Nearly there

I am now sitting in the smug at the Lion Inn at Blakey, oddly with a pint of Skipton Brewery's Golden Pippin. It feels a long way from home but the publican tells me I'm only 40 miles from home.

The area is inspiring, endless miles of wild moorland, heather and stones and peat - which I love - and stupid sheep, which I realise I dislike. A few miles of the route run on the raised bed of the Rosedal Railway, closed for nearly a century. A great route for a view of everything.




-- Post From My iPhone