Day 9 May 21st

I made use of an unexpected bonus this morning, a group of cyclists in the b&b, (Old Brewery guest house) needed early breakfasts as they were being picked up early for some reason or other. The owners opened up for breakfasts around 7:00 AM, I took advantage of this, had breakfast, then I got Liz to drive me the few miles back to Brompton to pick up the trail. This she did, we said goodbye for the day, she went back to have breakfast with Deborah and David, while I set out on 20 odd miles of absolute bloody boredom. Now I knew this was going to be a bit of a dull stretch, linking The Dales with the North York Moors, I didn't realise how bloody tedious it was, fields, roads, farm tracks, more roads, the highest incline was a road bridge going over a railway line, it was making Lincolnshire look like it was a mountain range. At times like these you just have to blank your mind, switch on autopilot and walk, walk, then walk some more. Being on my own like this I tend to break into song occassionally, I particularly like to sing Ewan MacColl's "Manchester Rambler", only I have to change one lyric, Manchester to Derbyshire. I only know the first verse and chorus but I love to hear this, and like I said, I sing it (not too loud, don't want to frighten anybody).
              

I've been over Snowdon, I've slept upon Crowdon
I've camped by the Wainestones as well
I've sunbathed on Kinder, been burned to a cinder
And many more things I can tell
My rucksack has oft been me pillow
The heather has oft been me bed
And sooner than part from the mountains
I think I would rather be dead

Ch: I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from Manchester (Derbyshire) way
I get all me pleasure the hard moorland way
I may be a wageslave on Monday
But I am a free man on Sunday

 I eventually got sight of the North York Moors in front, I was actually looking forward to an incline to get up, but just short of this I passed through Ingleby Cross and Ingleby Arncliffe, and I had another nice warm feeling come to me, similar to the one I mentioned the other day (honesty box).

Passing by this one house I saw this coolbox standing on a low wall, I looked inside, and true to their word inside was about a dozen bottles of water with iceblocks keeping them cool. I don't know if they were put there by the parish council or an individual, just knowing that someone had put them for us, with no payment required, what a wondeful gesture. The water was nice and cold by the way.


 From here on you do have to climb to reach onto the moors, well its actually woodland you make your way up, a pleasure from the earlier flat walking. Once at the top I had to turn south, off route to reach Osmotherley, the nights accommodation being the Golden Lion, good room, good beer, good food.
A few photos showing it wasn't entirely flat, although both at the end of my day.

Hills on the horizon

On the hill tops looking back at flatlands

Although the day was boring a few things along the way made me smile, photos below

Come on, accommodation can't be that difficult to find

One farm owner with a sense of humour

Glad that's not the way to go, straight into an hedge