were struggling to find our way in the
darkness. It turns out we got utterly lost
until we stumbled across a main road.
We knew we had to head north along
the road, but the problem was it was a
60mph road with no pavements, and
it was pitch black. We decided to run
along the road as quickly as we could,
and every time a car came we had to
dive in to the nettles at the side of the
road to avoid the cars. Not ideal. It was
because of this “detour” that the 51 mile
walk ended up being 52.3, but of course
we both maintained that we walked a bit
further because “we were enjoying it so
much.” That may not have been entirely
truthful, particularly if you had heard
some of the colourful language which
peppered our diction. When you’ve
covered about 45 miles and you get lost
six miles from the finish line, in darkness,
when it is cold and damp, I think you can
be forgiven for turning in to actor Ra y
Winstone momentarily.
instructions to that effect. It turns out we
had to learn to read a bearing, a map
and use a compass. It has been a few
years since I last tried that in my shorts
at school! It also turns out we would be
walking through the night too, so we had
to learn these skills in the dark.
Little Dave very kindly offered to take
Victor and I out for a night walk, a
cheeky little 12-miler through Littlington
and Southease just to see if we could
read a map, take a bearing, and not kill
ourselves. Little Dave is a top man, but
I am sure there was a small part of him
that felt a sense of responsibility to us. I
suspect part of his motivation for taking
us out for that night walk was to make
sure he didn’t read about us in the local
paper - missing in action!
The day of the walk arrives. Victor and I
arrive at Longhill School in Rottingdean
and are greeted by the sight of the 148
other competitors. I have never seen
such a gaggle of thin wiry mountaingoat-esque looking dudes in all my
life. Victor and I must have lowered the
average age by about 20 years but these
people looked tough as old boots. It was
at this point that I may have started to
feel slightly nervous, and the prospect
of walking the equivalent distance from
London to Brighton but off road, over
steep hills, with a backpack on, in one
hit, and partially at night, was a reality
that suddenly dawned on me. I may
have been nervous, but I was strangely
excited, and I felt like I really came alive.
We started the walk at 10am and headed
up over the hills at Woodingdean. Little
Dave was towards the front, and after
about two minutes he was out of sight.
We wouldn’t see Little Dave again until
night fall.
We headed east over Falmer along the
South Downs Way before turning north
over the A27 and round the north of
Lewes before going up over Lewes Golf
Course, Glynde, and then we stopped
at one of the check points. The check
points arrived every five to seven miles,
and they were always a welcome sight.
The first checkpoint had flap jacks, but
this checkpoint had quiche, and if you
know me you will know I love a good
quiche!
After wolfing down some of the said
quiche, we crossed south over the A27
before making our way up over the ridge
on the South Downs Way and turning
east towns East Dean. By the time we
got to the check point at East Dean we
had covered 28 miles, a distance that
Victor and I had never accomplished
before and we were absolutely buzzing.
This time our good friend Kathi Archery
(or “Klick Chick” as she is known - great
photographer) met us with a piping hot
lasagne. That lasted all of two minutes
before we devoured the ravioli and
cheese, tea and cake. I have never
eaten so well!
After filling our guts, we wobbled out of
the check point before heading over five
of the Seven Sisters. I told Victor they
missed out the two other sisters because
they were ugly, but I’m not sure he
believed me!
Before we knew it we were clipping
along at mile 35, heading over Friston
and slowly making our way back west
towards the finish.
We managed to get back on track after
our 1.3 mile “detour” and it was not
long before we stumbled across the
last check point. I am sure that this
check point was sent from the heavens
because when we arrived there at about
10pm it was pitch black, we were greeted
by about eight marshals who were the
most incredibly friendly, lively, warm
people you could ever want to meet. To
top it off, they fired up a gas stove and
made us both bacon sandwiches and
a cuppa. I could literally have died and
gone to heaven at that point (if God
forgives me for my colourful language of
course).
With the bacon sarnies warming our
bellies we headed off in the darkness
to complete the last six miles, merrily
singing our way towards the finish line.
We crossed the finish line after 12 hours
and 58 minutes with massive smiles
on our faces and were greeted by Little
Dave. It turns out Little Dave finished in
10 hours and 1 minute, and smashed
the course record. He stayed behind for
three hours to watch us cross the line
before presenting me with a massive
Children in Need style cheque to cover
the entrance fee, dressed up as what
can only be described as a very ugly and
scary lady.
I can honestly say that the sense of
achievement I felt crossing the finish
line was tremendous. It is not often you
get the chance to take in the wonders
of the South Downs for 13 hours and
enjoy exercise, friendship and laughter.
It is moments like this that you reflect on
just how privileged we are to have our
health, our friends, and to live in such a
wonderful part of the country.
Now for the next challenge…
By Scott Gair
The night drew in a little quicker than we
hoped, and with it came the fog. Before
we could say “Phillius Fog” the visibility
was down to about 12 foot, and we
29