The New Lyke Wake Club

An Epic First – Becky and Emma

It is with deep sorrow that we report a successful crossing on Monday May 25, in 15 hours and 50 minutes.

Sisters Emma and Becky Furness successfully completed their first crossing in the traditional East to West direction, ably supported by Becky’s husband, Paul, as support crew.

Our woe began days before our walk as the weather forecast began to predict hellishly hot conditions and we debated the sense in committing ourselves to 15+ hours of trudging over the wild moors in 30 degree heat with little chance of shade. We arrived in Osmotherly determined to attempt the crossing with three objectives: 1) remain mostly not dead, 2) have fun, 3) complete the crossing (in that order of priority) We left a message in the sign in book, outlining our intent, in case we didn’t make it back. 

At 4.13am, in the soft glow of dawn, we solemnly departed the Lyke Wake Stone with only some suspicious sheep and distant cuckoo for company, the temperature already a fresh 11 degrees. 

The early miles following the well-marked Cleveland Way, following in the footsteps of our Grandad some 40 years before, felt uncannily easy.  As undulating woodland gave way to hills and heather we wistfully took in the views of the coast a little way off to the north. We carried on with a respectful degree of cheer, tackling the steep ups and downs and laughing in the face of death during our first ever scramble up and over the Wainstones. 

Our first support stop was at Clay Bank at around 8.30, where Paul walked out to meet us before returning us back to the car for a welcome breakfast buffet. The temperature from the car display told us it was now 21.5 centigrade, so we smeared ourselves with sunscreen and donned our hats and long sleeves, preparing ourselves for the long section ahead.

As we climbed up Carr Ridge from Clay Bank the grouse warned us to ‘Go Back, Go Back, Go back!’. We did not heed the warning, and after a little while we thought the heat might already be getting to us as the rocks on the path ahead appeared to moving in the heat haze, but happily it was only tiny fluffy grouse chicks, scrambling over the heather, with mum and dad scooting close by.

This section was incredibly good underfoot and the going was good, we passed a pond and performed a daring rescue of a butterfly that had landed in the water. We noticed the pond was chock full of tadpoles – all respectfully in black, of course.

We then hit the railway section which whilst easy underfoot felt unending and in sections where the embankment rose on both sides the heat was oppressive out of the breeze. We solemnly vowed not to ask what the temperature was again; it was better not to know. 

Finally the roof of the Lion Inn came into view and this spurred us on with the promise of a cold drink and shade! (This was quite possibly the most delicious and refreshing pint of bitter shandy ever quaffed) Paul met us, and cheerily announced ‘it’s 28 degrees out there!’ We whimpered, fortified ourselves with pork pies reheated on the roof of the car, and bravely continued. 

Thankfully, the bog section, due to the oven-like temperatures, presented only mild challenges and offered an excellent showcase of some super conservation work. We experienced slight confusion caused by the number of waymarkers which have sadly met their end and lie as they fell: gone too soon.

We had not appreciated that the boggy bit was followed by a bit more bog, and then a horrible stony path, seemingly designed to produce a sense of humour failure by being depressingly uneven underfoot and too narrow to allow for the use of poles to steady ourselves. We were however, heartened to find that there was not a single raven at the Raven Stones, which we took as a sign that hope remained that we would succeed in our exertions. Not all was exactly well though, as our feet were starting to bother us a little and we both discovered that we’d acquired quite an extensive sweat rash just below the tops of our socks, and our underwear began, unfathomably, to chafe! Misery indeed.

We were grateful to see Paul at Eller beck Bridge, and he us – he had been struggling to keep cool without shade whilst awaiting our arrival, and had at one point noticed the car which he was sheltering in recorded a hellishly hot 44 degrees. Shortly after leaving Eller Beck came one of the walk’s high points – possibly not literally – as a beautiful little adder deigned to show itself, then treat us to some fine swearing in snake, before retreating into the grass to us to resume allow our mournful progress. Another brush with almost certain(ish) death.

Moving off from Lilla Cross one of the party began to feel an overwhelming urge for a very different kind of passing, yet struggled onwards for many a mile with Yorkshire grit and a clenched… jaw.  Upon reaching the edge of Jugger Howe ravine all sensations suddenly and miraculously ceased – perhaps it was only a ghostly visitation from a lonely spirit of the moors. If this is what attempted possession feels like, we shall add holy water to our packs next time.

With some words of encouragement from Paul, and the promise of a hot buffet at the reception, we were given our final send-off up the hill to the beacon. In the fading light we set off, determinedly, feet miraculously rejuvenated with a change of boots, towards the mast. The tales were true, this feels like a mirage which you may never reach, but under a bright moon we covered the ground and at 10:20 we reached the Lyke Wake Stone. Here we coaxed our beleaguered knees to bend and mustered a smile (of relief) for an essential picture. It was still 18 degrees when we folded our still limbs into the car for the journey back to our digs in Osmotherley.

We staggered back to the sign in book on Tuesday to add a note to say that we had survived our ordeal. Having been described as weird on more than one occasion, it is lovely to now have a badge to prove it!

Emma & Becky Furness

Walking time: 15hrs 50mins
Actual crossing time: 18hrs 07 mins
Total distance: 39.2 miles