Hike Notes
Finally came down off the ridge today (and the weather was decent enough to get a nice view longer than 5 feet!). Started off at Young Ralph and quickly came across another anthropomorphized statue: Fat Betty. The tradition at Fat Betty is to leave a sweet and take a previously left sweet. I left a salt water taffy and would have taken some of the candy that was there, but they were very soggy from the rain. I'm sure Fat Betty will appreciate the larger collection.
Craig had a classic case of love at first sight
On the way down we came across a group of bird hunters and their dogs. The dogs would rustle up the birds and people would raise some flags as the birds pass, I assume to alert the actual hunters which direction they were headed. It was a bit disconcerting to hear the gunshots so close.
We stopped for lunch at the first town at the bottom of the hill: Glaisdale, which is part of the "Tour de Yorksire", evident by the cool bike art on their power lines.
Exiting Glaisdale we came across an old arch footbridge constructed in the 1690's. After stopping to admire it we trekked through a nearby forest with some pretty intense trees. With the humidity and mud it had almost a rainforesty sort of feel (or what I imagine a rainforest feels like).
We left the forest and came into Grosmont (LPT: The 's' is silent): home of a steam train (with wooden passenger cars!) rail line. This should have been our stopping point, but Rockin' Roy made us push a couple more miles up the hill out of Grosmont, so it would be mostly all down hill for our last day. We were picked up on the side of the A169 road way in a cold misty fog.
PIDs and Asterisks
I think I really overdid it the past couple days. My feet are getting sore/swollen quicker and quicker it seems. I spent the first half of our lunch break taking off my shoes and massaging my feet to alleviate the pain. I even took some Advil to try and get me through the day. I think it helped a bit, however, once it kicked in, I stupidly started pushing myself again (and even had a short race with Jane at the very end) so I think it ended up doing more harm than good. Stupid. Stupid.
But, there is only one day left! I'll crawl the last 14 miles if I have to. I just hope the doping won't preclude me from the record books.
Foot Status: 3 stripped Tour de Yorkshire medals out of 10
Hikers Exposed: Death on the Trail
(Viewer discretion advised)
While coming down off the ridge today, we ran into a group of police. They had blocked off the official coast to coast path and were directing us to an alternative trail around.
They wouldn't say much to our group but Rockin' Roy insisted that someone tell at least him in private what was going on. We all appreciated that since, of course, we were assuming it was Sam related.
Rockin' Roy later told us the good news and the bad news, in that order. Actually, it was more like not terrible news and terrible news. The incident was not Sam related (and still there was no news about her whereabouts), but there had been a death on the trail.
They told Roy that a youngish man had taken a nasty fall and cracked his head open. Based on some of the details Roy got from the officer, it must have been an extemely unlucky slip. It's not like he fell from a cliff or something. We were at the top of a plateau. And the moors are covered with soft heather. Yet, according to the officer, he fell on his head so hard that "parts of it were missing"... Poor guy.
Our group was pretty shaken after that. Even after coming down off the ridge and going through the forest I had a paranoid feeling like I was being watched and followed. To the point that a quick rustling through the trees made me practially jump out of my boots. I turned to look and thought I saw an orangish blur moving into the woods, but it was moving so fast it was gone before I could make it out. Maybe a fox or something? I don't know, it seemed too big for that. All I know is, the sooner we get to the coastal cities and away from the moors, the better.