Breakfast at the pub was a lovely shambles. Too many people had been camping, bed and breakfasting or staying at the bunk house last night. Too many people for this quirky pub to deal with and everyone just ended up helping themselves.
Lesley was taking a cab to Kirby Stevens railway station and catching a train back to Horton on Ribblesdale to pick up her car, so we had to say goodbye :( She was excited though as the Settle to Carlisle railway is supposed to be the most beautiful railway line in the country and it was a favorite of our dad's - fitting in yet again with the greater theme of this story.
I was then on my own again, and set off north across the lonely, desolate and boggy moors and out of Yorkshire Dales National Park. I quickly gave up on keeping my feet dry and focused instead on not getting sucked up to my waist in bog. The flagstones that usually spanned the bogs were noticeably missing on this section of the Pennine Way making navigation tricky. Luckily the mist lifted as I descended and I could see marker posts at various intervals in the distance across the moors. It was fairly flat and I made good time despite an annoying pain in my toes.
Once off the moors, I followed a track for a short distance and a cute little tractor came up over the hill, followed by more cute little tractors. I waved at all the drivers as they passed and they proudly waved back. It was a sight to behold and could possibly explain a sign that had perplexed me a couple of days ago. The pennine way sign also had a plaque on it of a tractor labeled with coast to coast. There is another national trail that goes coast to coast and I do believe these tractors may have been following this path. Only in England. How brilliant.
My toe pain continued to get worse so I cut my day short about ten miles later at Clove farm B&B conveniently located right on the path. They were full but she squeezed me in her daughters room, brought me tea and cake and made me feel very welcome.
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