The New Lyke Wake Club
A Family Tradition – Heloise and Claire
I would like to register myself and my friend’s Lyke Wake Walk completion date and time with yourselves.
Heloise Fowler and Claire Morton.
We started it on 20th June 2026 at 09.09am and finished on 21st June 2026 at 08.04am, a time of 22hrs 55mins.
I thought it would be a lovely date due to the Summer Solstice and Father’s Day. My father Ian Milsom (Son of John Milsom – Fylingthorpe Ships in Bottles) sadly passed away earlier this year, and has completed the Lyke Wake Walk five times as a Cub Scout leader. I really hope you have him registered in your archives. Fingers crossed anyway. I thought this would be a good challenge to do in his memory.
I’ve written a little report below for you all to read and a few photos too. I hope you enjoy the read.
Over the weekend for Summer Solstice and Father’s Day, myself and my amazing friend Claire Morton decided to walk the LYKE WAKE WALK Challenge. 40 miles within 24 hours across the North York Moors from Osmotherley to Ravenscar in memory of our wonderful Dads. My Dad did this 5 TIMES! I mean wow, it was very hard and hats off to him for doing it! I visited his final resting place afterwards in Robin Hoods Bay and just said ‘I can’t believe you did that more than once!’
The actual terrain was stunning and it was a gorgeous day. The Cleveland Hills were hard but beautiful and loads of people about. We also came across baby grouse on the way to the Lion Inn, where we chilled and prepared for the night time section, obviously with shandy and chips lol. Essentials.
The next section after leaving the Coast to Coast Path, we then had pure moorland and could see RAF Fylingdales in the distance. The terrain was a mixture of hard and soft worn footpaths and bogs. The heather was just starting to come out and there were stunning cotton plants in the waters around us. The Curlews were also nesting, and we got told off by them for walking the trail. The sunset was glorious and we could see for miles, I also loved that the sun never really went down, there was a faint glow in the horizon which was really special. At about 1.30am we just sat on a rock, turned off our head torches and looked up at the night sky which was absolutely spectacular. We could see the space station too, another truly special moment. We were greeted with a dawn chorus at about 2.30am and at about 3am the sun started to rise again, where we had a gorgeous sunrise.
Across the last 10km we had a mixture of sea fret and sun and came across Lilla Cross and lots of walkers and runners doing ultra marathons.The last hill was a slog and we were truly worn out by the last few kms. But it was so worth it and I’m so proud we completed it.
It’s definitely a challenge though. We completed it in 22hrs 55mins in the end and that included all the stops and shandy at Blakey Ridge, Lion Inn.
I went and lit a candle for my Dad in Bay afterwards and sat by his grave for a while telling him all about it.
A wonderful unforgettable experience
Thankyou again for all you do.
Kind Regards
Heloise Fowler nee Milsom
A Great Plan – Karen and Carl Murphy
Karen once said, “I’ve got a great plan,
Let’s walk the Lyke Wake—come on, Carl, you can!”
Carl looked confused and scratched his head,
“Forty miles walking? I’d rather be in bed!”
But Karen was certain, she’d made up her mind,
“Think of the adventure and views we will find!”
At 4 a.m. the taxi came,
To take them to the start of the Lyke Wake fame.
The driver looked shocked as they climbed inside,
“Forty odd miles walking?” he said, looking wide-eyed.
“Forty point two-eight miles you plan to do?
Are you sure there isn’t a shorter route for you?”
He shook his head and stared in surprise,
“That’s some walk you’ve got ahead,” he said with wide eyes.
Karen just smiled and said, “We’ll be alright,
We’re ready for hills from morning till night.”
Carl gave a grin and adjusted his pack,
“Too late to turn round, there’s no going back!’
With protein bars packed and spirits so bright,
They headed for the moors in the morning light.
Unsupported they walked, with all gear on their back,
No helping hand waiting along on the track.
The sun turned up with a scorching display,
A red-hot monster of a summer’s day.
The hills felt endless, the miles felt long,
But they kept each other cheerful and strong.
Then Karen cried out, “What’s that I can see?
A snake on the path staring back at me!”
She nearly stood on it, what a fright,
The snake probably thought, “I’m quitting this hike tonight!”
