Guisborough to Staithes: E2 Day 66

A very misty day on which I reached the North Sea and walked along the top of high cliffs.

Guisborough high street, where I found my breakfast, looked part of a typical rural, market town, in contrast to nearby Middlesbrough. Of ancient foundation its ruined priory (closed while I was in town) dated from the 12th century. Three kilometres away I rejoined the Cleveland Way at the point I had left it yesterday.

After some woods I crossed a busy road which was taking advantage of a gap in the hills, then began a steep climb up steps to the next ridge. This took me into cloud, and I spent most of the day enclosed in white, wet mist. A track through open fields led to Skelton Green and shortly after Skelton-in-Cleveland, where there was a café, conveniently placed by the Cleveland Way to serve me coffee and cake. 

The path then took me down the steep valley of Skelton Beck and under the red brick, Saltburn railway viaduct. Looking up from the footbridge over the brook the arches looked enormous, the masonry piers edged with yellow lichen below brick towers becoming increasingly slender as they rose higher, an elegant piece of Victorian engineering. 

Saltburn railway viaduct.

Saltburn sits on a shoulder above the end of the glen. The Cleveland Way skirts this seaside town, crossing the valley by the beach before climbing steeply up steps the other side to begin its 51 mile trip along the coast to its terminal at Filey. Some may idly think that coast paths do not involve much climbing there being no mountains. In this they are mistaken. While the Cleveland Way is not the roller coast ride of parts of the South West Coast Path, there are a number of steep climbs as it drops down into a valley only to climb up the other side. From the high ground I could look down on Saltburn pier and the waves of muddy water building up offshore before sweeping in to attack the coast. Following the steep climb out of Saltburn the path was nearly level for several miles, running close to the edge of the high cliffs. Notices left by "Paul" with motivating messages and the telephone number of the Samaritans suggested it was a popular spot for those wishing to end their life by jumping off the cliff. There was a message to Liam from his little sister telling him how much he will be missed, and that she hoped he was having a good time in heaven. It brought tears to my eyes.

View back to Saltburn before all was hidden by mist.

For a while the path ran between the cliff edge and a single track railway line. I was glad that when the railway squeezed the path against the steep drop, there was a fence to prevent you accidentally slipping over. Two metal sculptures added interest as they appeared in the mist.

A sculpture on the Cleveland Way. 

In time the path dropped down into Skinningrove via a long beach where a couple braved the wet wind to walk their dogs. A large breakwater was connected to the remains of a ramp, remnants of when iron ore was mined in the Cleveland Hills and shipped out from the harbour. In the village, up the valley a little, there was a mining museum. However I stayed by the sea, skirting the line of wind blown houses and small, aging fishing boats. Another steep climb followed to regain the high ground. Even after the first steep ascent the path continued to climb rising up over now abandoned alum quarries, invisible in the mist below me. All I could see from my cliff top path was a vertical rock face dropping down to my left, topped with loose turf. In some places, a thick layer of clay topped the rock strata so that the ground below the cliff top was merely very steep, wet and unstable rather than actually vertical. The wind was coming in strong gusts and I was glad it was blowing onshore rather than trying to push me off the cliff into white emptiness.

In time the path began to descend. A metal table with a metal miner stood beside the path, and I joined him for a rest. The sculpture was a reference to the Boulby mine which was excavating the evaporite sediments left by an ancient sea. Its tunnels extended deep (up to 1400 metres) beneath me and out under the sea. Formerly mining potash the main product is now polyhalite, a mineral used as a fertiliser. 

My tired feet were glad to reach Staithes, an attractive old village squashed into a steep valley around a harbour. I was less happy when I discovered my room for the night was in a pub, a steep climb up the road in a more recent part of the village. However the room is large and warm, with dinner a few steps down the stairs.

Staithes.