Smooth Strolling
Possibly the best way to describe the mattress from last night would be to compare it to a putting green. There were rises and falls, and little support. I managed to find an angle that felt almost normal and I slept pretty well. The floors, like the mattress, were also uneven. It makes sense that a building more than 100 years old would not be perfectly plumb. I share these things only as observations, not complaints.
When I signed in to the hotel yesterday, I was assigned a breakfast time of 8:35 a.m. With their limited staff, it made sense to stagger the diners. When I arrived at my scheduled time, I was pleasantly surprised to see Diane, the magistrate from Australia, seated at a table in the dining area. I’d expected her to be at least a day ahead of me. Everyone sets their own pace on the route, and it was nice to sit and exchange stories about our experiences in the bogs.
The weather was perfect when I set out. There was a light overcast and the temperature was just about 60 degrees. The trail was along the road out of town, and a narrow bridge before it cut over to run parallel to the river. I walked through lots of pasture land and up and down some hills. Nothing was as pronounced or challenging as in the past few days.
About 45 minutes into the walk I ran into Kathy, the woman from Belgium. We walked along together for the next couple of hours and took a break in the small village of Marske.
Simple signs were posted for an old church that offered concessions from drinks to blister pads, paid for by the honor system. It had an incredibly comfortable bench where we could take a break. When you walk all day and usually take breaks sitting on a pad, discovering a chair or bench with back support is a delight.
Kathy shared a story about a woman being lost in the bog up by the Nine Standards yesterday. While Kathy was setting up her tent next to another hiker, named Richard, he somehow received a call from a friend of his who was "in trouble" in the bogs. Richard asked the proprietor of the campsite if there was a way to get up there. Next thing he knew, Richard was sitting on the back of an ATV bouncing over ruts, heading to the top of the hill. They searched but could not find the woman. When they returned to the campsite, she was there.
It turns out she had been swallowed by the bogs, but managed to extricate herself. Then after walking a short distance, her Apple watch informed her that the phone was no longer in her pocket. She stripped down and went back into the bogs in search of her phone. Ultimately, she found it. It must have been awful coming down that hill muddy, wet, and cold. Luckily, this story has a happy ending.
Kathy and I split up shortly after emerging from the forested area and getting back on the hills. I walked the rest of the way by myself until I hit the outskirts of Richmond. There I ran into a local gentleman and we spoke until we got to the village square.
On the way we passed a cricket match and an exercise involving young military cadets. Richmond is known for its historic castle, and the town square is enchanting. There was nice weather and the streets, while not crowded, were busy.
My hotel room here is about the size of a walk-in closet, but the mattress is more firm, the floor is level, and the bathroom is modern. I even had the opportunity to walk three doors down and buy some fresh fruit – a rare commodity through the Lakes district and in some of the Yorkshire accommodations. I even got to a sporting goods store and upgraded some equipment.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow. Most of it, anyway. It's 23 miles of nearly-level ground passing some farms, streams, and a sewage treatment plant.
