Roger said it was the toughest walk he had ever done …
which makes it slightly more bearable.
We decided to do things a little differently. Usually we meet at oh-stupid hundred hours, set off for Wales & arrive for a 1000 walk start time. This time, the length of the walk demanded an 0730 start on Monday, so we met at Paul’s at 1600 on Sunday for a 1930 meet at Magor services and then onwards to the hostel.
We were the usual suspects, minus Claire who was celebrating her birthday in the Bahamas. Wales ? Bahamas ? – tough choice. Tom, who was to join us for the first time, cried off last minute. He obviously knew something we did not.
We arrived at the hostel for 2130 and after a couple of ‘Red Dragons’ and a chinwag we were ready to hit the hay.
I woke up feeling tired the next morning, partly due to waking every hour to check I hadn’t slept in (the way I do for early turn) and partly because when I did sleep, I had a very odd dream about being a super-hero involved in a 90 million heist. After lots of running, jumping, fighting and ducking laser beams, I left the money – doh !
My choice of subconscious getaway car worries me too. Not for me a sleek, sexy Batmobile, no, my choice of car was a VW Bora. For which, I had a remote control that I didn’t know how to operate. I eventually left the scene of my crime standing on the bumper, whilst an unknown person operated the controls. Dream analyst anyone ?
Our schedule was an 0715 breakfast, for an 0730 start. There are no ifs or buts with Roger, it’s his job you see. Stuart was made oic packed lunches the night before and had placed our order for 6 packed lunches in time for the morning, as the blackboard stipulated. There was a choice of LP (lunchpack) 1, or LP 2, the numeral indicating the number of sandwiches.
Dave, who likes to know what’s what, was heard to enquire ‘Is a sandwich, 2 slices of bread with a filling ?’ in the manner of a recently arrived alien visiting Earth. We knew exactly what he meant, but in the way of people who work for the Met, derived much humour from this up to and beyond the point when it was no longer amusing (to him)
At 0715 we were despatched to our rooms to get ready, for parade at 0730.
It was therefore very amusing to see Roger’s face at 0729, when the chap at the hostel (whose name escapes me) wandered casually into the breakfast room to announce vaguely that he was ‘Here to check the sandwich order.’
Roger, who couldn’t trust himself to speak, indicated Stuart. Stuart, who is ever the diplomat, explained that he had placed the order the night before and that we were sort of hoping for the packed lunches to be ready to join us on
our walk.
‘No problem’, came the casual reply ‘now then, what does this LP2 indicate ?’ which seems a reasonable question until I tell you that LP1 & LP2 were the codes used by the hostel themselves.
With the far from reassuring ‘We’re short of bread but I’ll see what I can do’ off he sauntered to commence the catering arrangements. I shouldn’t be too harsh on him because breakfast was supposed to be served between 0800 & 0830 & Stuart had persuaded him to serve it much earlier for our benefit.
We met outside the hostel, garbed in various, rustling waterproofs (did I mention it was raining ?) for the obligatory pre-walk group pictures*
(l-r) Me, Dave, Ed, Elaine, Roger, Guy, Paul, Stuart, Debs and George.
and then began the pain, I mean walk.
Roger had promised an easy first hour to ‘allow breakfast to settle’. Knowing there is no such thing with Roger, I was in no way surprised to find myself glowing pinkly, having speed-walked to the base of the first ascent.
See that cloud ? It never shifted.
After a 30 second stop for everyone to take on water and lose/add layers, it was go, go, go to the first climb. A little while and much snot later I found myself in a whole different world to the calm, mild valley I had left behind. On the tops, the wind was an unearthly banshee, which whipped at our clothing and drove horizontal sleet into our faces.
And that was pretty much it for 22 miles and 11 hours and 30 minutes.
The End.
I jest of course, but that’s pretty much what I remember.
Here are the ‘highlights’. I use that word advisedly really, they’re the bits I recall.
