Day 8 - 15th August 2006
Reeth to Catterick Bridge (15
miles)
End of Day 8: August 15,
4pm, in the garden of St Giles Farm, Catterick Bridge.
Knock, knock, knock. As the proprietor of Cambridge House, our B&B
in Reeth, yesterday, approached the front door, you could feel the
temperature drop. Nothing to do with the weather. We’d made the
mistake of turning up at 2pm, a full hour before she normally
expects her guests to arrive. Fair enough, I suppose. I brazened it
out, though and we were in. I guess it didn’t help us turning up at
the same moment as her annual fire safety inspection was about to be
undertaken. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come in to the public
areas.” No chance, we kept our heads down.
Despite us breaking the rules before we’d even entered, we were
given a nice room. But the thing I really liked about this place was
the large, communal breakfast table around which all guests sat;
plenty of chat in the morning.
Reeth is a bit of a special place for us. We had our wedding
reception here at the Burgoyne Hotel – 2nd September 1989. It was a
bit Fawlty Towers as it turned out (listening to the husband and
wife team shouting at each other in the kitchen is something that
will stay with us and the other guests). But it’s come on a bit now,
I hear. Reeth is obviously somewhere we go back often. Which is why
today was a revelation to me; on paths that I’d never before been
and on a route through to Richmond that was new to me. Mostly very
straightforward, but none the worse for that. Into Richmond before
1pm, lunch and a final push on to St Giles Farm before 3pm.
It’s clear that North Yorkshire County Council has been putting up
new C2C waymarkers throughout the route from Richmond; good job; it
would not be the easiest route sub-stage to wayfind without
them.
To use GPS (Global Positioning System) or not to use GPS? That is
the question. You’ll know that a GPS gizmo will tell you exactly
where you are and can guide you through a route if you insert
waypoints for your walk. In theory you can’t go wrong. They are
widely used now by walkers. Ruth and the boys bought me a GPS for my
birthday; it’ll come in useful I’m sure but for the moment it
remains unopened in my bag. This walk is without the aid of a GPS.
Today we came to a point where we were unsure of which path to take.
Down trundles a fellow walker behind us, waving his GPS. Now,
everyone we meet on this walk is given a name; this guy was quickly
christened Well Meaning Git. He explained in some detail the
workings of a GPS and declared: “It’s a no-brainer…the correct route
is straight over that way.” I wasn’t so sure. “I tell you what, you
go your way I’ll go mine,” he smirked. Off we went in different
directions. In a few moments he was behind us. Apparently a GPS also
alerts the user when, foolishly, he decides to take the wrong route.
William’s snigger was audible; I kept my thoughts to, myself… “Back
of the net” was one… “One nil” was another… “Fifteen love”… and oh
yes… “A no-brainer.”
I’ve been sharing thoughts on some of the fellow walkers that we
encounter. I don’t think I’ve mentioned the two Australians; husband
and wife, well into their sixties (at least I hope they are or
they’ve had a hard life on the sheep station). They are doing the
walk to a relaxed three-week timetable and are an inspiration.
However, that doesn’t take them out of the firing line here. There
is a bit of the Les Pattersons about them; we call them Kim and Jim
(for all I know, that may very well be their names). He often wears
a shell suit with the trousers pulled a full four inches above his
belly button and over his ample tummy. You feel he knows the price
of scrap iron (do you want that in Sterling or Aussie dollars?). She
wears her tubby granny’s hand-me-downs and probably spends her
evenings on this trip darning his socks and underwear. This walk
probably seemed a good idea when looking through the brochures in
the hot tub in the Melbourne suburbs. Jim and Kim, I’m afraid, are
like the Wombles, always getting lost: “Took another wrong path
today… don’t know how we did it.” (Well, I do Jim, maybe we could
have a shandy and I could give you a few hypotheses to mull over.)
I’ve met others who’ve made the mistake of slowing down when they
come across Kim and Jim; immediately the maps go away and they are
with you for the day. I like the story of one group they’d latched
onto; this group stopped for lunch, Kim and Jim having put the maps
away some time ago didn’t have a 4xing clue where they were now. Kim
and Jim went round the corner and hid (badly) until this group
started off again. Kim and Jim, we salute you.
We also have Moses and his followers out here. Moses is from Kent;
If he thinks he’s found the Promised Land there he badly needs a
GPS. Moses can be seen marching at a rapid pace, map in hand, with
his wife directly behind him and his eight-year-old child breaking
into a run behind her. I kid you not. The pace is relentless. I’ve
been trying to slip his daughter Esther’s direct dial number at
Childline but, to be fair, she seems to be enjoying it. I think she
would scream and scream and scream if she wasn’t.
Long mileage day tomorrow. Over to Osmotherly and the foot of the
North York Moors; straightforward terrain, though.
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