Wolfgang doesn’t know. “If I tell you how to go to White Horse Farm Inn, I’d be lying.” “I’ve owned the Buck Inn for fifteen years, but I still don’t know much about the surrounding area.”

The night before, I talk to two locals in the pub. “White Horse Farm Inn, for the life of me I don’t know how to get there. Rosedale I know. But sure can’t place the Inn.” The other local says, “My friend knows all the pubs from here to Dover. He’s been to all of them also. Are you sure the Inn is in Rosedale?”

With these three responses, I’m a tad bit anxious. I know that I have lodging for tonight. But is it in the North Yorkshire moors? Off the moors? Near the moors? It appears on Google Maps, but how to get there?

Nothing that I can do though now. Wolfgang offers to return Frank, his wife Joy, and me to the intersection of a local road and the Coast to Coast trail. The three mile drive is beautiful.

At 8:30 AM, we begin walking. Since Frank and Joy have a twenty-mile day and my day will only be ten or so miles, I walk with them for only a short while. From the Boston area; both are runners; both are 78. Outdoor type folk. As the first mile of the day is an uphill climb to the moors, Frank offers some advice “Don’t burn all your matches at first.” Since they have many more miles than me to cover today, we say good-by as I take a rest break at the top of the hill.

How am I going to get to the White Horse Farm Inn? But, after wondering, I get caught up in observing my surroundings. The moors holds different plants than the lowlands. Heather. Grasses. No trees or large shrubs. Some of the heather has been burned. From memory, I liken it to being on a high plateau in the Dakotas. Except in the Dakotas, one can see for miles with nothing but landscape. Here, I can see for miles, but I detect valley farms in the distance.

I keep walking. How am I going to get to White Horse Farm Inn? I return to enjoying the walk. No serious ups and downs now that I’m on top of the moors. No climbing stones, no cautiously going downhill on stones. I notice the weather. When I start this morning, the temperature is low 40’s. The temperature is warming, but still chilly. In Atlanta, when I walk in the 40’s, and it is sunny, I’l feel like I’m walking in the 50’s. In the North Yorkshire Moors, when I walk in the 40’s and it is sunny and windy, I feel like I’m walking in the 30’s. Quite a difference.

It is about 10AM. As I take a rest break, another hiker overtakes me. Also older, but a serious hiker given his speed. We introduce ourselves. Dave smiles, “Beautiful isn’t it.” He takes my photo. “I love this walk, the views in every direction are wonderful.” He continues: “I live near here. I try to get up on these moors every chance I get.” We chat about our walks, my Coast to Coast, his Waite Walk. As we begin to start off, I ask him “Have you heard of the White Horse Farm Inn? It is near Rosedale Abbey.” “Hmm, I haven’t. But Rosedale Abbey is a bit distant from here.”

Somebody has heard of the White Horse Farm Inn. The first good news that I’ve heard! The distance around 12-14 miles. Not so good news! “Any idea how to get there from the Lion Inn?” “Is the road busy. I’m not keen on walking on some of these roads. Some of the roads don’t have a shoulder for walking.”

Dave pauses. “I’m meeting my wife Sally and her parents at the Lion’s Inn for lunch. If you get there no later than 1PM or 1:30PM, I’m sure that Sally can give you a lift to Rosedale Abbey.” WOW! That is the best news that I’ve had for a long while! I check myself though. I know not to make an offer that involves Mary. “Are you sure that Sally wouldn’t mind.” “Oh, no, she’d be glad to take you near the Inn.”

With those last words, Dave says “I got to go. I want to have plenty of time with them myself. Don’t forget, be there by 1PM or thereabouts.” Off he goes. Am I going to forget? Am I going to linger around on the moors and not be there by 1PM. Not in your life.

The question “How am I going to get to White Horse Farm Inn” doesn’t really return with the same force. Dave’s very gesture of offering me help makes a world of difference. Even though I know that Sally might not be able to help, Dave’s simple concern for my situation helps.

About two hours later, I arrive at the Lion’s Inn. It is often billed as “the most isolated pub in England.” Dumping my day-pack on a table, I look for Dave as I head to the bar. There they are, four of them chatting. Dave smiles as I come up to him. “I’ve explained to Sally your situation, she’ll be glad to take you to the White Horse Farm Inn.” I look at Sally, “Are you sure?” “I’ll be glad to take you after we finish eating and chatting.”

I order my half-pint. I get my “Wainwright Gold.” I chat with other Coast to Coast walkers. I’m feeling good!

After a bit, Sally comes over. “Ready to go.” We walk to her Tesla and head for the White Horse Farm Inn. Almost eight miles away. A long way to have had to hike!

An offer. An actual gift. The difficulty finding lodging close to the Coast to Coast has been an issue. I’ve stayed two miles from the trail; four miles from the trail; ten miles from the trail; now almost eight miles from the trail. Getting to the lodging and then back to the trail can be a pain. There are bottlenecks where only a few accommodations are available.

Gifting is multi-faceted. I’m extremely grateful for the offer to help and the actual gift. I relearn that sometimes the gift of an offer to help can be as much a gift as the actual gift itself.