Seeing Roger, who is not a little person, being repeatedly blown of his feet whilst traversing a hilltop. Any rumours that the group were hoping for him to be blown off the ridge are strictly untrue.
Being saved by Elaine’s walking pole (left mine in my car). Hers is the super duper lightweight version of mine (don’t want mine anymore). Whilst skidding down scree alongside a waterfall, when all bar Dave, fell repeatedly, I started to fall face first down the slope. I dug the pole into the ground in front of me and leant my entire weight on the pole to stop my slide. The pole described a perfect ‘c’ shape, at which point Roger who was behind me, confessed he was waiting to see me catapulted off the hill, in the manner of a pole-vaulter.
The pole absorbed the weight, resumed its original shape and lo – I was saved.
Lunch. We walked for 22 miles in unspoilt countryside, yet when it came to lunch, the only shelter we could find was the grounds of a disused pumping station. Ed took refuge from the rain in a little shed. The rest of us, observing the discarded hypodermics, excrement and used condoms, guessed Ed had found the TraveLodge for Welsh junkies and elected to consume our lunch standing. In the rain. Did I mention it was raining ?
George’s chocolate caramels – perfect morale boosters.
Quotes of the day.
Dave – ‘Is a sandwich 2 slices of bread ?’
Dave - ‘That bridge isn’t actually a suspension bridge’
George - (about Roger and said wistfully) – ‘He’s got newer software than me’ – GPS envy.
George (about Dave’s head) – ‘He’s caught the sun’ – there was none. Did I mention it was raining ?
Roger – ‘We were never lost’
'And that's my house over there ...'
Roger – ‘That was a 70 mile an hour wind’
Me – ‘How do you know’ (wondering if he had an anometer on his GPS)
Roger – ‘Cos I know what a 50mph wind feels like and that was worse
Roger – ‘Stuart, I need a recce’
Roger - ‘Come on everyone, it’s this way’ – After sending Stuart in the opposite direction.
All – ‘STUART ! Was that you ?’
Mental
Something interesting occurred prior to ascent 5. At 18 miles Roger advised us of a slight change to the planned route. He had decided to skip one climb due to the monumental wind. We were to skirt around the base of the peak, same distance but less risk of losing a tired walker off a ridge. I was probably the happiest of the group to receive the news but if anyone was disappointed to be skipping the climb, they hid it well.
Stuart was sent ahead to recce the path ‘We are looking for one that doesn’t go up, but along and round’ were the instructions. Unfortunately, due to visibility of less than 30 feet, the path we started on did exactly that for a little while. By the time we had realised we were again climbing a short mutiny broke out. Nobody wanted to retrace their steps and so there we were, climbing again, over large, uneven red boulders.
Although my legs were doing what my mind told them, I realised my biggest problem was my psyche. I had unknowingly relaxed when told there were no more climbs ahead and trying to get my resisting body to do what I wanted was mentally more than physically difficult. I guess I’ve a way to go before emulating my heroes. I’d be rubbish on those selection courses where they shout at you whilst making you run up and down the same hill. ‘You do it’ I can imagine sobbing.
To make a long story longer, we finally recognised the valley containing our beds for the night.
After discussing an alternate, shorter, more direct, but potentially boggy route back to the hostel, we (Roger) decided on the indirect and safe but lengthier walk along the valley. It was at this point, there was almost a splinter breakaway faction by 4 of us who fancied our chances off-piste. Dave suggested we raise our spirits by singing a song at this point ‘NO’ was the unanimous reply ‘Let’s not’.
The last few miles everyone was thoroughly chilled, footsore, hallucinating about dry clothes and showers and we didn’t hang about.
Silly hat competition - a clear winner.
The chaps very chivalrously offered the showers to the girls first and soon, we all met, pink-faced and warm in the kitchen to chat to and get in the way of Debs who rustled up a gorgeous chilli with garlic bread.
