(Not) The Northern Traverse (Coast to Coast) with Silverback Trails and Paul.

28/03/2026 – 01/04/2026

On 2nd April 2025 I signed up to The Northern Traverse, a footrace from St Bees on the west coast to Robin Hoods Bay on the East Coast with 110 hours to complete, 1 hour less than the normal 111 as the clocks were going back in the early hours of 29 March.

I had my eye on this event for a few years but on other years it was not in the school holidays, in 2026 it would be.

In the approaching weeks I had purchased extra kit that I would not normally own, 2 x 300g insulated jackets an inflatable sleeping mat. I stocked up on sports nutrition knowing that the event nutrition may not be ok for me with my intolerances to garlic onion and spices.

I spent time working out a plan to get me across the country in under 96 hours (4 days). This race was my major focus. Then unexpectedly, on March 12 I got an email from the organisers Ourea Events, Northern Traverse 2026 – Event Cancelled. I was devastated.

I had spent £800 entry plus all the kit. All the training and prep was for nothing. My mind went into overdrive. How could this happen? How can I still do it? Why wait till 2 weeks before the event? They must have known they were not going to run it. Why not cancel in November before we all paid another instalment of £350? I was angry, upset, and disappointed. Also cancelled were the Lakes Traverse, Dales Traverse, and Moors Traverse.

The next morning, I received a message from Adrian at Silverback trails offering a chance to still complete the route. I took it. It would not be the planned event, but it was the chance to complete the route with support. Adrian and his wife Sam would provide transport as mobile checkpoints for food and sleep, trackers, and food. One other person would be doing it too, Paul. We were to stay together where possible.

I don’t have much experience of running in the Lake District. I knew that the first section from St Bees to Shap would be challenging. But I hoped to get to Shap before a longer rest, then take it from there, Aiming for about 50 miles a day.

27 March Billy and I loaded the car and headed for St Bees, arriving just before 4 pm. We checked in to the Seacote Hotel and booked dinner and breakfast; we then went for a walk. We went to the shoreline to pick a pebble to carry on the journey with me and wandered over to the main village. In the post office I remembered that my coast-to-coast passport book was in the car, we bought another and got the first stamp.

At dinner I was disappointed not to have the option of fish and chips so picked gammon instead, it was a massive portion, I couldn’t manage it all. I was feeling sick with nerves. It was good to chat with old friends Richard, Sean, Chris, and Anna on the next table. They were part of another group, Sea to Sea 300 run by Centurian Events. Centurian events and Community Traverse were 2 other groups providing trackers and some checkpoints. Community Traverse had managed to set up checkpoints across the country and said everyone was welcome to use them, which I thought was very kind. It was nice that there would be plenty runners on route too. There would be around 30 runners on the Centurian event and about 40 on the Community Traverse. The Community group also were supporting Lakes Traverse, Dales Traverse, and Moors Traverse runners. There were also likely to be other runners on route too. The Community Traverse runners were leaving at 6 am and 8 am, the Centurian runners were going between 9 am and 11 am.

I then went to meet Paul, Adrian, and Sam. This was the first time Paul and I had met. We sorted our meet time in the morning, 8 am with an 08:30 start time.

It was not a great night's sleep, I was overanxious, the wind was howling and a can or bottle rattled around in the courtyard. Shortly before 5 am people talking and packing a vehicle below our window woke us. I gave up resting and started to prepare my kit. It was going to be a long day.

We went over to meet the others in the carpark near the start of the Coast to Coast got the trackers, Adrian went over the route diversion with us. There was a land slip on the cliff and so the path was closed, and the Coast-to-Coast route was diverted, the route he had plotted was different to the official coast to Coast route that had officially opened as a national trail on 26 March. This route differed from the route that we had which had been taken from the Northern Traverse website, we had also downloaded a low-level route to avoid Kidsty Pike in adverse weather conditions.

