It was now the 4th day of our hiking trip along the historic Roman Hadrian's Wall. I had had trouble getting to sleep but awoke feeling nicely refreshed. The Sun was only just beginning to rise over the hilltops in the distance so it was going to be a much needed early start.
Welcome to the fourth instalment from a series of posts detailing a recent hike I did from coast-to-coast across England tracking the 2000-year-old ancient Roman defences of Hadrian's Wall. Please check out my Steemit blog if you want to read the previous days first! (Day 1, Day 2, Day 3)
Sun rising over the distant hills
1st person waking-up view
The birds were chirping away as the first rays of the day landed on our skin. An early morning dog walker got a bit of a fright as he walked past and unwittingly discovered two sleepy hikers in camouflage sacks. "I could hear voices but couldn't tell where they were coming from."
We now had 108km (67 miles) in our legs from the previous three days and miraculously our legs were somehow still working. We got to our feet and packed up our stuff but not before taking a quick opportunity to let our bivvies dry out in the morning Sun. Things usually got quite damp overnight. Probably just the chilly morning dew.
Packing up the sleep spot and drying out bivvies
The turret remains we slept beside would be one of the last pieces of the wall we'd see even though there was still a long distance to go until the finish point. This is because over time the materials which made up the wall were repurposed for local housing and other stoney tasks. Kind of a shame but also kind of makes sense. Can't live in the past forever. And, for those who lived nearer the time of the creation of the wall, it held a lot less significance historically.
As our blood began circulating, we felt hopeful despite the enormous task ahead of us. If we wanted to finish this hike in the target of four days that we had set ourselves we would need to walk almost 30 miles in one day. This might have been not too daunting any other day of the week but with the last three days compounding the pain it would be a truly centurion effort to achieve.
Expanding views towards the coast
In the wrong neighbourhood
We were now making a bee-line for the east coast of England. Morale was up. We found ourselves following footpaths through pretty fields with expansive views towards the sea. I had high hopes of the topography remaining relatively flat with a mild tending to be downhill as we were currently higher than sea-level. Carlisle was about 15 miles (25km) away and would be the second large city we would pass through on this hike before heading out across marshes to the finish in the tiny village of Bowness-on-Solway where the original Roman wall terminated with a fort.
As the Sun got higher, we began warming up nicely. It was actually the first day I stripped down to just a t-shirt. It was late October so it was the dying breaths of summer in the northern hemisphere. A great day for a long walk. Although something was sticking in the backs of our minds. The dog walker we had met at the beginning of the day had said that temperatures we going to go to below freezing (32F) the next night. We brushed it off because the current weather seemed so polar opposite. He was local though so maybe he knew something we didn't. Somewhat concerning.
Autumnal bridge crossing
After a short food break we continued our push to Carlisle, which would be the halfway point for the day. We had now realised why we woke up so early. It was because we hadn't actually woken up as early as we thought we had. The reason being that the clocks had shifted backwards by an hour overnight. This meant the sunset was going to be even earlier than the previous days. We began mentally preparing ourselves for a very, very long slog of night walking.
My feet were hurting pretty bad. I actually found stopping, resting and restarting felt a lot worse than just not stopping whatsoever. Unfortunately, my friend had opposite sentiments. There was liberal usage of talcum powder as we attempted to quell the discomfort. It helped keep our feet dry and slightly reduced friction. To some extent it was a hopeless battle though.
The distance was beginning to play on our minds. We'd begun picking points in front of us across the fields and were taking bets on how far they were away and how long it would take to get there. Anything to take our minds off of the monotonous walking we were putting ourselves through. Things started looking up when we found ourselves traipsing through a pasture containing a couple of Shetland ponies though!
Making friends with some small dudes
The scenic farmland continued
Farmland, small village, farmland, another small village, yet more farmland. It felt like Carlisle was never going to materialise. We were hungry and tired but didn't want to spend too much time resting. The sanctuary of the city was only a few more hours away.
