I’m not dressing this up.
The Lyke Wake Walk chewed us up, spat us out, stamped on us, reversed back over us, and asked if we were enjoying our little day out. It broke us, rebuilt us, broke us again, and then laughed while we limped past. From about mile 31, my spirit packed its bags and said “good luck babes”.
Those famous last words — “it’s not as bad as I thought” — aged like a pity plum left in the sun.
But these women?
These feral, bog‑trotting, toe‑counting, unhinged, warrior women and pure legends? They dragged each other across the moors with the energy of a pack of bog‑witches fuelled by many a sandwich, snacks, trying to work out if we had actually eaten more than the 6000 calories we had burnt and the promise of sitting down again one day.
The checkpoint crew were our coven of daylight‑saving angels. They turned up with early morning hugs, cheerleading pom pom, banners, balloons, snacks, and massive energy and enough grub to feed 20 of us. You resurrected us when we were broken, starving?, and questioning why humans have legs at all.
We wild‑weed together like it was a communal hobby.
We cried our way through the dark moments, but Werther’s helped too.
We counted toenails like we were doing inventory for a museum.
We even ran out of conversation. I know!
The women who can talk for 15 hours straight about snacks, dogs, trauma, and the weather. Silence. Actual silence. That’s how you know it was bad.
The last two miles were longer than the entire history of the universe. And that beacon? With the power of delusion and the love of Polly, we convinced ourselves we were strolling up to the Eiffel Tower for a romantic dinner in Paris. Delirium had the wheel. We were just passengers.
Over 103,000 steps, 40+ miles, under 15 hours, and not a single one of us got swallowed by a bog (though it tried).
Boom. Done. Cursed. Blessed. Bonded for life. Never again……..
Erica, Polly, Lisa, Leela, Karen, Jess, Louise
Wandering Goose Wild Women
W to E 16th May 2026
14hrs 49mins walking time