St Bees to Ennerdale Bridge (about 12.5 miles)

The first 20 miles were rolling and quite a lot of road/track. I had planned to walk ups and run all downs and flats, however I could not get my breath and walked more than planned. Paul and I chatted getting to know each other, he was good company and very patient with a pace that was so steady. Soon the morning sun was warming us, so we stopped to remove jackets and enjoyed a few miles in the spring sunshine. We made a minor route error, following the more obvious route down a wet lane. We realised our mistake and were faced with other runners running towards us. We continued retracing our steps and soon the other runners raced past us.

All too soon the sky darkened and we stopped to replace our jackets, just in time as the rain turned to hail. The countryside started to change as the hills grew into mountains and the herdwick sheep grazed around us. Paul found a giant horseshoe and rested it against a bridge for luck.

 

Soon we arrived at The Gather Café Checkpoint. I got my passport stamped and used the facilities before carrying on down the road to the vans.

Ennerdale Bridge to Rosthwaite (about 27 Miles)

Following lunch and a restock of snacks in our packs, we set off along out first lake of the adventure, Ennerdale water, it was stunning with the sun glinting off the surface in the deep rocky surround of the mountains.

The terrain started off ok but soon became more craggy. At one point, about halfway down the lake, there was no obvious path. I had not been looking at the trace on my watch as the trail had been quite technical. Looking at my watch, we were a long way off route, at least 100 m to low down. Not good. We set off retracing our steps and came across another 2 runners, they were Centurian runners. They said there was another route, but it meant going back to the start of the lake. We opted to follow these guys. We got back to the section where the path appeared to disappear. The guys scrambled up the rocks, we followed. I was not keen on this bit but there was no option but to keep moving forwards. Eventually our trace met with where we actually were. We looked around but could see no obvious trail joining ours. This is an example of sometimes not blindly following a line on your GPS system. I was glad it was daylight and we could male

sense of the situation.

 

From the end of the lake, we were on the long climb to Honister Pass. Staring as a nice wide track we were making decent progress. All too soon the trail got narrower and steeper. We stopped in at Black Sail YHA taking advantage of the honesty shop for a calorie boost before the steep climb up the first of the 4 big climbs of this 50-mile section. I really struggled, I couldn’t catch my breath and felt quite weak, but I slogged my way upwards. As we reached the top and turned to take in the stunning vista, the snow started. We didn’t hang around and set off down to Honister slate Mine.

I grabbed another stamp in my passport, realising that I had missed one at the end of Ennerdale. We carried on towards our checkpoint 2, it was nice to be going downhill for a change. At times it was a bit steep and slippery, but we were making good progress again. Friends of Paul, Adrian and Sam were there to greet us.

Rosthwaite to Patterdale (about 42 miles)

Following a good feed and restock of our packs, we put on warmer clothes as we headed off into the evening. I felt I was faffing, but I had to get the kit right going into a night on the fells. We wanted to make as much progress as possible before dark. This section would have 2 peaks to challenge us. The first, Paul remembered from a Recce, had green slimy rocks to navigate. It again started off quite gentle but soon became steeper. Again, as soon as it got steeper, I began to struggle, I said Paul should go ahead and wait in a sheltered area rather than go at my snail's pace. I tried to keep up but the distance between us would quickly increase. Over the brow of the hill, he waited for me out of the worst of the bitterly icy wind. Night fell and it was time to put on the head torches. Mine would not work. I changed the battery and it still did not work. Fortunately, I did have a second torch, not as bright and I was unsure as to how long it would last. I put it on a medium beam. I then had the technical downs to navigate down into Grassmere on a lower light than I would have liked. I worried that I was too slow for Paul, but we were making steady consistent progress. The second ascent of this section felt brutal, never ending, the freezing wind blowing. There were headtorches ahead, so I knew we were not alone. We made a nav error, taking the most obvious path. We backtracked getting back on track quite quickly. Time passes differently at night, and we arrived in Patterdale around midnight. The Community Traverse checkpoint people invited us in. We thanked them and carried on past to the vans.

Patterdale to Shap (about 58 miles)

The wind was picking up; it was bitterly cold. Adrian told us that some people were taking the low route, which was longer and flatter, and some were taking the high route over Kidsty Pike. This section had been worrying me for weeks, tales of difficult to get off from the top, often foggy and disorienting at night. Kidsty Pike 780m, the highest section of the whole route. We decided to take the high route. After a bit of fiddling my main headtorch decided to work.

