Up at 6.45 and took the opportunity offered by hot water to have a careful shave. Breakfast at 8.15 was very good. Egg, bacon, sausage, beans, bread and butter, toast, marmalade, cornflakes and plenty of milk. All of which I scoffed. I walked then into the town, did some shopping, including an excellent waterproof holder for my guide, and checked bus times. Too late for the 10.05, so packed leisurely, paid my bill (£7) and caught the 11.05. Just as I was boarding the bus another bus arrived and out of it stepped my kilted friend. We exchanged a few words. He was going to stay here for a while. At 11.30 I began walking from Oak Tree Hill. The rain had ceased at 9am but it was very damp and misty and the whole landscape was sodden, so I took the alternative road route to Sydal Lodge, wearing my wet gear (my boots and socks still wet from yesterday) and glad not to be struggling across pathless fields and getting lost continually in them. However I did go astray, adding an extra mile or two to my total, and was eventually directed by an unsmiling young farmer, to East Harsley Farm which was a quiet road to Ingleby Arncliffe. I called at the village store at East Harsley and a reluctant Yorkshireman sold me a pint of milk and a pie. All across this stretch from Richmond I had been strongly impressed by the slightly surly, unwelcoming, unsympathetic attitude of the people I met and was reminded of reports from the past painting these Yorkshire people just as I found them today! Arrived at Ingleby Cross, still going well and paused in the porch of the tiny church to sit on the dry paving and have a snack. On setting out again could not find my stick. Could have sworn I stood it up against the wall of the porch. Concluded that God had confiscated it as a punishment for my sacrilegious use of the porch. A long, easy climb up through forestry now, where I cut a new stick and met two lads going the other way. Warned them about their next 23miles. Here my path joined the Cleveland Way and the Lyke Wake Walk, being now on the North York Moors and Cleveland Hills. Went slightly astray at the top of the wood. Should have followed the Cleveland Way sign and not gone through the gate into the field. However I knew roughly where to go and after climbing a couple of fences was soon back on the right track, still tramping through thick mist. After the forest passed through pleasant green pastures. Saw a beautiful spot for a camp but, knew there was a telephone box ½mile ahead, continued. At the box I rang home and it began to rain heavily. Pressed on uphill through forest again and a mile or so later found a smooth grass patch over a gate marked "Private Forest - Keep Out" - and pitched my tent still in pouring rain. I rather anticipated a cold night, but, with dry pullover over wet shirt and dry socks on my feet - all in a dry sleeping bag, and with my inner door shut, it was surprising how warm and snug I soon became.