Carl said, “Keep moving, we’ve come too far,
We’re not being beaten by a snake on the path where we are!”
Through heather and bog, they battled the way,
Sweating and laughing throughout the day.
Fourteen and a half hours later they cheered,
The end of the challenge finally appeared.
Forty point two-eight miles were complete,
Though their legs were begging for a comfy seat.
Their feet said, “Enough, we’re finished today!”
Their knees replied, “We’re walking away!”
To Grand Villa Heights they slowly went,
Where every last bit of energy was spent.
A shower and a bed felt wonderfully right,
After conquering the moors from morning till night.
So here’s to Karen and Carl’s amazing feat,
Two stubborn walkers who wouldn’t retreat.
They faced the heat, the hills and the snake,
And conquered the mighty old Lyke Wake.
So next time Karen says, “I’ve got a great idea,”
Carl might check the distance and disappear!
But deep down he knows, whatever they do,
There’s no better adventure than one shared by two!
Karen & Carl Murphy – 8th July 2026
Coconut Water and Local Ale – Indy
Hi, I’m Indranath a Sri Lankan completed the walk yesterday! Happy to share my experience with club members.
Report on the Completion of the Lyke Wake Walk
Date of Walk: 1 July
On 1 July, I completed the Lyke Wake Walk as an unplanned solo challenge across the North York Moors. The day began with the earliest train from Huddersfield to Northallerton, followed by a bus to Osmotherley.
I started the walk from the Osmotherley bus stop at 08:40. Conditions during the first half of the route were excellent—warm, dry, and ideal for walking. But costs me litre of coconut water which was my only fluid source. Most of the normally boggy sections had dried out, and even my white walking shoes remained in surprisingly good condition.
I reached the Lion Inn at 14:20, where I stopped for a well-earned break. A pint of local ale (the name escapes me) and half litre of water helped replenish my energy before continuing at 14:40. While I may have forgotten the name of the ale, I will never forget the distinctive smell of the peaty moorland, which is one of the lasting memories of the walk.
The second half of the journey brought a change in the weather. Continuous light drizzle, accompanied by a refreshing evening breeze, persisted for the final 20 km. Rather than making the walk more difficult, these conditions helped keep me cool, reduced the risk of exhaustion, and slowed my water consumption.I reached Flyingdales at 21:02, only to realise there were still around two miles remaining to the official finish. My original plan had been to catch the 93X bus to Scarborough and then the last train back to Huddersfield. However, with the time and distance remaining, I changed my plans and looked for accommodation near Ravenscar. Fortunately, I was able to secure a room at the Grand Villa.
I reached the official finish at the Lyke Wake Walk radio beacon at 21:47, completing the route in 13 hours and 7 minutes. I managed to take the traditional finish photograph in the last remaining daylight, providing a fitting end to a memorable day.
Looking back, I would recommend early July as an excellent time to attempt the Lyke Wake Walk. The combination of dry ground, comfortable temperatures, and long daylight hours made for favourable conditions. Walkers should nevertheless carry plenty of fluids, as the route is remote and physically demanding, with limited opportunities to refill water.
Completing the Lyke Wake Walk alone was a challenging but immensely rewarding experience. It required endurance, careful pacing, and adaptability when plans changed. The sense of achievement on reaching the radio beacon after more than thirteen hours on the moors made every mile worthwhile.
Best regards
Indy
Dodging Midges – Dave and Patric
Hello,
I’d like to report a crossing by myself and my good friend Patric, this is our first Lyke Wake Walk completing the walk in 16 hours 47 minutes including breaks on (20/06/2026).
We started at the Osmotherly stone at 4:05am, the sun was just rising with a fair bit of cloud cover, we made steady progress over the first sections with the warning of a heatwave on our minds, luckily a cloudy start to Saturday morning gave us some relief and the heat wasn’t too bad. Once we had hit the old railway line to the Lion pub, the sun came out and things started to heat up although a light breeze was a welcome feature to the walk. The boggy sections were still quite boggy in places and with some “re-wetting” projects going on this too made things a little damp under foot at times. On our way to Flylingdales we were fortunate to see the steam train heading to Pickering and an adder on the path (which I have never seen before).
