Yorkshire Wolds Way #6 - Ganton to Filey Brigg 08/09/16

12.1 miles, via Staxton Wold, Cotton Dale Slack, Flixton Wold, Lang Dale, Raven Dale,
 Camp Dale, Folkton Wold, Stocking Dale, Muston Wold, Muston & Filey.

National Trail means Selfies!
#6 at Ganton

Second Intermediate rest day is spent on a trip down memory lane, visiting the North York Moors Railway to ride the rails from Pickering to Whitby and back behind 61264, which is four hours worth of excursion in itself, but still leaving enough time to return to base for an evening stroll around The Bay, on the site of Filey Butlin's, which is really crystallising as 'The Village' in my mind, and to wander all the way down to the beach too. I'm not on a coast to coast trail so my arrival by the sea doesn't feel like a cheat, especially as Filey bay must be one of the best beaches in the county, and certainly one of the least populated too, and it's not just good for paddling and sandcastles at it has history too, World War II era pillboxes rest on the sand to provide transportation to another age. Back in September though, and it's completion time, as my second National Trail is due to go down, and the distances needed to be travelled get ever shorter as we ride the Parental Taxi back to Ganton, one time home of Harry Vardon, pioneering late 19th century golfer and 6 time Open Champion, for a 9.40am start by St Nicholas's church, and for the first time in all my walking days, it looks like I might risk company on the trail as another quartet of walkers are arriving as I start out onto the field boundaries that rise through the recently harvested fields that sit above a haze covered Ryedale. The uphill drift on the early going is to be expected, but the hard work in my lungs isn't, and the first hard rise on the appropriately named Wold Lane demands an early watering break, letting the other walkers take the day's lead, before heading up a tree-lined and cattle observed track to meet the 65 mile marker, and my doubts about the Wolds Way's actual length start to surface as I note the miles to go to Filey count has decreased by 6 miles since East Heslerton Brow.

Good to be rising back onto the Wolds, leaving Ryedale behind and wandering on under the milky sunshine to the B1249 crossing at Grange Farm, and joining the long high road towards RAF Staxton Wold, its microwave tower especially prominent and its radome becoming apparent as we draw closer, and it's not an airfield, rather a Remote Radar Head, feeling under-populated and the sort of place you shouldn't be photographing. Having crested Staxton Wold and passing High Farm, we return to the creased landscape of the Wolds having barely seen any on it since Deep Dale Plantation, and we go down for a distance into the wooded cleft of Cotton Dale Slack, before ascending sharply out of it again as we hit an eastern track that opens up a vista over the extensive branches of Lang Dale. Our path hangs close to a fence that cuts a straight line over its northern fringe of rises and falls, the tops offering a good spot to linger if it wasn't for the quartet of walkers having claimed the spot already, and on the higher portions, the fringes of Flixton Wold, another walker appears from nowhere, startling the both of us before he burns me off and is later recognised as having been seen at Wharram Percy on Day #4. Pondering the formation of the Wolds and Dales, surely post-glacial runoff carving deep gouges through the chalk in a geologically short period of time, is a distraction from the gathering cloud, not the sort of thing you'd expect on an all-sunshine forecast day, and by the time the last ascent is made from Lang Dale, onto the Flixton - Fordon road, I'm feeling under-dressed and ready to file a complaint about the weather. So suddenly chilly feelings are abound as we meet the earthwork that runs above the edge of Raven Dale, and my mind ponders further the classification of the terrain, thinking 'If it's cultivated, it's a Wold, and if it's rough pasture, it's a Dale', a theory which seems fine until we descend into Camp Dale which has wheat fields at its base. Rest here, shaded from the wind to take lunch and to let the other walkers overtake me again, happy (sort of) to let the many insects lunch on me as the sunshine returns to change the dynamic of the day and the landscape before moving on again.

Take the rising track above Camp Dale to the edge of Folkton Wold and despite the agriculture having scarred it, it's a beautiful sight of the golden hues of harvested fields scattered around Danebury Manor farm, and the 70 mile marker is met along the way, telling us that there's only 7 miles to go, despite the official length of the Way being listed at 79 miles. Pass the walking party, to regain solitude for the remainder of the day, and roll on as the landscape has a dramatic change as the path slips down to the bottom of Camp Dale, and continues on through long grass and woodlands, hiding the earthworks of the ancient camp that named the dale, and meet the path junction that takes us up Stocking Dale. A gentle ascent for the last Wolds climb of the day, sweltering hot at the bottom of the dale, with the wind beating the trees high above, and after so many valleys it feels a shame to leave them behind, but the final push is now on as we hit the fields above, moving to another ancient earthwork that leads over to Stockendale Farm, whilst offering views to the wrinkles of the chalkland out to Flamborough Head across the fields, but no coastal views despite the altitude, almost 130m up. Cross the Hunmanby - Folkton Road and start another long field boundary walk, along the hedge that conceals Muston Wold farm, but as the paces go down, we finally get a confirmed sea view as the North Sea finally emerges above the Blue dolphin caravan park at Gristhorpe, and the descent from the chalk hills expands the view of the sea from Scarborough Castle round to Bempton cliffs. Filey and the Brigg remain relatively concealed though, as if the conclusion of the day doesn't want to be spoiled from a distance, and the long descent offers plenty of coastal views, and even the odd one back to Ryedale, pausing to finish lunch with a view of Filey Bay before too much height is lost and a number of useless gates are passed along the descending hedge. Frustratingly, there's no hillside profile to gain whatsoever having come off the chalk hills, which is a bit of an anti-climax, until you recall that there wasn't one on the first day either when the ascents started, and we're due to return to relative civilisation too, and our first village since Ganton almost seems to hide behind a bank of trees, as if too shy to announce itself to the walker.

