INTO THE DALES - A Northern Coast to Coast Walk: From St Bees to Robin Hood's Bay - page 79

wall with a drop to pastureland on one side and the river on the other - no place for
anyone without a good sense of balance.
On finally quitting the wall the path rejoins the riverbank for a long and delightful
trek to Reeth, finally escaping from the riverbank by a steep and slippery series of zig-
zags through scrubby Feetham Wood, following a signposted and waymarked footpath
to join the road.
Go right along the road, dodging traffic for a little over 1.5km (about 1 mile), until
it can be left at a footpath sign ('Reeth: 1¾ miles') near a small parking area on the
right. The path is seasonally overgrown for a short distance, following a fence on the
left, the river on the right, then at a stile it reaches the end of the meadow. Here it is
necessary to ford in-flowing Barney Beck, something that can be awkward after rain,
before continuing along the wooded banks of the river.
Along the road to Reeth
Finally the low-level route enters Reeth by a green path passing, but not using, a
footbridge over the Swale, leading to an enclosed path. At the top of the enclosed path
bear right, coming soon, at the first houses, onto a metalled back road. Follow this and,
as it bends left (signposted), continue to the centre of Reeth, to meet the B6270.
REETH
Once the centre of great mining activity, Reeth stands perched on a green plateau,
from which its shops, inns and cottages gaze out across the luxurious vale it com-
mands. The village was established as a forest-edge settlement, near the confluence
of the River Swale and its most important tributary, Arkle Beck - indeed, the Old
English meaning of the village's name is 'at the stream'. Holding such a strategic po-
sition, Reeth has, in recent times, acquired the title of 'capital' of Mid Swaledale.
By the early 19th century, Reeth had developed into a thriving town, expanded by
a long history of lead mining, in much the same way Cleator, not far from the start of
the walk, grew at the behest of the iron-ore industry along the Cumberland coastal
fringe. But it was, perhaps surprisingly for a place commonly associated with harsh
and rough forms of employment, almost as much the villagers' aptitude for producing
handknitted gloves, stockings and sailor caps that helped the town to develop. People
knitted whenever they could, to increase their family incomes, but the activity died
out when machinery replaced the traditional needles, and men began to wear long
trousers instead of breeches and stockings. This evocative aspect of life in Swaledale
is explained in absorbing fashion in the Swaledale Fold Museum, hidden away near a
corner of the village green.