Lyke Wake Walk September 2014

Well this is becoming a bit of a recurring theme isn't it?! For the third time this year, Claire, Dave and myself found ourselves drawn to this crossing of the North York Moors across land steeped in legend and history.

It would be hard to top the June 2014 crossing where we were treated to perfect conditions, accompanied by a beautiful sunset and sunrise, but this journey once again turned out to be a special one.

It was my second reverse crossing, the first time having been done in atrocious conditions back in January. This time, as we set off, once again in the dark, but with incredibly clear skies and reasonably dry conditions underfoot.

Doing the walk in reverse means that the first ten miles require more navigation than expected - what seems like a straightforward walk during the day from Fylingdales over to Ravenscar becomes a lot more challenging at night. Instead of being one simple track headed towards the mast, paths divert off to the left and right all over the place and you have to keep your wits about you. This time, Fylingdales was completely lit up and looked even more alien at night than it does during the day, but this helped simplify navigation beside Little Eller Beck and along the boundary fence of the RAF territory.

The rest of the night passed almost without incident. Dave couldn't resist the urge to lie down on the few pieces of tarmac crossed to gaze up at the firmament, It has to be said this was possibly the most incredible night sky I had ever seen, and just when I thought it couldn't get any better Claire and I got to see a giant shooting start dart across the skies.

Of course no LWW can be completely trouble-free. The minor incidents this time were getting slightly lost on the trek back up Wheeldale, and a short twenty minute game of hunt-the-GPS-in-the-heather, which Claire won, and for which I will be forever grateful! This happened just as the sun was rising - any earlier and we would never have found it.

With the sun rising in our backs as we hit the railway track, we had the beautiful sight of a mist-filled Farndale accompanying us for the next couple of miles. Rather annoyingly, by this stage I had developed a couple of blisters which slowed me down and make the last twenty miles of walking pretty uncomfortable.

As we headed over Bloworth Crossing up to the heights of Round Hill and Urra Moor we passed the first walkers of the day. Oddly enough we only saw Cleveland Way types, I had been expecting to meet at least one or two other groups of people tackling the LWW from West to East on this beautiful day.

A reverse crossing meant that we got to experience the views and scenery of the Cleveland Hills in the daylight. This means a slow rollercoaster ride over tops like Hasty Bank, with the walk through the Wainstones being a particular highlight. By now the blisters were causing me problems, and I had slowed down a fair bit, but the scenery was more than enough compensation for a bit of discomfort.

We had an additional voice of encouragement when the New Lyke Wake Walk Club general secretary Gerry Orchard gave us a quick call to see how we were getting on, during one of the rare occasions of having a strong phone signal!

The Cleveland Hills were bustling with activities, with plenty of people out enjoying the clear weather and the recently renovated Lord Stones site looks to be very busy which is good news for the National Park.

The last few miles of the walk seem to go on for ever on tired legs, but with a reverse crossing the final stretch crosses a variety of terrain as you come down through woodland after Live Moor, crossing farmland before returning to the wooded Coalmire plantation. The last steps as you exit the plantation have now reached legendary status in our little walking group and they don't fail to disappoint every time - an absolute killer!

All that remained was the last section of tarmac to greet the stone at the start/ end, then back to the car at Cod Beck. Minutes later we were enjoying the welcoming atmosphere in the Queen Catherine hotel at Osmotherley, toasting another fine North Yorkshire Moors experience.

Lyke Wake Walk June 2014

Regular readers may recognise a theme. But this is not a repeat, but a tale of another crossing of the North York Moors legend that is the Lyke Wake Walk. Our third crossing in eight months no less. As with our previous two crossings, Dave, Claire and I chose not to use a support party, carrying all our supplies as well as stashing some bottles of water on the moors for later.

For me this was the first Summer crossing, having previously done  the walk in decent to terrible Winter weather. This time around, conditions were pretty much perfect. We picked the longest day of the year, on a decent but not too hot day, after a relatively dry spell.

