August 3, 2018: Kildale to Newton-Under-Roseberry
The famous Captain Cook monument serves as a beacon for many miles.
With materials from our own refrigerator we made a start on breakfast shortly after rising on the sixth day of our holiday. At 7:30 Ian also arrived with the cooked portions of this meal and, with such an early start to our day, we were able to begin our walk at 8:05 – a very early departure time indeed. We did not take packed lunches with us today since Gavan was convinced that with a short day scheduled we could make it to our place of accommodation in plenty of time to have lunch at its pub.
We did not use Gavan’s tube of sun block (Factor 100) since it was gray and overcast this morning. I had been in the habit of lathering up arms and face though not the back of my neck. This is because, as today, I had abandoned my new ASL baseball cap in favor of one in khaki hues that also had a long flap covering the nape – a gift from Tosh many years ago. Gavan felt that this useful object made me look more naff than usual and I did resemble a Japanese sniper on Guadalcanal but I persisted in its usage.
The Cleveland Way makes a right turn just beyond The Rectory and, on tarmac, begins a long uphill stretch that brings the walker to the precincts of Bankside Farm. Still more uphill followed before things leveled off a bit on the forested hilltop. I was out in front here, a rare occurrence, but Gavan called me back because I had missed a turnoff onto a series of forestry paths as we headed in a westerly direction. I was often puzzled at his certainty in route-finding but he showed me that the downloaded map on his phone even featured a black arrow that pinpointed our exact location as we moved forward.
At one stage in our progress through the Lonsdale Forest we had to tiptoe around a large fallen fledgling, one which was sitting on the trail; let us hope that its parents would come somehow to its rescue. Some steep uphill lead us at last up to the open moorland plateau that was home to that beacon we had been seeing for some time, especially yesterday, Captain Cook’s Monument on Easby Moor. We had a nice rest here, taking photos and enjoying the wide panorama below us. Then I lead off, following the path downhill in a northerly direction. Forestry dominated the scene hereabouts and when we had cleared this we reached a picnic ground on the road at the foot of Cockshaw Hill and we used a bench here for another rest. Cars were pulling up to park as we filled up on liquid.
Over a stone wall we can see our chief goal for the day, Roseberry Topping.
A jog to the right on the road put us at the foot of a steep path up to the top of Great Ayton Moor and then we continued in a mostly northerly direction with wonderful views ahead of the day’s chief objective, the conical projection of Roseberry Topping. It took a while to reach a spot opposite this target, separated from our route by a deep declivity. There was a bench here too and we sat down to consider our position. We had disdained the spur out to the White Horse on Monday but both of us wanted to complete the ascent of Roseberry Topping. There was a problem with the weather, however, for black clouds were approaching from the west and Gavan was reluctant to tackle this summit in the rain. He suggested that if it were wet we could continue on to our pub and return in the afternoon for this ascent but I felt it extremely unlikely that I would want to get back into hiking mode after settling in to the comforts of bar and bed. I was therefore most relieved when Gavan said that, as there was no rain yet, we might as well make an attempt to climb to the top now.
My attempt didn’t get very far for after only a minute or so I noticed that my clip-on sunglasses were missing and I turned around to return to our bench, where I found they had fallen onto the grass. The bench, incidentally, was a memorial to a young woman, Alison Brown, who had died in her twenty-third year. It bore a profound inscription, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” Nothing could provide better inspiration for a conquest of Roseberry Topping and with this in mind I began the necessary descent on a steep flagged staircase.
For Cleveland Way Walkers the ascent of Roseberry Topping begins with a descent.
Soon enough I had reached the bottom and started the struggle to the top. There were lots of other people doing the same – including a pair of gay walkers, one of whom – the one with a ring is his nose – kept spraying himself with an atomizer. Gavan had noticed that about half way up there was a less direct contour in the bracken and we took this to move forward on the southerly flank of the peak. Then it was more flagged steps to the top itself – with lots of people using this route for a scramble themselves. At the top itself there were dozens milling about and taking in the views and kids of all ages and plenty of dogs as well – a madhouse. Gavan gave me a congratulatory pat on the back and took some pictures.
We did not linger up here, however, for the rumble of thunder was now heard and, as this was certainly the prelude to rainfall, Gavan now wanted to get us off this imperfect cone – the western face having fallen off, perhaps due to mining activity. So we used the same flagged route to make our descent, though instead of turning back toward Newton Moor we kept moving in a westerly direction toward our night’s accommodation. There were still lots of people, struggling up from parking lots below, as we reached a parting of the ways. Now it did start to rain.
Across the grass at the foot of the peak there was a little open hut (with a lightning rod) and we headed here in order to don rain jackets. Again we did not remain for long and soon we were dropping down to a track that took us to the north under the cover of overhanging trees. The rain was very light and we had only a little way to go anyway. A road, Roseberry Lane, led to the west and put us on the A173, where we turned right for only a short distance in order to reach The King’s Head in Newton-Under-Roseberry. “You can take your hat off now,” a mortified Gavan said. We had walked six and a half miles and it was only 1:30.
Gavan had booked us a room at this popular establishment but it was not easy to discover which one it was since the internet connection was down and Leah, one of the many efficient and friendly staff members, was having a lot of trouble getting in touch with the inn’s records. We settled in opposite the bar counter and had a well deserved drink and then another. For lunch I had just a Caesar salad and, the computer again accessible, Leah led us out to the accommodation annex where we discovered our bags in the hallway. In our room I had a nice rest and listened to twenty-one of the Greatest Hits of Rock and Roll on my iPod. Gavan went out and had a look at some of the options available to us for our return to the Cleveland Way the next day.
At dinnertime we returned to the bar/restaurant (which, like so many places in Yorkshire, was dog-friendly indeed). For a while we sat across from the bar again and then we moved to a more quiet table where I had a delicious scampi and chips. It had been a very successful day but I knew we still had a bit of a struggle on the last day of our walk tomorrow.
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