Osmotherley to Blakey Ridge, the longest hike

The times I left the tent to pee were cold as midwinter and clear as a gateway to the Universe. Wow! All too soon the alarm went off at 5.45am. Jesus!

I packed the rucksack, bent double in my mini tent, and then dismantled the tent, after dragging it in the darkish early lightish to the campsite reception, where there was a dry surface to work on. When I was packed I had a cold tin of baked beans and half a litre of cold water for breakfast.

Setting off up the valley to join the Cleveland Way, which formed the bulk of the route today, the view over the back of the ridge, towards the north, was subdued in the early light.

As I walked round the rollercoaster the light grew.

But so did the wind and, shortly followed by, the showers. The views were obliterated. Shame.

Historic country though, like most of the UK, peppered with ancient sites. We take them for granted but these are enormously significant. If one of our forefathers is buried under here we could add over 200 ‘greats’ to the grandad. Awe inspiring? You bet!

Over to the left, out towards the North Sea, the sun had been shining on Middlesbrough continuously for nearly an hour. What for? It’s still a craphole, rain or shine. Shine on me instead of this wind and rain, and the backstreets and the backstreets. Thanks Van.

The sections of flat walking on top had become paved, like the Lakes and popular Dales hikes.

And just when it looked like the future was flat, a drop and a climb intervened! This is it, looking back to where I was half an hour ago.

Finally the climb that culminated in rock faces for a number of real climbers, not scramblers like me, ended with an ongoing even walk into the Moors.

Looking back the hilltops to the right, which I’d stepped gingerly down and vigorously up, where bathed in sunlight.

And up into the Moors the sun brought a bright and optimistic perspective. My pace quickened, but around 14.00pm hundred hours I was starting to flag.

And then, after another half hour of gritted teeth I saw the Lion Inn up on a hill. But I was so concentrating on getting there that I couldn’t loosen my grip on my walking poles to take a picture. Twenty miles from start to finish, 14 of them rising and falling. Persistently. (Word of the week).

And then at 15.15 I arrived. Had a bath for an hour, slept for a while then got an early dinner and went to bed. £30 bed and breakfast. Private bathroom. Result.

Night night.