Lantern minus its pike

After a foreshortened weekend of exercise due to the weather (1 amble up and down the line on Saturday only) I decided that I needed to get out again today so trotted off to Hayfield in the High Peak. Using my somewhat aged 100 walks in the peak district book I had planned on walking from Hayfield over Lantern Pike and then up to the lower edges of Kinder scout before dropping down back to Hayfield via Kinder reservoir.

After a late plea from the manager (hereafter known as the bride) Meg was summonsed into the squad of two. She had initially been deslected on the potential grounds of lack of suitability for the half time venue aka The Grouse Inn. Fortunately for Meg under pressure from the bride (and the fall back position of a pint in the beer garden wearing hat and gloves) I agreed to take her with me. As it proved it was a proper pub and let dogs and muddy walkers in thus saving the day if not my ongoing battle against alleged obesity.

Hayfield is a cracking little village nestling in the foothills of Kinder but rarely prone to great weather. Today was a grey but dry day but the cloud was just about high enough to see the tops. Using my aged but previously trusty guide we set off along the Sett Valley trail before climbing steeply towards Lantern Pike. Aiming to reach the top of this veritable mountain, (370 metres is big when you compare it with what I believe is 6 inches), we searched in vain for the "stile on the left". Eventually we realised that said stile had probably dissapeared 20 years ago and by then we had missed the turn. It was still a steep climb so I contented myself with the justification of sufficient sweat occuring. As in previous entries top wicking from the Xmas pressie ensured low residual niff factor! It was then a trek across the fields towards the lunchtime halt. Meg today had clearly learnt from Thursdays jaunt and was only running 30 yards ahead.

Fortified by a nutritous couple of pints but clearly weighed down by a chicken sandwich and seriously dehabilitating salad we encountered the obligatory upwards hoick straight after. This time it was described as a gentle climb that continued for a couple of miles. Added to it being across peat bogs made it seriously hard word. Meg had decided that she was now an uberfit animal charging off ahead in search of water and pools to swim in. Blonde brain to the fore surfaced shortly after as she launched herself into what appeared to be a dark and deep pool. Dark yes, deep only in terms of the depth of mud. What went in a blonde emerged a foul smelling black variety of lab. I did contemplate having to go and drag her out as she struggled to get herself back on firm ground but decided that a times like this dogs need to assert their independance. Anyway she made it and for some strange reason stayed on the path thereafter.

It was great to be away from all signs of civilisation other than the sound of planes high in the clouds approaching Manchester airport. The descent enabled the first outing of the new Leki poles which took a bit of getting used to. Because of the pace I walk at I rarely get anybody come past me but I was overtaken by a guy with a friar tuck hairstyle as I got used to operating the poles. I am sure they will be a benefit to my battered knees in due course but it didnt stop me muttering about speeding monks who shouldn't be out during the hours of prayer........ . and he spoke to me... heathen!

Once on to level ground we decided that Meg needed a swim/ wash in the river despite the temperature being about 4 degrees c. She looked like it was almost sauna'ish which it probably felt like bearing in mind her genetic upbringing.... it can be awfully cold in manchester in winter! Actually to tell you a bit about Meg she is a rescue dog amazingly. (If anyone ever wants a lab then the fantastic people at Chorly lab rescue are crying out for owners http://www.homealabrador.net/). Anyway Meg is somewhat accident prone having run onto a stick utilising her throat as a brake, ... please dont throw them ever for your dog.., requiring lifesaving surgery, having damaged knees and arthiritic hips and all at the age of 6. Hopefully you can see she is a wonderful dog however and her quality of life is enhanced by being out on these walks. Mind you we are both a pair of crocks when we get home.

That was about it for today other than Meg deciding she hates bridges and insisting on crossing the river the wet way. Today was 10.725 miles according to the phone GPS and despite the dog antics and pole learning activities we maintained our 3 miles an hour pace. Calories burnt were hopefully more than consumed and it did feel easier. Next part of the training regime is the joys of Buxton vs Alfreton tomorrow night, 5-a-side on Wednesday and hopefully at least a short walk before the weekend. A minimum of 12 miles a day is still daunting but at least we are making some progress.

The whys and the what fors

Two years ago I completed my first long distance walk The Cleveland Way and I shall be embarking on my second at the start of May 2009. The motivation for the Cleveland Way was to raise money for Marie Curie Cancer Care because my sister Louise was 3 years into a battle against breast cancer. Sadly, last July after five years of fighting the illness, Louise lost that battle at the age of 43. This time I shall be raising funds for Lavender Trust which is the part of Breast Cancer Care specifically aimed at the younger woman. If in some small way the money I raise helps prevent any part of the suffering that Louise, her husband Andy, our family and the loyal group of Louise's friends endured then it will be highly satisfying. Full details on how to donate if you so desire will follow. The picture attached was taken shortly before Louise passed away and is on board a yacht just after Lou had completed the round the island race raising a shed load herself for The Lavender Trust. I'm the hunk (Ha) to her left and Andy her husband is in the pink on Lou's right. Anyway that's the maudlin bit over and "thank god for that" Louise would no doubt have said, Lets get on to the walk.