It was a long slog upwards with a brighter light, not too technical but relentless. As we got higher, we got to the snow level with traces of old snow and then it started to snow, blowing and swirling around us, it was not thick heavy snow, more like small light flakes, but it was settling. I was in front and made a mistake, again following an obvious trail. Paul called to me that we were off route. I was cross with myself; I had checked the trace at every path junction. We went back and found the path. It was not easy to see it in the light covering of snow. We set off up the hillside and started to see some footprints. We used these to guide us off the top. My logic being that as it was snowing the footprints were fresh and surly only people on Coast to Coast would be up here at this time of the morning.

Paul took the lead down, far more confident on the technical descent. We were glad to see Haweswater glinting in the darkness. As we made our way along side the reservoir the skies lightened and we could turn off our head torches. We were 50 miles in and heading for Shap. A longish road section was welcome for the ease of navigation, I as still struggling to run for any significant length of time, the wintry night had not helped my asthma at all. We were happy to see the remains of Shap Abbey meaning that there was not far to go to reach the checkpoint and have a longer rest.

It was starting to rain as we arrived in Shap, and the forecast was for rain and wind all day.

We got changed and warmed up and had an hour's rest. I had a dreadful cough but felt better for warming up and using my inhalers.

I put on waterproof socks for this section knowing the rain was expected to be all day and also that there was likely to be boggy wet areas.

Shap to Kirkby Stephen (about 77 miles)

We left Shap in pouring rain and heavy winds. Crossing the footbridge over the M6 was brutal. I had completed some of this section in reverse a couple of weeks ago as part of the Moreland Marathon, so it was nice to have an idea of where to go for a while. Head winds, sidewinds but rarely tailwinds were the order of the day, we pushed through the tiredness and picked ourselves up when we slipped in the mud. As we crossed the moors, we saw runners ahead on a different route as we turned to cross the moors, we reached the road and at this point I knew we could go up the road to get to where we needed to be, but the Coast to Cast signs and our route trace directed us over the road and through an energy sapping boggy slippery section. I looked up and saw my friend Kate. This surely meant we were near civilisation. Kate walked with us to the road and we spotted Adrian’s van on the lay-by. We had not been expecting him there. I checked the route and we aimed to cross the road and head up the next hill, but Adrian instructed us to follow the road down into Orton and an unexpected, but very welcome extra checkpoint.

It was good to get warmed up. I was struggling to keep my hands warm and dry, all my gloves eventually failed leaving me with numb hands, making it difficult to get food, this was where my bottle of gel came in handy, easy calories without any faff.

After warming up and another set of gloves Kate walked us the couple of km back onto the route to Kirkby Stephen. This impromptu break had been very welcome.

The sun was out for much of this section, but the ground was saturated and becks became raging rivers. I t felt a bit of a slog at times, especially when the Coast-to-coast signs marked distances, felt distinctly untrue.

We were losing the light as we finally entered the back streets of Kirkby Stephen and were glad to see Adrian's van parked up near the school. Billy was there too, a welcome surprise. He had brought more gloves.

 

Kirkby Stephen to Reeth (about 100 miles)

We were entering night 2 and the winds were picking up again, just in time for our climb up to Nine standards Rigg. We had both completed this section as the Dales Traverse in previous years. 2 years ago, when I had done it, it was during a named storm and there were miles of bogs. Since then, there have been flagstones put down. These would help with navigating.

The climb felt way bigger and longer than I remember, 2 years ago on fresh legs. The wind was brutal and cold. As we approached the top the flag stone started, what a difference a clear path made with a stable surface. However, it still felt never ending.

I was glad to finally see the massive cairns at the summit. Crossing the Rigg was tough, but the flagstones speeded up the process. Paul made short work of the flagstones, I was slightly more cautious as I can be clumsy and trip. I made it down without tripping and that we had the tackle miles of reeds, bogs and water, no distinct paths in the dark. This slowed us down as we worked our way towards Ravenseat. Adrian had said that he would try to meet us at Ravenseat or Keld. I was hoping he would be near Ravenseat as I was feeling the cold and could not feel my hands.

