Keïteï Ventures

I’m up late as the pine trees cocoon me in a lovely dark sleep and I’m away by 6am which is considered late. En route to Middleton, I follow the footpath through overgrown,tall grass and my feet get soaked as I go. Arriving with good time, the Co-op is open (for 7am) and I head in, eager to resupply. I probably didn’t need to resupply but I am happy all the same 🙂 I hike up and out into the moors, following the contours of the hillside as it leads me up and down. Thankfully it’s a gentle amble as I go.

Enclosing on a farm, the gate has an arrow and the words trail magic in bold. I get excited and follow the sign, eager for magic and curious to see British trail magic. And boy, they weren’t kidding, the trail magic is epic and laid out magnificently. Half of a barn has been devoted to this magic complete with a kettle (any hot drink you desire is there), a mini fridge with cold drinks and snacks, (ice creams in the freezer compartment). A long table with a jazzy cloth is (neatly) rammed with 20 plastic tubs fill of different goodies (sweet and savoury), fizzy cans, fruit drink cartons and water bottles are lined up ready for any weary hiker to drain. A thoughtful bin, considerate hand sanitiser and an assortment of chairs sit encouragingly. A donation box and mini trail register sits at the end. And to top it off a cat waltzes in and plonks itself down on my lap. If I hadn’t resupplied in Middleton, I could have enjoyed snacks galore here. Sitting down, I swap out my wet socks and stroke the friendly cat in hiker heaven.

Knowing I can’t hang around, I plod on and ascend into the moors again. Two female thru-hikers appear and I tell them of the trail magic that awaits. I follow a path and hike along moorland listening to a podcast on writing. I don’t often listen to music or podcasts but I do appreciate them for trying sections where the hiking is monotonous. This was one of those sections. It eventually ends at Tan Hill, the highest pub in England. Crossing the road, I trotted on and found myself in Keld. A tiny hamlet located in the Yorkshire Dales and one which I was finding myself drawn to. I’d hiked the Herriot way in 2023 and first encountered this remote village then. The Coast to Coast brought me through here again in 2024 and here I was again, passing through it.

Descending into the sleepy hollow, a tall hiker appeared and we nodded as we passed, both feeling it was too late in the day to descend into hiker chit-chat now. I pondered if he was doing the Pennine way or the Coast to coast and heard the gate I’d just enter through clang shut answering my question. By now, it was getting very late in the day and my feet were calling for a trouse. Looking to my Fitbit I see that I’ve hiked over 70,000 steps and it feels like it.

The way leads me up to the top of a valley and I can see down into the river below. Due to the shape of the area, my path is the only flat bit as either side of me is steep and rocky. I peer over stone walls for any hopes of a flat bed but find none. 7pm comes and goes and I’m still hiking, I break clear of the trees and know I’m getting close to the next village. Thankfully a flat section of grass mowed short by the abundance of rabbits sails into view and I’m saved. I wolf down half a packet of chocolate digestives and rest my feet. The soft grass feels amazing as I rub my feet over it. Hoping that no one else will be walking this path – I was pretty much right next to the trail – I begin to pitch my tent. Though I like to think that anyone passing through here this late wouldn’t have cared. Zipping my tent closed, I snuggle down into my sleeping bag and sigh a contented sigh pleased to be done with the day.