Part I of this series covered the western segment of the walk, through the rugged and vista-laden Lake District. Part II covered the central portion of the route, through the pastoral Yorkshire Dales. Part III takes us to our final destination, the North Sea, via the varied landscapes of the North York Moors National Park. The last couple of days in the Dales were a bit too civilized, with lots of road walking, and so we set out on this last leg of our journey with no expectations other than the hope that we would return to more tranquil surroundings. It turned out to be much moor.

The North York Moors National Park is more than just soggy, stark terrain, although there is certainly some of that. There are woods, villages and a host of archaeological knick-knacks, including burial mounds and ancient crosses. The crosses are of particular interest, not only for their historical significance (they were constructed during the growth of Christianity in the 7^th Century), but also for their curious appellations. I’m talking mainly about Old Ralph, Young Ralph and Fat Betty (see photo below), three of the better known crosses along the route. Old Ralph and Young Ralph, whose age differential is not immediately apparent, are tall and slender and generally worthless if you are hoping for pit-stop privacy in the wide open moors. Fat Betty on the other hand…. 

We hiked the moors in mid-June, and so we missed what is probably one of the most distinguishing highlights of this territory – the heather in bloom. Oh, there were a few blooms here and there, enough to help us imagine what the entire landscape would look like if a purple blanket had been laid upon it. But we could only imagine. You’ll have to pass this way in late summer if you want to see the real thing. If the timing doesn’t work for you, a postcard of the moors in full bloom will do nicely. In fact, if you’re not inclined to drag a camera from coast to coast, or sit around waiting for the sun to shed light on your subject, you should know that there is no shortage of postcard purchasing opportunities along the route. One could complete their travel journal with postcards alone and not miss too many of the highlights. But if you want to document those priceless moments, such as the tropical birds of Kirkby Stephen (see Part II for an explanation of this unlikely event), then a camera is well worth the extra weight.

If you were fearful while watching the movie "An American Werewolf in London," you’ll be impressed with just how inviting the moors can be when it's not dark and foggy. There are no howling jackals about, and the locals aren’t looking at you with devious, sidelong glances. And while we were temporarily engulfed in a swarm of midgies at one point (absolutely my favorite insect name), we emerged from the moors essentially unscathed. And you can too!

The route through the North York Moors, beginning in either Ingleby Cross or Osmotherly and ending at Robin Hood’s Bay, includes three stopover locations. From west to east they are: Clay Bank Top, Blakey, and Grosmont/Glaisdale. The approximate distances for each segment are given below:

Day 1: Osmotherly/Ingleby Cross to Clay Bank Top = 11.5 miles

Day 2: Clay Bank Top to Blakey Junction = 9 miles

Day 3: Option 1 – Blakey to Grosmont = 13.5 miles

Day 3: Option 2 – Blakey to Glaisdale = 9.5 miles

Day 4: Grosmont/Glaisdale to Robin Hood’s Bay = 19/15 miles.

Day 1. Whether you’re starting from Ingleby Cross or Osmotherly, the trip to Clay Bank Top is a leisurely distance, but not without some fairly steep climbs and descents. For a moment or two, you may think you’re back in the Lake District. In fact, your knees will swear to it. But the ascents are not quite as steep and are short-lived compared to the Lakes. Your first and easiest climb of the day brings you through Arncliffe Wood (where you will pick up the Cleveland Way) to the top of Beacon Hill. From here you get a panoramic glimpse of a large array of radar, television and microwave transmitters. Unless you're packing a cell phone, it could be your closest encounter with technology on the entire walk.

Speaking of cell phones, I have to say that this trip proved there just might be a place for those annoying little contraptions after all. And it's not in your car, for God’s sake. It's on the trail. "That’s right, two orders of fish and chips and a couple of pints. Meet me at the trail crossing on Carlton Road. I’ll be there in twenty minutes." Whether it's dinner, a taxi or some other life-saving endeavor, the advantages of packing a phone are obvious, although the Yellow Pages can be a bit bulky to haul around.

After descending from Carlton Moor, you’ll stumble upon a little oasis called the Lord Stones Café. It's located right on the trail and is a welcome sight after 7 or 8 miles of ceaseless plodding. Immediately after leaving the cafe, if you can bring yourself to do so, you are faced with the ascent to Cringle Moor. But if your lunch isn’t sitting well, you do have the option of taking the low road. An alternate trail that parallels Wainwright’s route, but stays to the north and follows the contours along Kirkby Bank and Broughton Bank, avoids all of the ups and downs. This alternate trail meets up again with the main trail just before Clay Bank Top.

Upon reaching Clay Bank Top, which as far as we could tell is simply where the trail intersects the B1257 Stokesley-Helmsley Road, you will notice there is not much there. Actually, there is nothing there except a few benches where people with more foresight than ourselves were lounging, waiting to be chauffered to their accommodations. You see, it's still another 1 mile south or 2.5 miles north along the B1257 to the nearest town, and because we had no cell phone or any other means of contacting our hosts, we were not chauffered. We walked the additional 2.5 miles into Great Broughton (which has the most rooms to offer). This shouldn’t be a big deal because walking was the whole point of this trip, right? Just keep telling yourself that as your trail mates buzz by you, beating you to the pub by a good 60 minutes.

