The New Lyke Wake Club
The Final Day Of My 32nd Year: Ewan Chipping
9th September 2024
Solo and unsupported.
Start 5.21 from LWW stone near Cod Beck Reservoir.
End 20:58 at LWW stone near the mast at Ravenscar.
Crossing time15hr 37min.
Walking time 13hr 15min.
Stopped time 2hr 22min.
Since entering my 30s it has become somewhat of a tradition for me to complete a longer solo walk before my next birthday each year. LWW has been on the list for some time, and a crossing seemed fitting to mark being closer to mid-30s than early-30s. I cut the date of the hike to the wire setting off the day before my birthday.
On the morning of 9th September, I managed to wake up two hours before my intended alarm (anticipation or fear?), and after an early coffee and drive arrived at the car park just past Cod Beck Res for 5am. The forecast was rain until around 10.30, so donning full waterproofs and sounding like a pack of bin bags rustling together I set off into an oncoming drizzle. The hour before dawn saw dark shapes of trees and fences fly by as I made good progress undeterred by conditions. Indeed, I was well into the high ground of the Cleveland hills before anything close to the full light of dawn broke.
I am sure the views are spectacular, but I was treated to a full ‘white out’ with visibility of 30 feet. The first Bronze Age barrow loomed into existence, and I passed wishing its residents well. Fog (or the clouds) gave a distinct sombre atmosphere and even the birds seemed absent and sheep quiet. The scariest thing however seemed to be the noises my stomach was making reminding me it was past time for breakfast. I eventually stopped in Alec Falconers stone seat for a triple decker jam sandwich, noting the directions of towns and landmarks one might have seen in fair weather.
This early section was my favourite, having that distinctive wild uplands feel. I passed The Wainstones and descended into the more typical moorland scenery with oceans of heather and stone/cinder tracks that gently meander around the higher altitudes of the moors. On these manicured paths I clocked up some good miles in reasonable time, clipping along at just past three mph. I also passed some of the only other people I saw on any of the trails that day.
I successfully arrived at The Lion Inn at 11.30, with a pause to examine the barrow cemetery just behind the premises. My intention was to have lunch (and a pint) but making better progress than anticipated I had arrived a little early. The kitchen was not yet serving (lunch is from 12). This gave a longer than expected break and very unfortunately, while I waited for food, I had time for two pints (how awful)! A helpful fellow patron reminded me it was ‘brightening up out there’ and I was out the door shortly after 12.30. My stop at the Lion, while excellent, does remind me of a line from The Lord of the Rings “Short cuts make delays, but inns make longer ones” (Frodo. The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 1, Ch 4, A Short Cut to Mushrooms. J.R.R. Tolkien).
More cinder track miles past with distant views of the former ironstone mine works and calcining kilns north of Rosedale, turning up onto the headlands before ever reaching them. Around here the paths seem to shift and divide into multiple possible options, sheep trails, old seasonal streams ect. This was especially true in the bog, I was grateful for my old and trusted Garmin GPS keeping me true and on the line. Routes seem to open and end just as quickly, and the rain from the morning provided an un-needed top up to the already saturated wetland. For the most part I embraced the experience, although I was more uncertain after my foot disappeared past the ankle into what I though was solid ground… My boots put up a valiant effort in repelling water, but total submersion was maybe too much to ask!
Away from toiling over the mire progress was easier and I was keen to put a couple of miles between me and any further footbaths (not to be confused with footpaths). I passed several interesting landmarks, a very large upstanding barrow, the wooden LWW marker, the monolith ‘blue man’. Then I stopped around 16:00 for what would be my final break. This included wrapping bandage tape around a rubbing toe and a tactical change into fresh, clean and dry socks (the best feeling). I had a good refuel of trail mix and dolly mix (both hiking essentials), joined for company by a large hairy fox moth caterpillar. From my sitting rock I had the first long view of RAF Fylingdales.
The route to the stepping stones crossing Wheeldale Beck was accomplished reasonably well. From this stage legs were beginning to become fatigued, along with a small niggle in the right knee. There was also the demoralisation that RAF Fylingdales seemed to remain a distant presence no matter how many steps I took. Simon Howe Stone Circle provided some much-needed interest and distraction, as did the railway line crossing (complete with googly ‘look’ eyes). Crossing the A169 was mentally a huge reward, having driven along it so many times wondering where the crossing paths went, I was able to now connect a few footpaths together.
With legs feeling like they had nothing to give, I managed to somehow quick march past the military control zone. The footpath having been moved at some point (or at least the clear track I was following) to just within the keep out signs was a little concerning. I did notice a further fence off to the right that I assumed was the new controlled zone?! Official NYMNP signs gave some reassurance I wouldn’t end up in military jail for attempting the LWW!
I made it to Lilla Cross just before 19:00, around what was technically sunset but unfortunately there was only a slow fade to grey on this day. I could just make out the mast at Ravenscar and set off towards it, right knee complaining but still complying. The remaining five miles or so passed with no lucid memories, possibly the increasing darkness or pain! There were some stone steps into a dale (Jugger Howe Beck?), then I was back to using the head torch to keep a clear footing and GPS to correct my route. A pertinent memory was the remaining trail seemed clear and yet never ending. My eta of 20:00 slipped as progress had slowed and I stopped briefly in a patch of good signal to update my extraction plan already waiting at the end (thank you parents!). Just before 21:00 I trudged up the final slope, seeing my torch come along in the dark mum had sent Tess the collie dog to round me up for the final 20 yards.
I am uncertain if the LWW has set me up or finished me off for my 33rd year! For one thing, I shall never call anything hard again until it be comparable or worse to LWW! Never again (until the next time)!?