Joanna On The Trail

Thursday, August 13, 2026

💡PRO TIP: You really do need to be prepared for anything on the C2C. I’ve gone from feeling like I was melting in just a tank top to still feeling cold even after adding a long-sleeve sun shirt, windbreaker, rain jacket, and beanie, all in one day! It covers such a wide variety of terrain that one pair of shoes (boots or trail runners) will be woefully insufficient on some days, plus changing footwear helps reduce repetitive strain on your feet and legs.

15.01 miles / 1,017 ft elevation gain

Today is the start of the second section I decided to split, in lieu of taking rest days. Consistent with Wainwright’s suggestion, the book defines a 22.5 mile segment from Richmond to Ingleby Cross. Wainwright calls this segment, which crosses the Vale of Mowbray, “tedious”. And he was even less fond of Danby Wiske, the village at roughly the halfway point, saying it is “less attractive than its name”. So he preferred to get the whole thing over with in one day. It’s a very level, even slightly downhill route, so that should be doable. However, the following segment is also over 20 miles, with quite a few hills, and stopping halfway on that one requires staying in a village several kilometers off-trail. So, I chose to spend a night in Danby Wiske, giving myself what should be two easier days, and saving my energy for the next long segment.

Looking at the book, I realized I’d overestimated how long this segment should be; it actually appears to be just over 13 miles, rather than 14.5. Unfortunately, a missed turn would cause me to walk even further than that. But first, a morning exploring Richmond.

A Morning in Richmond

I slept in until 7:30 and woke up feeling well-rested. After a leisurely breakfast of avocado toast with poached eggs and roasted tomatoes, I headed out (sans backpack!) to wander around town. I first stopped for a few supplies at Boots (the UK pharmacy chain), then went to Thomas the Baker to pick up a Wensleydale & carrot chutney sandwich for lunch, browsed the market hall, and wandered through the wynds (winding alleys leading away from the market) until Richmond Castle opened at 10am. Turns out the wife of former prime minister Rishi Sunak was also there, being filmed for a documentary, which had the castle staff very excited. I spent about half an hour exploring the tower building, grounds, and exhibits. A little boy with his father and grandmother was exploring the tower at the same time as me. Asked how old he thought the building was, he said, “two thousand, one million, four hundred and seventy-two.” Seems about right.

I returned to the hotel in time for checkout, brought my bag downstairs (they had a lift!), settled up, and stopped at Mocha for an iced latte before heading out of town. The high today was supposed to be in the low 90s, and it was already sweltering. I should know better than to save the walk for the hottest part of the day. 🥵

I wore my long-sleeve sun shirt to protect my skin. The burn is now tan, but I’ve been getting a lot of sun exposure these last few days. I wore my buff around my neck, wetting it frequently to help cool down. I also wore shorts again, and switched back to my Topo trail runners, with the double insoles like I’d used in my boots yesterday. They felt nice and squishy, but my feet sat a bit high in the shoes, which felt slightly unstable. Good thing there weren’t many hills today. I think switching to trail runners with both insoles was an improvement over the same setup in boots. At this point I think the rest of the C2C will continue to be mostly fields and roads, so I’ll probably stick with this setup going forward.

Many Wrong Turns

Leaving Richmond meant getting lost in the wynds until I finally found Richmond Bridge and crossed over, hoping that would be the last time I’d get lost today. It was not. It took me three tries to find the right route past the Richmond City FC building and pitch, including a very steep drop down to, and back up from, the River Swale. This issue would continue all day, due to signposts being poorly placed and imprecise about which direction to go.

I was feeling annoyed, but a brief visit with a friendly young springer spaniel cheered me up. It’s been great to start the day petting dogs out for their morning walks. That stretch of path runs through a wooded area above the river, on the bank opposite the town. I couldn’t see the river through the trees, but I could hear families playing in it, it sounded like an amusement park down there.

Wheat Fields and Waste Water

I came out of the woods into a little meadow, where I saw a young deer that seemed distressed, unable to get through the fence. I felt bad for it and stood still while it figured out where to go. The path followed the road for a bit, to the gate of the waste water treatment center, then turned right to run alongside it. That section was even smellier than it sounds, with fresh cow patties in the path adding depth and complexity to the aroma. On the other side, I noticed a path along the river joining at that point; not sure why that isn’t the official C2C route instead. Unlike the clear water the kids were playing in just upstream, the river downstream of the treatment facility is gross and full of algae. 🤮

Adding to the ambiance, signs everywhere warn that troops, presumably from Catterick Garrison, train in the area, so stay on the right of way. A little while later I found myself walking across the first of many recently mowed wheat fields I’d cross over the next two days.

