Who said Lincolnshire was flat?

My sister has a "useful" app on her phone which tells us how many steps we have walked and (allegedly) how many miles we have walked. The latter is slightly suspect as the mileages are significantly at odds with the published mileages for the Viking Way. If the phone is accurate (and who am I to argue with Apple technology) the official guide consistently underestimates the distance walked. On Thursday the official distance was 14 miles; the phone said 17. On Friday, the distance was 8 miles and the phone said nearer 10. Yesterday the distance was 9 and the phone said about 10.5. We shall see if today's 10.5 miles turns out to be 13.
Another function of this app is to measure height climbed. Unhelpfully it does so in "floors", not a unit of measurement with which any of us are familiar and my sister does not know what a "floor" is. We do know that the ascent of Skiddaw is 191 floors.
On Thursday we only climbed 2 floors, and on Friday only 4. Yesterday we ascended forty-odd floors. This was not a complete surprise, as yesterday's route took us past the highest point in Lincolnshire, the 550 foot high Normanby Top. Such elevation in a flat county gave us stupendous views across to Lincoln Cathedral, twenty miles away. To earn this we had climbed up the Nettleton Valley, and we continued through the sort of up and down country familiar to anyone who has walked  the Yorkshire Wolds Way.
Our route did not lack entertainment: after two days of meeting only the occasional dog walker, we had plenty of company - a troop of scouts; several groups of Duke of Edinburgh award teenagers, easily recognised by their map cases, tents and overstuffed rucksacks; and a solitary walker, dressed for December rather than September, whose hobby appeared to be taking pictures of himself. We encountered, for the first time, a herd of Lincolnshire Longwood sheep, an endearingly furry looking variety, on a farm near Risby.
Just after the sheep we met a friendly Hereford bull, standing motionless as a variety of walkers passed by. A party just ahead of us, alarmed by the appearance of this creature, decided to deviate off the path to keep their distance. This was a mistake, as the route they chose led into an unexpected bog. I didn't expect, in rural Lincolnshire, to see anyone repeat my brother-in-law's Pennine Way trick of disappearing thigh deep into mud, but I was wrong.