We set off on Friday night at abut 9:45pm from Cod Beck reservoir just outside Osmotherley. We missed out on a photo at the LWW stone as a large walking group decided to hold a meeting there before setting off on their own expedition. It wouldn't have hurt to move over and let us have the stone for a minute, but these guys weren't about to budge, and so we set off, having a good old moan right from the outset.

I have to say it was a real joy to start the walk in daylight. Not only could we see where we were going, but we were soon treated to a beautiful sunset. There aren't many occasions when Teesside gets described as attractive but this is definitely one of them.

Shortly after we were heading up the first of the Cleveland Hills, making the steep climb up to Live Moor and onto Carlton Bank. By now the light had failed and the headtorches came into action. It was fairly cool for the time of year, ideal walking conditions. We grabbed a bite to eat at the trig point of Carlton Bank before heading down and back up Cringle End.

When we passed the Lord Stones site, we could hear the merriment of people headed home after their night out, but our night was only just starting. We had an interesting moment as we headed towards the Wainstones, walking through a field of cows that were eerily silent as they watched us tramp across their patch. The Wainstones were spectacular even in the dark and this is definitely a place to explore independently of a LWW crossing.

After the Wainstones and the next hill Hasty Bank we had the long steady climb up Urra Moor over Round Hill and over to Bloworth Crossing, before getting some speed up on the railway track. We took the "new short cut", cutting onto the moors to our left over towards Ralph Cross, rather than following the track to the Lion Inn. Although we did lose the path here and there, this was definitely a good time saver. By now the sun was coming up for what promised to be a glorious day.

We stopped for some food at the foot of Fat Betty, before heading along the road to meet the boggy section....

Which was about as dry as you can get! The peat bog was bouncy, pleasant underfoot and great fun to cross. There was the occasional marshy patch and I don't think that the pond not too far from Shunner Howe will ever dry out, but this section was a real highlight of the walk as it was so easy to cross.

The dry ground continued over the road and the path up to Blue Man I' th' Moss was fine too. After Blue Man, it does get rocky making this section possibly the most challenging terrain under foot. The views open right up over towards Flyingdales, but it is a little deceptive as what looks like a fairly flat vista ahead of you hides the fact that Wheeldale is just ahead.

This deep little valley is very scenic, but hard work, with a steep climb down to the stepping stones over Wheeldale Beck. I took the opportunity to take my boots and socks off to dip my feet into the Beck and this was an amazing sensation, totally refreshing. With the sun on our faces and a nice sandwich, this was a beautiful place to stop for a breather.

But the LWW wasn't anywhere near done with us and so we made the steep ascent up to Simon Howe. In the past this has felt like a hard slog - especially when the bank up is wet and slippery, but this time it didn't hurt quite as much. When we get to Simon Howe it really feels like you are well over the halfway mark, and for me this is quite a motivator - all of a sudden the Fylingdales monster isn't a speck in the distance but right there a mile or two ahead.

A look at the clock told us that we were making excellent progress and that also meant that we would get to our pub and hostelry in good time - that's pretty much all we needed to spur us on.There were quite a few people at the layby at Fylingdales a mix of support parties and rail enthusiasts. Just over the road, for an unexplained reason there was a man asleep near the RAF boundary fence. Definitely an odd place and time for forty winks!

The newly cleared path up alongside Little Eller Beck made the section up to Lilla Cross nice and straightforward - the last thing you need when you are exhausted is to go and get lost waist deep in heather!

The dry weather also meant that the rough terrain beyond Lilla Cross was not the heavy wet nightmare that it can  be, but at this point fatigue was setting in and made this section the toughest and dullest part of the walk.

You would have thought that the steep ravine of Jugger Howe that follows would be hell but somehow I don't mind it. I love the scenery here, plus the knowledge that the end is more or less within reach makes it not feel so bad.

However once the ravine is crossed, there is some tough path and road walking to be done and at this stage I knew there were some blisters coming into play. We hit the A171 road, knowing that we only had another couple of miles to go, and that there was a nearby pub with soft beds and cold beer awaiting. Although this last section was quite a killer for myself and Claire as we had both amassed a fair old collection of blisters, it was still a celebratory climb up to the mast.

