Unless otherwise stated, report by Paul Coates and pictures by Keith Bilton.
additional photos by Paul Holmes
Thursday 10th April 2008
Helwath Bridge, Helwath Wood, Jugger Howe Beck, Crosses Farm, Moor Cottage Farm, Harwood Dale Forest, Falcon Inn, Moorland House, Moorland Road, Beacon Windmill, Telecom's Mast, Stony Marl Moor, Helwath Bridge. 9.5 miles.
Sunny & warm for most of the day. Cloudy & cooler late afternoon.
Nathan, Paul, Col, Paul Craggs, Keith, Paul Holmes, Stu, Ray. Jack, Bob.
Stu, Bob, Col.
The trip out to Helwath Bridge on the A171 Whitby road involves negotiating the mean streets of Scarborough. But for once we managed to get through without too many hold ups. We found a nice parking spot on part of the old road which was long ago by-passed by the main road.
Apart from a short section of the Lyke Wake route across Stony Marl Moor, all the paths we trod today were over new ground for us. Everyone seemed to enjoy threading their way through the woodland alongside Jugger Howe Beck.
Jugger Howe Beck
The trees were not yet in leaf, but there were some early spring flowers in evidence. We took our morning break beside the beck in perfect spring sunshine. However we quickly discovered it was also home to armies of ants. Paul Craggs did his best to disturb the ants by poking a nest with his walking stick. No wonder they were annoyed.
We eventually climbed up out of valley and away from Jugger Howe Beck, after which we went a little bit astray. Theory's range from the path being diverted, but not signposted, to having the map upside down. However with some judicious use of the 'right to roam' we eventually got back on track.
There were still some patches of snow on the ground, particularly in Harwood Dale Forest. As ever Jack was on hand to point out any passing bird life.
He even tried his hand at distinguishing distant landmarks. But after pointing out Whitby Abbey, which later turned out to be Scarborough Castle, he wisely stuck to the resident wildlife.
Jack pointing out some interesting bird or could he be pretending to be a teapot?
One thing that was apparent right from the start was the waterlogged and muddy state of the paths.
In fact they sometimes went beyond mud and strayed into areas best measured off in fathoms. By far the worst section was beyond Moor Cottage Farm and into Harwood Dale Forest.
The path was basically two deep ruts full of water surrounded by very slippery mud. But just to ensure there was absolutely no escape, the deepest and muddiest parts had very prickly gorse bushes alongside them.
Among the slipping and sliding, and splashing and squelching, there was generous use of anglo saxon as another of our mud splattered group came into contact with a strategically placed gorse bush. Death by a thousand thorns!
Ray negotiating the gorse lined path!
As we progressed through the forest the path became less muddy, but the many pools of water became deeper and more tricky to avoid.
At some point or other I think everyone took an involuntary dip, usually greeted with a cheer and calls for our resident photographers to capture another floundering walker as he swam for shore (or so it seemed).
Yet another well sodden path!
With great relief we eventually arrived at the Falcon Inn, the first time any of us have visited this particular pub. There were a few diners dotted about the place, although there seemed to be only one member of staff in attendance. After what seemed like an age, but was in fact a bloody long time, we finally got served and shunted off into what the barmaid laughingly called the conservatory, but in reality was more akin to a greenhouse. But it was comfortable and there was much jollity, drinking and money changing, which is how it should be. Chancellor Craggs then gave us a demonstration of why he's the ace treasurer of our wayward group. Mr. Craggs had asked Paul to share out the money that remained from the beer and petrol kitty. It came to 80p each which was duly shared out. Shortly after, our esteemed keeper of the loot then collected all these 80p's back again, gave us some mumbo jumbo that even the IMF would have had difficulty understanding, then shared out the money again, from which we all got a £1 each! Non of us could even pretend to know what magic spell he wove to achieve such a feat.
The sun was still shining as we started out on the second half of our walk. We must have all been affected by the heat as Jack managed to persuade us to add a bit of extra mileage onto the walk.
A rare piece of terra firma!
However beyond Moorland House we encountered yet more mud and water. Again everyone got a share, but non more so than Bob, who at one point slipped in the mud and gracefully slid into a deep pool of muddy water.It was almost like watching the launch of a great ship onto the River Tyne.
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These historic pictures, captured by Paul (Sherlock) Holmes, graphically illustrate how someone with a vast knowledge of hillcraft can become unstuck by unfamiliar conditions.
The last section of the walk was across Stony Marl Moor. We could see the cars in the distance and we decided to leave the path and strike off through the heather. Perhaps the only upside to heather bashing is that it gets your boots clean.
And after all the mud and slop we'd ploughed through today, they certainly needed cleaning.
The cars were parked in a sheltered spot which gave us respite from the cold thin wind that had sprung up while we crossed the moor. As we got changed Jack claimed that someone had stolen his shoes. However he quickly realised that he was searching in vain in Col's car as his shoes were where he'd left them, in Stu's car.
Just as we left our parking spot the rain came down, perfect timing. Even our route home through Scarborough was yet again free of any hold-ups. We all agreed a good walk worth doing again, but without the mud, if you don't mind.
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