Eventually I came to Colburn, hoping to get a snack and use the toilet at Hildyard Arms, but it was closed. On the other side of town it was back into the wheat fields, which seemed to amplify the heat. At some point I caught that familiar smell again and realized I was near another waste water treatment facility, thankfully a bit further off this time, and got past it quickly. Then came a small group of sunflowers, and a couple of fields later, an entire field of them. They really helped brighten my mood.

Roman Roads and a Lunch Stop

Continuing through wheat fields and along the River Swale, I passed St Giles Farm, which offers B&B, camping, and refreshments (but no sign of toilets) for walkers. I finally decided to squat quickly at the edge of a field. I hadn’t seen another hiker all day, so I hoped I was safe. The path would soon cross under the A1 (which I could already hear) into Catterick Bridge, and I wasn’t sure I’d get another opportunity soon.

Catterick Bridge was once a Roman fort called Cataractonium, built along Dere Street, which dates to around AD 80 and was one of the most important roads in Roman Britain. Crossing the bridge, I continued on a narrow path out of town, alongside old quarries that are now lakes, on paths provided by the Tarmac Corporation.

Finally I made it into Bolton-on-Swale. It was almost 2:30 and I was starving, so I stopped on the first partially shaded bench I saw to eat lunch. The sandwich from Thomas the Baker was excellent, but sadly the caramel truffle from Mocha had melted. While eating, I rolled my feet on my lacrosse ball to massage and stretch them. Refreshed, I put my pack back on, walked around the corner, and immediately found myself at St Mary’s church, which invited passersby in to cool off, grab refreshments, and use the toilet. If only I’d taken a few more steps before picking my lunch spot! I still stopped in, used the toilet, reapplied sunscreen, and made a small donation. I talked to Lee briefly on my way out (my battery was dying since I’d forgotten to turn on airplane mode), then followed the path back into the fields.

Finding a Walking Buddy but Losing the Trail (again)

A little while later I noticed a walker, the first I’d seen all day, behind me at a gate, and he eventually caught up. Ethan is also walking the C2C solo, but camping and carrying his own stuff, between graduating university and starting his job. We walked together for the last couple hours of the day, chatting about his career plans, history (his major), and the differences between England and the US. I took the chance to ask about units, since it had confused me (I expected everything to be metric): they measure distances in miles, buy fuel in liters but measure fuel efficiency in mpg, and describe a person’s height in feet and inches, not meters.

At one point we realized we’d missed our turn, continuing instead to the tiny village of Streetlam, where we found a footpath labeled C2C. Looking at the book later, it seems the OS maps in my apps reflect a newer official route that the book still describes as a 1-mile-longer, not-recommended alternative. So what we actually did was follow that alternative, then, after missing our turn, rejoin the book’s recommended main path. Instead of today being shorter than expected, it ended up longer.

Leaving Streetlam, the footpath went right past a house, through a riding arena with shredded-tire footing and jumps, then through two small pastures, each with a horse. We opened the first gate into the arena, and suddenly 3 dogs we hadn’t noticed came running at us, fur up, barking. Two were small terriers, but the bigger Labrador retriever came straight at me, looking ready to bite. I lifted my foot to avoid it, and it stopped right in front of me, still barking angrily. We backed out of the gate and started toward a path to the right, running between fields. Right then, a guy came out and said, “come back in, the dogs are all bark but won’t bite.” When we hesitated, he seemed offended, so we went back in to walk through. The dogs seemed angry again at first, until he yelled at them, and by the time we reached the other side, they seemed like they wanted to play instead.

I was feeling a little shaken, and happy to reach the pasture with a friendly bay mare. I stopped to pet her, thanking her for being nicer than her canine friends. The next pasture had a dapple-gray horse who didn’t come say hi, but didn’t seem to mind us either. We continued through a narrow, stinky, fly-infested path lined with prickly bushes. I brushed my bare leg against one and it felt like my shin was on fire. Ethan said they were stinging nettles, probably what got my finger the other day too.

