The words Yorkshire Wolds Way had been carved into the arm of the wooden guidepost that pointed clearly up a high, grassy hill. Sam pushed her long hair out of her face, tucking her brown locks behind her ears. Her green eyes looked up the slope, meeting its challenge.
Although she was out of breath, three days of continuous walking had made climbing the hill much easier than it normally would have been.
Her lodger Jenny had been surprised when one day she had announced in the kitchen that she was taking a week off work to walk 79 miles across Yorkshire – alone.
‘Sam, are you sure?’ Jenny asked as she washed a plate at the sink. ‘That’s a long way for a woman in her 40s, and what happens if something goes wrong? You sprain your ankle, or you get lost?’
‘I’ll have my phone, and if I get lost, I’ll keep walking until I’m found again,’ Sam had joked, drying a mug with the tea towel.
Remembering that conversation with
