Latest Walk

Thursday 14th. January 2010

North Cave, Finkle Street, Old Railway, A63, Cave Common Farm, Mill Beck, Mill Farms, Ruffham Field, Ellerker, Field Path, Lane, Brantingham (The Triton), Brantingham Dale, Woodale Farm, Mount Airy Farm, Great Wold Plantation, Little Wold Plantation, Lane, Everthorpe, Lane, Sports Field, North Cave (14 miles).

Weather: Cloudy, misty & cold.

.Stu, John.

This is a good start to the walking year. We are only on the 2nd walk in the 2010 FAC walking programme and yet again we've had to change the venue. This time it was because of all the snow and ice we've been stricken with in recent weeks. We should have been in the Thixendale area today with a short walk followed by some of East Yorkshire's finest egg & chips at the Cross Keys (this has now become an FAC tradition during January). But we surmised that the area around Thixendale would still have more than it's fair share of snow lying around so we chose instead to stay closer to home in the Brantingham area betwixt Humber and Wold.

Both parties arrived within a few minutes of each other at the small car park opposite All Saints' Church in North Cave. As boots were being laced and hats and gloves were being donned Jack announced that he had a complaint about some of the photos in the 2009 FAC log of walks. He'd observed that some of the faces in the pictures appeared to have been stretched making them almost cartoon like. There was an audible gasp from the startled walkers and to a man they took a step back leaving Jack standing alone in the spotlight of Keith's piercing glare. Had Jack really dared to criticise Keith's photographic competence? Did he not realise that Keith has the ability to perform black magic whilst wielding the awesome power of Photoshop? We feel sure he soon will...........!

Jack after criticising the cover of the Journal, doesn't he know the camera never lies?

By 8.30 we were almost ready for the off when it was noted that both Keith and John were sporting new boots. It was felt that some sort of ceremony should mark this auspicious occasion and as luck would have it Stu just happened to have a vessel containing Lourdes holy water in the back of his car (as you do). So the Very Reverend Paul blessed the still gleaming footwear with copious amounts of Lourdes finest export, which if nothing else demonstrated that the boots were waterproof. Amen to that!

Last time we did this walk (New Years Day 2009) we had trouble finding the footpath at the end of Finkle Street (Finkle is Old Norse meaning 'corner') as it was hidden among some new houses. This time though we located the path like seasoned walkers while noting the yellow way marker we clearly failed to observe just over a year ago.

Stu and his holy water

Another notable difference from our foray over this route on the first day of 2009 was when we crossed the A63. Back then all was quiet without a vehicle in sight, we even posed for a photo in the fast lane. This time we had to dodge the fast moving traffic as we barely had time to pause for breath as we darted across the road. Stu suggested it might be a wheeze to just jump out from some adjacent bushes and into the oncoming flow of traffic to see if they were fully observing their stopping distances. This report would have been much shorter if we had taken up his suggestion.

Once safely across the road we made our way along frozen field paths to Cave Common Farm. Jack 'Rocket' Rhoades was in full moan mode as he complained that we'd either "set off to early" or "we'd be at the pub by 11" and not forgetting that old chestnut "why can't we add some mileage on?". Just to wind him up even more the pace was set at 'leisurely' which we steadfastly stuck to all day long.

Keith running for his life (photo by Col)

It wasn't a windy day, fortunately, but there was certainly a very cold chill in the air. In an area of little shelter we managed to find a convenient haystack to sit against while we had our morning break. We attracted the attention of some nearby sheep but they soon lost interest when they realised that our resident sheep interpreter Sherlock was not with us today. Baaah!

Ellerker is always a nice village to walk through even in the depths of winter. Adding a splash of colour to the scene was a bright yellow Chevy pick-up truck(click) hidden down a driveway. And the bamboo we'd noted last year growing along the edge of a field had now expanded to fill the whole field.

Grub up (photo by Col)

We arrived at The Triton in Brantingham just before 12. Unfortunately this is another one of those pubs that caters for the hungry car driver at the expense of the thirsty walker. Every table was set up with knives, forks and serviettes without a beer mat in sight. We were first through the door and once the staff realised we wouldn't be requiring menus the cutlery adorning our corner table rapidly disappeared. Maybe they thought these vagabonds from Hull would make off with the silverware.

Still it was a nice warm sanctuary from the cold outside so we shouldn't complain too much. Jack sorted out the kitty and we all ended up with £3 back. We had tried to persuade John to sort the money out mindful of our last visit to The Triton where he'd stood in as finance minister and we all ended up with more money than we'd put in! He sadly declined our request though.

As we left the pub the car park and into the cold afternoon air a disembodied female voice alerted Stu to the fact that he'd dropped his gloves in the pub car park. We looked around to locate the owner of the voice and we soon realised it had come from the upper storey of a nearby cottage. It appears she'd shouted to Stu by opening the window in her nightie prompting the reply "that's a funny place to have a window". This just goes to prove that the old ones are the best........

All Saints, Brantingham

As we made our way out of Brantingham village we passed a 'road closed' sign which we took to mean motorists rather than pedestrians.

There had been snow around all day but as the lane began to climb the crunchy snow and ice underfoot became deeper and more compacted. We passed the pretty All Saints' Church (obviously a popular name for churches round these parts) which is set among the trees of Brantingham Dale.

The morning had been flat with only the odd stile to climb whereas the afternoon route, mostly along The Wolds Way, was much hillier in character. It was harder going with the snow and ice making it difficult at times to get traction.

Posing in the snow

After a steady climb up to Mount Airy Farm we encountered East Yorkshire's very own Area 51 or, if you prefer, South Cave International Airport. Obviously the owners of the airstrip are readers of these fortnightly reports on the internet as the previous comments alluding to the distressed state of their windsock have clearly been noted and a nice new windsock now adorns the mini airport.

We had our afternoon break at Great Wold Plantation perching ourselves on various fallen trees. Just as we'd got ourselves comfortable(ish) our laid up leader Bob rang Paul from his hospital bed to see how we were getting on and to give a report of his recent 'sensitive' operation in full glowing technicolor. It would appear that Bob was given an early morning alarm call that would bring tears to the eyes of the bravest of men and is not to be recommended for those of a squeamish disposition. His advice is stick to alarm clocks.

After this short stop, any longer would have had us frozen to the spot, we slithered and slipped our way downhill to cross the South Cave road and then onwards and upwards towards our last climb of the day to Little Wold Plantation.

South Cave International Airport

It was here that we noticed 'Rocket' Rhoades way out in the distance and almost disappearing into the mist. We didn't see him again until we reached the cars back in North Cave. It appears he'd decided, without mentioning it to anyone else, to take a different route to the planned one and instead took a route past Drewton adding on a few extra miles in the process. As we meandered through the wood and along the lane past Everthorpe we began to wonder where he was.

We had earlier passed by a strange looking character who was pottering around in a weed infested garden which was slowly devouring an assortment of farm implements in varied states of disrepair surrounded by various dilapidated out buildings.

Looking like a film extra from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre we wondered if he'd kidnapped poor old Jack and locked him in one of his tumbledown outbuildings? We even began to formulate a feasible story we could tell Pam to explain why Jack had seemingly disappeared, and to tell it without laughing.

Looking for Jack

But there he was large as life back at the cars as we arrived just as the church clock struck four. We can only guess at Jack's mileage but the rest of us had done 22.4 kilometres, or almost 14 miles in old money. That is according to Keith's GPS navigation system on his new phone. This new version tells us how many miles we've walked including the long trek to the bar and back in the pub. We know that Jack will dispute the mileage we've done but you can't argue with technology. Like the camera, the GPS doesn't lie...........!