Tenth Walk Day - Keld to Reeth

The night before this walk day was brilliantly clear with a gorgeous, purple sunset and a nearly full moon hovering over the fells.  (We are now in the Yorkshire Dales, but we were reminded that "dales" are valleys and the hills can still be called "fells".)  The air was crisp and the fells surrounded our small hamlet, providing an almost cozy feeling to the setting.  We slept the sleep of the deservedly exhausted.

This day dawned crisp, relatively cold, and mostly clear.  We awoke more sore of muscle than we have been heretofore.  The rigors of the previous day's slog through the bogs were more enervating than we expected. None-the-less, we sat down to a Yorkshire breakfast (eggs, bacon, sausage, grilled mushroom, grilled tomato, toast, porridge, fruit, juice, and tea) and lively conversation with fellow walkers around a communal table.  As has been true most days, the meal was superb and conversation engaging.

Much fortified and considerably more alert, we set off down a path that promised to be the most beautiful and the most gentle that we have experienced so far.  We were to follow the River Swale through Swaledale (each dale carries the name of its essential river or stream) for about 12.5 miles - downhill.
 

This dale lives up to its billing as among the most beautiful valleys in northern England.  The River Swale was a bank full, fast moving stream colored a near perfect root beer hue, due to its source in the peat bogs at the crest (see yesterday's story).  The Swale runs east towards the North Sea, unlike all of the previous streams that we have followed.  It has carved a broad valley with steep sides anchored in limestone palisades rising 500 or more feet above the river.  Above the palisades, the fells rise another 500 feet to the high moors.  Despite the impressive heights and land forms, the valley retains a soft, gentle character very much in harmony with the sheep, pasture land, and scattered stone farm buildings.  The moors above the valley present a considerably more dour and almost sinister character, somehow enhancing the loveliness of the dale itself.  While we could not see any remnants of the mines, we were told that lead mining was a major industry in the upper moors, creating scars on this landscape.

Our route took us steeply down out of Keld and into the valley.  We enjoyed several miles of close association with the river, walking through pastures full of sheep.  Another misreading of signs (and more attention to conversation with fellow walkers than to maps) led us onto a dirt road that ascended the side of the valley with expansive views up and down the dale.  Much to our chagrin, the path rose and rose and rose, finally leveling out above the escarpment.  While not what we expected, the dramatic scenery was worth the effort.  We dropped down to Gunnerside, a hamlet near the water, where we had lunch in a classic Yorkshire tea room (strawberry cream scones and Yorkshire tea).

This is also a land of sturdy, finely made stone houses and barns and ubiquitous dry stone walls.  Many of the buildings have stood for centuries, and bear witness to the industry and fortitude of generations of hill farmers.  Unfortunately, many of the farms now stand empty and derelict.

Somehow, the last 2-3 miles of each day's walk seem interminable, no matter how lovely the scenery or easy the walk.  Our bodies seem to reach a point where a rest at days' end is all that matters.  I think we were also feeling the effects of the previous day's rigors.  We ascended a rather steep path into Reeth and found our B&B, Hackney House, at the edge of the village.

Reeth is a true village, with several churches, pubs and shops surrounding a village green.  It is set on a hillside overlooking Swaledale and is the market town for the region.  Much of its wealth had come from lead mining as well as farming.  We had few expectations for the town and were, therefore, delighted by its picturesque, jumbled charm and quiet beauty.  

CtoC hikers seem to gravitate towards each other without conscious effort.  Nearly 20 of us converged on the Kings Arms Pub (there seems to be one in every town) for a pint and dinner.  Our group hailed from various parts of England, New Zealand, Australia, Canada, Holland, and (of course) the US.  We have been greeting many of these folks on various days along the trail and have enjoyed sharing stories, problems and tips.  This was a loud, energized affair fortified by very good Yorkshire beer.  Life stories were shared and amongst the good natured ribbing and sports rivalries were some wonderful political discussions and philosophical explorations.  

What more can one ask than an opportunity to enjoy wonderful scenery, good exercise and stimulating, supportive companions?