No matter how remote, from tranquil woodland to moor and mountain, every inch of the English countryside is owned by someone, and the only legal access, without prior permission, is along the ancient paths and trackways, known as 'Rights of Way'. Sadly, many miles of public footpaths and bridleways disappear every year, and are often ploughed up, illegally re-routed, or obstructed by gates and barbed-wire. Allowing access, and maintaining stiles, is the responsibility of the landowner, but stiles are often left broken, neglected, or strewn with barbed-wire. Unfortunately, we were to encounter many such stiles in the following miles of our walk. Typically, they weren't stiles at all, but just a small gap in a hawthorn hedge, allowing narrow access to a four-foot fence, which had to be precariously scaled
Crossing the first two obstacles, we eventually made it to the high-steepled church of Saint Barnabas, close to the old village of Weeton, which today is no more than a cluster of houses, with not so much as a pub or post office remaining.
After pausing for a short rest in the small churchyard, we continued on our journey in the hot sunshine, passing through Weeton, and what was once its school, and into a collection of stables. The path led us past large gardens, and through more fields, before it began to climb, with increasing steepness, uphill. We noted that a new fence had diverted the footpath from its original, more gentle, route.
At the summit of our walk, we enjoyed fine views of the surrounding countryside, before beginning the long descent back to Rougemont, where I lit my twig-stove again, and we had some ramen noodles and miso to replace the salt lost during our hill-climb.
After some more slingshot practice in the woods, we retraced our earlier steps along the banks of the Wharfe, and after another steep climb, found sanctuary in a pub, where that first pint didn't touch the sides!