They ask you if you would like to do the Lyke Wake Walk. This is a trail that goes from Osmotherley to Robin Hood Bay, about forty something miles. (Regular readers will know that I am normally fairly precise, but my right foot fell off about three miles ago and I am a little light headed.)
Where was I? Oh yes, the Lyke Wake Walk. Forty something miles from Osmotherley to the North Sea. At Robin Hood Bay. Did I mention that already? Oh, sorry.
Anyway forty miles plus. Let's say seventy kilometres. Up hill and down dale. In one day. Let me explain the hills and dales using the standard international unit of measure, Table Mountain. This is equivalent to climbing and descending Table Mountain, three times.
Did I say this had to be done in one day? Well it does.
About twelve miles along the route there is a bench, upon which the weary may rest. It is dedicated to the memory of someone who died doing the Lyke Wake Walk.
Now, hold that thought. I am unable to do so, owing to excruciating pain in my remaining foot.
On the earlier parts of the Coast to Coast walk, one frequently notices RAF fighters flying overhead. I will report on this in a future dispatch; let me simply ask you to remember it for the moment.
So: the Lyke Wake Walk and sanity.
In North Yorkshire they ask if you would like to do the Lyke Wake Walk. If you say "yes" they put you on a watch list, since you are clearly unbalanced.
And just one twitch at the wrong moment and they send in the RAF.
Meanwhile, SWMBO and I have just finished the longest leg of our C2C. 20.6 miles; three Table Mountains. Just eighteen miles tomorrow and twelve the following day.
Un morceau de gateau.
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