This time I am walking the Coast to Coast route devised by Alfred Wainwright although I shall be going from Robin Hoods Bay in the east to St Bees on the west coast which is the reverse of the normal route. The reason for doing it back to front is partly because I am a contrary so and so, partly because I want to have the lakes to look forward to and partly because facing west I reckon will mean the sun will be on me more. What sun I hear those who have walked it before say.... mere trivial detail that in my opinion. Once more I shall be walking alone and will carry all my possessions including my tent with me and will hence camp all through the journey. Unfortunately I shall also be carrying an extra stone located partly in the waist area and partly in my ever developing man breasts. More on this subject no doubt as training progresses. The official route is 192 miles so whereas last time I averaged 12 miles per day this time it will be about 16 miles. In addition to these minor hurdles my battered knees and back are also two years older. It is going to be a challenge.

Through this blog I shall record the preparation and training which began last Thursday and subject to acquiring the technology I hope to post regular updates as I complete the walk. Hopefully some part of my ramblings will be of interest even if the minutae of kit details is not. I can sense my dearly beloved losing the will to live as we speak ( I have numbered my maps already and my kit spreadsheet is colour coded) although two weeks without me has to be an incentive. Anyway onward and upward 14 weeks till departure.

1st training walk

Yes I know I'm out of sinc but you will have to bear with me being a technical cul de sac. Anyway with less than 15 weeks to go its about time I started to get back into training. I am under no illusions that despite lumbering round a football pitch reffereeing twice a week and playing five a side I am not walking fit which I find very different. I am however under the illusion that I am at a reasonable level and it is only a question of gettingthe miles in. Doh.... training walk 1 soon proves me wrong on that front.

Todays walk (Thursday) is a 10 mile trot from Lumsdale, a small hamlet just outside Matlock in the Derbyshire Dales, over to Ashover via Matlock Moor and then back through Tansley. Total distance is a fraction over 10 miles measured on my phone through some form of GPS jobby technology. I just press a button and it tells me how far I have walked, time taken etc. On the old stats front I am delighted to find that I am bordering on obese when I calculate my Body mass index prior to the walk. Fortunately the instructions tell me this does not reflect muscle mass. Unfortunately man breasts apparently are not muscle mass. Bugger!!

Ok, after a haircut reduces my BMI fractionally, obese man and his crippled dog Meg start off cunningly planning our arrival at Ashover for lunchtime at the Crispin Inn. All good walking guides emphasise the importance of sustenance when expending energy and to my mind there is no finer sustenance than beer for me and a packet of mini cheddars for Meg. Having set our interim objectives we set off. Early morning has seen a deluge and it is immediately apparent that there are serious amounts of water about. Two minutes from home are some derelict water mills built by Sir Richard Arkwright and nowadays preserved by the Lumsdale society and the waterfalls are in full flow as can be seen. These are a little bit of a hidden gem but its wonderful to have them on our doorstep.

Once we get out into the fields and then into the muds it is very heavy underfoot and hard going. I console myself with the thought that the wet conditions and being obese mean I sink further and am therefore working harder than a malnutritioned normal person. It certainly seems to be working because I am rapidly getting knackered. Meg of course is running around like a loon, trying to swim in anything that even resembles a puddle (she is a labrador and a blonde... fatal combination on the old intelligence stakes) and unaware that we are doing a little bit more than usual. Anyway we make decent time doing my usual 3 miles per hour and make it to Ashover in plenty of time for a sandwich and appropriate liquid sustenance. This food stuffs all right but is clearly making me obese!

Much as I love this walk the one major downside is a really steep climb straight after lunch. (See picture... we go down and then up over that ridge) This does however enable me to test the wicking abilities of my new base layer and windstopper guide. This is a technical bit where the bride starts muttering "sad sad sad" in some form of mantra. Anyway Xmas kit seems to work, I sweat a lot but dry quickly and we eventually get up the hill. Meg having started off like an express train has now decided she is a loyal and devoted dog and will stay by my side. I lovingly taunt her by telling her if she wasn't so blonde she wouldn't have swam so much or ran so much. She looks at me as I if am totally stupid for having a conversation with a dog that can't talk... Told you she was a blonde.

Anyway about the 8 mile mark the legs are telling me that I have a lot of work to do to get fit and I do feel quite weary by the time we get home. Meg goes straight to her bed , curlers in and goodnight Vienna. We have completed the walk in just over 3 1/4 hours walking so the pace is Ok even though the fitness clearly is not. I guess realistically I should have expected nothing more bearing in mind the recent lack of games due to the weather, my food induced obesity (?) and lack of walking. What I clearly have to do is structure my training because worst of all I have carried nothing today. Food for thought when I consider my shortest day on the C2C is 12 miles.