Hadrian's Wall Walk: Day Two.

Day two was always predicted to be the most challenging. Also the most scenic, and the most clearly all about the wall.

We started out with a full team but only 8 of us managed to complete the full distance, a very hilly 26 miles. Old injuries started to manifest themselves for people as the pounding of feet on earth and rock persisted – hips, ankles, feet, toes and knees.

Although day one had only left us with a brief glimpse of The Wall, we never left it on day two. The walk started off reasonably gently, following rolling hills through farmland, with energy still in the tank to stop for an occasional posed shot.

It seemed to be built thicker in lower areas where there were fewer natural defenses.

Group dynamics sorted themselves out as the morning progressed. Those who were less confident in their ability tended to want to be pace setters early on, pushing themselves forward at the front of the group. My height and shape meant I was fortunate enough to be able to cruise along at the back with a colleague who has a lot of hiking experience, bringing up the rear and calling ahead to the leaders if the group started to split up too much.

As the only one with a video camera, I was also the default videographer, sporadically jumping to the front to capture the (variable) expressions on peoples’ faces. I didn’t make many friends from this endeavour.

Not being one to feel guilty about indulging in sugary food, it was nevertheless good to know that I was burning up all the calories I was ingesting. It’s amazing that I still have teeth left though.

After 10 miles or so we hit the ‘real’ hills. Which timed out nicely with the onset of heavy rain.

The limestone slabs were steep and like wet soap in places as the rain came down. There were some slips and slides, but those who went down were fortunate enough not to damage anything.

Once down, it wasn’t always easy to get back up, but the benefits of walking poles came into their own.

The RAF rescue helicopter was never too far away, which was comforting in its own way.

There were forts every mile built at the same time as the wall (122 AD), and castles from a different millennium entirely (1200 AD)

You always know you are at the highest point in an area when walking in England as ‘trig points' (the stone obelisk, used for surveying) are in evidence:

The wild scenery was the star of the day for me. In some places we were walking on the top of the wall itself, not great if you suffer from vertigo, but the views were memorable.

For the second day the sun disappeared behind us as we marched on, all struggling in different ways with the challenge. Some had very specific injuries but mind over matter came into play and they pushed on through.

The last four or five miles were in darkness as we came down from the hills, a collection of head torch lights bobbing expectantly along the road in anticipation of first sight of the waiting bus.

Stats:

26 miles

53,185 steps

2165 kcal

Hadrian's Wall Walk: Day One.

The night before day one, the team gathered at Silloth on the Solway Firth, with Scotland rising on the other side of the water. I caught sight of my first offshore windfarm way out west on the horizon, an impressive and uplifting spectacle. Menus for the following days were discussed over drinks but nervous trepidation about the scale of the walk was the most pervasive topic.

The morning of day one we loaded ourselves into the bus and had a camera face-off on the way to the official starting point.

We unloaded, adjusted gear, had a motivational talk, stretched half-heartedly and, for want of anything better to do, started walking.

The first stage was following the Solway Firth for about 10 miles to Carlisle. The land is flat and low lying. Fortunately we caught it at low tide.

There wasn’t much of a welcoming committee.

Navigation was easy and in characteristically Roman fashion the track was straight as an arrow.

Civilisation – and temptation – was never far from view, so although the pub was just about resisted, the ice creams from the local post office were not to be ignored. At this point, with clear skies and a comfortable pace, it didn’t feel like hardship.

We passed through Carlisle around lunchtime and headed east out of the town. The route wasn’t always particularly scenic.

It was good to see that the Cotswolds theme of strange historical buildings in random locations continued unabated.

Thanks to several pre-agreed stops with the support vehicle, snacks were welcome and plentiful.

Animal encounters were frequent and varied. They ranged from the small of stature, big of heart:

to the plain old big of stature.

I became the cowboy of the team as everyone quickly realised I was the only one naïve enough to face down some of the bigger looking beasts blocking the path. This one was standing on the bridge protecting its calf, so I was sent in as negotiator. It’s good to feel valued (or should that be expendable?).

