Delayed Gratification
Last night was the first night I ever spent in a bed-and-breakfast. The room was clean and comfortable and the mattress was fabulous. Unfortunately, the walls were a little thin. Somebody next door was snoring like crazy. At breakfast I sat across the table from the two women who occupied the room adjacent to mine. I tried to figure out which of them was the one sawing logs all night. Fortunately, I always carry earplugs.
After a solid breakfast I started out, and shortly after getting back on the trail I decided to listen to a podcast. It was then I discovered that only my right earpiece was working. Considering all the equipment I needed to carry for this trip, this failure was totally tolerable. Everything else I use is working and in good order.
At this point the Wainwright coincides with the Cleveland Trail. Signage improved immensely and even I would have a challenge trying to get off track today. Much of the surface was groomed as well, at least until we started hitting a series of hills.
I was on my own for the first two hours or so, when I saw Kathy from Belgium sitting on a bench with a local man. She was taking a break and nursing her feet. The night before, at the restaurant, she couldn't get her feet completely into her shoes. We chatted for a few minutes and then, once again to my surprise, Diane from Australia came up behind us.
She had some friends locally and had spent the night with them. That meant she had to traverse an extra three miles to reach the day’s completion point. We walked along for only a few minutes together. Her pace was quicker than mine and since today held only 12 miles of walking for me, there was no real rush to get anywhere. We would catch up again later.
The path rose through a forested area and after cresting, descended over a river. There was more forest to cover before breaking out into the hills. Stones were put in place along much of this trail to mimic stairways. The problem is they were not placed in normal positions, heights or widths, and many were not level. Progress was slowed going up and came almost to a crawl when it was time to go down. The consequences of falling down are much more severe than falling while hiking up.
What I enjoy about trails like this is that they’re a continuing exercise in delayed gratification. Every time you broach the top of a hill, you're surprised to discover that it's not really the top. Every time you've done the up and down of one hill, there's another one ahead. Some people plan out and know every curve and stream and rise along the way. I like staying on the route and being surprised.
The highest point for the day was a spot called Cringle Moor. On the way to that peak, the first sight of the coast and the North Sea came into view. Looking in that direction, I know Robin Hood's Bay is out there, and that I’ll reach it in two more days of walking.
Another difference in this section of the trail was the presence of several benches and memorial plaques. On the second highest peak there was even a plaque with lines drawn to indicate what was along the sight line.
Looking to the east, I could see a rain shower approaching like a curtain of water. Hikers, myself included, dropped their backpacks and donned rain gear. I got my jacket on just in time before the skies opened up. When it rains you don't stop hiking. You're going to get wet either way. However, it does make the footing even more slick.
The rain ended after 10 or 15 minutes, and as the sun came out again, the huge rock outcropping called the Wainstones came into view. As I drew closer to it, I saw that it wasn't an area you walked around – it was a rock formation you had to pick your way through. While several of us were spread out on the ascent, we all moved slowly through the rocks to avoid a slip or fall. This was not the time to check a map or GPS. Footing was uncertain and it was more important to get through it, one route or the other, than it was to find the exact path.
Diane was well ahead of me and as I cleared some of the stones I could see she was walking down near the base of the hill. It made me question if I was on the correct track. Turns out I was, for a change.
Since the trail goes through a national park, there are no accommodations at this point on the Wainwright. After passing the Wainstones, we were instructed to call the hotel. It was 30 minutes walking from that point to a rendezvous area where we were collected and taxied to the area’s only hotel.
As I hit the bottom of the path and connected with the road, Diane emerged from the right. Her timing was perfect, and the van was waiting to pick five of us up when we arrived at the parking area. We all agreed that the 10-minute ride was much preferred over walking on roads to get to our accommodations.
Dinner was good and I have another great mattress tonight. A good night's sleep is welcomed, because I face another 20-mile walk tomorrow. It's substantially less hilly as we hit the moors. Regardless, I can feel the fatigue through my legs at an earlier stage every day. Maybe I should have taken a day of rest somewhere. But the finish line is way too close to think about what I might have done.