At times when the breeze stopped, the temperature increased and we were plagued by midges which spurred our pace on to try to leave the midges behind (not entirely sure how successful that plan was!). The last section seems to take an age with Ravenscar mast never getting any closer while traversing through the burnt areas of last years wildfires. With the master in what seemed touching distance we decided to have a sprint finish with whatever energy we had left to the finishing stone. We both had a very enjoyable time, and are looking forward to organising our next crossing in the future!
Best regards
Dave
An Epic First – Becky and Emma
It is with deep sorrow that we report a successful crossing on Monday May 25, in 15 hours and 50 minutes.
Sisters Emma and Becky Furness successfully completed their first crossing in the traditional East to West direction, ably supported by Becky’s husband, Paul, as support crew.
Our woe began days before our walk as the weather forecast began to predict hellishly hot conditions and we debated the sense in committing ourselves to 15+ hours of trudging over the wild moors in 30 degree heat with little chance of shade. We arrived in Osmotherly determined to attempt the crossing with three objectives: 1) remain mostly not dead, 2) have fun, 3) complete the crossing (in that order of priority) We left a message in the sign in book, outlining our intent, in case we didn’t make it back.
At 4.13am, in the soft glow of dawn, we solemnly departed the Lyke Wake Stone with only some suspicious sheep and distant cuckoo for company, the temperature already a fresh 11 degrees.
The early miles following the well-marked Cleveland Way, following in the footsteps of our Grandad some 40 years before, felt uncannily easy. As undulating woodland gave way to hills and heather we wistfully took in the views of the coast a little way off to the north. We carried on with a respectful degree of cheer, tackling the steep ups and downs and laughing in the face of death during our first ever scramble up and over the Wainstones.
Our first support stop was at Clay Bank at around 8.30, where Paul walked out to meet us before returning us back to the car for a welcome breakfast buffet. The temperature from the car display told us it was now 21.5 centigrade, so we smeared ourselves with sunscreen and donned our hats and long sleeves, preparing ourselves for the long section ahead.
As we climbed up Carr Ridge from Clay Bank the grouse warned us to ‘Go Back, Go Back, Go back!’. We did not heed the warning, and after a little while we thought the heat might already be getting to us as the rocks on the path ahead appeared to moving in the heat haze, but happily it was only tiny fluffy grouse chicks, scrambling over the heather, with mum and dad scooting close by.
This section was incredibly good underfoot and the going was good, we passed a pond and performed a daring rescue of a butterfly that had landed in the water. We noticed the pond was chock full of tadpoles – all respectfully in black, of course.
We then hit the railway section which whilst easy underfoot felt unending and in sections where the embankment rose on both sides the heat was oppressive out of the breeze. We solemnly vowed not to ask what the temperature was again; it was better not to know.
Finally the roof of the Lion Inn came into view and this spurred us on with the promise of a cold drink and shade! (This was quite possibly the most delicious and refreshing pint of bitter shandy ever quaffed) Paul met us, and cheerily announced ‘it’s 28 degrees out there!’ We whimpered, fortified ourselves with pork pies reheated on the roof of the car, and bravely continued.
Thankfully, the bog section, due to the oven-like temperatures, presented only mild challenges and offered an excellent showcase of some super conservation work. We experienced slight confusion caused by the number of waymarkers which have sadly met their end and lie as they fell: gone too soon.
We had not appreciated that the boggy bit was followed by a bit more bog, and then a horrible stony path, seemingly designed to produce a sense of humour failure by being depressingly uneven underfoot and too narrow to allow for the use of poles to steady ourselves. We were however, heartened to find that there was not a single raven at the Raven Stones, which we took as a sign that hope remained that we would succeed in our exertions. Not all was exactly well though, as our feet were starting to bother us a little and we both discovered that we’d acquired quite an extensive sweat rash just below the tops of our socks, and our underwear began, unfathomably, to chafe! Misery indeed.
We were grateful to see Paul at Eller beck Bridge, and he us – he had been struggling to keep cool without shade whilst awaiting our arrival, and had at one point noticed the car which he was sheltering in recorded a hellishly hot 44 degrees. Shortly after leaving Eller Beck came one of the walk’s high points – possibly not literally – as a beautiful little adder deigned to show itself, then treat us to some fine swearing in snake, before retreating into the grass to us to resume allow our mournful progress. Another brush with almost certain(ish) death.
