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Hovingham’s bakery and tearoom made a good start for this walk. We sat outside with bikers, walkers and pushchair pushers and took tea and pecan nut tasties; the normally clear beck was muddy.

The first couple of miles were so easy, tracks smooth through the flatlands with hedges rich each side with hazel, elder, thorn, ivy and field maple that had a red tint. Occasionally an ash or oak cast a pool of midday shadow, Through gaps we saw south to the Howardian Hills and then north to the rise of Caulkleys Bank. This bank has the steep hairpin bend of road between Hovingham and Nunnington, but later on, by the time we got to its eastern end it was much diminished.

The land is all arable, mostly wheat, pale golden yellow, perhaps the loveliest of the main crops, and begging for a weather break and the harvester.

All was going well, though it was a bit of shock to see a big barrelled bird scarer positioned next to the footpath. Luckily it was not banging off. And then a bit of irritation at a field path that was overgrown, had not been reinstated by the farmer, but it wasn’t tricky.

Holbeck looks like a drainage ditch on the OS map, it was brimming, speeding the rainwater to Malton. After the bridge over the beck the ground steepens for a gentle climb up Caulkleys Bank.

We celebrated our first sight of the North York Moors with a sandwich under an ash tree that had cramp balls, black fungi these, the walk is a comfortable one.

Once you’ve found Caulkleys Lane you are set for the next few miles along the ridge, a very gradual ascent to a trig point and bench at 300 feet. If it weren’t for a few trees the views would be 360 degrees. They used to race horses here.

Hovingham catches the eye but the next stop for us was the village of Stonegrave after another mile along the ridge.

From here we tried a path but were repulsed by nettles so took a back lane that had no traffic and brought up an oddity. Keep your eyes peeled and shortly after leaving Stonegrave, about fifty yards after a bridge and on the right hand side, enclosed in a box of fencing and with a plaque there is a resurgent black poplar, a rare thing. Its wood will not burn so was used for brake blocks. The verges sprouted horseradish, which looks like dock.

We reached the disused railwayline track and it took us back, a finishing mile or so as pleasant as you could wish.