Sixteen hours and five minutes after setting off from Osmotherley we had once again completed the Lyke Wake Walk, with plans for the next crossing already hatching.

Thanks again to my long suffering partners in crime Claire and Dave. Always a winning team!

Walk To Work on the Coast To Coast

I recently heard of a walk to work week initiative, and this gave me the perfect excuse to trek a section of the coast to coast, since my office is very close to the route!

It was a simple enough walk from Richmond to Colburn, a distance of about 4 miles each way. Whilst this section of the C2C is not as spectacular as some of the others, it is pretty and has a charm of its own.

Leaving Richmond Station along the old railway path, you catch glimpses of Easby Abbey through the trees. Shortly after the C2C leaves the rail path and climbs through fields to a patch of woodland on the banks of the river Swale.

This is a lovely little woodland walk and at this time of year the scent of wild garlic was heavy in the air.

As you climb out of the woods and back into fields and farmland there are occasional glimpses across valleys deep into the Yorkshire countryside. Soon enough I reached the charming village of old Colburn and the end of my walk, only to enjoy the same route in reverse at the end of the day.

Who would have imagined that the commute to work could be so good!

Lyke Wake Walk - a guest post

Today's post comes from our esteemed walking partner and Lyke Wake Walk (LWW) veteran Dave. It is a report of a particularly arduous LWW which for reasons still unknown to me, we decided to do in January 2014, after a period of particular unpleasant weather.

Lyke Wake Walk crossing report
David Allen
January 2014
Departure: LWW stone at Ravenscar mast site, Friday 24/01/14 20:30hrs
Arrival: Sheepwash car park Osmotherley, Saturday 25/01/14 19:00hrs
Present: Claire Chapman, Tom Chapman and David Allen

This was not the first LWW crossing for any of the participants; I had previously completed the challenge on two occasions, in January 2012 and November 2013, both times taking the “traditional” west to east route.  I also have an incomplete attempt on record, with my first ever attempt curtailed at the side of the A171 with the mast at Ravenscar in clear view... my body utterly destroyed by fatigue and wear & tear, unable to tackle the final push.  Tom had also completed the challenge two times previously and this time would actually be Claire’s fifth crossing.

Driving into the Storm
After rendezvousing (is that even a word?) at the Sheepwash car park to leave Claire’s motor behind in Osmotherley, we made our way east in my car to Ravenscar.  The weather was absolutely atrocious; challenging to drive in, never mind walk 42 miles.  I began to fret.  The conditions were so bad that as we drove toward the car park at Ravenscar, we could not see the radio mast at all.
I was feeling extremely daunted at this point; hugely uncertain as to whether we should go ahead with the crossing.

Hands on the Stone
We parked up and gathered ourselves together... inside the car, in order to delay the inevitable battering at the hands of Mother Nature.  Once assembled, we briefly checked in at the LWW stone before getting on our way.
The first stretch from Ravenscar down to the main road was immediately challenging, with nightmarishly strong winds flinging hailstone horizontally into our faces.  Once again, I had serious doubts over the wisdom of persevering.
After crossing the road we made our way toward Jugger Howe, with the conditions showing no sign whatsoever of any relent.  In contrast to the usual miserable experience of Jugger Howe, this was an altogether more pleasant affair.  For one, the descent and ascent came at a time that our legs were still feeling fresh.  Furthermore, the valley actually brought momentary shelter from the blasting wind and rain.
Upon emerging from Jugger Howe the respite from the harsh conditions came to an abrupt end.  Denied any shelter, the conditions seemed to worsen, with the wind, rain and hail now complemented by a thick mist, depleting visibility to only a few feet ahead.

Where is Lilla Cross?
The path over Burn Howe Rigg seemed to take an age to conquer, wading uphill into the strong headwinds through the treacle-like clay.
Farther along, the going underfoot became a little more manageable.  One would ordinarily be able to see the cross on Lilla Howe in the distance but the darkness and foul conditions rendered this impossible.   Frustratingly, a brief check of Tom’s GPS confirmed that we had in fact missed a turning point and had to double back on ourselves to the tune of 500m or so.
Once on the correct path we eventually, quite literally, stumbled upon Lilla Cross.  With poor visibility and our eyes focussed purely on the ground immediately in front of our feet, we very nearly trudged straight past without even noticing it.

