The (Roller) Coaster

It was my time to get off my arse and do something for charity.
I did it, I bloody did it, 14 days, 192 miles walked, blistered feet, torn off toenails and one broken iPhone. I made it and still to this day can’t believe I walked from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay walking with my own two feet carrying everything i needed on my back.

The charity i picked  Cancer Research UK. I dedicate the walk to My mum, her friends and Kerry who have all been affected by some form of cancer in the past year or so. My Just Giving account is still open for the next month so if you want to donate you still can. So far i’ve made £810 which is great.

What is the Coast to Coast? And why?
Devised in 1973 by late Alfred ‘glutton for punishment’ Wainwright, the Coast to Coast is a long distance walk which sees in three national parks: The Lake District, the Yorkshire Dales and the North Yorkshire Moors. The route was designed to be walked in 14 days and starts in the Cumberland holiday village of St Bees. The walk ends in the picturesque fishing village of Robin Hood’s Bay. For more info on the route please visit the wiki page.

Why did I choose this walk? Well, as most of you know when the Tibetan trip was cancelled I ended up racking my brains for some other nonsense to do. I came up with the idea of walking across the country after watching BBC4′s Wainwright Walks with Julia Bradbury (The cover girl for ramblers and country folk). I had the idea in my head it would be a pleasant stroll in the country not knowing that it would nearly break me, destroy my feet and curse the name Wainwright forever.

I bet her toenails didn’t fall off.

On the 12th of August I set off for St Bees, my idea was to use twitter along the walk and raise more money for charity. but you will find out I had to abandon that when I had to say goodbye to my iPhone.

This blog will be a tad different to normal style. So I’m not going to babble on like I normally do (I can hear you all breathe a sigh of relief). Instead its a photo blog of my adventure from coast to coast.

So off I go on the 192 miles Journey from the edge of the Irish Sea to the North Sea.

Pleasant little St Bees was bustling with old people and tourists visiting the area on that windy afternoon. I spent most of the afternoon training and psyching myself up in the Coast to Coast pub drinking cider.
Wainwright or AW starts the walk off with a steep hike up on to the cliffs. At this point we are going north for a few miles before turning east until we reach the north sea 192 miles away.

Let me introduce to you Alex Super Tramp 2.0, he would be my walking buddy for the next two weeks and what great company he would be, though he couldn’t grow a very convincing beard and I think he was secretly jealous of my monster.
Beards aside he He was like a flipping walking GPS, his map reading skills were second to none and didn’t get us lost once on the trip. Hats of to him.

Lunch on the Dent hill, Hang on, since when were hills this bloody draining on the legs? Our first of many fells to ascend and this was a rather long slog to the top. But nothing compared to what we had in store for us during the next few days.
We take one final view of the Irish Sea and say goodbye to the Isle of Man which keeps drifting in and out of the sea mist before heading down in to the valley of Nannycatch (Great name, it sounds naughty) which is the gateway to the Lake District.

Our first view of the Lake District and what a mighty fine view it is. But you do have to wonder who lives in a house like that? We have still got at least 3 hours of walking before we get to the campsite at Ennerdale Waters. and my feet are starting to feel it. I remember thinking Shit, I’ve still got 13 days of this, Man up Sam, Man up.

Ennerdale Water is the most remote and most stunning lake in the whole of the National Park and you can see why AW picked this route.
The day we get to the lake it was cold and shrouded in low lying clouds so no swimming for us. Still, it looked inviting to jump in. It was a long hike through the pine forests with such famous fells as Great Gable & Pillar looming in and out of the clouds. At the end of the valley you pass the most remote hostel in the whole of the Lakes, happily named The Black Sail Lodge. It reminds me of something out of a David Lynch film. I kept thinking I would see a midget dancing and speaking backwards at me, but alas I didn’t so we carried on.

Our first real test of stamina, hiking out of Ennerdale Valley via Loft Beck. I say ‘our’ but really I mean ‘me’. Alex zoomed up the 1000 feet gully with no problems. Me on the other hand were 5 minutes behind him cursing the name Wainwright under my breath as I clamber to get air in to my lungs. “Bloody Wainwright”.