The afternoon wore on, the sun passed over our heads and started to disappear behind us. Fatigue started to manifest itself as the reality what everyone had signed up to began to hit home. The body language at this last pitstop for the day says it all.

Talk of hot baths was popular, but the reality was nothing but a mirage. Or just desperate attempts at visual humour.

Almost 30 miles in and we finally found a bit of Hadrian’s well-organised stones. At that point in the day it was about as exciting as a bit of old wall could be, but symbolic nonetheless.

The support vehicle was provided by our hospital patient transport service from London, so the drivers were ambulance men - handy for first aid. It was also a welcome sight at the end of day one to see the vivid yellow of his jacket and know the bus wasn’t too far away.

All in all the first day was great for the team to find its collective pace and to take in the magnitude of the distances involved. A mile can go quickly or last an age depending on perception, attitude, fitness, stature, stamina, footwear, air pressure, time of day, amount of chocolate ingested, etc. Blisters were plentiful for some and non-existent for others, but the diversity of people and the singularity of objective kept everyone going. It was only day one. That evening was considerably more subdued than the previous.

Stats:

29.6 miles

55,600 steps

2360 kcal

Quick real-time update - he's back!

Jessica here: it's 7:30pm and we've just finished dinner (pulled pork - this time "smoked" on the gas grill - still pretty darn good).

Mark got into Yatton train station at about 5:15, and he's already unpacked and I'm working on laundry.

He's walking around like normal, doesn't look any worse for wear, nor sore at all. Eight people ended up doing the whole 84 miles - and Mark says that he and one other guy were probably the only ones who seemed to take it all in stride (ha). The other six I think were suffering in various degrees (Mark's friend/colleague Carl would probably have been ok too, but he had sprained his ankle a couple of weeks ago, which was starting to take it's toll by the third day), and it sounds like some got fairly emotional at completing the trek. A handful of people who had been intending to do the whole thing dropped down to the "B" team to do segments rather than the whole whack. But it sounds like they all had a good time, and that the most difficult thing was actually surviving Saturday night in Newcastle - which is where they all went out for dinner and drinks to celebrate the end of the walk.

Mark will be continuing his guest slot for this week, posting pictures and commentary over the next few days, so stay tuned!

Mark's Practise Walk Day 3 of 3

This should have been another 25-30 mile walk, but I was pleased with my 60 miles across the two previous days and felt I deserved to let Mark the Idle fully enjoy the rest of his week off work. The only necessity was to ensure I could still get up, get out and get walking on the third day, the assumption being that once I had started again, I could go on as long as needs be until I dropped.

In other words it was a great excuse to get on the motorcycle (feeling very unloved) and visit my dad and Harry out at my mum's place on the coast.

I persuaded my dad to go for a walk along Brean Down but Harry wasn't interested. We got to see a view of the brand new pier at Weston Super Mare (the town where we used to live – the old pier was burned down last year), and a view of the Bristol Channel looking out towards Wales and the Irish Sea.

It was no more than a couple of miles, but I was pleased I could still move.

All in all, the weather was perfect for my practise walks, the scenery was a joy to rediscover, and being alone with me and my shadow in the fresh air for such an extended time I found very therapeutic. I know it will be nothing like the chaos of next week's pressurised team event, in the rain (according to the forecast), and with the foreboding terrain of Hadrian's Wall, but at least I feel slightly more prepared.

I didn't walk the full length of the Cotswold Way, but it wasn't necessary in the end. I did spend valuable holiday days doing something I wouldn't typically do with that time, but it was a lot more fulfilling.

Here we go with the real thing – watch this space !

Quick real-time update.

(Welcome, Maureen!)

Jessica here (9:11 am, UK time):

Mark has now started his third day. Apparently the group is now down to eight people - I'm not sure how many started, but some have dropped out. And Mark's boss, Glen, was a DNS on the first day. And it was a good thing, too, as his wife had their baby boy on the first day - five weeks early!

Mark says that his feet are sore, but otherwise he's feeling good. He's swapped boots (to the Kenn ones he bought in Dallas when we were there last, if you remember, Dad), so hopefully that will help.

Just 30 miles to go!