We’re ready to resume!!!
The day is fast approaching when Mike and I depart Boston to wing our way to Manchester England and thence to the village of Orton in Cumbria to resume our Coast-to-Coast Walk across England. If you followed our exploits last September you will recall I had fixated on the task of undertaking Arthur Wainwright’s path…
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Epilogue
Mike and I are sitting in the lounge of the hotel awaiting transfer in about one hour to Terminal 1 at Manchester International Airport where Aer Lingus will take us home. I’ve used the quiet moments here to reflect on the events of the past ten days but also on the rolling ride of the…
The Final Day – Glaisdale to Robin Hood’s Bay
[Exhausted me finished this post last night but neglected to post it correctly. We are alive and getting geared up for the return to home.] 9:30PM GMT To be perfectly honest, I am a bit at a loss for words. I know words will come if I keep hitting the keys but I really have…
Day 8 – Great Broughton to Glaisdale
Mike and I achieved a couple of milestones today. First, we both finished the longest single walks of our lives. MACS Adventures says we walked 17 and a half miles, but Steve Jobs, who personally programmed my smart watch, says it was a tad over 19 miles. I’ll go with Steve’s estimate, but either number…
Day 7 – Ingleby Cross to Great Broughton
If elections were held today to determine the best segment of the Coast-to-Coast, this day would receive Dennis’ solid “Yes”. After some meticulous attention to Dennis’ ailing left heal with guidance from an anonymous YouTuber, we accepted a lift from our host Malcolm to the trail head located about a half mile from Ingleby Farm…
Day 6 – Richmond to Ingleby Cross
The combination of today’s searing heat, the projected walking distance of 23 miles and the troubling persistence of Dennis’ left heel blister forced an elevation of prudence over bravado and a decision was reached over breakfast to forego today’s walk and to seek motor transportation (i.e. a taxi ride) from Richmond to Ingleby House Farm…
Day 5 – Reeth to Richmond
Today’s was a mostly delightful walk through the Yorkshire Dales where most of our walking time was spent in the company of farm animals who are largely oblivious to the presence of human passers-by. The fact that sheep and cows spend so much time in the company of humans is a tribute to Britain’s tradition…
Day 4 – Keld to Reeth
Today’s outing presented stunning scenery and one endless and unnecessary climb that brought the realization that Alfred Wainwright had a sadistic streak. The basic trajectory of today was to follow the course of the River Swale from the tiny village of Keld to the slightly larger town of Reeth. There are two routes mapped for…
Day 3 – Kirkby Stephen to Keld – “Bog slog”
What a way to spend the last day of my 74th year on planet Earth! Mike and I departed Kirkby Stephen at about 9 this morning. There was an unfortunate waste of 45 minutes caused by a wrong turn in town and a stop at the pharmacy to find a remedy for Mike’s congestion. But…
Day 2 – Food
I inadvertently omitted references to the food we consumed this first day of walking. As always in these parts, the day started with a ridiculously fatty full English breakfast. This is a two-edged sword because it fills the gullet amply but metabolizing this kind and quantity of food robs energy from the body as it…
Day 2 – Orton to Kirkby Stephen
Mike and I arrived in the bustling little town of Kirkby Stephen at about 5pm having left Orton shortly after 9 this morning. After a bit of freshening up at The Fletcher House, our digs for the night, we strolled down Market Street to find a libation and a meal. After a couple of hits…
Day 1 – Boston to Orton
I suppose that this post should rightly be entitled “Narragansett to Orton” because the chauffeured ride from home to Logan Airport was memorable in its own right. Certainly any 80 mph drive up Route 95 is memorable but this particular jet pack excursion was extra special because Bill, Mike’s trusted driver, hails from Cranston and…
Today is the Day
When I was a kid, it took forevah! for special days to arrive. No more. The passage of seven decades has the effect of compressing time and special days come and go like confetti in the wind. Consider the fact that my first-born grandchild who nestled in my arms as I rocked her to sleep…