Moving off from Lilla Cross one of the party began to feel an overwhelming urge for a very different kind of passing, yet struggled onwards for many a mile with Yorkshire grit and a clenched… jaw. Upon reaching the edge of Jugger Howe ravine all sensations suddenly and miraculously ceased – perhaps it was only a ghostly visitation from a lonely spirit of the moors. If this is what attempted possession feels like, we shall add holy water to our packs next time.
With some words of encouragement from Paul, and the promise of a hot buffet at the reception, we were given our final send-off up the hill to the beacon. In the fading light we set off, determinedly, feet miraculously rejuvenated with a change of boots, towards the mast. The tales were true, this feels like a mirage which you may never reach, but under a bright moon we covered the ground and at 10:20 we reached the Lyke Wake Stone. Here we coaxed our beleaguered knees to bend and mustered a smile (of relief) for an essential picture. It was still 18 degrees when we folded our still limbs into the car for the journey back to our digs in Osmotherley.
We staggered back to the sign in book on Tuesday to add a note to say that we had survived our ordeal. Having been described as weird on more than one occasion, it is lovely to now have a badge to prove it!
Emma & Becky Furness
Walking time: 15hrs 50mins
Actual crossing time: 18hrs 07 mins
Total distance: 39.2 miles
Couple of Condolences : Kate Marriott and Joseph Dendle
While Chernobyl spat its nuclear spray,
My own father walked this way.
Forty years passed and here I stand,
Ready to cross this northern land.
He left me tales of bog and stone,
of wind that leaves a man alone.
So I came armed with guidebook page,
and stories passed from age to age.
We came as couple, new and small,
less than six months in love at all.
And if the moor we could complete,
then perhaps our love, life could not defeat.
But things went wrong from the beginning,
The starting stone seemed to be missing.
A kilometre we walked, which felt quite far,
To find the stone just 10 meters from the car.
The forecast promised calmer skies,
the weather witches told their lies.
They said the day would stay warm and fair,
but rain soon came slanting through the air.
Now one of us has earned the name,
the ‘Witch’ her title and her fame.
So we ask with half a smirk,
which witch is better at her work?
The weather witch who reads the sky,
or she who crossed the heather high?
Soon the railway gave us faster pace,
flat and smooth we jogged our race,
A flatter track, a freer run,
a stretch of miles more quickly done.
Though we were unsupported and self-sustained,
a Red Lion pit stop briefly was gained.
The porcelain throne had called our sphincter,
definitely not one that made a picture.
Then bog arrived without a sound,
and dragged us knee-deep in the ground.
For days thereafter, stained with peat,
our peasant feet looked rough and beat.
We crossed beneath the radar’s gaze,
at Flyingdales’ unseen ways.
Yet though the sky had eyes above,
below we found no path to love.
The heather rose up, purple and deep,
By this point we just wanted sleep.
We were not lost from radar’s view,
but lost in all we walked into.
At Lilla Cross we saw with delight,
The final mast had come in sight.
But hours passed and though closer we came,
that bloody mast had moved again.
Then burned land came, ash and bone,
a moor reduced to broken stone.
The wind picked up the burnt remains,
and filled our eyes with grit and pains.
No guidebook spoke of this at all,
no father’s tale recalled its fall.
Just stripped-back earth and drifting air,
and nothing there was soft or fair.
In final miles a man and dog,
appeared through mist and shifting fog.
My father came in quiet grace,
to meet us near the ending place.
He offered help to ease the load,
but we kept our packs, we kept our road.
Though weight was pressed on aching frame,
we bore it still, and did not change.
Like at the start we had been wrong,
We found the ending stone was gone,
A trig point stood where we first thought,
the final stone we might have caught.
But we soon then found the proper end,
where stones and story both transcend.
We closed what once had first begun,
fourteen and a half hours ago, under sun.
One path once walked by father’s feet,
returned again through wind and peat.
The moor could test, but did not break,
what six short months had dared to make.
A Witch and Dirger, from now we’re known,
And we’ll walk together, wherever we roam.
