Day 17: Great Broughton to Blakey Ridge

Today is the first time all trip that I'm posting the blog entry on the day we actually walked the route in the post. The reason being quite simple: we arrived at our destination (The Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge) at 2 PM, leaving me plenty of time to do yesterday's and today's blog post.

Here are Therese's "pristine" feet, taken last night in Great Broughton; after 15 days of walking (more than 160 miles), narry a blister or blemish. (Photo NOT photo-shopped as Peter's wise-cracking step-brother charged.)

We awoke around 5AM to the sounds of ferocious winds. We ignored this frightening sound and went back to sleep only to toss and turn, imagining the conditions up on Urra Moor, which we'd be traversing most of the walk later this AM. We decided that, for the first time, we'd dress for cold weather (temps are expected to be 50, but winds could be up to 20 mph and by the sounds of it quite gusty.) When we inquired about the wind from our B&B host, he glanced out the window and in classic British fashion, commented that it didn't look especially bad at all.

After our first truly mediocre breakfasts of the trip, we got a ride from our B&B hosts from Great Broughton to the start of the track at Clay Bank Top and started off at about 9AM.

 Not a video, so you probably can't really tell how blustery it was as we started off, but the tree branches do give some indication.

The walk started off with a moderately long but not terribly steep climb over thankfully dry paving stones. (Not at all like yesterday.)

 The valley below and to our north (where our B&B was located) began to clear; we could at least imagine where the North Sea was located even if we couldn't exactly see it through the mist. (Note Roseberry Topping in the right corner of the photo.)

Looks like it'a often pretty windy on Urra Moor.

 Before long, the fog rolled in and it was hard to see very far in any direction. Truly, a foreboding prospect, just like in Wuthering Heights, which Therese is re-reading.

 The heather on the moor.

 More heather with some hills visible behind, as the fig temporarily lifted.

A brief glimpse of Farndale below and south of us; until a few minutes ago, we hadn't been able to see anything to that side of us due to the fog.

 The fog is rolling back in.

 The brown moor and the green valley below

Elevenses

 A farm in Farndale Valley below

 A young moor walker briefly joins us in the fog on a shortcut across a boggy piece of moor to the famous Lion Inn (4th highest Inn in England).

 The car park at the Lion Inn, a very popular destination for walkers and holiday-makers.

 A couple of inside shots; they don't really do it justice. It looks and feels like an Inn and Pub from hundreds of years ago.

Oh, that old bald guy, reading the Coast to Coast guide in the pub of the Lion is Peter.

At dinner with our new Aussie friends, Anne and Steve; we've been traveling at more or less the same rate since Reeth.