Trailwalker

(Contemporaneous notes from my walk book are in bold, but don't add up the timings: sometimes I noted the checkpoint time after we'd sat down to rest.)

Iain has written a supporter's diary: you'll find extracts along the way.

Our Trailwalk team of Three Mammals and a Dinosaur was Helen, Lorna and me, with support team Iain, Peter and Heather. We'd done a recce of some of the walk we'd be doing at night, visited checkpoints, and our training walks had been the Poppyline marathon (Helen and me) and the Malvern marathon (Helen and Lorna). But I don't think any of us would have claimed a rigorous build-up. But it was too late to worry about that.

I booked in to the Queens at Selbourne the night before the start.

16 July: sitting in the public bar with a pint of Stella, a huge omelette and chips; and surrounded by maps and time/distance calculations. Am I going to be able to do this? If my feet don't get too blistered, maybe. I know Helen and Lorna will do it, and I don't want to let them down. I know I can do 30m, but this is over double the distance. At a guess - if we get that far - I think checkpoints 8-9 will be the killer. If we can make Ditchling Beacon, I reckon we'll make it. Not long to find out.

I tossed and turned during the night, and had some toast for breakfast. Then it was over to the Queen Elizabeth park at Petersfield, where my taxi dropped me by the registration tent. Lorna and Helen rang to say they were very close, but were held up to let the 0900 starters get underway. Soon they arrived, together with support crew Peter and Iain.

Milling around at registration: canine supporter

We registered; Iain and Peter picked up their supporters t-shirts and we donned our team shirt. Then it was time to collect our timing chips and have our kit checked by the Gurkhas. This was a first taste of Gurkha efficiency. There was a great spirit from everyone - Oxfam staff, army and all the competitors and supporters. We headed over for coffee and a snack.

Team gear

Then we lined up for our team photo, kindly taken by Ben

At this point, I had no idea whether I'd manage the distance or not: I hadn't imagined either failing or succeeding. The best word for this is probably 'denial'. Lorna and Helen had done 40 miles of it last year, before terrible weather forced them to stop, so they both had a determined glint in their eye. It was great to meet Eamonn - he was in one of three RW forum teams taking part.

Helen and her fiance Peter: Peter is laughing because he'd just told Helen that he'll only marry her if she finishes...

Me looking pensive at the start (not sure who took this pic)

Gurkhas taking down a tent

Helen had brought supermarket shopping cartons for us to store all our individual kit and food: these would be taken to all the checkpoints so that we could dive in and find what we needed easily. It was a system that worked brilliantly. We decanted our bags, and then there was no putting it off any longer...we headed down the track to the start point. Two Gurkhas gave us a bagpipe fanfare.

Lorna, me and Helen at the start: minutes to go (pic by Iain)

Lorna, Iain and Helen

Then it was 1100, the hooter went off and we were on our way!

Iain writes: Trailwalker 2004 started out for me when Lorna asked me if I’d support for her team. Since I knew all the team members, it seemed a good idea, and besides, it made dead certain I didn’t get roped into walking 62 miles! My first involvement was two weeks ago, recce’ing the route with the team members. This largely involved driving round the route with three back seat drivers! Suddenly it didn’t seem like a good idea! Only joking, it was a very useful exercise, as we found out that the official directions seemed to have not a great deal to do with the actual layout of the countryside. I hope the Gurkhas do better when giving directions for attacking enemy bases with their tanks, otherwise my living room isn’t safe! The night before, Lorna and I packed all our kit up into plastic boxes, and headed over to Heather’s for a final team discussion, and several glasses of wine. This proved useful, as we resolved any outstanding details. We came home early for a good night’s sleep. This was ruined at about 5am when I realised that I hadn’t got any lunch, so I hastily stuck the bread maker on to do its work. We set off about 7:30am, and arrived just before 9am to see a wave of participants leaving. We cheered for Anna and Glenn’s team (The Dirty Thirties) and then headed off to register. This involved filling in pieces of paper, getting kit bags checked, and doing various other useful tasks. We swapped equipment between various car boots, and had an earnest conversation about spreadsheets and breaks at check points. Finally, 11am rolled round, and the teams set off on an imposing challenge! Peter headed back to his car to leave for Brighton to take a break, and I set off for check point two.

Heading out of the country park at the start

The first mile was uphill, through the woods of the country park. The walkers were all bunched together, and we chatted to other teams as we walked. There was a brief shower and we paused to put on waterproofs. So the rain immediately stopped. For the rest of the day, it was glorious sunshine all the way.

Lorna packs her rainwear

It was a gently undulating route to checkpoint one, where the first of the Gurkha marshalls helped us cross the road. Just over Tower Hill at Harting Down, we found the first checkpoint. We'd decided not to have the support crew here, and after we'd been checked in and passed our chips over the timing gizmo, we paused to drink water, eat biscuits and admire the view.

Checkpoint 1: 1254
9.2k
eta 1 hour 40 mins
actual time 1 hour 50 mins

At checkpoint 1: we would walk much of this view

Trailwalk dog Dougal

I chatted to Dougal and his owner: Dougal would walk as far as he could, then join his team's supporters. There were several dogs doing the route, including a wonderful border collie whom we met several times along the route, and at the finish.

We headed for the second-worst hill of the route: a monstrosity called Harting Hill. Contour lines closely packed and a tough haul up to the top. I was very thankful that I'd got my walking poles with me. Helen and I allowed ourselves a couple of breathers on the way up.

After the horrid hill

There were other climbs on this leg, but we'd done the worst one. The scenery was wonderful, although the stony flint paths would take their toll later on.

