fellwalking memory.

Grasmere appeared all too soon and we went to find our B&B, Fairy Glen, we were the only guests.

Coast to Coast Pt.2 18/9/2000

Ennerdale Bridge to Borrowdale, 15.5 miles.

The Hotel dining room was full of walkers the next morning. They were pretty easy to spot in their fleeces and in particular the maps covering the tables, which annoyed the serving staff.

‘Full English sir’
‘Oh, yes please, Full English’ I replied.

I was determined to complete the walk and was reasonably sure I could make the distance but I wasn’t sure I could manage 13 consecutive fry-ups on the trot, still this was the second serving – my plate of fried stuff arrived with a smile and the cheerful proprietor started discussing the weather with us.
Our appearance obviously gave him little cause for encouragement as he informed us that on the whole we should be lucky - a sunny day beckoned but if the weather turned for the worst then we would get wet and probably lost. I let him talk to Pete while I studied my Wainwright guide.

Although Wainwright wrote about crossing from East to West many walkers now start in the West and ‘save the best to last’. In this they mean the Lake District and who can blame them. In his book AW agrees but argues that by walking from East to West the weather should always be behind the walker and goes on to hint at the more subtle pleasures the Moors and Dales can offer the walker.

From the dining room window the day seemed pretty grey and the temptation to stay at Ennerdale bridge, supping beer, staying warm by the fire and swapping walking stories with anyone who would listen was great. But, we had a schedule to keep.
"course, you look pretty fit so you should be alright" the proprietor added. He hadn’t looked at me when he said that.

It seemed hard getting going again after yesterday’s treck and we plodded up the road out of Ennerdale heading for the lake of the same name. Ennerdale is just about the most secluded lake in the district passable by a rough road on one side and by a winding footpath on the other. We hugged the shoreline avoiding the high path by Anglers Crag and scrambling through the rough terrain to get round Robins Hood's Chair.

A large party of serious looking walkers was catching us up, there were ten of them and they confirmed they were C2C’ers. They were aged between 30 and 70. Sadly they seemed to be going at the pace of the youngest who looked like SAS material and the eldest, whilst very fit, gave us a look which said "can’t these young idiots slow down". We smiled at him and watched them disappear quickly into the distance.

"Silly people" said Pete, "why do they have to rush"
He was right, why rush ?

Ennerdale was beautiful that morning, the sun was now high and the mountains were in view. Pillar and the High Stile range were a dramatic back drop to the lake with the forests nestling in between.

We came to the head of the lake and started up the forest road that went up to the head of the valley. Twenty minutes later we startled the serious walkers as we rounded a corner. They were having a coffee break. The young ones jumped up and put on rucksacks at first sight of us, the old guy looked very comfortable lying on the grass with his thermos admiring the view and wasn’t best pleased that his break was being curtailed. We passed them but soon they were overtaking us again, Pete and I exchanged glances. I smiled at the SAS man,

"morning, lovely day for a march"
He was too serious to reply but managed a gritty "aye" and sailed past.

And so the morning progressed as we made our way up the long forest roads of Ennerdale. We would overtake the group, stop for a break and then they would soon overtake us. SAS man always looked pleased to be going past.

It was midday and the valley was very hot. Rounding Pillar mountain seemed to have taken all morning but Great Gable standing tall at the valley head was now drawing close. Finally the trees ran out and we were on open fellside. Tracking above Black Sail Hut we felt our way across to Loft Beck and started the stiff climb up to the top of the Honnister Pass.



A group of path restorers were at work half way up the beck, we exchanged pleasantries but they seemed keen to keep working so we turned and left them to it. They’d probably not get a bit of work done if they allowed themselves to be bothered by walkers every few minutes. A few moments later it started to rain. Blast, up to this point it had been a glorious day. Gloomily we took off our packs and put on waterproofs and, as is so often the case, just as I put my on jacket the rain stopped.

There are two notable sections of the Coast to Coast where it’s positively easy to get lost, areas where even confident walkers, who like to think they’re a bit handy with a map and compass, come unstuck. The area at the top of Loft Beck is one. In clear weather it can be tricky, in mist it's just plain easy to go wrong unless you're confident. The ridge above is criss-crossed by paths, the objective initially uncertain and the walking further than the map or guide books seem to allude to. We had clear weather and I had trudged this way during other fellwalking visits so gradually we felt our way across the top, found the Moses Trod path and started working our way down to Drum House.

The views in retrospect were rather fine, Ennerdale water which we’d passed just after breakfast was glistening in the valley below and beyond that we could just make out the coast line from the day before. The view disappeared as we tracked along. Drum House a former quarry winching to the quarry at the top of the pass and started working our way down to the road. Suddenly we were temporarily back in civilisation, walkers nodding hello, an ice cream van humming, cars shunting. The quarry was closed although it has re-opened since of course. We found the old road and sauntered down to Borrowdale. The views from this little trod were surprisingly good, Great End the northern buttress of the Scaffel range in view. The sun was out, life was good.