With deepest sympathy,
Joseph and Kate
Self-Condolences: Andrew Kidd
Lyke Wake Walk 15 June 2026
Dirger: Andrew Kidd (supported by Jewell Kidd and Tilly Kidd, with Tilly joining for the last 15 miles)
Date: 15 June 2026, start 4.46am from LWW start/finish stone at Cod Beck Reservoir, finish 1.12am LWW start/finish stone near beacon at Ravenscar.
Walking time: 16hrs 37mins
Actual crossing time: 20hrs 26mins
Total distance: 39.1 miles, 63 km
My teenage self offers my deepest condolences to my 65 year old self. As a lad growing up in Newcastle, a good number of my school mates were doing the LWW. It was his idea and it took me a while to get around to it. Glad I did.
I had decided to go for it mid 2025 but realised I needed to get fitter and yet wanted to do it mid summer, for the longer day length. The time was well spent training up and preparing, including getting new inserts from my podiatrist and finding a better pair of boots (leading to no blisters!). My research suggested merino wool underlayers may help avoid chaffing and indeed they did. I took trekking poles which were very useful for some parts in particular and I, surprisingly, used them almost throughout the walk.
We had a cottage in Osmotherley for a week and I was hoping for one day that had better weather. Monday 15 June was the day. Mainly cloudy, some sun, a little headwind in parts, and only a sprinkle of rain towards the end.
The route essentially followed that suggested by Brian Smailes, with only a couple of minor accidental detours. I had plotted the route on plotaroute and downloaded the gpx file to Guru Maps app which really helped at a couple of uncertain moments.
I went to bed 8pm the night before and slept surprisingly well, getting up at 4am. I was so grateful to have Jewell and Tilly at the checkpoints. Tilly’s partner Dan is an extreme challenge nutritionist, fortunately. His advice was useful to ensure the prep of loading up with white rice etc for 24-36 hours before and having a white bread jam sandwich, a bottle of lucozade, a banana at most checkpoints, plus 30 grams of sugar each hour in between checkpoints (basically 9 jelly babies or equivalent). I stayed pretty well hydrated along the way also, I think.
It was great to have Tilly join me for the last three legs. It was getting dark towards the end of the second to last leg when we entered the “surprise” ravine at Jugger Howe. Half way down we somehow (my fault) went right instead of left and had to climb through undergrowth and bog along the bank to find the stepping stones. That leg took us about twice what would have been expected timewise. But we saw a couple of glow-worms which brought delight and added a bit of energy. Indeed, the wildlife, the birdlife and the views were amazing.
Tilly worked up a playlist for the last 2 mile leg which she described as the “lap of honour” leg. So, in the pitch black though headtorched, we sang along to such delights as “and I would walk 500 miles” and “these boots were made for walking” etc.. That helped the grind at the end.
Pretty stiff in the ankles the next day but managed to recover in time for a weekend at Tynedale Rugby 7s and Beer Festival. A perfect end.
Detailed Stats:
Andrew Kidd, supported by Jewell Kidd and Tilly Kidd
Start 4.46am, Finish 1.12am. Total time 20h 26mins.
Distance: 62.96km, 39.1 miles. Total gain 1,345m, Min elev 173m, Max elev 506m
Steps: 101,386
Calories estimate: 4,500
Time walking: 16h 37mins (ave pace 16:07 mins per km, max 11:14 mins per km)
Splits: fastest 12:26mins, slowest 28:51mins
Time resting: 3h 49mins
Time resting at checkpoints: 2h 12mins
Time resting between checkpoints: 1h 37mins
To checkpoint 1: 6 miles in 2h 32mins (deviation from Brian Smailes Guidebook +32mins) – break 19 mins
To checkpoint 2: 4 miles in 1h 58mins (deviation +28mins) – break 17 mins
To checkpoint 3: 9.5 miles in 3h 57mins (deviation +52 mins) – break 30 mins
To checkpoint 4: 5 miles in 2h 6mins (deviation +6mins) – break 32 mins
To checkpoint 5: 8.5 miles in 3h 37mins (deviation +37mins) – break 16 mins
To checkpoint 6: 5 miles in 3h 12mins (deviation +1h 32mins) – break 18 mins
To finish: 2 miles in 52mins (deviation +22mins)
Regards, Andrew Kidd
Three Crossings, One Frog, and a Man Who Should Have Known Better
Or: how to fail to learn a lesson over the course of five years.
