Little m Long a

I snapped this photo at the Tate Modern in London just hours prior to hopping on a train at Kings Cross bound for Newcastle.  It’s a Warhol.  I’m not a huge Warhol fan but I thought it was kind of cool.  The entire room was dedicated to Andy and the walls were covered ceiling to floor with these pink cows on a stark yellow background.

Little did I know then that these cows would play such a significant role in my very immediate future.

I hate cows.  Unless of course, they are carved up moderately thick, marinated in Dales and seared to medium rare perfection on an open flame.

In that scenario, I think I could say that cows are pretty cool.

I have just returned from merry old England having walked its width.  The width being roughly 89 miles from Newcastle Upon Tyne (at the North Sea) to Bowness on Solway just past Carlisle to the west and the waters of the Irish Sea.

It hurt.

I followed the path of Hadrian’s Wall or, as it shall be forever remembered by me, The Trail of Poo.  (It could have just as easily, and appropriately so, been renamed the Great Hadrian’s Pub Crawl.)  For six days I trudged the pathways that followed the wall built by the Romans in AD 122 through some of the most beautiful countryside I had seen in quite some time.  And by countryside I specifically mean cow and sheep pastures.  Do not be fooled by lush images of green landscapes and gentle rolling hills.  There’s poo out there and lots of it!

It took me all of two days to say, “Fuck it! I’m not walking around this shit any more!” and just plow straight through.  Yes, I walked in poo.

All bullshitting aside — see how I did that — the experience was magnificent and one I shall keep dear to me for quite some time.  Here’s a brief recap (and I’ll try to leave out the poo):

The North Sea

A smaller group of us met at the castle — or remnants thereof — on the shores of the North Sea at Tynemouth.  Dan seemed surprised to see me.  “Oh, you actually came.”  I expressed concern that this did not bode well for my accommodation and eating plans for the remainder of the week but he assured me that this was the only list in which he had neglected to include me.

Who in their right mind eats curry before emarking on a long walk!!

The official walk began the following morning.  The entire group met at the Wallsend Metro Station in Newcastle and set off.

And They're Off

I soon realized that this would be one of the few times that the group would actually walk as, well — as a group.  35 people do not walk at the same pace.  The crowd thinned quickly.

The first day had us walking about 15 miles to a place called Heddon on the Wall.  It should have been named Heddon Atop a Ridiculously High Hill.  The terrain had been fairly easy until the last mile and a half which happened to be straight up a hill.  The climb was well worth the effort though as our evening meal was at a place called the Swan.

Best carvery ever!  Oh, and I had Yorkshire pudding.  You put gravy on Yorkshire pudding.  It sounds disgusting but it’s not really pudding.  For all I know it was not really invented in Yorkshire.  But it was good.

The next day had us trudging some 16 miles (could have been 30) to a farm in the middle of nowhere.  Again, the last 2 or so (probably 15) miles were straight uphill.  I was a middle-of-the-packer pace-wise for most of the day.  Painfully so.  But the thought of trudging 16 miles the last 30 of which were straight up a hill only to have to climb into the top bunk of a bunk bed kept me going.  I arrived with my partner in pain, Michael, to claim the last bottom bunk available and promptly passed out!

Literally bunks in a barn!

Poor Martin arrived several hours later to claim the last remaining bed — a cot which he immediately tossed out of the window opting for the much more comfortable, spider infested floor.  I almost felt sorry for him.  Not enough to give up my bed — I’m not that nice.

Day three was, as Dan called it, an easy day.  Only 12 miles.  What Dan really meant was that it was a shorter distance day because easy never came into play!  Day three introduced us to the hills.  I think it was probably 12 miles as the crow flies but closer to 24 with all of the up and down.

It was also gorgeous.  The 360 degree views were amazing.  It was also on this day that I started to grasp the enormity of what we were doing.  From the tops of the hills I would look out and ahead of me, following the line of the wall and ridges for as far as my eyes would take me.

Then walk there.

Follow the ridge as far as you can see -- then walk there.

The details of distances grows a bit fuzzy after day three as fatigue began to take hold of me.  One day we walked a bit less than was originally planned as we had a scheduled arrival to catch a bus that would bring us to our sleeping facility.  Normally, a shorter walking distance would have made for a fairly easy day.

Normally.

The difficulty factor was upped a notch or two due to the fact that the previous night had been spent in a tent.  On the hard, cold ground.  Next to a sheep pasture.  Sheep do not sleep.  And as they do not sleep they somehow feel that no one within at least a five mile radius should sleep either.

I hate sheep!

They also tend to poo all over the walking trail, but I’ve said I’m not going to talk about that anymore.

They’re also stupid!

The Great Sheep Rescue by Rajiv, Alex and Craig

That little guy had become trapped in a little fenced area and then actually got stuck in the style.  For the record, Rajiv was not stabbing the sheep and no animals were harmed in the taking of this photograph.

Days three and four combined, however, did provide us with some of the greatest portions of intact wall and historical sites.  It really was impressive.

I'm told a scene from Robin Hood was filmed at this spot

And I was truly glad for having made the effort to get there.

Ed and the Wall

Day five had us trekking about 15 miles into the city of Carlisle.  I think that by this point everyone in the group could sense the end and the mood was quite lively.  Our spirits were lifted by the fact that we had but 15 miles to go.  We also had the opportunity to meet Neil Salmon at a little pub down the street from the hostel where we were staying.  It was a pleasure and an honor to meet such an extraordinary guy.

Neil and Dan, who quite obviously had not realized the merits of sun screen.

I found out that Neil and I also share something in common.  We both celebrate our birthdays on July the 10th which incidentally, is actually our birthday.  It also happened to be the final day of our trek.

It rained.

All day long.

Fifteen miles worth.

I got wet.

Soaked, really.

On my birthday!!!

But I finished the walk.

The End.

Just six days earlier I stood on the banks of the North Sea on the far east side of England.  I was now staring out at the waters of the Irish Sea 89 miles to the west.  Soaked to the core, aching from head to toe and thrilled beyond belief at what I had been able to accomplish.

The Old Man and the Irish Sea

Many thanks to Dan for inviting me to participate in such a tremendous event.  I survived just a little worse from the wear.  No significant blisters to speak of but I fear I may lose a couple of toenails.  (I have no idea how I did it or why but they don’t look good.)  It’s a small price to pay for the experience of a lifetime as well as the opportunity to do something good for a very worthwhile cause, The Joseph Salmon Trust.

A world of thanks to all of you who sponsored me on this walk (you know who you are).  For those of you who didn’t (you know who you are) there is still time to throw a few coins into the pot.  You can make a donation by going here or here.

And if you’d like to see more pictures from my trip and have a few hours to spare (I took a lot of pictures) you can follow this link to my Flickr page.  Dan has also set up a Flickr page for the Hadrian’s Walk and I’ll try to post some photos there as well when I can get them sorted.