The Sun progressively got lower in the sky as the reality of the shorter days of set in. We came across a field full of large cow calves which provided some more cute mammalian relief. They were both curious and afraid of us. It was rather entertaining. As we walked the length of the field, a large number of them followed us. When we got to the other end we looked back from the gate to discover ones that had originally decided to stay behind were now following the followers. It was quite funny to watch. And super cute. We must go on though.
Making even more friends!
An absolutely gorgeous walk
We passed a couple of seemingly randomly placed benches and resisted the strong urge to sit down. We were not going to give in that easy. Jack notified me that the Wetherspoon (a chain of pubs & hotels in the UK) in Carlisle actually had a vegan menu. I simultaneously felt renewed energy to speed along and extreme hunger at the thought of warm food. We hatched a plan that would include having a celebratory feast in Carlisle then attempting the final 15 miles (24km) from the city to the finish in the dark before wild camping in the meagre open-walled shelter. It was going to be tough, but it seemed like our goal was going to be accomplished.
Another piece of farmland containing something of interest appeared. Not of the animal variety this time though. This one had a cool set of undulations and ditches which were created by Romans fortifying the land. There was no wall to be seen but it was still pretty rad. It made for some rather hard to navigate puddles.
Signs of the past Roman influence on the landscape
Following the river into the city
Sticking to the Roman theme nicely
Only a handful of miles to go until Carlisle. We were now following the snaking River Eden with the low Sun guiding the way. Our mouths were salivating at the prospect of what lay ahead. Every step bringing us closer to our gastronomical desires. As we hit the outskirts of the city we ended up walking through a beautiful park filled with grazing cows and city-dwelling dog walkers. It was a strange combination to witness so close to a big human settlement. We neared a bridge that would take us across the river and to the pub of our dreams. However, when we go there we were horrified to discover it was closed for maintenance.
No problem, right? We'd just use another bridge, right? Well, yes. But that next bridge along added multiple miles to our route which, when you're walking slowly and in pain, is another hour. It was a brutal truth that we had to come to terms with. We contemplated finding a way to jump the fencing and cross the bridge anyway but thought it probably wouldn't be wise considering our lack of mobility and reflexes. Heavy-headed we marched onwards along the river's edge.
Lovely park on the outskirts of Carlisle
Cows freely roaming in the city park!
After another hour we were finally in the city centre. It was a strange feeling being somewhere so bustling after the last few days we had had. Our energy levels at all-time lows whilst people raced back from work to the comfort of their homes and families. At least we had now arrived at the jewel in the crown: Carlisle Wetherspoon!
What a massive relief. We got a nice table, took our heavy backpacks off and removed our shoes. We were going to make sure we got the absolute maximum benefit out of this break. The finish was tantalisingly close.
We ordered every vegan option on the menu (not all pictured)
The bar staff were quite surprised by the qualities of food we ordered. So much so they actually brought four sets of cutlery to the table. Little did they know we had just walked from the other side of the country and were in dire need of refuelling. We also wanted to provide some economic incentive for the pub to continue offering the vegan menu so we progressively made our way through pretty much every available vegan option on the menu.
Lentil sweet potato curry, chips with bean dip & rice, avocado bagel, fries (British chips), some stir-fry style thing with noodles. It was all quite delicious and very reasonably priced too. Highly recommended for a pit-stop.
We knew we were going to be up 'til late hiking so we weren't in too much of a rush to get going. We put our feet up and relaxed whilst reminiscing on what we had just done. However, the temperatures outside seemed to be dropping just like we had been warned. The Sun had now set and darkness was setting in. We ordered some caffeinated cola drinks to get us fired up and got ready for the final sprint.
Cool Carlisle architecture
It was cold. Luckily, we had come prepared for almost any weather conditions with a huge amount of layers. Almost all of them were now deployed. Carlisle had some nice architecture for us to gander at on our way out of the city, including the famous biscuit factories.