Decision Time
Lilla Cross marked something of a point of no return for me.  To this point, I just could not shake the thought of turning around and heading back to the car.  My coping mechanisms were being pushed to the limit.  The weather forecast had predicted the rain would stop around midnight, but I just could not muster any shred of hope that this would be the case.  I couldn’t take another sixteen hours of this.  I asked Claire what she thought; would we be ok?  She seemed happy enough to crack on so I resolved to push the doubts to the back of my mind and get on with it.

Negotiating Eller Beck 
From the cross we were fortunate insofar as we were able to pick up and keep to the path across Lilla Rigg toward Eller Beck.  Ironically, this section had previously proven extremely difficult to navigate in broad daylight, but at night and with terrible visibility we were able to cross it with relative ease.
It is worthy of mention that throughout this whole stretch, we were not able to see Fylingdales early warning station for as much as a single second.
Without pause we crossed the main road at Eller Beck Bridge and made our way towards the North Yorkshire Moors railway crossing.  Sadly, this brought another unplanned deviation from our route, mistakenly taking a side path off to the right, resulting in a yomp straight across the knee-high heather to reconvene with the correct path.
It was sometime around here that the rain eased off.  We stopped just before reaching the railway track to regroup and have a bite to eat.  A sausage roll, Mars bar and bottle of water and I was good to go.  For another 20 minutes or so at least...

Wheeldale's Sunken Stepping Stones
Onward to Simon Howe and over Howl Moor: this section, much like before, was characterised by abject drudgery; heads down with eyes intently fixed on the ground in front, digging deep within to muster the will to continue.  Sadly, things would get far worse before they would were to improve...
Upon arriving at Wheeldale Beck we were confronted by a rather distressing sight; the high rainfall had seen the beck replaced by a raging torrential river, substantially wider than normal, with the stepping stones nowhere to be seen.  I walked south down the bank to seek an alternative crossing point, to no avail.  Tom consulted the map and spied a footbridge to the north, past Wheeldale Lodge and Hunt House Farm; yet another deviation from the route, but at least it meant we would be able to continue without getting soaked in the freezing waters.  By my reckoning, this detour added an additional hour or so to our time.
Using Tom’s GPS (where would we be without it?) we found our way to the Roman Road and then up the bank to Wheeldale Road where we made another brief stop for a bite to eat.

The GPS Incident
Our next port of call was the crossing of Wheeldale Moor: a challenge we were hardly relishing.  The path skirting Bumble Wood proved particularly horrid, with endless rocks and boulders to avoid in the dark, adding insult to the injury of all of the mud and water underfoot.  By this point, Tom’s feet were soaked through so we made a brief stop so that he could wring out his socks.  I took the opportunity to lie back among the heather and munch a vast quantity of Jelly Babies.
On we pushed.  After another mile or so we stopped to consult the GPS when horror of horrors: It was no longer in Tom’s pocket!!!  (Note: At this point my morale was at a low. I decided to leave the camera tucked away where it was and took no pictures on this LWW crossing. The images in this post had been taken on previous crossings/ Tom) Tom and Claire retraced our steps to try to find it.  I opted to sit tight as I was beginning to struggle with fatigue and some rather nasty pain in my right knee.
I immediately began to regret my decision to stay put.  I was alone, sat among the heather in the middle of nowhere.  Tom and Claire’s headlamps vanished from sight, and all of a sudden I felt extremely spooked.  Worse still, sitting still is not a good way to keep warm.  I popped a couple of hand warmers into action, which provided all of 30 seconds of lukewarm respite, before fading into utter uselessness.  I decided to walk slowly back down the path toward Tom and Claire, extremely mindful of the risk of losing my way.  Visibility at this stage was still very poor so I was more than a little relieved to eventually see the headlamps making their way back toward me.  Sadly however, the guys had been unable to find the GPS.  This was a massive concern as it had proven to be damned near essential thus far.  However, we reasoned that the path was relatively easy to follow from this point, and that it would begin to get light very soon, so we should be okay.