Adrian was not there so we had no choice but to go on. The trail was deep mud and water and reeds again, slow progress. We slipped and slogged our way through it all. I got a stone in my shoe. I wanted to ignore it, but it got under my foot and in the end, we had to stop whilst I struggled with numb fingers to remove my shoe and the stone, then re tie my lace. I kind of recognised where we were and started to hope that Adrian would be at the road crossing before the climb to Swinnergill. As we approached Stonesdale Lane near Keld we were both happy to see the van. The opportunity to warm up refuel and restock was much appreciated.

Setting off again in the dark, tired but warmed up again we set off for Swinner Gill. I took us the wrong side of the ruined house. I have read that the area is haunted and the sheep that our head torches had scared, running out of the ruins terrified me momentarily. It looks so different at night, I worked us back to the correct route and we made our way don to the river and started to climb up through the old mine workings on the long climb, I told Paul to go first as I knew I would be slow, and I was. I slipped more times than I could count but finally made it u to the wide track and headed to Gunnerside Gill. I dreaded this section as I remember it was quite a technical descent, quickly followed by another steep ascent, but happy that this was the last challenging section before Reeth.

The descent was a lot tougher than I remembered, in the dark, by torchlight it seemed that the whole path had eroded or even been a land slip. Getting down was a struggle. At the bottom finally, we zig zagged back up the other side. Cold and wet we made it onto the wide tracks amongst the old spoil heaps from the mining. Needing a bit of sustenance, we stopped at the old Gang Mine workings and sat on a bench sheltered from the bitter wind. It was an odd sort of luxury.

Crossing at surrender Bridge felt like the worst was behind us. I had read that there was a diversion for footpath repairs, but people had put on Facebook that it was only when they were working on it and that it was ok to use it. However, when we were confronted with footpath closed signs and fencing, we inspected it and felt it did not look safe to go through. We looked for a way to get down the steep bank to the bridge but found none, we looked for a way to stepping stone the water, but it was a raging torrent and did not feel safe. I looked up the diversion online; it took us along the water to a Ford. We went that way and the ford was too full. We were flummoxed. I then spotted a road; we could go back by road if needed. We set off and found another ford, crossed it, and decided to head back to the trail. This involves scrambling on grassy banks above the water at times but eventually we found ourselves on the official diversion and intercepted our original trail.

We were both tired heading into Reeth, we followed the signs which, because we were heading to the Dales Bike Centre, felt to add unnecessary distance when we could have stuck to the path by the road. Never mind, we were there, that is what was important.

Adrian was concerned that we were going too slow, but I needed to sleep. I had about 15 minutes and refuelled and restocked before cracking on again.

Reeth to Richmond (about 110.5 miles)

This section was going to be wet underfoot but it was now a lovely day wether wise. We set off together, me trying to run more, but still struggling for breath, I was so frustrated with myself. Paul stopped to take off some layers, and I said I would carry one, he soon caught up. The climb up the steps to Marske had warmed me through and I stopped to strip some layers off too. Paul was now ahead; I could see him but could not catch up. We regrouped in the field crossings briefly, but Paul was running strong, I let him go. I kept seeing him in the distance until the last few miles. I detoured in Richmond to use the loo before going to the Checkpoint. Billy and Tsar met me on the way down the meet point.

Billy had brought Cockburn pork pies and Thomas’ Chocolate orange danishes. Very welcome treats. I decided to change socks and shoes. On removing my Dexshell waterproof socks I was pleased to see my Injinji liner socks were dry. On removing the liner socks, I was disappointed to see a blood blister had appeared on one toe and a hotspot on another. Billy sorted and dressed them for me whilst I ate my lunch and drank my coffee.

When it came to put my fresh trainers on, my feet had swollen so I chose only to wear my liner socks. Little was I to know that this would ruin the rest of my journey. Stupid decision made with a tired mind.