We were staying with Mrs Jackson in Stonethwaite (a great B&B I've used many times in the years since) and she welcomed us with surprise. It was 3pm and she hadn't expected us so soon. We blamed SAS man but, in truth, we hadn't hung about.

The Langstrath Inn just a few yards away was still a traditional pub in Sept 2000 and not the rather more exclusive and expensive stop it has since become. We grabbed a corner, had something and chips and chatted to a fellow C2C'er who was carring everything on his back (We were using Sherpa baggage transfer). He teased us that we weren't doing a proper job but we weren't envious.

Coast to Coast Pt.1 17/9/2000

St.Bees to Enerdale Bridge, 14 miles.

In September 2000 I walked (with cousin Peter) the 190 odd miles from St.Bees to Robin Hoods Bay. It's now been 10 years since and in the meantime I've added Hadrians Wall (2004 & 2005) along with many of the Wainwrights (35 to go as at Aug 2010).

My C2C diary was never completed but that's set to change and I'm now determined to complete the text. Photos were taken at the time on an old waterproof APS film camera. You'll forgive my early sense of humour. Part 1&2 were written in 2001 - I was younger then.

St Bees to Ennerdale Bridge

Following Wainwrights famous Coast to Coast route involves a certain amount of masochism. It’s better not to remember that if walked in a direct line the distance would be in the region of 100 miles or so but that the walk itself is some 190 miles in length, perhaps a tad more.



As I climbed up onto the cliff path and out of St Bees on a wet, overcast September morning I was also trying not to think about this and also the fact that although the walk heads from east to west, the first few miles head north east and in the opposite direction from the ultimate finish – Robin Hood Bay, a small village on the N.Yorkshire coast. Trudging through mud and getting wetter by the minute I was actually getting further away from my ultimate objective, I put my head down and plodded on.

St. Bees had looked lovely in the sun, the trim rows of caravans, the green fields between the town and the beach, the little main street with snug shops and houses. The sun had been yesterday though and the temptation to stay in bed (we had stopped in Stonehouse Farm, pictured) had been great especially when I looked out of the window but we had a schedule and would be walking from Coast to coast over the next 13 days come rain or shine.

Pete trudged ahead of me now, forging a pace along the narrow path over the cliffs towards Flewsick Bay. Stopping for a brief rest we looked back down for a last view of St.Bees.



The rain started to fall with some intensity and the path was still heading north. Fleswick bay looked good in the coffee table picture book, a little less so in the pouring rain. We pushed on and rounded St.Bees head, trudged past the lighthouse and eventually joined the lane by a quarry and started heading inland. East at last and already my legs ached.

It was Sunday and very quiet. We walked through Sandwith the first village after St.Bees. Many walkers do the coastal bit on their day of arrival and start from Sandwith the following day, it’s a way of reducing the 14 mile length of the first day’s march or to carry on further into Ennerdale before stopping. We should have done this if we had thought about it a little more but as we headed up the main street the rain stopped so we felt a little happier. Besides 14 miles was a pretty modest distance – we would be tackling 20 and 23 mile stages over the next two weeks.

The sign at the end of the village soon brought us to our senses. Actually it was the back of the village name plate. On it some wag had put the letters – Robin Hoods Bay 185 miles. "Nearly there" said Pete.

We left Sandwith and started forging inland towards Ennerdale Bridge, our destination for the day. The ground was muddy but the going was pretty quick and the sizeable village of Cleator appeared in the distance.

We faniced a nice cup of tea and fancied that Cleator would soon service the desire. In happy expectation of snug cafes we started up the main street. Our smiles disappeared, Cleator resembled something from a Lowry painting. Grey terraces lined the narrow streets and there wasn’t a tearoom in sight, one grocers shop was open but it didn’t do teas. To add to the misery it started to rain again.

Although it was lunch time we weren’t that hungry and our first true ascent beckoned – Dent hill stretching up into the mist before us. I reminded Pete that we could simply take to the road we were approaching and walk straight into Ennerdale Bridge and thus avoid this little wet and misty height but somehow a deviation so soon into the walk seemed like cheating and besides, Wainwright wanted to make men of us. We headed on up.

Hunger hit us just after we crested the top though and we spent a few minutes munching pasties in the gloomy forest on the top. At just over 1100ft Dent is officially a mountain but in the mist and rain this green lump seemed little more than uneccessary leg-work before we arrived at our final destination.



We strolled into Ennerdale Bridge mid-afternoon and checked into our hotel for the night, the appropriately named Ennerdale Bridge Hotel. A cheerful proprietor showed us to our room which looked disconcertingly expensive. Whilst Pete watched the Sydney Olympics on the telly I strolled around the village and took in the sights. A little shop doing a nice line in C2C momentos was proof of the walking trade coming in the opposite direction but it was too early to buy celebratory trinkets.