Here Comes the Sun (finally)

The journey across England progresses. We left the Lakeland and headed toward the Pennine Hills and Yorkshire Dales. Leaving Orton, the weather showed some improvement though we left our rain gear on. Strode by large hilly sheep farms and a few grand estates off narrow country lanes. Took a few variants off the stated route, at one point finding ourselves on a pleasant disused railway converted to a nature walk. Home of the colorful Scotch Argus butterfly, this area between Orton and Kirby Stephens is also a site of considerable historical significance. Significant British-Roman settlements have been discovered. Limestone was quarried to make mortar to build England's stone houses and the tremendous stone viaduct and bridge of Smardale. In 13 miles, we reached Kirby Stephens, a larger market town and agricultural center. Our lodging was at the youth hostel, converted from a Methodist church. Now the pews are used as benches for a dining area with large tables. We slept in a private room with bath and shower. Cooked spaghetti with tomato sauce along with a huge green salad in their self-catering kitchen, delighted to eat-in for a change. Average age of youth hostel client - 50s. Awoke to an almost cloudless morning and dug out our long forgotten hiking shorts for the mild ascent to the Nine Standards (second highest point on walk). The Nine Standards are nine large rock cairns you can see far off in the distance. No one really knows why they were built but seem to be an old boundary marker - both a district border and the continental divide of England for river flow. At the top, the clouds rolled in, the temperature dropped quickly, wind picked up, and on came the rain pants again! From here, the hike is known for being a mud pit of sorts through sporadic severly eroded peat bogs. The windswept wide open moors are not a place where you want to become either stuck in the mud or lost. The paths are faint and trails are not marked. I took a map bearing just in case the weather worsened. Made it through the boggy area with only a few boot dips ankle deep into the black muck and literally crawled on all fours to get out of one ditch. Decided on a side trail down off the plateau to take the road the rest of the way to Keld. Had a lovely walk near the river, for the first time flowing east toward the North Sea, rather than west towards the Irish Sea. I still have the west coast pebble in my pack, though at times it has seemed more like a larger rock. Nevertheless, the sense of accomplishment is a powerful motivator to continue progressing forward over the remaining 95 miles. The terrain is constantly changing yet retains its country charm, and each night's accommodation is full of variety, and usually a pleasant surprise.