Still, the panoramic views from the top of Ennerdale Water and Buttermere made the pain worth it. From here it was a short walk to Honiston slate mine for a cup hot chocolate and a pasty before a quick march down to the campsite at Rosthwaite. I say quick, i mean sprint as someone mentioning no names (Alex) was on the verge of shitting himself.

We escape Rosthwaite by heading up and over Greenup valley, this was one of my favourite parts of the whole Coast to Coast. The view was magnificent so we ended up walking along the high ridge to Helm Crag before heading down in to Grasmere to stuff our grubby little faces with more pasties & pies. Hey, it’s all fuel.

After a well deserved sleep in a real bed we met up with this character called Sol. A newspaper journo who was writing a story on his coast to coast journey. He had a rough start when his friend bailed out on him on the second day and on the third day getting lost for 8 hours on the top of the fells around Grasmere. He kept us amused with stories & tales and was a welcome addition to our growing coast to coast army.

Heading to the angelic village of Patterdale the morning mist closed in on the high fells so tackling the mighty Helvellyn was out of the question. Today is the shortest day on the whole Coast to Coast, a short 8 miles up and over to Patterdale. The idea was to push on and go past Patterdale for a few miles and wild camp to cut down tomorrows mammoth 16 miles to Shap. Little did we know that the weather was turning for the worst and our problems were only just beginning.

A spot of wild camping? Why not? Well to be honest we didn’t have much of a choice. The rain was beating down on us and the wind was hitting gusts of up to at least 40mph up on the fells. With my Tent set up we spent the night drinking whiskey and playing cards. One of the highlights was watching Sol trying to take a piss in the empty whiskey bottle as he didn’t want to go outside. This is the last photo from my iPhone as water + iPhone don’t get on very well. The next day we hiked over 13miles in the pouring rain to our finally destination in the Lakes District, Shap. Wet, battered and drained this was the lowest point of the trip and I nearly chucked in the towel and called it a day. I have never been in weather like it, On the high fells the wind was so strong it was turning the rain in to ice daggers that stung my exposed skin. I’m sure the view from Kidsty Pike are breathtaking but for us the view was non-existent with visibility down to a few meters. Even when we descended to Haweswater Reservoir the rain didn’t let up and the path turned in to a stream. Everything was soaked, clothes, sleeping bags, tents and even one of our coast to coast books was destroyed. I picked up the book, “Fuck you Wainwright” I shouted, and launched the book in to a thick bush of bracken. Arriving at Shap cold, wet and extremely pissed off I booked myself in to a B’n’B to get a good night sleep…… After a quick cheeky pint of Wainwright bitter and a Cumberland sausage down at the local. :-)

Wow, what a difference a good nights sleep makes. We leave the Lakes behind us on a full stomach of Black Pudding and cumberland sausage courtesy of the lovely Jean who owned the BnB.
Heading over the noisy M6 motorway towards Kirby Stephens we come across two more coasters. A father and son team from Bristol, Fred and Andy. Fred a retired builder and Andy a music teacher these two filthy mouthed lads would make up the final two in our coast to coast army. The day was long, 20 miles long and when we finally arrived at Kirby Stephens I said bollock to the camping and booked myself in a hotel/pub. We spent the next few hours drinking cider before it was time for me to go upstairs and nurse my blisters before heading to Yorkshire.

Great spot, Brilliant. I need to say no more!

Off we go to Keld in the heart of the Yorkshire Dales. The day was long but enjoyable, everyone was in high spirits. We had to bypass the Nine Standards Rigg because of all the rain in the past few days had made it nearly impossible to walk on the Moors. Instead we walked along the road which was pretty tough going before heading on to the muddy low lying moors till we hit Keld later on that afternoon.

We made it to North Yorkshire, so why not celebrate with a Brucey?

In Keld I introduced Andy to the world of Comedy Cocking. He took to it like a duck to water and for the rest of the trip he was eager to pull off some quality comedy cock moves.
Keld is lovely and if anyone enjoys a spot of camping I would highly recommend the campsite in the village. nestled beside a bubbling brook with the sounds of the waterfalls echoing off the valley walls it was a perfect place to crack open the ciders and chew the fat around the fire until the early hours of the morning.