Bog, Glorious Bog!
The flaws in this logic were rudely exposed when we obliviously stumbled upon the Blue Man I’ Th’ Moss on our left hand side, meaning we had strayed somewhat from the correct path.
Onward, through the bogs of White Moor...  The nagging pain in my knee was growing more and more troublesome, exacerbated by the constant repetitive lifting of the leg over stones and heather.  Those nagging doubts in my mind grew louder as time passed...
By the time we reached the road at Hamer, daylight had broken.  The pain in my knee was now almost unbearable, with any upward motion of my right leg proving extremely difficult.  Not ideal when facing another yomp through heather, marsh and bogs!  It was time for decisive action: 2 x paracetamol, 1 x codeine and 1 x diclofenac.  The results were almost instantaneous; the pain subsided and free motion was restored, partially at least.
I’d been very worried about the state of the bogs of Rosedale Moor for most of the way.  The majority of the route so far had been boggy enough, which together with the flooding of Wheeldale Beck led me to the conclusion that the notorious traditional bog stretch would be absolutely hellish.  As it turns out, I need not have worried as the terrain was not much worse than usual.  If anything, I have fared worse over these bogs in the past.
It was somewhere along this path that we happened upon three lads who were also doing the LWW, heading towards Ravenscar.  They seemed like a nice bunch so we asked them to keep their eyes peeled for Tom’s GPS along their way.  I gave one of the chaps my mobile number so that he could contact us in the (extremely doubtful) event that they might find it.

Back on Solid Ground
Upon reaching the terra firma of the main road at the end of the bogs I actually dropped to my knees and kissed the tarmac.
The walk in the general direction of the Lion Inn at Blakey seemed to take an age.  We decided to bypass the Inn and take the recently restored footpath by Flat Howe and South Flat Howe.  Considering our prior rotten luck with unplanned detours it was refreshing to redress the balance and take something of a shortcut.

Breezing it to Bloworth
Onto the long and winding disused railway track path toward Bloworth Crossing; this was the first time that I have walked this path during the daytime and the views really are rather pleasant.  The twisting path does grow a little tedious, but by this stage, in broad daylight and with the sun threatening to break from behind the clouds, we were in reasonably high spirits.
We took another rest stop on a bank of heather by the side of the path when a farmer passed on a quad-bike.  He stopped to chat in an accent that sounded more West Country than North Yorkshire.  I barely understood a word he said; a combination of my tiredness and his accent saw the exchange fly over my head.  I’m quite certain, however, that he thought we were mental.  A few steps further on I noticed said quad-bike was leaving a steady trail of two-stroke all along the path.  Nice one mate!

Time for another soaking!
Another fairly straightforward yomp, picking up with the Cleveland Way over Round Hill and Urra Moor.  The heavens opened once again around this time, much to our joy.  Fortunately the downpour didn’t last too long.  The steep steps down to the road and then up again towards the Broughton Plantation played minor havoc with my gammy knee.
The footpath along the perimeter of the Plantation was, once again, a bloody nightmare of unrelenting deep slippery horrible mud.  This was now beginning to get more than a little tiresome.
Very mindful that we were staring down the barrel of an over-20hr crossing we were keen to shave some time.  We were shattered by this point and the idea of additional climbing was not particularly appealing.

The Carlton "dodge"
Tom identified an alternative path on the map which would see us avoid the ascent of Carlton Bank, instead cutting down through adjacent woodland.  This “shortcut” was actually longer in distance than had we followed the Cleveland Way over the top, but avoiding the climb was of paramount importance to our sanity.  We eventually reconvened with the Cleveland Way where we picked up the traditional route to Osmotherley...
With one exception...  Making our way through the Coalmire Plantation we could taste the end of the ordeal.  Yet somehow, we inexplicably conspired to take a path branching away from the Cleveland Way.  In the darkness, we were unable to confirm our location on the map and without Tom’s trusty GPS, we found ourselves well and truly lost.  For a moment, anyway...  Yet another unplanned detour ensued as we made our way up a steep track in the futile hope that we were on the correct path.  Sadly, we were not.  We made our way back to our deviation point to recapture our bearings when we realised that we had turned from the track no more than 50 meters from a point where the correct route would have been abundantly clear.  This latest and final blip was a massive kick in the teeth as we were all feeling immense strain by this point.
A final push up those agonisingly steep steps out of the woods was just about the final act of exertion I could muster, and the final walk along the roadside toward Scarth Wood Moor felt ten miles long.  We were so tired upon arriving that not a single member of our group could muster the motivation to touch in with the LWW stone.  We got back to the car around 7pm – some twenty two and a half hours after departing from Ravenscar!

