Day 5: Great North Loop - Thick int' arm and think int' head

It was grim when I awoke atop the moors. The wind was blowing a fine mist of rain sidewards across the bleak landscape.

Id seen some graffiti yesterday and it made me laugh:  Welcome to Yorkshire,  some southerners are welcome.
Given the current conditions I thought only the brave or the stupid need apply.

I backtracked to Kirkby Stephen to join the TET where I'd left it yesterday and continued following the little markers on the GPS. My little invisible road to no where fast.

It wasn't raining, but the fine mist of water continued to gust sidewards over the hills. I stopped to talk to a walker who, in a broad accent, said 'its bloody challenging today'
I liked his attitude, to others it would mean staying in, to a wild moors man, it was a challenge.

Of all the days on the road so far the Dales have the most abundant trail network. In the wet they are very challenging (as the hiker had suggested) and I had my first off on slimy rock. The wheel slid one way, I went the other.

Again, I was thankful of my bike choice. It was light, I picked up my steed and continued on.

I came across two bikers on AJP7's, a kind of rally styled bike, heavier than my orange mount. The riders were blowing like fat red whales and I helped one pick his bike off the ground.

The bikes were new and the riders quick to point out that the AJP7 is ideal for the TET, just not 'that' hill.

I kept my comments to myself, but having spent five days riding the TET I knew there were dozens of hills like 'that' hill.  Weight is everything when you travel alone.

I popped a leg over my ride and disappeared with the agility of mountain goat leaving the beached porpoises to enjoy their perfect bikes.

Whilst riding a path through a field I came to an abrupt stop when said path turned into a river. I decided i'd ride to the right where some other vehicle tracks could be seen.

Little did I know, but within three minutes I'd be sunk to the belly pan in a marsh. The bike stood up without support glued into the sodden land. I fell over when my boots sank and enjoyed a quick, wet, dirt nap.

I had to lift and drag each end of the bike to firmer ground. If I'd been on a bigger bike I might have had to call for help.

How I love thee Yorkshire.

Below you can see Reeth village from one of the lanes that climbs the hill. It looks beautiful.
The verdant fields resembling a patch work carpet that just stops at the moorland, like the fitter thought 'nah, that bits too difficult' and finished for the day.

Lanes forever and cows with massive weapons on their heads.

Which way?  Deadmans hill? Perhaps not...

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A magnificent Victorian reservoir, built at a time when men were men and woman ruled.

I stayed at the Black Swan in Fearby, a great old pub with a campsite! My favourite combination.

Today's progress. Blues are the starting points and orange the end. I've completed 900kms so far.