The final day
arrives in a flash, the weather perfect as I set out from Grosmont, the steam
trains being fired up for the Steam Gala weekend breaking the silence. A very
steep climb out of the village got the legs warmed up, then out on to the moors
for the last time. I had to keep an eye on the time today making sure I reached
Robin Hoods Bay with time to spare to enjoy the end moment. The Sherpa van would pick me up at 4pm and take me back to my car at
Richmond. The sun soon burnt off the morning mist and the temperature again
rose steeply. Once on top I could straight away see Whitby and the North Sea.
The route seemingly to be heading in that direction, which was a bit
disconcerting. Then down into the valley of Little Beck, a beautiful village,
where the route followed a stream through a wooded area, the cooling of the
shade welcome. But it was not long before a steepish climb to a car park
brought me out of the wood. A chap calling to his wife "hey this guys just
run up here", we joked about the running bit and chatted about what I was
doing. Amazed he gave me two lemon sherbet sweets and I was on my way. It's the
little things that have made this walk so worthwhile. Up onto the moors again
but just a small section before entering a caravan site! Stick to the right hand
path said the sign, once through, there was the North Sea and the start of my
lap of honour around the cliff tops (3 miles approx), Robin Hoods Bay coming
into view at the very last moment. Due to the weather the place was heaving
with short skirts and shorts. What anybody thought of me dressed to the hilt in
my walking clobber and a bright orange 'Pillar' T Shirt I don’t know, and
didn't care, as I walked straight down the middle of the road triumphantly. As
I made my way to the Wainwright bar, a sudden shout rang out, it was the
Sunderland pair. They completed the walk yesterday and had guessed the time of
my arrival and came down to meet me. Will went to buy me a pint whilst I
completed my rituals on the beach. Boots dipped in the North Sea and my pebble,
that I carried all the way, duly dispatched. The signing of the Coast to Coast register and the obligatory photos taken, sitting outside the Wainwright bar enjoying my well deserved beer and I was done.
Except, for that little matter of completing a certain section of the route. So
it was back up the steep hill, completed without stopping, to meet the Sherpa
van. Outside the Victoria hotel the van was waiting and like the journey to the
start I was the only passenger. Back at Richmond we transferred my baggage to
the car and off I went to Shap!