Coast to Coast - Day 11

Day 11 - Ingleby Arncliffe to Clay Bank Top (12 miles)

Looking back across the Vale of Mowbray to Richmond

We set off on a lovely sunny day and I think this was one of my favourite day's walking.

I was expecting a steep climb and then a walk across a boggy plateau, but the path (now on part of the Cleveland Way) sticks to the edge of the moors and it's a rollercoaster walk up and down half a dozen valleys until we reached Clay Bank Top where we picked up a lift to our bed for the night.

What made it enjoyable was:

The weather - light sunshine, but not too hot, a brisk wind on the top and just a few showers.

The views - back to Richmond and the Pennines, our first view of the North Sea beyond Middlesbrough and the extending moors, with Roseberry Topping at the end of the vista.

The path - at last there was a well-maintained path, tastefully done, and we were generally walking on natural flagstones laid across the bog.

The waymarking - pretty clear Cleveland Way signs, with some supplementary coast-to-coast signs.

Roseberry Topping, called the Matterhorn of Cleveland, was a constant companion today. It's right at the end of the Cleveland Hills and, although not the tallest, its half-dome shape and its slight remoteness at the end of the hills gives it added significance. It's also a lovely pink colour. Until 1912, the hill was a sugarloaf, but a huge rockfall saw a third of the mass collapse, creating the jagged cliff face and half-dome we see today. The collapse was blamed on alum and ironstone mining, so another example of nature healing a despoiled landscape, albeit with a distinctive scar.

Roseberry Topping - the Matterhorn of Cleveland

It was a little odd just the two of us walking and we did miss Sue, but it was not without its compensations. We could now fart Uncle Phil style (more tea vicar?) without the need to drop well to the rear of the group and stopping for a quick wee needed much less planning. From Ingleby Arncliffe, it was a short walk downhill to Ingleby Cross, past the Blue Bell and then steadily upwards onto the ridge.

On the way, we passed the ruins of Mount Grace Priory founded in the 14th Century and seized by Henry VIII in 1537. It was a Carthusian monastery, an order that believed the world was inherently wicked and that they should have no part of it. Monks lived an ascetic life in individual cells and spent the whole day (5.45am to 2.30am in prayer, or so they would have you believe). There are still some monks' cells intact and they do include remarkably advanced (for the time) plumbing, cupboard space and a garden. Carthusian monasteries were known as charterhouses and HQ was La Grand Chartreuse near Grenoble (been there, bought the green drink).

On the way up, we stopped at a viewpoint to take a picture and who should pop up but Mr and Mrs Two Homes. I was trying for a selfie, but they took our photo and we took theirs. We saw them just once more - at the Lord Stones - but they were also doing a long walk today and would finish a day ahead of us. David said he didn't mind them that much after all, so I asked him if he was enjoying it yet and that set him off on a long rant about Porsches, speeding, Mondeos ...

The descents were quite steep and David's knee, which had not much troubled him for a couple of days, was now hurting. I have to say that I also found some of them rather jarring.

We met a new couple that we kept passing during the day. He was, what they'd say in Spain, a "gordo", but he was pretty fast on his feet in spite of his size. We tended to pass them on the way up, but he was lightning fast downhill (I guess it was all down to gravity). The most amazing thing was that he just had T-shirt and shorts on despite the sharp wind and odd shower. We thought he might be a Newcastle fan, but he probably thought we were a couple of nesh southerners.

A good day's walking is not complete without a tea stop and there's a splendid cafe at the Lord Stones. This was around two-thirds of the way into our route and we had a leisurely break so as not to arrive too early at our overnight stop. Many walkers make this a 21-mile day, but after yesterday's long plod, I was happy enough to take it steady.

Because there are no villages on this part of the route, the arrangement today was that we were to call our B&B and they would pick us up where the B1257 crosses the path at Clay Bank. We were advised that there was no mobile signal at Clay Bank, so we should call from the Wainstones which was about half an hour's walk away. Not only had we lost Sue, we had also lost her useful map holder, and I was in charge of the map because I had the only pocket it would fit into easily. David was in "are we nearly there yet?" mode and kept wondering if this was the Wainstones. Unhelpfully, for such a well-known feature, they are not marked on the Harvey's map, but they were on my OS app. I kept telling him we wouldn't miss them when we got there, but then my phone rang. It was our landlady asking if we were there yet.

God! It's like having two children in the back of the car. Landlady Janet Taylor was checking we hadn't called because she had been out and I told her we'd call from the Wainstones as advised.

The Wainstones - we weren't going to miss these babies

The Wainstones, when they arrived, were unmistakable, a rocky outcrop of great slabs of sandstone on Hasty Bank and there was a party of young novice climbers busy learning the ropes. There are an astonishing 65 routes on this small area of rock. Having reached the Wainstones, I duly called Janet and said we'd be at Clay Bank in 45 minutes. The route notes say 30, but I allowed an extra quarter of an hour because the descent would be steep and we were taking it slow going down. As it happened, we were there in 30, but I was quite happy having a sit down while we waited.

Janet has a house with two rooms in Chop Gate, which is a few miles down the road into Blisdale. It's a tiny hamlet and her home is stone built and made to last. She's a former teacher, very nice, but can talk for England. With a welcome cup of tea, she offered us banana cake, which was gratefully scoffed.

The choice of where to eat that night was the local pub called the Buck Inn. It was run by a German and there was a choice of around six German beers, including a brune and a wheat beer. We really wanted Black Sheep! To eat, I had Hunter's schnitzel (chicken) with Spätzle (a German noodle) and it was very good, especially washed down with a couple of glasses of German wine. The evening finished with a Havana Club - near perfect!

As we were leaving, I spotted El Gordo in the bar with his wife and stopped to say hello. They were walking a section of the Cleveland Way and now he was in a nice warm pub, he had put on a proper shirt and fleece. Explain that one!

Above: looking back across the Vale of Mowbray to the Pennines. Below: a distant view of the North Sea with
Roseberry Topping at the far right of the picture.