My relationship with the Lyke Wake Walk began, as all the best disasters do, over a drink. A colleague asked whether I “fancied joining a group doing a walk in the North York Moors.” I said yes, because at that point I still believed words like walk and moors to be reassuring. This was June 2018.
The crossing was completed in fifteen hours. My dignity was not completed at all. By the time we reached the youth hostel in Whitby, my legs had filed for divorce, and I was reduced to descending the stairs backwards, heel first, like a man abseiling without rope or competence. I vowed, with the conviction of the truly broken, never to do it again.
The Walk, you understand, is named for the watching-over of corpses. I had assumed this was metaphorical. It is not.
Act II — The Memory of a Goldfish
Five years, it turns out, is precisely how long it takes me to forget pain. In June 2023 I not only agreed to cross again, I organised it. Ten brave souls signed up. Three turned up. One of those three gave up at the ten-mile mark — which, by my arithmetic, gives the Walk a 70% attrition rate before anyone’s even had a properly bad time. The survivors crossed in eighteen hours. The dirge sings to people, it seems, before they’ve finished lacing their boots.
Act III — The Foolish Boast
I manage a junior team at Dinnington RUFC. During a perfectly innocent discussion about fundraising, a parent suggested the Lyke Wake Walk and kindly began explaining what it was. Rather than confess that I had already limped across it twice while questioning my life choices, I said — and I cannot overstate how foolish this was — “Oh, I know the route.”
And so, crossing number three. The 12th of June, six of us departing Cod Beck Reservoir at 19:00: Johnny (my long-suffering LWW companion, and the only man who keeps coming back — which says something about us both), Ellie, Anne, Ange and Mikey.
The first ten miles went suspiciously well. Then one of the group began to shriek — a sound of such pure, undiluted terror that it must surely have carried as far as Middlesbrough. I braced for the worst: a body in the heather, the Hound of the Baskervilles, the Grim Reaper arriving early to collect.
It was a frog. Sitting in the middle of the path. Minding its own amphibian business.
Reader, I was unaware that Ellie suffered from ranidaphobia. Note to self: all future pre-walk questionnaires must screen for this, alongside the standard checks for ambulophobia, agoraphobia, and completion anxiety. On a route named after the dead, it was — fittingly — the one living thing that nearly finished us off.
The frog, it turned out, was the easy part.
The Long Dark Bog of the Soul
At twenty miles the maths arrived, and the maths is cruel. Someone did the sum out loud — “hang on, are we only half way?” — and you could feel the morale leave the group like air from a slow puncture. Forty miles is a number you can say cheerfully in a pub. It is a different number entirely at one in the morning with a bog where your feet used to be.
By Rosedale Moor the group had nothing left. The bogs had taken their toll — and at least one casualty was permanent, Ange parting with two toenails for the privilege of crossing. Honestly, the Lyke Wake Club should issue them as commemorative pin badges.
The wind was doing its best to relocate us to the Irish Sea, so I made a Leadership Decision. “Let’s not rest here,” I said, with the easy confidence of a man pointing at a map. “Wheeldale plantation gives some shelter, and it’s not far.” Friends, not far on the map and not far in the heather at 2am are not the same distance. They are not even the same unit of measurement. Two hours later we collapsed into the heather at the plantation and were granted a fifteen-minute power nap — generously soundtracked by Mikey and Johnny snoring like a brass section warming up.
The Mast That Lied
Onward to Fylingdales Moor, where I made my second great error of the walk. I pointed out a mast on the horizon and announced that it marked the finish. This was meant to inspire. (For the record, I have since established it was an unidentified transmitter mast near Ravenscar — radio, probably — and not, as I’d implied with great authority at 4am, the literal end of our suffering.)
It did inspire, for roughly four minutes. Then the mast became the group’s entire universe — and the trouble with a distant mast is that it has the manners not to get any closer. We walked for what felt like hours. The mast did not move. One of the group began a steady chant of how far, how long, which gradually simplified into a single word, directed at me, repeated with the patience of a metronome: “liar.” Over. And over. I have been called many things on the moors. That night I learned which ones stick.
