Ascent: 450m
Weather: overcast with a few spots of rain, turning sunnier and warmer.
I slept quite well lest night apart from the tv in the next room and someone snoring and, rather unexpectedly, cuckoos. This last one was dismissed as a dream.
We left Appleton village around back of the fancy (and fancily named) Dweldapilton Hall, down a stony track with big hedges on either side. It was much cooler this morning, which necessitated a quick stop after not a short time to change tops and put my fleece on. We hadn't gone far when we met some sheep, nibbling the hedges.
Turning right through a gate with an unusual latch and on to bridleway though middle of a field, there were lapwings and curlews. As the path neared some tall trees we saw and heard a murder of crows making a right racket, the path becoming steeper narrower and more horsey down to a gate and into pretty Hutton le Hole.
After yesterday's lunch issues, we decided it would be wise to buy some supplies at the village shop here.
There was a very narrow kissing gate that people with quite big bags only just fitted into and we followed some other walkers for a while but they soon turned a different way. A wet , muddy little bridge led on to fields, with snoozy belted galloway cows and swallows and swifts. Up the lane to cattlegrid, we got cropsprayed again and saw a weasel legging it into a hole. It probably didn't want spraying either.
We walked through the villages of Gillamoor (pub opened at 12 and we decided not to wait) and Fadmoor (pub closed completely) and up a quiet lane, well quiet apart from a vintage motorbike buzzing around, to a tree lined lane signed to Sleightholme Dale only and down track to Hold Cauldron.
Coming to a bridge near the old converted mill, we saw a deer up the path ahead of us. As we went up the hill (steep!) we could hear it moving in the woods but didn't see it again.
Getting to the top there were lots of orchids, also lady's mantle and yellow archangel. Here we heard a cuckoo. There was then a debate about whether cuckoos sing (cuck?) in the middle of the night, and it turns out that they do. Sometimes - there is an old rhyme according to wikipedia. Or maybe it was a dream afterall. The footpath led out through a field and onto Skiplam Road, which was long and straight and there was nowhere to stop or sit down for ages and my tummy was rumbling - but at least the sun came out.
We passed a big posh house and then went through a tiny, damp little copse the was full of flies. A bit further on we had a sit by the edge of field and ate our sandwiches, watching hares lollopping about. Crossing more fields and woods, we came out in little valley with a farm and jacob's sheep. Heading down the sheep field to a little stream, we crossed a footbridge and into woods full of bluebells. We had a sit on Bob's bench and admired the flowers and ants, and then were off again, up a blumming steep path. Rob saw a deer, but it had gone by the time he turned to point it out to me. The track goes between Carlton Park Wood and fields full of hares and pheasants. I have an itchy ankle and hope I've not been bitten.
The track goes along the bottom of Ash Dale, a wooded valley with many flies, flowers and a woodpigeon chorus. We also witnessed a mountain biker nearly falling off in the mud. He looked a bit embarrassed. The sound of church bells brought us into Helmsley - we walked through the village past the market cross where the Tabular Hills Walk ends and the Cleveland Way will begin tomorrow.
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