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I’ve a confession. Five years ago our friends lent us a cottage in Whitby. Satnav wasn’t working. I’d driven through the night, family were asleep. I knew we were near but instead of turning left, turned right. I went up here. I soon realised it was the donkey track to the abbey!
It was pitch black & I’d missed the no entry sign. I slammed on the brakes but was stuck at a 60 % gradient! The car alarm went off & the family woke up screaming. I couldn’t take my foot off the brake or we’d have crashed back into a wall. I had to accelerate. Hill start! Go!
My legs shaking I pushed the pedal with all I had and slowly we crawled towards the top. We made it. Everyone cried. We carefully drove down from the abbey & realised the cottage was at the bottom of the 199 steps. That night my back seized up & 5am I awoke screaming & paralysed!
The stress has cramped up my back muscles. I was in agony. Husband called an ambulance. When the paramedics arrived they knew my friends whose cottage it was. They asked how I hurt my back. I told them about the donkey track. ‘You mean, you made it to the top?’ the paramedic said
‘Cars get rescued from there, but you’re the only person I know who got to the top?!’ I took painkillers, crashed out for 24 hours then had a holiday. But the paramedic had phoned my friend & told him the story. I now get sent photos of the donkey track from Whitby residents.
I have become a little Whitby legend of my own making entirely through my own stupidity. If there is one moral to this story it is this: NEVER drive up the donkey track for then you shall experience back pain like never before. Confession ends. #WhitbyLegend 
