Re: Bob's Bits.

The weather we have been having recently is a real treat, if a bit unusual! Loved the photos. Keep it up.

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Thanks Penny, nice to see you here.

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Robert - a 10 miler sounds more than adequate to me

Yes, I think you've well earned your bacon sandwich!

That made me smile about the double decker bus. Our walking group love them. We always go upstairs

Re: Bob's Bits.

My Lyke Wake Love Affair.

The ‘Lyke Wake Walk’ is a prestigious walk of forty two miles from Osmotherly near Thirsk, to Ravenscar on the East Coast of Yorkshire. It was the brainchild of Bill Cowley, a North York Moors sheep farmer who wanted to open up a long distance path across the North York Moors following the journey of Cistercian monks who liked to bury their dead at sea. Walking was not as popular in the fifties as it is now, and the journey would be long and arduous with no paths to follow, other than the sometimes faint and meandering sheep tracks. The moors were overgrown with heather, and in some places bracken, and there were large areas of peaty bogs waiting for the unsuspecting traveller to disappear forever into the bottomless void of the black, oozing mire.
In 1953 Bill and some friends managed the first traverse of the Lyke Wake Walk and started what would be, one of the first and most famous long distance footpaths of the twentieth century. A club was started with membership to anyone, who, after the submission of a report, could complete the traverse within twenty four hours. The badge would be a coffin, in memory of those monks who supposedly made the journey carrying a casket containing a deceased comrade.
My interest in the Lyke Wake had been aroused in 1980, after my Father-in-Law informed me that he had been appointed to lead a party from the Yorkshire Bank across those soggy moors. And furthermore, there was a spare seat. It stirred the adventurer in me, and I wasted no time in securing said spare seat. Because the Lyke Wake is linear, support is essential, especially for anyone crossing for the first time. Driving support is a thankless task, with miles of unfenced moorland roads and tracks to navigate, and sometimes drivers have to endure the complaining of tired and grumpy competitors, who wished they hadn’t been so quick in volunteering to raise a few quid for the needy and disadvantaged. So an opportunity like this doesn’t come very often. There are around seven official checkpoints on the Lyke Wake, and having transport at every one allows unsuccessful competitors the chance to retire and ponder what could have been.
A midnight start is recommended, it is easier to find lost and injured participants in daylight. Also, setting off around the longest day is also recommended, staggering around the North York Moors in the dark can be tricky. And so at midnight on June the 28th 1980, over two hundred walkers set off in small groups every hour, and that was just competitors from various other Yorkshire Bank branches. I understand that over one thousand hopefuls began their attempt that night. Following the dancing light of torch beams, we struck out into the night, spirits were high and humorous comments filled the air. Walking was easy around Osmotherly, and with a long procession of walkers stretching into the darkness navigation wasn’t difficult, in fact it was quite mystical the way torches illuminated the path into the distance. Eight miles covered and the first checkpoint came into view, spirits were still high and hot soup and rolls were on the menu. Best if you don’t get too comfy here, many did, and failed to resist the urge of a warm bus back to Osmotherly with a full belly. By the time we reached the disused railway track at fifteen miles, fingers of light began to cascade across the eastern horizon, a gentle pattering of rain dabbed our faces, and all chattering had stopped, we walked in silence to the next checkpoint at Ralphs Cross about half way. The dried up sandwiches were ignored, as hasty repairs were made to blistered feet while gulping down hot sweet tea. I had resisted the temptation to wear sturdy boots in favour of running shoes, and although my shoes were wet and blackened with stumbling through the odd peat bogs, I felt no discomfort and decided to leave well enough alone, I despatched a couple of dried up sandwiches…. And they tasted wonderful. In the daylight we couldn’t believe our eyes, the rain had stopped, but laid out in front of us were miles of glistening, boggy, water soaked moors. A five mile stretch to the next checkpoint at Hamer House took us hours to cross, sometimes walking as much as a quarter of a mile round to avoid the vast expanse of water that lay before us. Some weary travellers just squelched their way straight through the middle, they had abandoned all hope of finishing and would retire at the next check. My party had dwindled from hundreds down to six, some had retired, some had stopped for long rests, and some were in front, we battled on regardless. Ellerbeck Bridge on the Scarborough to Whitby road, thirty two miles covered, ten to go. I flopped down on a folding chair and stared at the ground while clutching a hot cup of tea and sausage roll. My legs were crying out for mercy, and for the first time during the walk, the mini bus looked inviting. Jack [the Father-in-Law] could see my dilemma and quickly had us on our way, there would be no quitting now. We limped, and staggered the last ten miles, nothing below the waist moved without pain, but from two miles away we could see the radio mast that signalled the finish. It used to finish at the bar of the Raven Hall Hotel, but with popularity the hotel moved up a few stars, and muddy boots were banned, ironically, the thing that brought it fame and fortune had now been relegated to a lonely radio beacon on the top of a featureless hill.
It was the most awesome thing I had ever done, and although I couldn’t walk properly for a week, in my mind I was planning my next encounter with the Lyke Wake. I was awarded a badge and membership of the Lyke Wake Club, I also purchased the book, and the first chapter read “After completing your first crossing, you will either never walk on the moors again, or it will get into your blood and you will return again and again.” At the time of writing, I have completed twenty one successful crossings, including a double [there and back in forty eight hours] and nine annual races over the forty two miles. In all the events I have run over the years, the Lyke Wake remains my all time favourite.