Richmond to Danby Wiske (about 124 miles)

Time to set off on the flattest section of the whole route, 23 miles to the A19. Kate had arrived and said she would walk the start of this section with me. Paul went ahead; he was looking strong.

Kate and I had recced this section, way back in January when the fields were frozen.

After we separated, I was careful to follow the trace and not to end up on the new section of the Coast to Coast which would be a similar distance but more lumpy muddy fields. My shoes started to feel too big, and my feet were moving around in them. I should have brought the extra socks with me. I kept onwards though. My heels started to burn and then became painful. I eventually decided to sit on a rock and see the damage. Blisters. Big fat blisters on the inside of my heels. I dressed them and got going agin. I sent a message to Adrien at Danby Wiske to say I was on my way but now had blisters. Paul was already there and I was 5 miles away. This became a bit of a low point for me. I had slowed down and now was holding Paul up. Sam messaged me and said we could separate and she and Adrian would look after one of us each. This was a bit of a relief.

Just before Streetlam I met Ann, that perked me up. It’s always good to see a friendly face when you’ve been on your own for hours. She assured me that I was still doing well and that I was close to checkpoint now.

Danby Wiske to Lordstones (about 140.5 miles)

Following another refuel and restock, plus treating and taping my feet, I set off for the A 19 crossing, the next thing that had been worrying me for weeks. There was also a railway to cross on this stretch. These 9 miles felt endless, with areas where the Coast to Coast and my trace on my watch did not match. Now into my 3rd night, time and distance had no real meaning to my tired brain and sore feet. I looked forward to getting to the garage before the A 19 crossing and using the facilities and getting a strong coffee. When I finally arrived, Adrian was there to help me across, but I needed the loo first. I got my coffee and crossed the road ably assisted by????. I walked into Ingleby Arncliffe, found a bench ad had a snack and my coffee. I changed the battery in my head torch, there was a long, mainly upward journey to Lordstones and my next rest point, maybe another 9 miles.

I put an extra layer on and repacked my bag. I jogged to Ingleby Cross before crossing a dark, silent A172. Now the start of the main climb. Wide roads and tracks took me up to the Cleveland Way. I had to keep stopping, I was struggling to stay awake. At the Cleveland Way the path narrowed and was more uneven, but I knew this route well, I could tick short sections off in my head, the radio station, the moor, the cattle grid etc.

Coming off the moor to the cattlegrid I was confronted by a large cow, just stood staring at me. I did not know what to do, I was miles from anywhere and all alone. This was the worst situation. I talked to the cow calmly trying to hide my fear, it slowly walked away. I was so relieved. I carried on to the steps down, constantly checking over my shoulder to check the cow was not following. Suddenly there was another one, in fact this one was even bigger and stockier, possibly a bull, surrounded by many other cattle. I stopped in my tracks. Now what? I couldn’t go back and I certainly could not go forward. I just stood getting cold. There may be people behind, there may not be.

I decided to go sideways, breaking through the bracken until I felt that I had put a fair distance between me and the herd. I cut down to the road and aimed down to the cattlegrid from a different angle. I hoped they were not spread across the road.

I could see the cattlegrid and the gate into the woods on the right of it. The cattle were to the left of the cattlegrid at the bottom of the path from the moor. I walked carefully as distant as I could from them and then I crossed the cattlegrid and went through the gate. I breathed a big sigh of relief.

Going along the path in the woods there were vehicles parked up, odd place to leave vehicles I thought, and I could see head torches in the woods below me.

The next challenge is a big field where there are often highland cattle. I really hoped they were not in there tonight. It is the sort of field with lumps and bumps so they could be hidden until the last minute, especially in the dark. However, it seemed there were only sheep in there.