We Buried Them at Last
And yet — we crossed. All six of us limped over the finish on the Saturday at 15:15: twenty hours and fifteen minutes, fully unsupported, every gram of it carried on our own backs. Slower than my fifteen-hour first crossing and my eighteen-hour second, which I choose to read not as evidence of decline but as proof I’m savouring the place more each time. For a group that had been emotionally bested by an amphibian and a transmitter mast, I’ll take it. Bill Cowley would, I hope, have nodded grimly and bought a round.
The whole undertaking was in aid of the Dinnington RUFC Under-14s, who train hard, play harder, and remain blissfully unaware of the suffering committed in their name. If you’d like to make two lost toenails and one shattered friendship feel worthwhile, the lads would be very grateful: https://gofund.me/21ac3cf06. Every pound buys a small piece of dignity I will personally never recover.
Would I do it again? Absolutely not. Ask me again in five years.
Paint Brushes and Cold Pints – Alex Williams
Good afternoon,
I’m happy to report I would like to report my first crossing.
Just before midnight on Friday 5th June 2026 45 walkers set off from the start point in Osmotherley. Things started steadily with lots of talk around the selection of sweet goods we’d all brought along with us. Initially me and a friend, Harry, stuck together, moving through the first check point at the cottages near Heathwaite swiftly.
As we moved over the moors on the next section we split off into different groups. At the aid stop at Clay bank another new group was formed, on the climb leaving Clay bank sadly one team member dropped out leaving 4 in our team, myself, Rob, Ben and Mike. Mike was complaining of a stone in his boot and we managed to convince him to check on it before moving any further. Mike removed his boot, turned it upside down and with a gentle shake a metallic object fell out. Ben picked it up and said it looked like a makeup brush. Mike looked and explained it was the head of a kids paint brush and his kids had been painting before we left. He gave his boot another tap and out came the 6” brush handle!
From here our little team stuck together and made good progress, sadly avoiding The Lion Inn at Blakey for a stop at Ralphs Cross where our support team was waiting with hot drinks and hot sausage buns!
Carrying on from Blakey we headed onto the ‘boggy section’ which thankfully wasn’t as bad as we had all built it up to be in our heads! Steady progress was made on the crossing over the moor top keeping our heads down and battling on Wheeldale road. Due to a medical issue with a member of the larger group behind us this would be the last time we would see our bags of extra kit which was on the bus before the finish line.
Spirits were still high until coming over Fylingdales where around 35 miles in we were met with driving rain being blown at 20-30 mph. This quickly penetrated our waterproofs which up until then had put in a very good shift. Thankfully with the end in sight we kept moving and picked up a packet of hobnobs at our final aid station 1.5 miles from the end.
Our team completed the walk in just over 15 hours and enjoyed a well earned pint in the Flask Inn to celebrate!
Kind Regards,
Alex
The Return Crossing – Walk 11 Graeme Noble
General Information:
Date & Start: Friday 15 May 2026, starting time [from the LWW stone at Ravenscar 9.50am] – Saturday 16 May 7.27pm at the LWW stone near Cod Beck Reservoir at Osmotherley. An east to west crossing.
Walking time: 18.28.
Actual crossing time 33hrs 28mins (36hrs allotted time as a Sexagenarian of 65+ yrs of age)
Total Walking Distance: 43.7 miles
Dirger: Graeme Noble (solo walk)
Weather – heavy and strong gales gradually settling down to full sun with a very slight breeze with some warmth in the air over the two days.
This was a cracking good walk (Gromit). On Friday 15th May 2026 Gerry and Julie picked me up from the Falcon Inn and deposited me at the LWW starting point at Ravenscar. To say the wind was overtly blustery would be an understatement. After the ritual of saying goodbyes, and the lament held in the wind, I began the return route to Armageddon Osmotherley. The walk itself across to Rosedale Farm Inn at Rosedale Abbey posed few problems and there was a genuine sadness at walking through Jugger Howe to see the damage done by last year’s fires on this part of the North Yorkshire Moors. The burned fence above Jugger Howe Beck walk (Lilla Howe side of the ravine), summarised in my mind – total devastation – the damage caused when I walked across here last year when the moors were closed for access.