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Thanks Myra, The ten miler was slow - I used to be the Hare, but now I'm the Tortoise...
If I can't drive the Double Decker Bus, then upstairs is the next preferred location Myra.

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Robert you can say what you like, but you are definitely as fit as a fiddle! I get worn out reading about your runs Well done!

I'm off on holiday tomorrow from work and have arranged a walk with some of my work colleagues. We did a walk a few years ago, around the Isle of Cumbrae, about 10 miles. We had a great day. Followed by the pub afterwards and lots of laughs. Tomorrow it's only a six mile walk, from Johnstone to Lochwinnoch - a walk I've done a couple of times with my walking group. A couple of the walkers haven't walked anything near that before, so they're a bit apprehensive. The rest of us will be there to support them. Followed by a pub lunch afterwards . I'm sure we'll all enjoy it. No running will be included, or else we'll end up back in work in high dependency

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Thanks Myra, at the time the Lyke Wake was the hardest thing I had ever done, but it's probably responsible for the way my life went after that.
Hope the weather is good for you Myra, I know it's not essential, but it's nice to chat and sit for a while in the dry. If you are like me, you tend to crack on a bit with your head down if it's raining.
I would walk for miles if I was promised a pub lunch at the end - enjoy.....

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Entry:-230415
What a difference fifteen minutes makes in a morning. On a running day I'm usually out on the road at sevenish, but I was wide awake this morning at six thirty, so without further ado, I was on the road for six forty five, a good fifteen minutes earlier than usual.
Fog took away the view of the pylons about half a mile away over the fields, and I could feel the damp wrapping around my legs and face. Still running in my thermal top [not warm enough yet for just a tee shirt] I made my way down the street, over the railway bridge and across the field. The dampness in the air made the pylons crackle as I passed under them, but the path was dry and firm. Through the woods and out on to; what normally is a very busy road. The traffic was very light this morning, no queues, or long convoys, it's surprising how being fifteen minutes earlier makes all the difference. I was also surprised at how easy running felt this morning, no gasping for breath, or rubber legs, and I seemed to be holding a very sprightly pace. As the terrain changed from footpath to bumpy lane, I was still expecting to start paying the price for the brisk pace, but as I got accustomed to the quiet of the countryside, legs were still strong and I knew it was going to be a decent time. I did manage to put a spurt in over the last half mile, and was rewarded by the fastest time since my Heart Attack. And It wasn't until I checked my journal that I realised it was exactly one year to the day since the unfortunate incident.
If you would have told me, as I laid wounded in my hospital bed, that I would be breaking records one year hence, not only wouldn't I have believed you, I would have doubted that I would even be running again. What a brilliant piece of kit the human body is.
Happy St Georges Day, It's a day I will not forget.

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Good morning Robert. Yes, just shows you that the body is always trying to recover itself. In your case it's definitely done a great job. Its great that you are able to enjoy running again. Sounds like you really enjoyed your run yesterday

My walk went well. The sun shone the whole time, which was lovely. It was only six miles, but it was a nice, tranquil walk. It was one of my workmates first ever walk, but she did well and enjoyed it. We ended at a lovely pub with a beer garden and had lunch, a glass of wine, then ventured home. Lovely day had by all

We're off to Portpatrick today for a couple of days, where there are supposedly some beautiful walks.

Have a lovely weekend Robert.

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I'm glad your walk went well Myra, have a good time in Portpatrick and enjoy the scenery. Managed to fit a nice canal walk in today....report to follow.