Coast-to-Coast

Interestingly I’ve never been much of a hiker!  I know, hard to believe given that this time last year I was in the final throes of training for my trek in Papua New Guinea but there you have it.  In fact my last foray into anything resembling a hike was way back in 1990 when I attempted to complete the Coast-to-Coast walk across the UK.   What was I thinking?

Keith, Boomer & TW at St Bees on the Irish Sea
August 1990 prior to setting out for our Coast-to-Coast hike

An English gentleman named Alfred Wainwright endearingly coined this famous “walk” for want of a better term, but let me tell you it is a grinding 192 mile from St Bees in Cumbria to Robin Hood Bay in North Yorkshire...   During this epic hike you actually pass through three large, expansive and beautiful National Parks – The LakesDistrict, Yorkshire Dales and the North York Moors (yes, I also think of the Hounds of the Baskerville as well when I hear the word “Moors” :-). 

In fact I’m actually not sure how Keith (he was an exchange teacher at my school in Darwin and who now lives in the village of Danby which is situated within the North York Moors) convinced me to even to contemplate this hike in the first place…it must have been the excessive amounts of the Theakston's “Old Peculiar” that he often plied me with when ever I’d catch up with him – clearly he was also extremely persuasive!

In any event he convinced me, whom then convinced a Canadian mate of mine who I used to work with (Steve “Boomer” Boone) to undertake this adventure also.   I’m still not sure what we were thinking, especially when I look back and consider the hardcore training I undertook for my Kokoda trek, which is literally a third the distance.   Granted it didn’t have the altitude and heat of Papua to deal with but lets be fair here, Boomer and I did “zero” training unless you count the fact that we drove to the local Mountain Equipment Co-Op to buy our supplies before getting on a plane to the UK.   We were young and supposedly fit and therefore training was not required, if old Wainright can do it smoking a pipe, it should be a doddle.   

Boomer lying prostrate regaining his breath and resting his
badly blistered feet...while Keith takes some photos
  (Anglers Crag - Ennerdale Water)

Our adventure started innocently enough with Keith picking us at the airport in Manchester after our flight from Toronto.   Adrenaline clearly flowing as we drove up to his place in Middlesbrough (just south of Newcastle-Upon-Tyne), arriving just in time for a BBQ and a few beers...more good quality training (not!)   Next morning Alison (Keith’s wife) drove us all over to St Bees on the Irish Sea where we camped at the local campground, again more training at the local pub…

The plan was to make quick work of the Coast-to-Coast walk (10 days), which in retrospect was always going to be a bit of a stretch at almost 20 miles per day on untrained feet over some rough terrain…yeah we were dreaming for sure.

Day one dawned and before we even took a step on the trail we heard that it was set to be the hottest day on record in the UK for over 100 years….nice!   Now let’s see what we have so far – two of the three completely untrained and novice hikers, heavy packs (25kgs +), running shoes, mountainous terrain and the hottest day on record.  Hhhmmm…

Absolutely nothing could have prepared us for the first day.   We initially made good progress and by mid afternoon we had made it to Ennerdale Water, a lake that is considered the gateway to the Lakes District National Park.  After this point our trail lurched significantly upward for the next 25 miles.   The challenge was that Boomer had been feeling a number of “hot spots” or blisters forming on his heels since before lunch.  The afternoon was slow progress as we hiked around the edge of Ennerdale Water to our first nights camping spot on the eastern edge of the lake.   By this time Boomer had fashioned a walking stick out of a branch to help him ease the blister pain as he trudged on.

Boomers feet at the end of the first day of hiking
the famous Coast-to-Coast walk in Northern England

With each subsequent stop, it was obvious that he was in trouble, the most noticeable sign were the blood stained socks on our final stop.

We eventually made it to the head of the lake, and set up camp.  Totally spent after the relentless heat and the torturous 18-mile grind we flopped down on the grass to rest our weary bones and take stock of our physical state.  The lake beckoned so we quickly stripped down to our shorts and dove into the lake, it was so refreshing!   After 15 or 20 minutes of floating and soaking up the cool and refreshing water we lay on the grass and let the early evening sun dry us off, and almost feeling human again.  

The next priority was to set up the tent and get dinner organized.   After a decidedly dodgy dinner of spam (of all things) cooked over an open fire (and yes it was as bad as it sounds!) we sat around treating our hot spots and salving the myriad of blisters.  

As the sun began to set a large cloud of mosquitoes enveloped us, and between slaps and swats we retreated into the tent, unfortunately the next eight hours were torturous as well with none of us really getting any sleep.   We now realized how small the tent actually was especially with three guys and gear in it, not only was it tight on space, but it soon became a sauna.  Even with the tent flap open, there was zero airflow and so for the remainder of the night we lay there uncomfortably bathed in sweat.

Night of mosquitoes and spam - so
living hell in other words!

After the restless night it was a blessing to see the sun finally begin to rise over the looming mountain peaks and get out of our self imposed sauna to stretch our legs.   Boomer had a particularly bad limp due to the significant number and severity of blisters on his feet…    The day was shaping up to be another hot one, perhaps not quite as hot as the day before, but hot none-the-less, which didn’t bode well.  

This was supposed to be fun, but was quickly turning into a true test of our physical endurance if not pain thresholds.  

Day two started slowly, hoping to get into steady rhythm that Boomer could keep up with but it soon became obvious that he would be lucky to make lunchtime given the steepness of the terrain ahead coupled with the state of his feet.   We tried redistributing some of the weight in his pack, but this did little to alleviate the mind numbing pain in his bloody feet. 

Keith and I trudged on, the distance slowly increasing the longer we hiked, by mid morning we decided to stop and wait for Boomer.   Even after just two hours he was more than 30 minutes behind us…we were done. 

View from the top of High Stile in the
Lakes District 

After resting we hiked into the closest town and called Alison to come and pick us up.   We had failed miserably, completely disillusioned and disappointed with our poor performance we each struggled for some meaning in what we had just experienced.  After getting cleaned up there was nothing for it but to go to the local pub and commiserate.  

It had been a holiday like no other, but I think we all learned a valuable lesson on our hiking adventure across the UK.  In fact I’d even go so far as to say that it helped me in my preparation for Papua New Guinea some 21 years later.  

Clearly hindsight is a wonderful thing, but it was in the glow of this self-realization that preparation and preparation alone – both mental and physical were absolutely critical to surviving the challenge of this magnitude and that above all things stuck with me the most.   

Never again was I going to feel the sense of defeat and disappointment that accompanied me back to Canada after my brush with the famous Coast-to-Coast in Northern England...   

A lesson learned!