Today’s post is 1600 words, 27 photos, a 7 minute read. Enjoy!
Hi everyone,
This week, I’ll take you down the Herriot Way on our second day of walking from our lodging at the Butt House in Keld along the River Swale to the lively village of Reeth, a distance of 12 miles. According to my journal, “the walk was outstanding – the beauty, the easy paths, the river, the birds. A memorable walk.”
If you missed the first eight stories in this series about our time in Scotland and England, click here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.
Keld to Reeth (Low Route)
I began Day 2 with a lot of optimism, I felt great, all the aches and pains accumulated from the previous day of walking magically disappeared overnight. I was ready to take on the day and so was my Traveling Partner and The Youngest. Since we were near the trailhead this morning, neither Chris or Jacqui had to transport us, they just had to point the way.
Before taking you on the walk, I should point out there are two walking routes to reach Reeth. The High Route, as the name implies, has a significant elevation change up to the less striking landscape (at least that is what we were told) of the Gunnerside Moor. The trail takes walkers up the hills then through the ruins of the lead mining industry that was once prevalent in the North Yorkshire Dales. Today, the High Route is known for grouse hunting. The upside of the High Route is that it is about a mile shorter (11 miles) than the Low Route (12 miles).
The Low Route has less elevation change, in fact we began the walk at one of the high points. After that, the trail is fairly level most of the way to Reeth.
When we set off, we thought we went the wrong way so climbed back up to get on the right path. We discovered later that either route would have worked. Anyway, I turned and took a photo looking back up at the Butt House.
The Swaledale countryside is stunningly beautiful, with the river leisurely weaving through the valley with lush green pastures filled with sheep and cows.
Along the way, there is a waterfall or two that make a dramatic entrance to the river.
Sometimes we walked on a path close to the river, at other times the path took us up a hillside for a wide-angle look.
The paths on the Low Route varied. Some were quite well-marked and improved, while others were littered with rocks and tree roots hid on top of the trail waiting to snag a foot of a unattentive walker. Some paths took us to an old stone bridges to cross the water. I wondered how long these paths have been in use, some looked to be ancient. I can imagine a farmer in the 1700s herding his sheep to pasture along one of these trails. Or maybe walking into the village with his family for supplies, church services, or a pint at the local pub. My mind tends to wander as I walk along in cadence with my arms swinging the hiking poles ahead.
Occasionally we came across a place of historic significance such as the Great Rampsholme cowhouse. This barn was restored by the Yorkshire Dales National Park Authority using traditional methods. This and other barns are important to preserve history and tell the story of the North Yorkshire Dales. I thought it bit ironic that there were sheep guarding the Cowhouse rather than a herd of Jersey cows.
Later in the walk, we saw this large barn on the hillside. We wondered if there were living quarters on one side and a barn on the other. 
We walked very close to these sheep. They didn’t move and were not about to give up their spot in the natural shelter of the trees along the river.
In addition to the many sheep, we did walk through a pasture occupied by a couple of grazing horses. Work horses were an essential part of Dales life. Not only did they provide a mode of transportation but they were important during the planting, haying, and harvest season. In addition, horses were critical to the success of lead, coal, and iron ore mining. 
The sun was shining and the birds were celebrating the Spring day. Meet Anton, pictured below. We had a nice chat about the River Swale and the songs of the birds. As I recall, he lived in nearby Richmond and comes to the Dales to walk one of the many trails. As we were talking, a farmer on the other side of the river drove his ATV followed by a border collie to the pasture to check the sheep. It was a minor disturbance to the quiet of the path and the sound of happy birds.
Gunnerside
It was lunch time when we reached the village of Gunnerside, population about 200. Our guidebook pointed us to the small town square with three benches (in the photo below) as a place to shed our backpacks for respite and eat lunch. Two of three benches were occupied by a group of teenagers on a backpacking trip. It appeared they were accompanied by a slightly older person as their guide/chaperone. Before they moved on, one of the girls complained bitterly about her father calling him “the worst.” I had to hold my tongue from lashing out at her, I didn’t know her or her father but thought it inappropriate of her to whinge (British for bellyaching) about him in public. It was nice and quiet after they left. Soon a chicken joined us to peck at the crumbs left behind. I didn’t share with her that I was eating an egg salad sandwich. One local villager had a table of plants for sale and another, a cooler with 1/2 dozen eggs for sale, maybe from the same chicken that was pecking away at our feet.
A bit of historical trivia about Gunnerside. This village is thought to have given its name to a famous World War II sabotage by Allied troops of a heavy water production plant in Norway. This slowed the German development of nuclear weapons. The team that carried out the operation in 1943 trained nearby.
The center of this village is the Kings Head Public House. It’s community owned and offers lunches and dinners in addition to pints of beer and drams of whisky.
After a stop at the public restrooms (20 pence or 25¢ US), we were back on the trail to Reeth.
Along this part of the trail, we crossed a number of bridges, most of them made of stone. Below is one of the photos I took of one of those bridges.
During this part of the walk, we were passed by a spry, older English gentleman. Further up the trail, we passed him as he rested, then he would pass us again. This happened a couple of times. In the photo below, notice the stile (a narrow slit in a wall to allow people to pass through, not domestic animals) in the left side of the bridge. The gentleman came up behind us just as we got to the stile. He told us that he had to get to Reeth to catch the bus so needed to hurry along. We yielded to him to pass through the very narrow stile ahead of us. As he went up the three steps and squeezed through the stile, he remarked: “This stile must be sponsored by Weight Watchers!” It was the funniest thing we heard during our four-day walk. He was right, it was so narrow we had to remove our backpacks to squeeze our American sized butts through this stile. 
The last bridge we crossed before reaching Reeth is called the “swinging bridge.” This name is a carry over for an old bridge actual swinging bridge that was washed out in a flood many years ago. The new foot bridge doesn’t swing but had slight bounce as we crossed. Note that the River Swale is wider here, that appears to be because it’s quite shallow and there were recent rains.
After crossing the bridge, we had to take a diversion to reach the village. A heavy rain a few years ago washed out part of the footpath so we had to divert an extra 1/2 mile to go around the closure.
Reeth
As we walked into the village of Reeth, population about 700, we were greeted by a group of walkers that stayed at the Butt House the previous night. They walked the High Route and said they enjoyed the walk, even the steep climb to the Moors. They were having a pint at The Buck, one of three pubs on the town square. I called Jacqui for our ride back to the Butt House and then ordered a half-pint while my Traveling Partner and The Youngest checked out a couple of nearby shops. There was a lot of activity in Reeth, it’s a popular place for mountain biking as well as walking holidays. 
Reeth is particularly proud of their town square that slopes down to the village church.
Back at the Butt House, we had another enjoyable dinner around the dining room table. On this night, there were four fellows that enjoyed their meal in addition to a number of drinks. There was also a woman from Canada and a young English woman doing the Coast-to-Coast, an 18-day, 200 mile walk. We were regaled with tales from the trail and added a few of our own.
The main landmark in Keld is the red phone box just up from the Butt House. Here’s my attempt at a night photograph through the window of our room.
That does it for this week. Join me next week for Day 3 when we walk up then down the Great Shuner Fell.
Until then, happy travels!
Tom
PS: Click here for a link to the post about my book “Farm Boy.” Contact me if you are interested in purchasing a copy. Thanks to all have plunked down your hard earned dollars and read the book. TM