Day 3 Carlton Bank to Hutton Wood

A peaceful night, once the noisy honking geese had quietened down. Awake just before 5am. An interesting dawn chorus, with exotic sounding birds and also a cuckoo. Heating the porridge for breakfast is definitely the way to go, so much more heartening. Followed by a cup of tea. Being close to civilisation meant I could easily refill my water bottle last night.

Somehow it doesn’t feel quite so cold this morning, and my pack doesn’t feel quite so heavy. Perhaps I am getting used to this. Certainly you do get accustomed to carrying a load, but hadn’t expected this quite so quickly

It’s a hazier day, looking down on the plain. The industrial towns of Middlesbrough and Teesmouth are almost hidden

There is an impressive throne like seat at the top of the climb up Kirby Bank, and a polite plea from the Holiday Fellowship:

Friend, when you stray, or sit and take your ease

On moor, or fell, or under spreading trees,

Pray, leave no traces of your wayside meal,

No paper bag, no scattered orange peel, 

Nor daily journal littered on the grass:

Others may view these with distaste and pass.

Let no one say, and say it to your shame, 

That all was beauty here until you came.

I feel moved to pick and take away up a bottle cage dropped by a passing cyclist. Not only have I made no trace of my passing, I have left things better than I found them

More ancient barrows

More hail, but only showers

But I can see more ominous looking weather heading my way. At first this is hail, but it turns to rain with hail.

I shelter under a tree and change into wet weather gear, overtrousers, hat, and rucksack cover

The mist descends as I climb, I’m soon enveloped in cloud. I now have hail with snow. The good news is that there’s very little wind

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. They say that British weather can give you four seasons in one day. Not today, where it is forever winter

I reach the Rosedale railway. Thus has strong associations for me. First as a child, I’m guessing around 10, when I joined my Dad and some of his works colleagues in doing the Lyke Wake Walk. 40 miles, starting near Osmotherley, taking in Roseberry Topping and ending at Ravenscar. I made it as far as this railway, when in the middle of the night my mum arrived with a pre-arranged hot meal. Thar was the end of my walk, being taken back to Middlesbrough. I couldn’t move my legs the next day. The second occasion was while doing the coast to coast walk. We had a rare bit of rain on this stretch, and mist. Philippa needed the loo, but had yet to master the skill of weeing outdoors. She crouched under a green umbrella, refusing to move. For ages. Just leave me, she said.....

But only a short section today, before heading northwards

Suddenly the cloud starts to lift, I see sunshine in the distance. Things are picking up

The dandelions agree and open up. Bees are foraging....maybe a two season day

I arrive at the tiny village of Kildale. There’s not much here, the station has seen better times

But the tiny church is worth a visit

There’s a book showing the making of the stained glass window. Very interesting

Through beech woodland to Cooks Memorial, celebrating his bringing of Christianity to the savages of the Pacific. Oh dear

Roseberry Topping, a constant feature in the landscape for the past two days now looks very close. It’s yet another descent, a climb, down again, more climbing....I think today has been the toughest on the route so far

From the top I get a great view of where I’ve been for the last two days

and look! The sea, which is going to be my companion for the rest of the walk

I now need to find somewhere sheltered from the strong north wind in which to pitch my tent. The landscape to the right is very open. To the left is pine forest, but furrowed where the trees have been planted and with many old stumps

I find a lovely sheltered spot in a deep ravine by a small stream and put up my tent. Let’s get a photo.....where’s my phone?

Big panic! I scour the camp site, moving the tent to look underneath and undertaking a methodical search of the surrounding ground. Nothing

I retrace my steps to where I can last remember using it. But it’s off the path in a random bit of woodland that I was prospecting for a campsite. I get to the right sort of location, and miracles of miracles there it is, lying on the ground

So this is where I am now

Tonight’s meal was a rehydrated orzo bolognese. Much better than the curry

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