Breakfast isn’t served until eight, but Monia said that if we show up early there’s a good chance that we could get a cup of coffee while we wait. So we do, showing up in the dining hall surprised to see her partner Tony sitting there in the bay window enjoying his coffee and reading the news in his baby blue bathrobe. That’s the standard routine apparently, and we’ll find him at his station in his bathrobe the next two days also. We don’t mind though - what matters is his willingness to deliver our first round of coffee before he departs to get suited up for the day.
We’re a little frustrated by the late breakfast because we want to get an early start. We have a lunch reservation at La Trattoria at two, the only free appointment available when we booked it. We booked ourselves here for both today and tomorrow because it looks like the most attractive restaurant in this small town and we were afraid that we’d have trouble getting seating on the weekend of the big Steam Rally.
Unfortunately that leaves us a pretty narrow window for our activities. While waiting for breakfast though it occurs to Rachael to see if an evening slot has opened up in the meantime, and it has - exactly one, at 5. We snap it up and suddenly we have the whole day available.
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Since today’s weather promises to be the best of the two layover days we have here in Helmsley we each prioritize our activity choices and pick the one we most want to get in. For Rachael, that’s a hike to nearby Rievaulx Abbey, only three miles west of here. In fact we biked right past it yesterday but didn’t stop in to see it, each thinking we’d make our way back one way or another.
It’s an attraction with an admission fee, which Rachael knew going in and was assuming she’d pay when she arrived but in the end she chose not to because she could get a reasonable look from the outside and thought she’d rather continue exploring the walking trails rather than mingling with the weekend crowds.
She packed her shots from her walk into a slideshow, and since there was still some free space at the bottom she threw in photos of tractors and other steam powered vehicles to fill it up.
____________________ Since I won’t be watching any rowing regatta events here I decide the next best thing is to make an excursion into North York Moors National Park that begins right at the edge of town. Its a huge, sprawling park that covers a good chunk of northeast England and we’ll be in or near it several times in the coming days so we might as well include a map for context:
There are few paved roads penetrating the park from this direction but the natural ride is the one marked as a cycle route on RideWithGPS. Looking at the map above, it’s a a slender oval that circles Hodge Beck, climbing the narrow ridge to its left and then crossing the beck (beck = a mountain stream) roughly where Round Hill is marked on the map before turning back south along the ridge to the east. At Kirbymoorside I turn west and back toward Helmsley in the gentle landscape of the Vale of Pickering.
It’s a spectacular ride nearly the whole way. There’s very little traffic so most of the time it’s just me, the sheep, and the purple heather that’s just starting to bloom. Way better than sitting around watching some dumb regatta.
The ride starts with a gradual climb up to Carlton, a village in the Helmsley Moor.
I took this photo of Low Farm, thinking Polly might recognize it. As I climbed through Carlton though I came next to Middle Farm and then High Farm and realized I must have had the wrong concept.
Not far past Carlton there’s a steep drop to a branch of the Rical River, where I leave Helmsley Moor. It’s not a surprise that there’s just as steep a grade climbing out the other side.
I can see that it’s still early in the blooming season. It really is beautiful now but it must be overwhelming in a few weeks when it blankets the moors.
There are three varieties of heather that grow in the park. This one with its characteristic dark purple hue is bell heather. It looks like it must be the first to blossom.
Looking east across the ridge. Hodge Beck must be in the depression beyond it. That’s not my road today, btw - I’m on pavement the whole way - but it looks seductive.
This is the up half of the crossing. Or maybe it’s the down half, and I’m looking back at it. I can’t tell for sure. Maybe I should start geotagging my photos.
And I really like this of course. I’ve been seeing a few lapwings but one finally lands close enough to me for a shot that shows its iridescent colors.
I’m stopped watching that lapwing when he pulls to a stop beside me. Partly to make sure I’m OK, but also to let me know that there’s a bridge out ahead (it must be the one crossing Hodge Beck), but that I can get around it with a bike.
Yellow loosestrife! I don’t know that I’ve seen this plant before. It’s interesting to see that it’s not related to purple loosestrife, the plant that gives all the purple color to Oaks Bottom in the summer.
Scott AndersonTo Rachel and Patrick HugensHey, you too! I hope it was as great for you as it was for us (spoiler alert). Reply to this comment 1 month ago