The Way almost seems reluctant to meet the A1039, our first official A road since Fridaythorpe, and to make its way into Muston, the much more modest neighbour to Filey that is nowhere near the scale of Hunmanby, but despite it being a rural retreat from the larger towns of this quarter, it's still a place to love with its share of whitewashed houses with brick accents spread along West Street. It also has a pub, The Ship, actually open for business and a charming Victorian chapel in the Norman style in All Saints, adjacent to the oversize vicarage, and even this close to the coast, the waters of the beck flow west towards the Derwent rather than east to the sea. A pretty good place to obtain a roadside farm on King Hill on the relative cheap too, and the brief road walk we've had wins me over to this village, departed from the green on Mount View and onto the fields to get to the crossing of the main coastal road, the A165, where all kinds of hilarious shenanigans are going on as a combine harvester attempts to join the traffic flow. Field walking follows, uphill towards the coast, naturally, sneaking a last look back to Ryedale before we arrive on path behind the playing fields of Filey Academy, slipped around towards the main road, and I'm sure the 75 mile should be around here somewhere but don't see it, and once on the oft-travelled track of Muston Road, the finish line beyond Filey starts to feel close. The suburbia off to the north all spreads of a road called Wharfedale, to tie neatly into this year's theme, and soon enough we find some familiar NER architecture in the crossing house and station house by the level crossing leading out of Filey station, another gem with its overall roof intact, like Beverley in miniature, and so we are on into the town, along Station Avenue, around the roundabout and past the regularly visited branch of Tesco. Pass the takeaway  from our emergency Friday night meal, NY Place and suppose that the most straightforward way down to the seafront would be to continue down Murray Street, between the spired Methodist church and the boldly styled Boots store but the Way seems intent on taking us on a tour of the side streets, starting down Union Street, past the impressively Romanesque Primitive Methodist chapel.


National Trail means Selfies!
#7 at Filey Brigg.

Take turns among the pubs, takeaways and house along Mitford Street and Reynolds Street to roll up on Queen Street, by the Town Council office, to meet another inviting view down to the seafront, but again we turn away from it, down a concealed alleyway to meet the path above the wooded cleft that runs through the north-eastern corner of the town, the steps eventually leading down to the seafront at Coble Landing. So the coast is met, but there's no time to linger among the late season tourists, and cross the appropriately named Ravine Road to walk up the deeply confusing zig-zag path up the other side to gain the path up on the clay cliffs to finally gain sight of Filey Brigg extending out to see on its long spit of gritstone. Take a look back to St Oswald's church before pushing on along the clifftop path above the sailing club and avoiding the tent pitched in the most awkward spot possible, and enjoy the sea view, all the way around Filey Bay to the chalk headlands at Bempton and Flamborough, and it seems wrong to end on the red clays up here after all the paths over the chalk, but then again we didn't start on them either. There's one last surprise before we reach the end though, a snaking drop down into the wooded cleft of Wool Dale, containing the path from the country park and camp site down to the beach, and then the legs can push on to the car park at the top to meet the Parental Taxi and to bring My Mum out to the Wolds Way seat so the beginning and the end of the Way can be witnessed, finished at 3pm, exactly as I predicted. I'll not venture all the way onto the crumbly cliffs of the Brigg as My Parents have been out here for most of the afternoon, so I'll tease a quick look to the north with dreams of the Cleveland Way being taken on in the future before we head away. Naturally, I'm thrilled that another National Trail has gone down, with more than 79 miles walked, though not all of it was officially on the Wolds Way and so happy that My Parents have been able to come out and share the experience with me this year, because without them, none of this would have been possible.

5,000 Miles Cumulative Total: 2453.4 miles
2016 Total: 439 miles
Up Country Total: 2237.9 miles
Solo Total: 2222.5 miles

St Nicholas, Ganton, another Wolds spire that grabs the attention.

Wold Lane, ascending back onto the hills.

RAF Staxton Wold, Remote Radar Head, and that's really all I know.

Cotton Dale Slack, and we're back into the creases of the Wolds!

Lang Dale, the largest Dale on this end of the trail.

Still in Langdale and riding the rollercoaster path aside an arrow straight fence.

The Raven Dale - Camp Dale junction, and cloud cover.
Not shown: Fearsomely cold wind.

70 miles walked, as the sunshine bakes Camp Dale.

Stocking Dale, our last major dale on the Wolds Way.

Muston Wold, looking to the wrinkles of the chalkland leading out to
Flamborough Head, and I don't know why the Way doesn't head over there.

Confirmed sea view from Muston Wold, Scarborough Castle to Blue Dolphin.

Over Filey Bay and The Bay to Bempton Cliffs.

Muston, there's a lot of whitewash with brick accents in the local architecture.

One last look back to Ryedale and the Derwent Valley.

Filey Station, another NER gem that redevelopment didn't demolish.

Queen Street, Filey and the tempting route to the beach.

Ravine Road, along with Wool Dale, providing some ups and downs in the late going.

Filey Brigg, clay cliffs atop a gritstone spur, the scenic end of the Yorkshire Wolds Way,
my second National Trail completed, with the Cleveland Way tempting me for my third? 

Next Up: Summer Holiday finale, blazing another trail around the City of Leeds.