Lorna and Helen striding over towards Treyford Hill

I think this is the Devil's Jumps at Harting Hill

A nice bit of flat near Westdean Wood

By now, the teams were all strung out, and we were making good progress at a happy pace. Helen's knee was giving her a bit of gyp, so she'd applied a bandage, and said she'd dig out another one at the next checkpoint. The views were wonderful along the ridge.

One mammal, one dino and a bandage

The team (pic by Alistair)

We joined up for a while with the Amblers, who were aiming for a 24 hour journey. Ambler Alistair kindly took a pic, and I chatted to them for the next few k. Then we headed down towards Hilltop Farm to find Iain at checkpoint 2.

Checkpoint 2: 1529
18.7 k
eta 2 hours
actaul time 1529
Timings are out: we're half an hour later than planned. Fab cheese sarnies made by Iain. Niggles: my feet; Helen's knee and some blisters coming. Lorna is fine.

At checkpoint 2

It was great to see Iain - we'd phoned ahead and he'd made some wonderful sarnies with his home-made bread. I wolfed one down, together with a slice of my nut loaf. Iain made us drink and said we were doing brilliantly. Helen dug out her new bandage and Lorna expertly wrapped it round.

When Helen and I had done the Poppyline, she'd reminded me of the advice of an ultra walker she'd met last year at Rottingdean. His advice had been never to think about the total distance, but just to think in terms of how long it was to the next checkpoint. We'd never come to any formal agreement about this, but as a team we almost never talked about how far we'd come and how far it was to go. So at this checkpoint we just said, okay, 8k to go. Iain hugged us on our way, and we headed up towards Graffham down.

Iain writes: Apart from some momentary confusion when I realised I wasn’t wearing my seat belt, and had to pull into the car park, all went smoothly, and I arrived at CP2 without trouble. I parked the car as directed, and went for a stroll to see some of the earlier starters come in. I thought we were well prepared, but was quite amazed by the array of equipment that nearly all the other teams had – gazebos, gas cookers with several rings, as well as portable dining tables. One of the earlier teams even stopped for cigars at the checkpoint, although I’m not sure that filling up their camelbaks with cider was a good idea, given the heat. And talking of heat, some sunblock would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it? I could already feel myself turning bright pink, and it wasn’t even midday! Shortly after that, Glenn and Anna arrived, and I sat chatting with their team and admiring the variety of pasta and quiches that they had been provided with by Glenn’s wife, Lena. It all made my efforts of cheese sarnies and banana bread look a tad mundane. The “Dirty Thirties” eventually left, and I sat chatting to Lena for a bit before heading back to the car to get all the grub laid out. The mammals and dinosaur soon rolled into view, with Fran “bloody hell”-ing rather loudly. Not good news with it being only the second checkpoint! They wolfed down the food hungrily, and set off for CP3. I packed up the car and headed off in with the same goal in mind, where I was to be met by Peter and we were to exchange plastic cartons.

Into the woods

This stetch was just great: although we climbed 145m, it was all very gentle, and I was grateful for the easy going. All round the route we got wonderful texts to cheer us on our way, from Kim, Ruth, Anne, Elisabeth and Judith. Very morale boosting.

Lorna and Helen at the end of Charlton Forest

At the sign for Cockling down: much cheerful giggling

The beekeeper hat comes into its own in the sun

Looking ahead to the climb of Cockling Down

Some of the climbs were deceptive: I don't think this one was as bad as it looked when I stood cursing at the foot of the hill. After a descent, we saw the wonderful sight of Peter making a brew.

It became routine for me to look out for the Gurkha marshalls at the approach to every checkpoint: they were such a welcome sight, and always clapped us home and told us that we were doing well. There were free choccy bars at this checkpoint, but even better was the camp set up by Peter.

Checkpoint 3
26.8k
eta 1600
actual time 1737
Beautifully laid out by Peter: lovely flat stretch with amazing views. All feeling okay - some blisters forming. Fab coffee.

Helen and I both applied some Compeeds: I had hot spots rather than blisters, I was relieved to find, but I though it best to stick some plasters where my feet were hurting to prevent further damage. Helen and I giggled as we tried to get the damn things to stick to vaselined feet. Up to this point, I'd been walking in my boots, but I decided that I'd change to running shoes at the next checkpoint. Lorna told us to eat something - can't remember what I ate now. Then it was time to move again.

Shadows beginning to lengthen

Looking cheerful not far from checkpoint 4

In all my worrying about the event, I'd never imagined myself enjoying it: it just seemed like a terrible ordeal to get through. But this was great, and none of the hills was too awful. The weather was glorious and no one was suffering. Along this stretch, we heard sky larks singing.

And checkpoint 4 is now just in sight...

Checkpoint 4
36.1k
eta 1820
actual time 2004
Peter made soup! We have made up some time.

Peter making soup

Sock change

Peter had made us tomato soup: it was wonderful to be given something to eat with no choice about the matter. I downed mine with half a croissant. Then I changed into my Brooks running shoes, with the intention of changing back to boots later. I never did. My feet were aching, but still no sign of blisters. We knew it would get dark over the next leg, so we packed our fleeces. We got chilly quite quickly once we stopped.

This next stretch was the longest one, at 12.8k. Another thing we found ourselves doing was never referring to the distance in miles: it was always kilometers.

Heading off into the night

We crossed the river Arun, and after a slight navigational problem, headed up High Titton road. This stetch also contained the highest climb: up 258m and quite a hike up Amberley mount to the ridge above Rackham Hill and Kithurst Hill. We passed a beautiful house, with amazing views over the ridge. Somewhere round here, we met the nice marathon runner we'd chatted to earlier: he was returning to find his two team mates whom he said didn't have the route map. We'd seen them at the checkpoint, so let him know. A bit alarming if they didn't have maps with the night coming on...

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