Osmotherley - the Aftermath
We spent the evening in the Golden Lion in Osmotherley and enjoyed the obligatory deconstruction of the events of the previous 24 hours.  Unfortunately, I grew a little green at the gills and was a little “poorly” after a mere half a pint of ale!  No matter, a switch to soft drinks and a bellyful of burger, fries and sticky toffee pudding had me feeling as right as rain (no pun intended) in no time.
So that was it...  Another LWW under our collective belt.  It felt very strange to complete the walk without once seeing the mast at Ravenscar or the early warning station at Fylingdales – usually fairly constant views on the horizon for long stretches of the walk.  Bewilderingly, I did not pick up as much as a sore toe, let alone the usual crop of savage blisters.  I attribute this to the Meindl boots that kept my feet supported, comfortable and bone-dry throughout.  Honorary mention must also go to the effectiveness of my (very cheap) waterproofs; both trousers and jacket were of the bargain bin pac-a-mac variety and for the most part managed to keep me dry, even in the face of the occasionally brutal weather conditions.
There is not a lot of humorous anecdote in this account; there was precious little to laugh at.  The low points on this occasion far outnumbered the high.  The conditions made this one of the most gruelling physical challenges of my life, and not a one that I am keen to repeat.  It will be quite some time before I tackle another January LWW crossing.  At least not for another 11 months or so...

Epilogue
I received a text message late on the Saturday evening from a lad called Joe, one of the group that we’d bumped into heading in the opposite direction on the walk.  They had found Tom’s GPS!  So Tom was reunited with his trusty friend the very next day, proving that all’s well that ends well.  If you find yourself reading this – thanks Joe!!!

Another Winter Lyke Wake Crossing

And once again the North Yorks odyssey that is the Lyke Wake Walk had drawn us in. This was  my second attempt - the first time ended with me quite clearly thinking (if it’s possible to think clearly after a straight walk through the night for nineteen hours) “never again”! That thought only lasted on night and I remember at breakfast in the bed and breakfast in beautiful Rosedale the next morning how we already started planning the next crossing.

That actually took longer than anticipated, and so a year and a half later, Claire, Dave and myself were joined by Lyke Wake Walk newcomer Jimmy.This time around we were doing the walk without a support vehicle – no-one waiting at strategic spots to cheer us on and welcome us with hot drinks and food. More importantly no chance to bail - once we had set off from Osmotherley, that was it, no turning back.

We met up at the mast in Ravenscar, as we needed to leave a car there. Dave and Jimmy had spent the afternoon driving round the moors, dropping off bags of food and drink on the way so we wouldn’t have to carry too much. At 9:40 pm, we were back at Osmotherley, hands on the Lyke Wake stone for a quick photo, before setting off. And once again it begins...

As with my previous crossing a Winter crossing is bitterly cold, and the first mile was actually really tough going, attempting to walk on slippery asphalt that was like an ice rink. It was good to get off the road and into the countyside proper. For me, this is the moment when the Lyke Wake Walk really comes into its own, as you trudge along through the pitch black with a couple of head torches lighting the way. On some stretches on the moors, we all turned the lights off and could easily navigate my moonlight and this was quite a magical moment.

The next few miles use good woodland paths and cross a couple of fields. Previously we were accompanied by ghostly sheep in these fields but they seem to have been tucked up somewhere warmer on this cold night.

You then the higher ground of the Cleveland Hills, on the long haul up and over Carlton Bank. From here you have a spectacular view of the lights of Middlesbrough down to the north of you, and the sprawling hills around you.