Walking up and down fells is nothing compared to the slogs along the road sections of the coast to coast. The pain on my feet after 15 miles of walking on tarmac was unbearable and every patch of grass I saw I walked on just for a bit of a cushion. The worse thing about this part of the walk was the only pub along the way had closed down so not even a quick cider to wet the pallet.

The last national park was the North Yorkshire Moors, and to be honest I knew nothing about them so i didn’t have a clue what I was instore for. The sun beaming down on us as we left Osmotherley we hiked up to the moors. Once reaching the top we were greeted with thick, rich purple heather that carpets the flat tops of these moors.
It was another long day, about 20 miles and the last 3 miles I was fighting with my right ankle as it was starting to give under the strain.
Our camp for the night was in the beer garden of the Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge. This 16th Century Pub was a welcome sight (for my ankles) and it really is in a remote location. From the outside the Lion Inn is nothing special but once you duck through the tiny door it had such a cosy atmosphere and was a perfect way to finish such a great but hard day of walking.

I think the face says it all, not far to go now but A.W has one last surprise in store by taking you the long way to Robin Hood’s Bay. Just like the start of the walk A.W take you along the coast but this time heading south to the finish line.

No this isn’t a poor mans boy band striking a pose but a group of Coasters that have walked from the Irish Sea to the North Sea. In my head I couldn’t quite believe I was here and found myself trying to take in the past two weeks. I had my second wind and found myself powering on and remember very little of the coast line until we reached the first site of Robin Hood’s Bay. Fighting the hoards of tourists that line the streets of this picturesque coastal village we make it down to the bay. Passing Wainwright’s Bar overlooking the bay to a rapturous applause from the other Coasters we had met along the way. I felt like I had won gold at the Olympics. What a rush.

At last, dipping our toes in the North Sea. 192 miles completed with no mode of transport except my own two feet.

Cheers, some of the Coasters who finished on the same day as us having a well deserved drink at Wainwright’s Bar.

Take that Wainwright, job done…. now pass me my pint.

This is the real time data downloaded from my GPS.

View Larger Map

I still can’t believe that I’ve walked across the country and to be honest I didn’t think I was going to make it at some points. It was far harder than I thought it was going to be.
Would I do the coast to coast again? quite simply…….No. Not because it was hard, disappointing or boring. Far from it, it was one of the best things and I learnt more about myself in two weeks than I did in a whole year away. I’d rather do another long distance but walk somewhere else.
It sounds big headed but I’ve done it, I don’t need to do it again. I’ve walked all the way across the country so you can say I am a true Coast to Coaster and that puts a big smile on my face. So Mum, her friends and Kerry… this was for you.

So I would like to thank the following people for their generously, you are all stars and you kept me going.
Russell Holliss
Alice Berry
Liam Weston
Georgina Mavris
sari head
Viking Thaumas
The Echo
Kerry Mallett
Han19was18now26
A poor person
Charlie H
Cousin Paul
Claire R
Jono
Richard Smith
Sally Dunlop
Marion
Rebecca Steiner
Colm
Ivan
Molly
Emma (Sis)
Mum & Dad
Monique Daniels
Nicki Daniels
MartinG
Jen Hawkins
Juerie
El’leica’ Bartlett
Katie
Youngsy
Ben Ackland
Melanie Smith
Me
ANNA MAC
Hannah Peters
Steve D
Matthew Hargreaves
Jason Cronin
Kiri
Linda Duits
Leonie Pony Watkins
Nova Rella
Zoe HMV
Lee Sparey
George
Jodie
Grubby
Annaliese bounden

And a special thanks to Alex the Super Tramp, Sol, Andy and Fred…. Plus all the other great coasters I’ve met along the way.

3 Responses to “The (Roller) Coaster”

1. Mum says:

   October 14, 2009 at 7:54 pm

   Thank you. I am very proud of you
2. Dad says:

   October 14, 2009 at 7:55 pm

   Brilliant account of a ‘sweet and sour’ walk. I guess you won’t forget it in a hurry!
3. 6 Months in Review 2009: July – Dec « The Random Photographer says:

   January 7, 2010 at 10:00 pm

   [...] I walked 192miles across my fair country, on the epic Coast to Coast path devised by the late Alfred (glutton for punishment) Wainwright. I managed to raise £1000 for Cancer Reseach UK as well. You can find out how I got on, here. [...]