Report by Paul Coates pictures by Keith

Thursday 13th August 2009

Hartoft End, Hartoft Bridge, Spiers Bank House, Low Muffles, Head House, Hartoft Moor, White House, Duks Ley Farm, Russell's Wood, Pry Hills Wood, The Grange, Alder Carr Lane, Rosedale Abbey (Coach House Inn), Lane, White Horse Inn, Newlands Farm, Hollins Farm, Moors Path, River Seven, Hartoft Bridge, Hartoft End (9.5 miles).

Sunny & warm

Paul, Paul Craggs, Keith, Paul 'Sherlock' Holmes, Dudley, Ray, Jack, Bob.

Dudley & Sherlock.

Hartoft Panorama

There were only eight of us out today with Chris & John away on holiday, Col allegedly working at Beverley Racecourse and Stu having an easy day of it doing the Three Peaks.

The original plan had been to park up in Rosedale Abbey and eventually make our way to the Blacksmith's at Hartoft End. However during the preceding few days Paul had tried to contact the pub to check if they were open, but to no avail. So guessing the pub might have closed we decided to walk from Hartoft End to Rosedale Abbey where there are 3 pubs to choose from. Just as well we did as the pub appeared to have pulled its last pint some months earlier.

Keith was sporting some new shorts, shirt and compass and a hi-tech Crag Hopper walking stick complete with titanium tip. We suspected it was of a type designed for use by the Bulgarian secret service. Dudley was also looking every inch the gentleman walker, all that was missing was a pipe and deer stalker.

Dudley,Bob and Sherlock

As we set off we had a quick look at the notices stuck to the doors and windows of the Blacksmith's hostelry. It would appear that someone plans to re-open it at some future date which is good news. We have only used the pub occasionally and it's certainly been a good while since we've honoured it with our presence. One famous FAC incident here many years ago was when Bob threw his empty crisp packet onto the fire not realising it wasn't a real fire at all but one of those pretend ones, so we pretended not to laugh.

We made good progress along the forestry track at Spiers Bank. The sun was out and the temperature was rising but it was nice and cool along the tree lined track. We had our morning break at the edge of the thickly wooded forest on Hartoft Moor where we helped Dudley out by eating his delicious apple pies. This was only done to prevent Dudley from having to carry them in his rucksack as we knew there would be some climbing later. This is what friends are for.

Paul and Shelock dwarved by the trees

The path down the eastern side of Rosedale was an interesting one as it wound its uneven way through head high bracken. Keith's dodgy knees were complaining about the steepness of the path, even with the aid of his new stick. He was even heard to mutter why it was we couldn't do a walk that was all uphill thus giving his creaky knees an easier time. We say be careful what you wish for, especially if Bob hears you uttering such statements. Our intrepid leader is a past master at finding walks that appear to be uphill all day.

It seemed that our favoured pub in Rosedale Abbey, the White Horse Inn, was yet another victim of the recession. Paul had given it a call earlier in the morning but the phone only rang a couple of times then went off, so we decided to call in at the Coach House Inn instead. This pub is noted for its adult themed ornate carvings on the wall surrounding the pub. These depict cherub like figures in a state of undress with an occasional sheep thrown in for variety. We did think that maybe the carvings were Welsh in origin.

Somehow or other Bob ended up with 2 pints of Black Sheep bitter. Our beer connoisseur Keith pointed out their cloudy nature and vinegar like aroma. He even suggested the said ale was more likely to have been brewed by Sarsons than Theakstons. Bob drank them anyway not wishing to appear ungrateful for this unexpected windfall.

We decided to sit outside the pub and enjoy the lovely weather. A short while later a couple of holiday makers and their dog turned up and sat at an adjacent table. They soon disappeared into the pub leaving their dog tied to the table leg. It was a nice old dog which appeared to be blind but with a peculiar stance as if listening to the surrounding conversation without appearing to be nosey. Unfortunately its bearded owner turned out to be a bit of a pub bore who at one point attempted to tell us a rubbish joke badly. Even his dog fell asleep.

Jacknav and Craggsy wait for the laggards

After a couple of pints, purely to refresh the liquids lost during the morning as we toiled uphill and down dale, we set off along the lane that leads to the very steep climb out of Rosedale Abbey that is Chimney Bank. Fortunately we struck off in a southerly direction at the White Horse Inn just where the long climb upwards begins. After being unable to contact the pub earlier in the day we were surprised to see it open for business. It turns out that the pub has a new phone number so we made a note of it for future reference.

Sherlock took a tumble on the moors path between Hollins Farm and Hartoft Bridge. He certainly went down with a thud and no doubt the seismograph at the Earthquake Research Centre in distant Pasadena, California twitched a little. In fact a short while later we were buzzed by a bright yellow helicopter which we assumed had been dispatched from a local airfield to search for the epicentre of this mini earth tremor.

Ray takes a breather

A little while later we took our afternoon grub stop among the heather and bracken. Jack mentioned that we'd left the pub at 1.30 and we'd been walking for an hour. However Bob's watch said it was 1.20! Had we been time travelling, arriving at our grub stop 10 minutes before leaving the pub? Or had Bob's watch been bored to a dead stop by the bloke back at the Coach House Inn? Never mind Bob at least your watch will be right twice a day.

When we've followed this route in the past we have normally crossed the River Seven by a footbridge at Scugdale. However Bob had heard of some stepping stones across the river and was keen to see exactly where they were. So with help from SatNav Keith we located the path towards the river and then the stepping stones. Fortunately the river was fairly low so the stones were easily negotiated. Even Jack managed to keep his feet dry as he's known to have form when it comes to falling in water.

Dudley negotiates the crossing

After discovering this new corner (for us) of the North Yorkshire Moors we were soon back at our start point at Hartoft End. Another good day on the hills.