Sunday, 22nd August 2021
I met up with Ed in Lastingham up on the North York Moors for a spot of heathery overload before it was too late.
Someone had mentioned that the hardest
part of navigating is heading the right way out of the car park. After exploring every road out of Lastingham
(to see what was up there of course) we finally took the steepest one past the
pub. Or was it the one over the
beck? Did we even cross a road over the
beck? Was there a beck? Or maybe it was that other road. Anyhow, eventually we got to the end of
whatever road it was and burst out (okay, we walked through a gate) onto the
open access moorland:
After a quick skeg at the walk instructions we strode
confidently off, following a “clear track” across the increasingly heathery
loveliness. After a quick skeg at the
map we strode confidently to the not very clear track we should have been
on. Well, we wanted to see what that scrap
of paper pinned to a fence said about the arson/wildfires near the bathing
pools anyway.
Mandatory sheep in heather pic:
The instructions said to cross Tranmire Beck and we dropped
down quite steeply to do this. Crossing
the beck was easy enough and that part of the walk was the steepest and
roughest of the whole walk. Looking back
from whence we came:
The instructions said something along the lines of keep
ahead until you reach a track at Askew Rigg, then turn left:
Track successfully and uneventfully reached, we turned
left. It’s a very clear track isn’t
it? Not really difficult to accidentally not
walk on it, is it? I’m glad we were
using our own unique blend of navigational skills rather than plotting the
route on a GPS because, if we had, we’d have plotted the route following the
RoW … and then we’d have been yomping across trackless heather because that was
absolutely nowhere near this track.
There was lots of tumuli-usses dotted around. Most looked like little heathery upturned pudding
basins but this one was obviously a very important person. Marked on the map as nothing more than “Pile
of Stones” now. At first, we were thinking
the little heathery puddings weren’t very big for a person to be buried in but
further reading says they mark a grave so there is someone buried under them –
a kind of ancient headstone then, I guess.
The instructions said “ignore path to left”. Which we duly did, mainly because we never
saw one to ignore in the first place.
We reached “Abrahams Hut” which appeared to be another pile
of stones, and even then, that would be a fairly loose description. So we might not have reached Abrahams Hut at
all. The map shows a gazillion paths,
the instructions were basically saying keep left/take the left path. Where this maze of paths was I do not know
because, yep, you’ve guessed it, that very clear sandy track? We were still on that with not a left turn in
sight.
It started spit-spotting with rain and, looking at the big
black cloud which seemed to be heading our way, we decided it was a waterproofs
on moment. Good job because it did start
to rain properly, albeit briefly.
Although not part of the walk route Ed had, we were nearing
Redmans Cross (remains of) and I felt an uncontrollable urge to heather hop and
go and find it. After a couple of false
alarms, we found it:
There was a sort of cliff face(!) nearby so we sheltered in
there and had Snack Stop number 1:
…before heading back along the faint soggy track back to
that unmissable sandy track:
From here, Ana Cross comes into view:
At first, I was reluctant to take this pic because there
were other people there but it gives a bit of scale to the size of the
cross. They hung around a while admiring
the views and I think took a selfie or two before disappearing.
Getting nearer:
There was no inscription or plaque with any info on. Just a huge cross, in the middle of the moors:
This is the opposite view of one Ed took. We took the pics at the same time, facing
each other. In’t being invisible great!
The instructions said “take the path south”. Umm.
The only track we could see was the one we’d come off. You know, that massive, obvious sandy
track. And that wasn’t heading
south. Compass time. After discovering which way was south, we
heading in “generally that direction”. And
joined up fairly quickly with another obvious sandy track. Who knows, it could have been “our” sandy
track that curved round. The moors can
be very deceptive. Anyhow, this was
still heading in a generally south sort of direction so we thought we’d give it
a shot. So far, both the map and the instructions had been next to useless!
But it was very easy walking on very gentle gradients and
would probably make a good winter walk, although the drive down into Lastingham
might be a bit hairy if it was icy.
Somewhere along this path we had Snack Stop Number 2:
We perched on a large square slab of stone. Selfishly, I nabbed the direction with the
best view whilst Ed, too scared to argue with me, sat facing a boring
view. The sun had come out by now and it
was the nicest part of the day. I’m so
glad I got to see the heather in all it’s wonderful, purpleyfield glory
Looking across to Cropton Forest:
We sat here a while and discussed aches and pains, mainly
prompted by Ed's impressive downward dog yoga pose to ease his back. That set me off so I had to have a go and
then I had to do a tree pose stood on the square stone, much to the amusement
of a couple who were strolling past.
More gentle downhill and we were soon, too soon, back at the
gate:
There is a bench here and we sat here a while too which was
a bad idea because we started talking about popping into the pub before the
drive home.
So we did. And sat in
the beer garden a while too. First time
I’ve been in a pub since the Plague struck and it felt nice to do something
normal. The food looked and smelt
delicious but we didn’t partake.
Walking back to the cars we spotted a few wells in the
village:
What a smashing walk amongst oodles of heathery, purpleyfied
loveliness. Cheers Ed.
Oh, on my drive home, I passed a pub sign – unofficially renaming
itself “The Vaccinated Arms” which made me chuckle.
Thanks for reading.