I left Scugdale knowing that this the last set of climbs before Lordstones. I had just started the slippery climb in the woods when my headtorch flashed to let me know it needed a new battery. I stopped and struggled with my cold hands to make the exchange. Once done, I could crack on. I found it arduous work, and the sleep monster was winning. I stopped frequently sleeping on my feet and then having to work out where I was again. At one point I thought I was lost, I could no longer see the lights below me, I thought I must have wandered off in my sleep. I got out my phone, looked on Google maps. I was on the Cleveland way heading for Lordstones. Phew! I got going again, the trig point on Carlton Bank took an age to appear in the distance, but at last it did and I could head downwards at last. I couldn’t focus, my depth perception was shot, I sat down and thought “its ok, I will wake up soon” then it hit me. This was not a dream, I really was doing the Coast to Coast, and the only way down was to get down on my own. I stood up and slowly and carefully got myself off the hillside. Adrian was there to meet me; he left me with Sam so he could meet Paul at the Lion Inn. I was happy to hear that Paul was getting along well. I could keep my eyes open no longer and slept for an hour. I had breakfast, it was now daylight, it was Tuesday, I wanted it to be my last day.

Lordstones to Lion Inn (about 152.5 miles)

Again, on familiar ground, it was nice to have points of the route to mentally tick off. It was early morning but there were still some dog walkers and runners out and about. One runner was my friend Emma, she is training for Race Across Scotland later this year, we walked together for a while. It was good to have a catch up.

I felt like I was managing the ascents and descents quite well, not fast, but consistent. Wainstones was a bit more challenging, clambering through the rocks. I was over dressed and thought I would have a seat at the bench halfway down and have a snack and take off a layer or two. It was a lovely sunny morning, you could see for miles and beyond Roseberry Topping, in the distance was my first view of the North Sea and the East Coast. I was just wondering if I might see my coach, Sarah, this was her neck of the woods. I looked down and there was a person in a rust-coloured jacket, it was Sarah, halfway up the Wainstones. We waked together and sat on the bench, chatting whist I sorted myself out. It really was a lovely morning, the best one so far. All too soon it was time to get going, down to Clay Bank, I said goodbye to Sarah and headed up to Round Hill. Left right left right, onwards, upwards towards the Lion Inn and the next break. I must have been high up because I suddenly had a nosebleed, a lovely lady and her daughter who were walking the Cleveland way stopped to offer more tissue, I thanked them kindly, but I had plenty. I slowed even more whilst the bleed stopped. Just blooming frustrating.

Heading across Bloworth towards Blakey Ridge was five mind numbingly repetitive miles. But I was getting ever closer, I was ¾ of the way through the route.

Adrian was waiting at the Lion in with my lunch, Mashed potato pot, and rice pudding. These had been my staple died now for the last 3 days, with some soup, and cheese and ham sandwiches and porridge pots.

Lion Inn to Glaisdale (about 162 miles)

I chose to ignore my feet as long as I could and keep ticking down the miles. There was lots of road and track on this section, so I hoped to make up some time. Paul was nearly finished.

Like the last section, this one was repetitive and not a lot of changes to scenery. I did see some other runners on this section which was nice. My feet were getting sore on the rocky tracks, and I was slowing even more. I did my best to keep my nutrition up; time had no meaning and all signs to Glaisdale seemed to add distance not reduce it. I could see the sea, taunting me, it looked so closely, but I knew I had at least 20 miles to go, so near but so far.

At one time I was struggling on a particularly rough section and a guy came running up. He offered me some paracetamol. He said that he had set off on Friday night and had struggled with the cold and his crew had taken him to premiere in to warm up. He had sorted his blisters and was trotting along nicely. He told me that there was a checkpoint in Egton bridge if I needed it. I thanked him and he disappeared into the distance.

My shadow was disappearing into the distance too, the day was fading as I saw Adrian's van.

I had to deal with the blisters. Both blisters on the inside of my heels had spread and the one on the left had spread under my foot. Adrian suggested putting my other trainers back on. So, I changed shoes. They felt a bit better. Whilst I did this, Paul finished in Robin Hoods Bay. What an amazing run he had had, his first hundred miler and overnight ultra. I felt guilty that Adrian had missed it.

