Breakfast is a bit later at the Charles Bathurst Inn but it’s still cool when we leave despite the sunshine. We head off immediately down a footpath to a bridge across a stream. We could see the hillside on the other side from our room last night and it looked impossibly steep. We start off on a tarmacked road which soon becomes a grassy path. It’s quite a pull but there is some relief from four kestrels above us. One is completely still in the sky against the wind. It’s wings look translucent in the sunlight. This appears to be some kind of lesson, as another kestrel is attempting to mimic it with some success but occasional tumblings on the air currents.
We pass through a cleft and take a gate onto the moorland. There is a sign telling us to keep to the path as there are concealed mineshafts on the moor. This would be fine if there was a path but, through a combination of heather growth, heather burning, bogginess and lack of use, the path has completely disappeared. We strike out across the heather heading in the right direction and disturbing the grouse, a curlew and a lapwing. It transpires that the mineshafts mostly have earth built up around them, so we wend our way through safely. Soon we reach a track and the way becomes much easier. The views have been incredible and there is a stark beauty about the landscape, especially as we are sharing hundreds of acres of moorland with just the wildlife.
We descend to a well-kept but remote farm with some over friendly dogs and some very handsome rare breed cows, cross a stream then it’s up another steep slope. As Rich points out, these hills consist of steep sides and flat, expansive, featureless tops.
At first, the route is again metalled but we soon strike off over the heather near the summit. There are plenty of grouse again and a red kite glides above us. The heather here is very dense and, if we didn’t have thighs of steel before, we certainly do now!
As we leave the heather, Rich points out shake holes in the ground where the limestone has been dissolved away. Like the mineshafts, they are easy to spot in good weather. This would not be a route to attempt in mist. The descent then consists of large zigzags, initially to avoid a cliff, but later to skirt round a dry stone wall boundary. We stop for lunch but not for long as the wind is chilly when the sun goes in.
We next cross a stile into a plantation. A placard declares that this was an EU venture, and it must have fallen into disuse a while ago as the stile is rotting away. The path itself has completely decayed. We find ourselves yomping through head-high bracken, fording hidden streams and generally going by OS Maps only. As Richard says ‘Just because there’s a right of way doesn’t mean there’s a path’. We finally scale a dry stone wall (landing unceremoniously on my backside in the bracken in my case) and enter a field.
We go up and follow an unclassified road for a bit, meeting a farmer on a quad bike racing after some coaches that have upset his cattle, and then it’s back onto a footpath. This leads down to a highish bridge over the river Greta. On first glance, the bridge looks quite impressive but, close to, it is starting to rot and growing its own stinging nettles. We cross a bit gingerly, just in case. Then it’s up the other side and back to a road for a while. We’re certainly crossing the grain of the land today.
We decide to take another footpath which peters out at a farm. Fortunately, the rather weather-beaten farmer is there and is quite sheepish when we ask him about the route. We find a way, however, and take a road up to the A66. Our original plan had been to stay in Bowes and thus use the underpass to traverse the A66. Unfortunately, we could only find accommodation in Barnard Castle, so we have to cross the dual carriageway, which we approach with some trepidation but manage without difficulty.
A footpath is signed on this side of the road, so we foolishly take that. Needless to say, our footpath travails continue. We reach a stile over a fence on the far side of the field but it is in pieces. Rich lifts his long legs over but I have to reconstruct the stile before I can do the same. Like most of the others today, this path disappears and we are soon beating our way through the undergrowth, oddly accompanied by the calls of an oystercatcher above us.
The path goes into some woodland with wild raspberries but also with bramble overgrowth. We cross a substantial bridge across a stream and reach the road into Barnard Castle. There are further footpath options but we decide against them apart from a splendid iron footbridge across the Tees. Finally, we arrive in the Market Place where we have rented an apartment for the night.
Today has been a roller coaster day. We have had views across to Scotland, Middlesbrough, Cross Fell, the North York moors and even the Yorkshire wolds. We have also left Yorkshire behind and are now in County Durham, having walked across three of the four largest English counties. Most importantly, we have walked over 300 miles. What’s a few poor footpaths compared with that.
Total distance so far: 314 miles
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