Hole of Horcum Loop

The forecast has been everything but a plague of frogs, and at six thirty, we’re certainly getting caught up with rain; however, by nine it’s commuted to grey sky and a simmering threat, so waterproofs are packed and made easily accessible in the rucksack.

The drive to Levisham is beautiful even if you’re not out for a walk. The Coastliner bus uses this route on its journey from Leeds to Whitby or Scarborough, and it’s quite rightly reputed to be the most picturesque bus journey in the country. 

We pass the ‘new’ early warning station that made a controversial appearance thirty-odd years ago. The ‘old’ early warning station was housed in the iconic golf balls, and they had a similar reception in 1963. Nobody wanted them when they were built because they were an eyesore, then no one wanted them demolished in 1994 because they were an icon. You just can’t please some folks!

We wriggle our way past the Hole of Horcum, it’s a fabulous view and it’s where we’ll be in a couple of hours. Only then we’ll be on foot.

Twenty minutes later, we arrive at Levisham. It’s an unbelievably pretty village that’s beautifully kept by the locals. The village greens and kerbside grass are immaculately trimmed, and there’s a church that’s well maintained. We discover to our delight that it’s open. Inside, it has hand-knit kneelers and cushions together with pews that look so good we search for a carved mouse but there’s none to be seen. 

Outside again and the final asset to a vibrant village and community is the pub. The Horseshoe Inn is a 19th C coaching inn and looks fabulous. We check the menu and it looks great with prices the top end of middling, we resolve to return and have a meal there.

The village is worth a visit in its own right, but we’re transient today and Roger is calling us to order ready for a nine or ten miler around and about the periphery of the Hole of Horcum. 

Fifty years ago we used this valley, or rather, more accurately, its ridges, for hang gliding. In those years, it was in its infancy and we built the kites ourselves using aluminium tubing, rip-stop nylon and aviation-grade wire. If we were lucky we could find a ridge that had the wind blowing (not too strongly) against it. We’d strap ourselves in and, with the help of a couple of trusted friends holding down each edge of the sail area, we’d choose an appropriate moment and shout, “Let go!” and we’d start running towards the edge. As the wind got under the sail, we’d be airborne and with a bit of luck and a lot of skill we’d fly the thing down to the valley below and land safely without hitting telegraph poles, high voltage wiring, hedges, trees or ditches. 

The fact that I’m writing this now is testimony to the fact that we usually got it right and there was only the occasional casualty. These memories are surfacing as we set off at a brisk pace towards Keldgate Wood and the path following the contour down towards Newtondale. 

It’s a beautiful day and the valley is well coloured with white may blossom and gorse, which is still brilliant yellow after over two months of constant display. Towards the bottom, we turn right and follow a narrow path that clings to the ridge and shares its purpose as a storm drain in heavy rain. We welcome the top out of breath and happy that the first trial is over so we relax into a brisk but much easier walk across the moor to Dundale Pond. 

As we arrive at the pond, we’re treated to the sight of some highland cattle looking like water buffalo splodging knee deep in the mud. We pause to take in this delightful scene and record it with mobile phone and camera. 

We turn left and begin the slow ascent over the moor. It’s bleak and beautiful at the same time and a perfect place for a banana break and chat.

Ten minutes on and we’re back on the track heading towards the head of the sinisterly named Hallows Dike, where we turn back on ourselves to pick our way carefully down the path into the valley. Most of the valley walking is easy, with the occasional narrowing of the path to negotiate the higher-than-comfortable banks of Levisham Beck.

As the track levels off (temporarily), we pass through a gate and are greeted with a new finger pole indicating Levisham in a direction that we haven’t been before, so the decision is made to take the new route. The path undulates and snakes through wonderful woodland where the birds are at full volume and the smells of the blossom and wood create a priceless communion of sensual overload. It’s a great way to walk the final mile and we arrive back into Levisham at the bottom of the village, which allows us to appreciate just how beautiful it is as we pass through to reach our parked cars.

This is a great walk, but it is challenging at times.

Enjoy the snaps.

Love G and L xx