It was decided, over dinner that our walks are like childbirth. The pain is soon forgotten and we think we enjoyed the event until next time. Those of us with no experience of childbirth relied upon what friends had told us.
We were due to play drinking games in the evening but each of us admitted later that by 2300, we were ready for our beds.
Old people glad not to be playing drinking games.
Us girls retired to our room, then spent an hour, discussing life, men and things. I slept poorly again, despite being tired, missing someone and looking forward to seeing him again.
…rinse and repeat
I don’t know if you recall but I did this walk last year in unbearable heat and struggled all the way around.
I battled to keep up on the flat, wanted to die on the ups ; repeatedly stopping (whether the group stopped or not) and was only comfortable on the downs. The only thing which stopped me sitting down and crying was that it was my first walk with the group and I only knew Roger.
Things were a little different this year. I still struggled to keep up on the ups and the others had to stop for me to catch up.
The only photo of me not at the back on a climb.
However, whenever they waited for me, it was because I was walking slowly rather than being stationary. I was fine on the flats and good on the downs. Which of course means only one thing – lots more ups on days off. The good news there is I will be living on the South Downs and will of course prance past all of them next May when we do the 3 Peaks having spent lots of days off scampering up and down hills.
The other good news was I finished with no knee or back pain, both of which niggled last time.
Honourable mentions …
Go to Debs, Dave, Ed and especially Stuart.
All of whom assisted on the ups.
Debs gave me hankies on climb one when my snot was becoming unmanageable. Yes, I had a large white cotton hanky with me and yes, it was in my bag back at the hostel.
On climb number 2, Dave assured me all the way up that we were ‘nearly at the top’ bless him, either his eyesight’s poor or he’s the eternal optimist.
On climb 5 when my legs were operating on empty, Ed offered to carry my rucksack, which I assured him, had it been at all heavy, I would have gladly let him take. Ed was also cheering to follow, because he takes such large strides I could convince myself it was less distance if I followed him.
Huge thanks to Stuart, who on the same climb noticed a gust of wind catch me off-balance. As I started to topple over the edge, he gave me a hefty shove in the right direction. He waved away my thanks explaining that it was too cold to wait around for the Chinook to scrape up my jammy remains.
Stuart also hoisted me to my feet after I fell, hands first into
a knee-deep black peat bog. It would have been nice had he waited for my feet to touch the floor, before pulling me in a forward direction, but it’s the thought that counts. It was Stuart too, who, noticing my dead-person’s bare hands, insisted I take the gloves that he had previously borrowed from Elaine (who was fantastically growed-up and had 2 pairs – wow) and he waited on an icy summit whilst I put on another layer whilst Roger cheerfully led everyone else off before checking we were all ready.
Speaking of bare hands, I lost my amber ring on the walk, having taken it off when my fingers swelled painfully in the cold. I stupidly put it in the pocket of my waterproof trousers and it wasn’t there when I next looked. It was the ring I bought in Nelson market during my stay with Murray in Dec 2004 and it perfectly matched the amber necklace which Lovely Angie found for me.
I am very sad to have lost it and this of course means I’ll have to do that walk again at some time, looking only at the floor - no change there.
My biggest thank you goes to Milky, for accompanying me on all the boring up and down hill stuff we did prior to me going to Wales. Without that preparation, there would have been no point me attempting the walk.
Next time.
We feel we’ve ‘done’ Wales now, having been there 3 times and suggestions are welcomed for our next trip. It has to be reached in one day and walked the same, so Scotland is out. I’ve suggested Yorkshire and wherever it is, Roger promises an ‘easy’ one – only 8 hours walk time.
The next morning we met for breakfast, discussed our aches and pains and stood, outside the hostel, squinting into the bright, morning sunshine for the obligatory goodbye team photo.
'Until next time.'
Cx
* Stuart was oic photos, I'll insert them as soon as I receive them.