The previous day I had called in a fire above Egton, which had come onto my radar walking across the duck ponds towards Beck Hole – there had been a lot of smoke drifting about, and I hoped on seeing the devastation on this section of the moors that this year wouldn’t see a repeat of last year. The landscape on this section across to Lilla Cross remains the same. Lilla Howe stands proud and Ellerbeck was remarkably dry. A little wet here and there, but nothing like the bogginess of four years ago. Global warming? There didn’t seem to be any trains running on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway and I sat having a sandwich just off the tracks before heading on my way to Hamer House.
Gerry had suggested a visit there on this crossing earlier in the year. Cutting across Simon Howe produced a little more wetness on the path to Wheeldale Stepping Stones and walking across the Roman Cists to Wheeldale Moor. I took the lower path here (close to the Booth Stone) and followed the track to its end and then followed the footpath sign which is about two miles east of Blue Man-i’-th’-Moss to rejoin the ‘Raven Stones’ path across the moor. It is a fast track for moving across. Recommended. Then Hamer House – there’s nothing left there apart from greened ruins and a few out houses on the other side of the road.
Hamer Beck was flowing fairly quickly, and while it comes to memory there are a lot of new dams over White Moor on the footpath following the ‘Blue Man’, which Gerry thinks are connected to an attempt to regenerate the dried peat which sits on either side of the path. Then what followed was a rather quick walk through to Rosedale after a steep hill climb and an evening meal with Gerry, Julie and Kathleen (one of the witnesses at my wedding 40yrs ago). On pg.43 of the fifth edition, reprinted 1973,(1) Cowley mentions, ‘some of the party finished comfortably in the inn at Rosedale’.
Without much adooooooo… following breakfast, I turned right out of Rosedale Inn and followed a track walked upto Ana Cross through the quarries. A good fell climb. So, I’d achieved the two extremities of Bill Cowley’s outer sections of the LWW; St John’s Cross and Ana Cross.
What followed was a great ridge route to Bank Top and then onwards to Hasty Bank. The pace moved on to just over 3+ miles per hour. My left knee started to burn out with the pace! Below the Lion Inn I needed to stop and take stock of my left knee. Significant pain had been occurring over the area of the knee and behind, so, I peeled the knee support back and opened the wound cover to see a little bit of blood. Black pudding extraordinary! I stopped for 30 minutes or so and had some lunch.
Rosedale Abbey had forgotten to make a packing up and I was using the previous day’s rations, which seemed to work out perfectly after fish and chips the night before. After my break I peeled away the knee support and the looseness of the knee felt better. Walking around the Dales’heads was a great pain reliever and at Bloworth Crossing I realised I had been knocking up the miles and the knee felt swollen but freed up. Nevertheless, the knee was slightly bleeding, rather attempting to make sanguineous drainage or a scab.
Just below Carr Ridge, in the quarries, I stopped at one of my favourite seats, day or night and, looked at the view with the thought of the Cleveland Plain behind me yet to be exposed entirely. Apple Maps suggested a slightly different alternative approach to accessing the cliff top route rather than the steps. I followed it and to my surprise it was a similar incline but graduated (rather than pretending to be a giraffe jumping over oddly created clouds) leading me onto the next challenge.
From Lordstones’ cafe area I gradually began to seize up and wondered if I would make the finishing stone above Cod Beck Reservoir. But, a phone call from my better half, and the comment, (‘you’ve made it this far and I’m getting close to Scotch Corner’) I realistically considered my position, found extra energy and sort of walked in to (literally) the LWW stone at Cold Beck Reservoir laughing insanely at an odd humour which had gathered me. Kate took the final photograph of me standing at the LWW stone sort of quite rapturous at getting to the end, and I took to the car where soup, sandwiches, chocolate biscuits, tea and equally importantly, a cold compress for the knee, awaited my attention. An achievement of sorts.
The ridge walking earlier in the day will stick in my mind as much as, ‘I’m at Scotch Corner, keep going…’commentary, which, really was saying, keep going or I’ll have ye’, as Rab C Nesbitt might ha’ seid.
Until the next crossing…in September/October ‘26. I understand that some type of (lunatic) certification may cross my path before then? I prayer to the gods of the underworld that it may and save me from the charms of the dales and their entrapment. (Well, Kate hopes so).
1. Cowley, B. Lyke Wake Walk. Dalesman Publishing Company, Clapham, via Lancaster, Yorkshire. (5th ed.). [1971 reprint 1973].