Burny, Burny, Sun, Sun!

Greetings dear reader! As per usual, I’m writing this at silly o’clock the day after the walk, because, as per usual, I was simply in too much pain to sleep! It seems that every year I write this account, I make it sound harder than the year before. Dramatic licence is one thing, but, in actuality, this is absolutely the truth! Saturday 21st June 2025 saw temperatures of around 30 degrees and high humidity. Funnily enough, these are not conditions conducive to an event involving around 12 hours of continuous physical effort!

For the first time this year, I’d managed to convince my best mate to participate in the walk. He did the Keswick to Barrow walk but this was back in April 1986 and times have changed. Mind you, that walk was during the fallout of the Chernobyl disaster, which we suspect is the main reason for his minimalist hairline and prodigious immune system. He got actual superpowers!

I suspect most of the walkers struggled to get much sleep on the Friday night due to how hot and humid it was. We were no exception. Alarms went off at 02:20 and 2 middle aged zombies started shuffling around the house preparing for hell. Application of coffee, toothpaste and Vaseline to, mostly, the right areas of the body and off we set to the Oak.

The Royal Oak in Whitwell has changed much of late. Under new (and improved) management, a highly polished and slick registration process saw us registered, shirted and back outside to mill in and around the massive marquee set up on what used to be the pub car park. (This is actually the 2nd marquee. The 1st had a design flaw which resulted in Grog the landlord having to physically hang onto the damn thing at 3 in the morning during the last strong storm).

Faces familiar and unfamiliar began to appear and mass as the 4 AM start point approached. Once again a fantastic turnout for the day with only 1 no show of the registered walkers. More young people I thought this year than previous, or, I’m just getting old. No coaches required as this was a round robin event, starting and finishing at the pub. 40 miles to Roche abbey and back. Liz gathered us all together for the speech, the minutes silence and always my favourite line “When I blow my whistle a 2nd time, you can set off. Please be respectful of the time of day and keep the noise down for the local residents” (After blowing a loud whistle twice, never ceases to amuse me).

Off we go! 2nd whistle and 100+ walkers bomb bursted out of the car park, charging down the road in absolute (lack of) silence. My friend couldn’t help but notice that within 50 yards “People are actually jockeying for position? They know this is 40 miles right?” I smiled sagely and replied “Ah yes, but this is a race that is absolutely not a race. Make sense?” Takes time for the pack to thin out and in the first mile or so, you get to hear some funny stuff if you listen. Take for instance, the first time young chap with 2 experienced women walkers who confidently declaimed “I’ve done D of E. This will be easy. We had to carry heavy packs on that 10 mile walk!”…Bless him.

It was 18 degrees in the dim dawn light when we set off and for the first 2 hours, this was absolutely wonderful with the gentle accompanying breeze. My friend and I had seen a youtube video on increasing ‘wetbulb’ events globally. This is where the temperature and humidity reach such a point that sweating doesn’t work on bringing your core temperature down. This would become a hot topic (sorry) over the course of the day. We didn’t know what the wetbulb temperature was. I offered to check mine but was advised by my friend this is not acceptable in polite company…

Such was the enthusiasm of the main pack that my friend and I were actually among the last to get to CP1 at Manton pit wood. 10 miles into the walk. This was despite maintaining a respectable 3.5Mph average on the first leg. This could have been viewed as disheartening, but, as per previous walks, the tortoise beats the hare more often than not and there were still over 20 people resting at CP1 as we strode out with bacon sandwiches in hand. (This is the first walk I’ve actually bothered with a sandwich and it was mostly thanks to division of effort. My mate got the sandwiches while I emptied my boots, which are waterproof but strangely, not stoneproof).

Manton to Carlton in Lindrick was where the sun made its presence felt. The canal side was shaded, the trees next to the golf course were shaded, then, you’re in miles of farm fields and shade is very much a thing of the past. At least 17 walkers had to retire this year due to heat exhaustion and we saw our first victims on this leg. Now, the organisers take pains to reiterate time and again that you need water, light clothing and a hat. But, and this is important, the key thing is that having them is half the idea, using them is critical! The number of people we saw with hats attached to backpacks or carried in hand, including one young ginger fellow, who, we suspected may be the first case of spontaneous combustion on the walk if he carried on.

My friend and I also had an issue with hydration as it turned out, despite wearing my knackered old trilby with pride and making every effort to empty my water backpack down my throat. I was out of water by CP2. After several miles of farm fields in oppressive heat, my friend showed his own signs of dehydration in regards to a vocabulary failure. He responsibly applied suncream to himself and then offered me the bottle. I thanked him but shook my head, no. His response with a confused expression “But, burny, burny, sun…sun? For reference, he’s a senior intelligence analyst… “Let’s get you in the shade mate” I suggested.

