|The Hornsea Rail Trail, a few miles out of Hull|
· ibuprofen and paracetamol
· Drinks: over 500ml water in bladder, 500ml chia charge drink in bottle
· Food for run: chia charge flapjack, chia charge trail mix, banana chips, chocs from Christmas supply, clementine
I live just under 2m south of the outskirts of Hull, but backing on to the Hornsea rail trail, which is a godsend quick link to the countryside for a trail-preferring runner like myself. The path follows the old track bed of the Hull to Hornsea railway and is now hard path for a few miles out of Hull before it turns to cinder-path. As I passed under road bridges, crossed minor roads and passed dog-walkers in the initial suburban miles I checked my pack fit was good and adjusted clothing to comfort.
Towards the edge of Hull my baselayer and windjacket combination was feeling a little warm, but not so warm I wanted to take off the jacket. I knew I needed longer to get comfortable and see how the winds out of town effected me, so should leave the jacket on. So I rolled-up the sleeves a bit pulled the zip down and got on with it. For the kit geeks out there I was wearing/carrying:
|One of the old railway station platforms on-route|
· Buff (pirate style)
|A rare uphill on route at New Ellerby|
Not long after New Ellerby near the old Sigglesthorne station – distinguishable as a few of the old station on route are by still having platform edges at side of the path – came the end of known route for me. Looking for a left turn to a series paths I didn’t know, which would take me to my destination. The turn came and it wasn’t promising, crossing a stream on a bridge which had a felled tree laying across it I had to manoeuvre through the branches of – not a good start, hopefully not a sign of things to come! Then it was my first brief bit of mud following a field edge in an arc away from and almost back onto the path I’d just left, before rejoining roads through a hamlet called Goxhill.
A few more fields edged or crossed now, some quite thick mud where I probably worried some tentative walkers as I barrelled past them in sucking, ankle deep stuff. I then passed into a wooded outcrop and over a fallow field to arrive at Seaton – Hornsea Mere remained just out of view to my right, which was a shame. Edging Seaton I hit a farm track heading north. It was about the best part of the morning now, the sun was out and the wind wasn’t much in evidence. I was feeling very happy to be here doing this. But my tranquillity was soon shunted as I passed a farmhouse and was persued by aggresive dogs for a while, probably harmless, but one of them was confident enough to dive at and nip close to my legs. I accept this kind of thing as an occupational hazard, you can’t expect rural homes to tie up their dogs all day just to suit the rare passer-by on routes like this such as myself.
|Hitting Beach at Fraisthorpe Sands|
The route bounced around unusually shaped field-edges at this point and I got to a hedge with a gap and what might have been a downed bridge over a ditch. There was no footpath sign here so it was going to be guess work if I should cross here or follow a similar line this side of the ditch. In the end my desire not to wade the ditch made me decide to keep following the field edge this side. I got going again, but soon enough ran out of path so back-tracked slightly to find a place to jump the ditch now there was no blocking hedge. I’d probably gone wrong, but not far wrong, but the stops to check route had punctured my good-going bubble. No biggee though, I wasn’t in a hurry and I soon came back onto minor road through Dunnington. Following a zig-zag minor road I was passed by a fast group of cyclists who I reckon were having as much fun as I was on these quiet roads.
I soon came upon Skipsea, but didn’t pass through, instead crossing the damp field past Skipsea castle – which I’d seen on the map, but had never been to before and had me wondering. In reality all that remains is the motte (hill/mound) the castle would have stood on and the earthworks looping around that probably formed the defences. Thankfully I didn’t see the ghostly ‘lady in white’ that haunts the hill – she probably kept away more scared of me than I would be of her. Reality was soon very much restored as I past a sewage works.
I was soon back on road briefly and passing through Ulrome. Pausing to picture the unusual – or so I thought at the time, doesn’t look so much from the picture – clock tower on the church. Over a large field and across a wide drainage channel on a wooden bridge brought me to Barmston and within short distance of the coast for the first time. I turned right down the main village road and then left back onto rural path, just a short distance before this road abruptly ends where land – and a holiday park – has been eroded by the sea at a rapid-pace.
I rounded one of the biggest hills I’d see on route @26metres or 85ft above sea-level. The challenge today was more the terrain than the hills – I’d only ascend 425ft in total on route. I then arrived at a dike which impeded onward progress and made me turn east to finally join the coast at Fraisthorpe Sands – a naturist beach, but too cold for “action” today.
|The Sun always shines in Brid|
I now turned north for the last leg on clifftop, beach and then clifftop again. Plenty of people were about now on the long stretch of good clean sand south of Bridlington. I passed another Holiday village and park-and-ride - very much empty today – and was gathering pace as I hit the south promenade. I gave passers by a comedy minute or so as I dropped a cereal bar packet and then chased it as it was blown along consistently just faster than I was running, but in the same direction. Every time I raised speed to catch it and stamp on it, I couldn’t stop dead on tired legs to pick it up, so it blew on past me again. At about the fourth or fifth attempt and about 300 yards I finally got it. I wonder if anybody did more than me that day in Brid to Keep Britain tidy?
|Post run facilities, changing on the right (WC), food on the left, mmmmmm :)|