The amber lighting was soon to turn to complete darkness. The warm hug of Carlisle fading into the distance behind us. Heading out into the depths of the marshland felt intense. Maybe we had told ourselves the hard work was done and dusted too soon. At least the topography was extremely flat.
Between here and the finish was over 10 miles (16km) of desolate land. Only a handful of tiny villages dotted the road. The tidal motions of the sea regularly flooding far inland. Yet again we tried distracting ourselves from it all by guessing how many cars would pass us by the time we finished. Then we stumbled upon a warning sign. It told us that the very road we were walking on was submerged by water twice a day for an hour or two. Maybe if we had done a shred of research we would have known about this. We checked the listed tide times and by some act of God we had arrived as the sea was on it's way back out.
The cold was becoming more vicious as we hiked down a dead-straight road. It was good that we hadn't had to wait for waters to subside as we would have froze. Keeping moving was paramount. We imagined what the road would look like with the sea covering it. Apparently the water would have been almost up to our waist heights. We couldn't even comprehend it. Our vision was obscured by the darkness. The impending tide was quite intimidating. At least we had long enough to slowly make our way through and out of the danger zone.
Spooky-looking pub
Occasionally, we stopped in the villages for a quick snack. This was the last day of our trip so all the food we were carrying needed to be used up. It reduced the weight on our backs and gave our bodies more fuel to burn to keep us warm. We passed a pub which looked pretty creepy in our tiresome daze. Through the windows we could see happy, laughing, comfortable humans. A complete abstraction from the reality we were experiencing.
I'm not sure I can even put into words the pain I was now going through. Every step was agony. The feeling that we were gradually coming to a halt was horrendous. It was as if we would never make it. Each mile taking longer and longer. Or at least it seemed that way. I was taking myself into an extreme mental state. Somewhere I only ever find myself when I'm really pushing myself to the limit of my physical capability in these endurance challenges. This time it felt different though. I was trying to think in third person. Trying to inspire myself to keep going by using an external perspective of myself. Yeah, kinda weird, eh?
We had a final snack less than two miles from the official Hadrian's Wall start / finish point. I noticed Jack's bag actually had frost forming on it and had become crispy to the touch due to freezing. That made me realise we were in a pretty gnarly situation and the random dog walker had been right all along. We needed to get this thing done as soon as possible. We mustered all the energy we could and got the final stretch done. It felt like it took a lifetime. It was finally over.
Having covered an epic 29.2 miles (47km), which far exceeds a marathon, we hastily unrolled our bivvy bags onto the bench inside the small shelter which marked the terminus of the trail. I deployed one of my foil survival blankets for extra heat retention. The shelter was mainly open with a solid back and roof. Being raised off the floor gave us a little bit more protection from the cold but it wasn't much. Our legs were in such agony and there wasn't much space for both of us on the bench. It took a long while to drift off.
Scotland visible across the water from the finish point
Overnight the temperatures fell even lower to -1 Celsius (30F) and we awoke to an extremely brisk morning. Yet again, a passing early-riser who was doing some litter-picking stopped to have a chat with us. She said she was a local and had never seen anyone using the shelter to camp in before - especially in such low temperatures. She was very amused.
We then spent another hour or so hunkered down as we waited for the bus to Carlisle to show up. We would then be catching a long coach back to London. I was so relieved to not have to do anymore walking.
Reflecting on what I had just achieved on the coach home was powerful. I had been feeling like I hadn't been pushing myself much recently and I had a rush of motivational energy and quickly began dreaming up the next challenge I would attempt to tick off. We had ended up walking almost 100 miles in less than four days elapsed. We had wild camped four nights in a row - which I believe is a new personal record for me. We had crossed from the east coast to the west coast of England by foot and carrying heavy backpacks filled with survival and bug-out gear. We had seen some of the most awesome ancient remains the country has to offer. And, maybe most importantly, we had unlocked new personal levels of mental focus and drive. A successful trip, I'm sure you'd agree.
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Much love,
Joseph