By now we had settled into a decent walking pace, passing the newly opened (but at this time of night very much shut) Lord Stones Cafe and the night was still very much magical. By the time we hit the railway path and Bloworth Crossing we were going at some speed, and it meant that this section flew by and before we knew it, we could see the Lion Inn not far ahead. Here was our first food stash, and Dave and Jimmy had done us proud, providing with a gourmet feast. Home-made cookies, sandwiches, pasties, bananas and bottled water which miraculously had not frozen.

After this break I was nearly frozen solid and it was time to break out the hand-warmers to try and warm up a little as we headed off along road headed away from the Lion. Soon enough we had passed the sign for Fryup and it was time for the dreaded bog section. Except this time, the bog pretty much stretched from here all the way to Ravenscar as it was muddy all the way.

I maintain that the infamous bog isn't as bad as the next section - the bog you anticipate, but for me the next section past Blue Man I'Th' Moss is just as bad, and twice as long!

After a very long trudge, we had slowed right down, but that was to be expected. Eventually we reached the road at Wheeldale, and then headed down into the ravine. Normally we would use the stepping stones to cross the beck, but after recent heavy rains these were underwater and there was no real way of telling how slippery they would be. We weren't keen on completing the walk soaking wet and ice cold, so we walked upstream a little until we found a section we could just about jump across. Jimmy and Dave were once again the heroes here, going over first and helping me and Claire.

Simon Howe was next, and a brisk climb up from the beck was actually enjoyable for me, as it helped me warm up a little. By this point Dave and Jimmy were both suffering a little from bad knees, which is never pleasant. From Simon Howe, the early warning installation at Flyingdales no longer seemed so far away but even here the ground was decidedly boggy underfoot. We watched a train pass by as we reached the North Yorks Railway track, and at this point, we were still very much full of food and laden down with drink, so we left the food drop here intact and picked it up the next day when driving back.

I had been dreading the next section, as the walk along Eller Beck up to Lilla Cross last time was a bit of a nightmare with no discernible path, and a lot of streams to jump across. However this time, the direct footpath has been cleared and is easy to follow which we were very pleased about.

Once we had got up to Lilla Cross we could finally see the mast at Ravenscar. Once again, it seemed incredibly far away and at this point I could see some of our party getting a bit disheartened. I took a slurp of Claire's rather disgusting energy gel and off I went. This was the worst section for me as far as the path was concerned. Thick heavy, wet clay that stuck to your boots like glue and made for heavy going. This is also the point where two miles on the map feel like five miles on the ground - the section to Jugger Howe just feels endless!

Claire was really not looking forward to Jugger Howe, but although I had suffered a bit on the last few miles, Jugger Howe didn't phase me. I love the view as you go down the steep steps, cross the footbridge and back up the other side, knowing that the end is so near.

And yet so far. It's back on the metalled track across Stony Marl Moor rather than soft or boggy ground and this is a killer on the feet! The very last section is another that feels longer than it ought to. However this time round, finishing in daylight was a massive boost to the morale, as you could see the mast getting closer and closer, instead of the dull trudge it is in the dark with nothing there to motivate.

The sun was setting and by the time we reached the mast, the moors behind us looked beautiful and inviting. Beyond the mast we could see the vast expanse of the North Sea, and it was joy all round as we completed the walk at Ravenscar, exactly 18 hours after setting off from Osmotherley.

So that was it, LWW crossing number two completed for me. It felt a lot easier than the first time round. I think this was largely due to knowing what I was facing and being mentally prepared for the duration of each section and the challenges ahead.

Completing the Lyke Wake Walk gives you a real sense of achievement. It isn't impossible, nor is it the sole reserve of extreme walkers, but it does require some planning, patience, determination and a will to complete it. I admire anyone that attempts the walk.

We stayed the night in the excellent Flask Inn on the Whitby road, with its super comfortable beds, and cosy bar. Once again, we had some folk saying "never again" in the bar that evening, and by the next morning plans for the next crossing were being made. The Lyke Wake Walk just gets under your skin.