Tag Archives: charity

Dead woman walking

A few months ago I had a text from a good friend of mine suggesting we sign up for a 20 mile walk. Love to, replies I, with months stretching ahead in front of us and visions of lots of lovely training walks through the countryside with a nice glass of wine at the end.

So it came as quite a shock to realise the number of weeks until the walk was only 1 and the number of training sessions undertaken was 0. It’s only 20 miles we thought, how hard can that be we thought – bloody hard is the answer!

I wouldn’t say that I was unprepared for the walk, however the night before I looked at the list of items that we needed: sun tan lotion, check; walking boots, check; waterproof jacket, check; whistle, sorry?; map, what?, survival kit; seriously?? It’s a charity walk not a Bear Grylls expedition.  To be fair even if I had a map I wouldn’t know what to do with it, although at the 13 mile point I would cheerfully have taken a map and beaten the person who suggested the walk round the head with it!

Whoever said 20 miles wasn’t far has clearly never done it round Haworth in the blazing hot sunshine.  I know the Pennines are meant to be hilly, but these were ridiculous. I am from the fens and I live in York, my legs are not built for hills. The first few miles were not too bad. There was one pretty grim long hill that knocked out a few of our fellow walkers straight away. Once at the top those who had done it before were keen to tell us that we were passed the worst. Well one of the many things I learnt during the day (the main one being never to agree to walk 20 miles in the Pennines) was that people lie. This wasn’t the worst over and done with, this was just a taster of what was to come.

For 9 hours we walked through bogs, up hills, down rocky paths, climbed over styles and squeezed through tiny gaps in walls. We got sunburnt despite the factor 50 cream, we ate melted peanut butter balls and drank litres and litres of water (yet only went for a wee once, how does that work?) Eventually getting up to Top Withens, which was apparently the inspiration for Wuthering Heights. Well I’m afraid by this 17 mile point the views might have been absolutely stunning but frankly I was sick and tired of seeing amazing views, and if I never saw another stone wall in my life it would be too soon.

Those last three miles were the longest three miles I have ever known (At this point I also found out that the walk was actually 20.9 miles – that 0.9 extra would have sent me screaming for the hills if I hadn’t already seen more than my fair share of hills that day) Every signpost we passed said 1 ½ miles to Haworth and I’m sure there was someone just moving the signs to wind us up. Yet we made it back to base eventually. Barely able to move and with no energy to even talk anymore, but we did it. 20 miles over the Pennines done!

I wonder if Mrs G fancies 26 miles next time…

 

Why did we do it?

We were raising money for St Leonard’s Hospice in York and sponsorship is still open if you would like to:https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/candi-colbourn6

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Mud, Muck and Dead Things

So this weekend was finally the dawning of Mr F’s big challenge. As you may know in his wisdom he had decided that he wanted to raise money for a charity he is involved with. Mr F thought that cycling the length of the Leeds to Liverpool canal and back in two days would be a good way to do this. Of course this meant that being the selfless kind of partner I am, I jumped at the chance to drive the support van. Apparently I’d find lots of lovely café stops along the way, have loads of time to enjoy reading in the sunshine and generally find it a thoroughly relaxing couple of days for me. Well Mr F talks utter nonsense. 

After months of planning and training (Obviously Mr F concentrated on the cycling side of things, my contribution was to make sure I had enough books packed to keep me entertained) things started well. 4.30am the sun was almost shining, the van was full of energy drinks and sandwiches and I had a pre-programmed satnav telling me where to go. Skipton was the first stop for me and an early morning Costa Coffee plus the magic toilet key from the Canal Trust meant it was a nice leisurely start in the sun with a new book (Death in the Dales in case you are interested)20160630_185455

If I now tell you that 4 days later I am reading that same book and some of its pages are still damp, you might guess that it wasn’t the leisurely couple of days I was hoping for.  The weather was horrendous, rain was heavier than I’ve seen it for ages, there was thick mud everywhere, journeys took much longer than they should have done, there were mechanical failures, a crash and at no point were feet dry.  I don’t think Mr F had much fun either!

muppetsThe first day was definitely the worst. The weather meant that everything was running behind. Even when the sun came out there was so much mud that it was dangerous to ride it. Two hours I stood with Mr F Sr. on a bridge waiting for the cyclist to appear, we looked like we were auditioning for the parts of Statler and Waldorf. At least on this stretch Mr F did learn that sometimes it’s best to go round puddles not through them, and flying over the handlebars headfirst into them is definitely not a good plan.

Some of the parts I visited were very pretty, there were some lovely canal moorings and if you managed to see through all the rain it was probably very beautiful. There were some lovely people we met on the way and the fried egg sandwich that Janet and her baps provided on the Friday morning was possibly the best one I’ve had for years. However all in all this was quite possibly one of the most stupid ideas that Mr F has ever had. It does just prove how stubborn he is though as he did the whole 255 mile journey and finally got back to Leeds very wet, very cold, very muddy, but having raised over £2500 for Africa’s Gift which made it all worth while (probably!)

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