The large boggy area was behind us and the path ahead appeared to be made up of a large expanse of heather growing over a firm sandy top soil. It looked to be fairly easy going until we discovered that the heather was hiding thousands of large pebble like stones and boulders. It was impossible to maintain a steady stride as we tried to avoid stubbing our toes or twisting our ankles as we negotiated our way through this hidden minefield.
Our path rose gently for nine miles to the next check point just below Fylingdales moor. We could clearly see our destination in the distance as it's presence was indicated by a small white building on the sky line in the centre of the ridge. We set off in single file, I was at the front with a couple of the cadets as the team began to form a straggling crocodile behind us. Every few hundred metres we stopped to allow them to catch up and have a short rest before carrying on.
All the team were now starting to feel the strain, we were tired and sore, our feet were hot and in some cases blistered. Our rucksacks were rubbing against our aching shoulders but everybody was still able to crack a joke and manage a smile. As we got closer to the check point the small white building turned out to be a rather large concrete structure containing a military Early Warning radar. We dropped down to the North Yorkshire railway line then struggled up the short steep ascent to the minibus where we flopped on the ground exhausted.
There was only eight more miles to the finish line near the coast at Ravenscar with a further checkpoint just two miles from the end. The weather was still clear although there appeared to be a few ominous black clouds on the horizon so the staff members made the sensible decision that we would leave our rucksacks on the bus, carrying on with just our rain jackets and a bottle of water each.
The sun began to go down in a blaze of glory as we struggled onwards and upwards across the heather clad moorland. Unfortunately the breeze also dropped which was the signal for swarms of midges to rise out of the heather and attack us without mercy. We were all now absolutely 'chinstrapped', the joking and singing had stopped as we limped in to our final checkpoint. Several voices were heard to say that they were shattered and didn't wish to carry on to the end. However after a short rest and realising that we were only two miles from the finish stone we all rallied for the final push.
With forced smiles we struggled up the short sharp climb back on to the moor where I led the way, pace counting out the route and stopping every 100 metres for a short rest. Some of the team were suffering from muscle strains, blisters and even one case of double vision but everybody helped each other along. Slowly but surely we limped along until out of the dark we saw the headlights of our minibus next to the finish line. I counted down the last couple of hundred metres for the benefit of the team as we closed ranks and walked with heads held high up to the bus where we all collapsed exhausted but elated with our formidable achievement.
It was just before midnight as we crossed the line, we had set off twenty hours and forty-two miles earlier and after factoring in rest breaks we realised that we had actually been walking for eighteen hours. Unable to see the Lyke Wake stone in the darkness (We discovered later that the mini bus had parked in front of it) we decided to return in the morning for our finishing photograph.
We were now members of the elite Lyke Wake Club and they weren't lying when they said that the only way to gain membership was by enduring pain and torment. All of the staff members are experienced walkers and mountaineers and we all agreed that this was definitely the most difficult single day walk any of us had ever done.
Note: The map image is courtesy of the New Lyke Wake Club website and the Ordnance survey.