 

Glaisdale to Maybeck (about 172 miles)

It was getting dark as I entered the woods at Beggars Bridge Glaisdale. I had been through here years ago on the North Yorkshire 100. I was pleased to see that the path had been improved, this made it easier on my sore feet. Going was not too bad into Egton Bridge, I didn’t need the checkpoint, and onwards to Grosmont. I knew there was a hill coming out of Grosmont, but this hill was a monster, 2 ½ km with 2 lots of 33% incline on it.

 

 It was however very bland and felt like it went on forever. Finally, I found myself on a busy A169, there were a few vehicles, but not too many. I crossed and lost the route, where it had been rerouted. After a bit of wandering, I found my way. The path had been improved through what could have been a very tricky section and then downhill road to Littlebeck. At Littlebeck I followed signs for Falling Foss. The route took me into a wood where the path wove between the trees. This went on for ages, from one set of woods to another, I started to feel uncomfortable, the path was not always clear under headtorch. The woods were eerily silent except for the squeaking and creaking of trees. Finally, there was a sign for a car park, I followed it a short way, but it was taking me away from my route, I went back and tried a different route. This one stuck to my trace, so I stuck to it, I just wanted to break free of the woods. Finally, after a couple of miles of woodland wandering, I emerged into the carpark. Adrian was waiting. I needed another sleep before heading out on the final stretch.

Maybeck to Robin Hoods Bay (about 180 miles)

After checking the final section of routes, I decided that my sore feet would prefer road over the unknown surface of the moor. It would be a little further but easier on my feet. We worked out a route and Adrian arranged to meet me at the main turn.

The roads were long and boring, but I was ticking down the last few miles to Hawsker. At hawker I passed the Robin Hoods Bay 2 ½ miles sign and walked past the caravan parks to the cliff tops to rejoin the Cleveland Way. At the joining of the paths, the Coast-to-Coast sign said Robin Hoods Bay 3 ¾ miles, gutting.

The cliff path was rutted with many steps up and steps down. Ouch my poor feet, still I was nearly finished. I was glad to get to the Rocket post field and hoped the cattle would not be in the final field. They were not.

 

 

 

The sun was rising and it was so peaceful looking over the cliff to the finish line far below. As I emerged opposite the car park, I could see Billy, Adrian, and Tsar. Down hill all the way now.

 

“Whose are those shoes?” Billy asked pointing at my feet. I looked down in confusion. Theses were not my shoes, they were Paul’s.

 

We made our way down through the village together. Me tentative on tender feet. We made it to the dock, thank goodness the tide was in, not far to go to wet my feet and throw my stone into the sea.

Adrian congratulated me and resented me with a lovely handmade memento by Sam, of the elevation of the route.

We then had to get back up to the carpark. 191 miles with my little detours in 93 hours, 20 minutes and 45 seconds. Well under my 96-hour target, it could have been so much quicker if my feet had not got into such a mess, but it was well under my 4-day (96 hour) goal.

I was relieved to get to our car, I removed Paul’s shoes and my socks to reveal horrendous blisters, 4 toes had blood blisters on my left foot, and my heel was blistered on the inside and under it. My right heel had a massive blister on the inside and a smaller on on the outside and 2 toes were blistered. And my left ankle was massively swollen. I put Billy’s crocs on and a warm jacket to catch up on some sleep on the way home.

We were on the way home when Adrian messaged to say I still had the tracker, wer went to meet him to give it back.

When I got home and bathed, I slept 6 hours solid. When I awoke my feet and ankles were swollen and painful, I struggled to walk. Over the coming days I did a lot of keeping and a lot of resting my feet. I have no chaffing, no DOMs, only painful feet and left ankle.

4 days on my left ankle is still swollen but my blisters are healing, and I have managed a short slow walk daily, lots of stretching and sleeping.

I could not have completed this with out Paul, whose company and assistance in navigation got us over halfway, I hope I didn’t hold him up too much. Without Adrian and Sam who gave up 5 days of their life to support our adventure.

To Billy for his patience support and confidence in my ability to complete this adventure.

To Ann, Kate, and Sarah for popping up en route to offer your support.

I think that’s it for me for long continuous events. I have crossed Scotland in 2023 and now England.