Wednesday 15th April 1998

Leave the village of Reeth following an access road to Marrick Priory. From here pass through Marrick village and then via field paths to a road which drops steeply down to the pretty village of Marske. Further road walking and field paths lead to a track below Applegarth Scar. Follow the track through Whitcliffe Wood after which it becomes a metalled lane. Follow this into Richmond. There are no difficulties.

Route: Reeth to Richmond via Marrick, Marske,  Applegarth Scar, Whitcliffe Wood

Distance: 10.5 Miles

Grade:.Easy, on clear tracks and field paths and roads..

Facilities: All available- Richmond is the largest town on the whole route and virtually every requirement can be found here. I stayed at Pottergate which was okay but not helped by being under very new ownership.

Day Eight

I left Ridding Bushes early and followed a vague path across fields to Reeth. The village centre was very attractive with cottages, pubs and shops set around a large green. All around, high moors loomed and I began to regret not booking into a guesthouse in the village itself as I would have liked to have spent more time absorbing the atmosphere. After a short stop, I made my way to Marrick Priory along a driveway passing fields of sheep and newly born lambs. The lambs made a comical sight as many were clothed in bright orange polythene ‘overcoats’ The un-seasonally cold weather had been responsible for numerous deaths and farmers had taken to this unconventional form of insulation in an attempt to protect them from the elements. From Marrick Priory I climbed the Nunnery Steps through trees to the village of Marrick. Following field paths I crossed Marske Beck before arriving at the steep road into the pretty village of Marske. Leaving Marske, I eventually arrived at a large cairn on the track beneath Applegarth Scar and rested  for a while looking back across the countryside to the River Swale. It was difficult to believe that the terrain had been transformed so dramatically in such a seemingly short distance and my mind drifted back to the wildness of Nine Standards Rigg and the desolate lead mines of Swaledale. Passing through Whitcliffe Wood I had my first glimpse of Richmond with the Norman keep of the castle towering over the houses. A short distance later and I was in the bustling centre of the town which came as something of a shock after Keld and Reeth as the closest I had come to any town even approaching this size in over a week was Kirkby Stephen three days earlier. I explored the attractive centre with it’s cobbled square and impressive church. Eventually I made my way to the castle, the highlight of the day, and spent an hour or so exploring the impressive remains and enjoying the excellent views to the River Swale at the foot of it’s walls. (Above: View from Riddings Bushes)

After leaving the castle, I found a path that encircled the outer walls above the river and took a leisurely stroll around this circuit before heading off to find my guesthouse for the night. Richmond was an impressive town which had successfully managed to retain it's architectural heritage. It felt strange to be walking through streets busy with traffic and people with my rucksack and muddy boots but I was enjoying the odd feeling of being in the hub of all of this activity after so many days in the remote countryside. The guesthouse was okay but rather soulless which may have been because the lady running it had only just taken charge of it. It may also have been that I appeared to be the only guest staying in what was almost a small hotel. I crept along the quiet, eerie corridors feeling a little like an intruder. In the evening, I went into the town for something to eat and felt a little like an intruder here too. In all of the places I had stayed so far I had managed to strike up a conversation but I found that here in a much larger town I was just a passing stranger. I visited a couple of pubs in search of a meal but nothing appealed and so I bought fish and chips and sat beneath the castle overlooking the Swale to eat them. I retired early as I had a long walk tomorrow across the Vale of Mowbray to the edge of the North York Moors, the last of the three National Parks on my route. Robin Hoods Bay would soon be more than just a name on a map.