I carry a 3 litre water bladder in my pack and refilled it to max at CP2 for the 6.47 mile journey between Carlton and Firbeck. It was empty after 4.5 miles. Basically, I hadn’t drunk enough on the first leg and failed to top up at CP1. So it was a cumulative effect and I was therefore starting to show serious signs of dehydration as we headed into Langold country park. “Stay hydrated and don’t die” was the cheerful refrain of the support staff at the mid CP check…Cheers guys, I thought, I’m trying! My friend had to donate some of his water just to get me to the CP and advised he had some spare electrolyte powder. He was quite concerned at this point and suggested I contact my girlfriend to ask about sitting in her car with the aircon on to cool down.

This was a capital idea so I reached out to my very own supporter/cheerleader, who, as it turned out, hadn’t set off for CP3 yet due to us being ahead of schedule and her aircon was broken!...I considered throwing myself in the nearest stream.

CP3, salvation. I don’t usually stop long at CP’s due to fear of seizing up and not wanting to get going again. This really wasn’t an option. Catherine on the support team who is also a doctor, took one look at my face as I walked up to the support tent and quietly asked “You ok Si?” as she filled up my waterbag. “I’m struggling Catherine to be honest. I’ve been dry for the last 2 miles”. I managed to mumble.

“Sit in the shade. Drink all of this and refill before you go”. My mate provided an electrolyte sachet and I stumbled off to the toilets. Soaked my shirt thoroughly in the sink and stuck my head under the cold water tap for good measure. That’s the closest I’ve been to a forced retirement from the walk. Luckily, wet shirt, head, electrolyte and 20 mins rest, oh, and changing into my sandals, was enough to restore me. Alexa turned up with a 5 litre bottle of water ready to drench me, bless her. Good to have that on standby for the rest of the day!

Dripping wet and with a heartrate reduced from imminent failure levels, we set off towards Laughton-en-le-Morthern which takes you through Roche Abbey, the site the route is named for and which I believed marked the half way point. This is not the case, having passed half way before CP3, you’re nearly 2/3 done by the time you get to Roche Abbey, which is very pretty as it happens, but I didn’t care after 26 miles and nearly collapsing. A gentleman and his dog were sat in the courtyard offering words of encouragement to passing walkers. Unfortunately, reminding walkers that the last 14 miles are “where it gets hard” is not as encouraging as he maybe thought.

From CP4 onwards, we finally got some intermittent cloud cover and spots of rain. There was a thunderstorm warning but this never actually materialized, sadly. It would have been welcome! Laughton to Anston and then onto Netherthorpe, coined a new popular phrase between my friend and I. “We’re still in sodding Anston!” North Anston, South Anston, it’s ALL Anston! I’ve seen more of Anston than I ever want to see again in my life. Hydration had returned a sense of humour but when you’re constantly doubling back on yourself, this can have a negative impact on anyone’s affability. It was also at this point in the day that my friend’s top of the line Garmin, despite not putting a foot wrong all day, decided it was also confused by the Bermuda triangle that is Anston.

We finally escaped Anston and reached the aerodrome in Netherthorpe. This was the final CP before the last push for Whitwell. The support teams who had been brilliant as ever during the day, were backed up by some retired walkers to offer cheers and encouragement as you approached the tent. I do love this part of the walk, friends and strangers coming together in recognition of a good cause and a bloody difficult challenge. It’s a massive pick up to anyone who’s flagging and I think most are by this part of the day.

The last stretch is always cruel. This is totally by design from the walk organisers/designers, sadists one and all. Usually it’s by way of a long detour taking you in the opposite direction to the one you want to be going. This year, it was a long, long straight road towards Whitwell woods, only to then turn left and make you skirt the entire wood before dropping you out at the wrong end of the village! No matter, just a small case of walking up one big hill, down another and then up the steepest hill in the village to the finish line…

We finished to thunderous cheering and applause. 38th and 39th respectively despite being at the back of the pack at CP1. Told you, tortoise vs hare. Every year. A word on weight. Not only was this the hottest walk I’ve done, it was also my heaviest. I’ve done the walk once at 17 stone, twice at 19 stone and this year, at 21! On reflection, 17 was much easier so that’s the goal for this time next year. Regardless of weight, I’m always destroyed at the end of the walk but it’s so worth it for the feeling of accomplishment. My friend could have completed the walk in a much faster time but was more interested hanging out with me, which was a very good job as it turned out. He’s fine by the way, 2 small blisters on his heels for his trouble. Smug bastard, with his ultra lightweight walking clothes, electrolyte sachets, hi-tech socks (WTF?). He was even too good for Vaseline! “No I’ve got this special anti friction roll on stick that marathon runners use”…

He'd have been kicked out of the scouts on account of being too prepared.

Last thanks go to my girlfriend Alexa for again being a fantastic support this year. Sat in the scorching heat with no working aircon waiting for us at each and every CP, always smiling, made a huge difference.