Into Danby Wiske

Finally we made it back into fields, then roads, for the last stretch into Danby Wiske. About a mile out, my water bladder ran dry and I finished off my Nalgene, the first day I’d actually run out.

Ashfield House B&B has no website that I could find, so I wasn’t sure what to expect walking up. I noticed a cute little black cat wearing a red collar, sitting next to the house. She seemed to be begging for attention, so of course I obliged. She rolled onto her back for a belly rub, so sweet. I’d later learn her name is Blackberry, and was warned, “don’t leave your windows open too wide at night or she will come in to snuggle in your bed.” I’ll admit I was tempted to leave mine wide open. 😻

A sign on the front door said to come in, put shoes in a cubby, and read the info sheet on the table. Inside was a nicely decorated kitchenette/breakfast area, with a scone and jam waiting, a menu for the pub (The White Swan), and a sheet with my name on it, telling me my room and reminding me to get my dinner order to the pub by 5pm. It was already 5:20, but I was too sweaty to go anywhere without cleaning up first; the dirt line on my ankles after taking my socks off made that clear. I showered quickly, changed, left my breakfast and lunch order on the table, and walked around the corner to the pub.

An Evening at The White Swan

Walking in, a guy who seemed a few ciders in (one still in hand) but also clearly in charge asked if I was okay. “Are you okay” or “are you alright” is a common greeting here, kind of like “how are you,” and doesn’t imply you appear to be not-okay, the way it might back home. When I told him I was staying at Ashfield House, he pointed me to Rob the bartender, saying he’d have a table ready. Rob asked for my dinner order, noting I’d barely made it in time to get an order in (it was 5:45). No menu was offered, but luckily I already knew I wanted the veggie lasagna, along with a Sticky Toffee Porter.

While Rob poured my beer, the other guy came back and asked if I’d already had a drink on the house. Confused, I said “no…” and he explained: his dad’s funeral was today. His dad had opened the pub 17 years ago, and now he was taking it over, so everyone got a free drink that night. He added that all the beers on tap were his dad’s favorites, so I’d made a good choice. Between his accent and slightly slurred speech, it took me a second to fully process what he was telling me, and I wasn’t sure how to respond beyond “I’m sorry” and “thank you.”

I picked a table in the corner near an outlet to charge my phone. After a while, Georgette, Jimmy, and Thomas came in and were seated at the table next to mine, having already placed their order at their B&B (their host explained it’s only walkers who eat at the pub in the evening, and there’s a WhatsApp group where hosts relay guest orders by 5pm so the kitchen can cook everything together). We chatted about our days while waiting for food. They’d gotten lost too, and run out of water, and ended up knocking on someone’s door; thankfully the woman was kind and happy to help. While we talked, a woman walked by on her way out and shouted across the room to me, “you’re staying at my place! You haven’t eaten your scone yet! I’ll see you in the morning!” Again I was a bit speechless, managing only an apology for the untouched scone before she headed out to join the son and other mourners drowning their sorrows at the picnic table outside.

Finally, at 6:45, food for every table came out at once, and I moved over to sit with the Dutch family. The veggie lasagna was great, and we all got dessert: sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream for me, raspberry pavlova for each of them. I declared mine the best sticky toffee pudding I’d ever had (also, the first).

Back at the B&B, I looked for Blackberry but couldn’t find her.

Until today, I’d only walked with others for maybe 15 minutes at a time. Part of what I wanted from this trip was lots of time to myself. Honestly, I was a bit worried about how I’d handle so much alone time. For years I’ve been so focused on pleasing others and exceeding their expectations that I’ve struggled to even identify what I actually want for myself (extrinsic vs. intrinsic motivation, a distinction I picked up from a friend’s master’s thesis). Transitioning into retirement is really about finding and following my own intrinsic motivation, and this trip has been a crash course. I’m surprised at how well I’ve adjusted: fully comfortable making decisions, solving problems, working through challenges, just being alone with my thoughts. I haven’t even distracted myself by listening to music, podcasts, or audiobooks on these long walks. But today, I was genuinely grateful to have someone to walk and talk with for those last 5 or 6 miles. The oppressive heat, the seemingly endless roads and wheat fields, the sore feet, all of it would have felt a lot longer alone.