Day 2. After breakfast, and some unsightly begging for a ride back to the trail head, you’re ready to embark on a full day through the moors. Many walkers make the trek from Clay Bank Top to Glaisdale or Grosmont in one day. This is certainly doable because the trail is relatively flat and easily maneuvered. Another consideration is that there is only one place to lay your weary carcass between Clay Bank Top and Glaisdale, the Lion Inn at Blakey Junction, and there could very well be "no room at the Inn." But you’ve got one option that Joseph and Mary did not have – reservations. Once again the Coast to Coast is offering you alternatives, and once again I say, "Take the path of least subsistence." Split this segment into two days, and breeze into Blakey Junction rather than wheeze into Glaisdale.

You’ll start the day to Blakey Junction making a steep ascent to Carr Ridge and Urra Moor. After 3 or 4 miles the Cleveland Way will break off to the north (you’ll meet up with it once again upon reaching the coast), and in another short mile or so the trail will hook up with the dismantled Rosedale Ironstone Railway. This is the easiest walking on the Coast to Coast so far. Why, you’ll feel like you’re on one of those moving walkways at the airport, minus that ambient anxiety which permeates noisy, crowded, ugly places. Plus, you don’t have to stay to the right.

Day 3. The walk from Blakey Junction is…quiet. Despite the ample road walking, vehicles were few and far between, as were signs of humanity in general. However, you will encounter Old Ralph, Young Ralph and Fat Betty, three of the trail’s better known sentinels described earlier.

There just is not a lot going on in these parts, nor is there any particularly challenging terrain to focus on. This is a good day to get caught up on conversation, stop and read, or take a long lunch. You’ll still get into Glaisdale early, and there is not much going on there either until the kareoke gets started. That’s right, kareoke on the moors. This truly frightening pastime has managed to infiltrate some of the most sheltered rural landscape in the free world. Sigh. I suggest Warren Zevon’s "Werewolves of London" to get the crowd going.

Day 4. Today can only be described as bittersweet. With the end of a beautiful journey at hand, the prospect of going back to work rudely jackhammered its way through my fragile eggshell state of bliss, which had taken nearly two weeks to construct. But I wasn’t going to let this ruin what is arguably one of the finest days of the entire route. The approach into Robin Hood’s Bay is everything you daydreamed about while you were slogging through the mud, wandering aimlessly in the fog, swinging wildly at the midgies, and clawing breathlessly over the mountains.

But let's start back at Glaisdale. After descending from Glaisdale to the River Esk, you will begin slip sliding away along the muddy trails of East Arnecliff Wood. Upon emerging from the woods, you’ll be glad to know it's literally all road walking into Grosmont, giving you ample opportunity to stomp yourself clean. Of course, just as you're stomping that last bit of mud off your boots in Grosmont, you’re likely to become covered in soot as a steam locomotive pulls out of town. You see, Grosmont is the home of the North York Moors Railway Society, a local group of railway enthusiasts who have managed to preserve (and operate) a section of rail between Grosmont and Goathland, employing only steam-powered engines. It's quite a sight (and sound) to witness one of these dragon wagons in locomotion.

The ascent out of Grosmont is fairly steep and long, but you’ll be rewarded with your first good view of the North Sea as you approach Sleights Moor. From the moor you’ll descend once again, this time into Little Beck, then along a 2-mile stretch of what may be the most enchanting wood on the entire route. It starts off a little muddy, but as you ascend the trail dries out quickly. In addition to excellent medieval ambiance, the wood contains highlights such as the Hermitage (an ancient home carved out of stone) and Falling Foss waterfalls. I fully expected the Knights of the Round Table to come clattering around the bend, or at least an encounter with the Knights Who Say "Neet."

As you approach High Hawsker along Back Lane, you’ll pass a farm (on your right) with Scottish Highland Cows, a somewhat rare breed even in these parts. A little over a mile out of High Hawsker, you’ll meet up again with the Cleveland Way and embark along 3 miles of breathtaking coastal trail into Robin Hood’s Bay (see photo to right). If you began the day with bittersweet emotions, the bitter portion quickly dissolves as you traverse the magnificent cliffsides. You’ve traveled many miles to get here (quite a few today, in fact) so it's rather instinctive to slow your pace as you reach this final, and perhaps most scenic, stretch of the walk. We may have stopped more times along the last 3 miles of coastline than we did along the entire route. 

Eventually we got around to chucking the stones we had carried all the way from the beaches of the Irish Sea. Mission accomplished. After that there was plenty of time to sit in front of any number of picturesque backdrops, contemplating our journey and warding off the dreaded return home. Why was it so hard to go home after this trip? Partly because there was very little repetition along the route – every day brought new scenery and new sensations you’re not likely to experience anywhere else. Partly because there was still so much left to see – the more time you spend hiking in England, the more trails and destinations you discover. And partly because we had been made to feel at home by so many people we met along the way.

The End.