A MONTH or two back, my wife and I had our worst experience ever walking the North York Moors. And since we’ve been wandering the moors for more than 60 years, I think that statement carries some weight.

Over those six-plus decades we’ve encountered difficulties a-plenty. Blocked paths. Impassable streams, crying out for footbridges. Bulls in fields. Unopenable gates, sometimes topped with barbed wire. Awkward, or missing, stiles. Marshy ground requiring boardwalks which, if provided, are never quite long enough.

A couple of Christmases back, I presented my wife with an album of photographs showing her coping with these and other hazards – tall, dense thistles, farm slurry. Friends sympathise. It could be evidence for divorce.

But all previous obstacles were kids’ stuff compared with what we encountered on a track near Kildale. We’d set off from the car park for Capt Cook’s monument, but walked the other way. Nothing worse than mild midwinter mud up to our objective – a viewpoint overlooking Tees Bay. Moors lovely in late winter sunlight.

Our return took us on a short forestry track, depicted on the map with green dots, which signify “other routes with public access”.

We’d used this before with no trouble. But in the five or six years since our last visit, what a change. Deep muddy ruts everywhere. Since they were manageable at first, so we proceeded. But the ruts worsened. With the light now fading, it wasn’t possible to retrace our steps. The minor road that was our last lap was only about 300 yards further on.

But that 300 yards took us about an hour. There was no escape at either side, one of which had a barbed wire fence. Slipping and sliding above ruts up to about a yard deep, we had to criss-cross from one muddy ridge to another, helping each other as much as possible. A fall could have had serious consequences.

Of course it was off-road vehicles that had destroyed this track, rendering it unusable by walkers, cyclists, even horse riders. Shortly after reaching the road, in complete darkness, we spoke to a farmer. “The 4x4s love it,” he said. “Some come at night, we can see their lights.”

This wasn’t our first experience of major damage by the off-roaders. Two or three years ago we found the ancient track along Rudland Rigg so badly churned up that we decided it was out of bounds to us in future. Now, there was a second useful, attractive track virtually denied to us and other non-motorised moorland visitors.

Tragically, the hazy designation “other routes with public access” is a green light to the wreckers. Rudland Rigg is still classed as a highway. But the authorities – North Yorkshire Highways, North York Moors National Park – have allowed this problem to grow for far too long.

Supposedly “beefed up”, a campaign targeting off-roading hotspots has a serious catch – it’s aimed only at “illegal” off-roading. What is needed is a blanket motor-vehicle ban on all except essential local users – farmers, foresters etc – on any unmetalled track. While, for as long as we draw breath, my wife and I will continue to wander the North York Moors, facing whatever difficulty presents itself, the national park will lose its tourists unless it firmly safeguards its footpaths and green lanes.