Walking (and riding) Coast to Coast

Dan and I have done many biking trips -- see posts from past years -- and this was our first walking trip, with an extremely well-organized Stanford Alumni Association group and a wonderful tour provider. The locale was the UK Coast to Coast Walk in northern England, a path that is very well known to serious walkers. Taking only a week, our group's route was far less than the roughly 180-mile ~standard walk; we covered around 60-70 miles total, depending on whose GPS, pedometer, iPhone app, or Fitbit was consulted. We had luxurious bus transportation when not walking, and we walked in some territory that's not on the standard route as well. (I don't think Grasmere, the one-time home of William Wordsworth, is on the trail, but we were there.)  I'd call the trip A Variation On The UK Coast to Coast Walk myself, to avoid criricism from purists.

There were 30 people in the group, about twice the size of our previous trips, but everyone was punctual and pleasant, and none of our worries about endless delays came true. Almost everyone had been on a Stanford trip before, and gave them very high marks -- well deserved this time also. Most of the group came from the Bay Area, including two women who live about two blocks from us on Dolores. 

I don't know the definition of "hike," but I think it's a better word than "walk" for much of our on-foot travel during the week. Some parts were boggy, we had one descent on loose rocks, and some trails just went straight up -- but it was all manageable, with the help of our trusty hiking sticks on occasion.

Like most people, we walked from west to east, starting on Monday the 22nd at St. Bee's Head, on the coast of the Irish Sea:

and we ended on Saturday the 27th at Robin Hood's Bay, on the coast of the North Sea:

It's traditional to dip one's boots into the water in both seas, so here are mine at St. Beè's:

The photo at Robin Hod's Bay looks the same.

Along the way, we saw many sheep, a few cows, more sheep, fewer horses, more sheep, and no pigs. 

The route goes through some private land, and in some cases right past people's homes. Though we saw no vegetable gardens, there were many flower gardens, some of them spectacular. The wildflowers were also beautiful. On one afternoon, we must have crossed about fifteen meadows, bounded by stone walls with very skinny gates.

We were lucky with the weather; though it was often windy, we had very little rain or bad fog. Every day included various scenic turnout points, ranging from rocky riverbanks to spectacular vistas.

I have lots more, but it can become a chant of grass, sheep, stone, and yet another fine view. So instead, here are a few signs that I liked:

Now I'm not sure who is being directed or informed by this:

and finally, a road sign for a town I may not want to live in: