looking back...

Well - it's done! It seems like it didn't happen but 72 hours, 62.5 miles /100 km, three nights of camping in the hills, 12 kg of stuff in a pack, and about 8 blisters later, the pilgrimage is done! A recap of the days for you:

Day 1: Roman roads and fields of gold (14 miles)

Victoria at Melrose Abbey with the essential map!

Leaving Melrose Abbey, we headed into the Eildon Hills and over, into the Scottish Borders. It was exciting embarking on the journey, especially since we talked about it for so long. I still don't think we realised what we were getting ourselves into! 

The Eildon Hills

Looking to our destination - can you see it in the distance?

The River Tweed

Maxton

First night, we made it!

The day consisted of 6 hours of walking, through moor land, a golf course and pastures, and along the River Tweed.  After the immediate hill start out of Melrose, it was a fairly easy going day. We saw many fly fishermen, a few landowners, a couple herons, and some really good trout fishing areas.We finished the last section of our 14 miles on the Dere Street, a Roman road that stretches from York to Falkirk. We camped between the trees bordering the old road and a field, as wild camping is legal in Scotland - our only 'legal' camping night of the trip!

Day two: blisters and bruises (20 miles)

We encountered our first bit of rain on Friday morning following a wonderful brownie and cuppa in Harestanes. It left our boots soaked but we both agreed that without rain in Scotland, the trek wouldn't have seemed real. We progressed through the day, continuing along the road, past Lilliard's Stone, the site where the Battle of Ancrum Moor took place, into various wooded plantations and the Cheviot Hills. That afternoon we reached the 50km point at Wideopen Hill, it was a fantastic feeling to reach a milestone which was also the highest elevation point. The walk itself avoided most hills, so it is quite a gentle walk but the length of it makes you appreciate the lack of summits.

Lilliard's Stone

Dere Street

Cheviot Hills

Wideopen Hill - halfway there!

Scottish / English border

As we passed through Borders villages, it was clear to see the advantage to walking this time of year - all the fruit is in season! We picked apples and plums as branches hung over the road, and brambles growing in the countryside. The cloudy skies made for good walking temperatures, although the wet boots led to blisters during the day. The weight of the packs also started to take their toll, and as bruises on my hips and collarbone started to make themselves known, I realised that this was easily the most difficult thing I'd ever challenged myself to do. Not being much of an endurance athlete ever, and getting to the end of Friday with tears choking the back of my throat due to the pain of blistered feet, it was very humbling and eye-opening to realise what a struggle completing this long distance walk was going to be.

Day three: heather, hunters and caves (20 miles)

We had camped in an undisclosed location in the hills of England, waking up to some unimpressed cows. The first half of our morning was spent in the company of livestock as we plodded through pastures. The second half we came to high moorlands, with miles and miles of purple heather in full bloom. It was a stunning site, and made the hours go quickly. We arrived in Wooler in time for lunch, which lifted our spirits as we were starting to think we could actually complete this! Wooler was also where Victoria and a concerned citizen convinced me that ibuprofen and paracetamol could help my aching feet - and 20 minutes later, I was a full fledged believer! With newly numbed pain sensors, we made our way across Northumberland to St Cuthberts Cave, meeting a hunting party in Land Rovers, dozens of grouse and pheasants, a falconer, and a family who are part of the Northumbria Community who not only appreciated the duration of the walk but also the cause for our madness :) 

camping with the cattle

blister care and prevention

He knew Victoria had a carrot and chocolate in there!

Camping in St Cuthberts Cave

As we camped down for the night in St Cuthberts Cave with a wee fire to dry our boots, we listened to the rain and owls, looking forward to the last leg of the journey!

Day four: the healing waters (8.5 miles)

We got an early start. As we came to the top of the hill where St Cuthberts Cave rested, we could see the sea! And Lindisfarne! It was a stunning sunny sight, and our spirits soared! The last eight miles - we could do this! The morning passed quickly as we ambled down the cattle pastures and through a forest, and we made our way to the causeway just in time for the tide of recede to allow safe passage to the island. We took off our boots and walked across the tidal sands for the penultimate section. The waters and sand soothed the feet, and the sun and sea breeze refreshed the soul. We made our way to the pub on Lindisfarne where our dedicated welcoming party waited. Sitting at the pub in the sunny beer garden, enjoying the locally caught fish and chips and the slow return to normalcy, it only really sunk in that we had completed the walk when Victoria and I got our last stamp at the Lindisfarne post office, certifying that we did, indeed, make it along St Cuthberts Way. 

The end is in sight!

Along the Pilgrim's Path

On Lindisfarne

Loyal groupies!

defining a pilgrim

I spent the weekend at a festival and attended a session on pilgrimages. As one would expect, it was very contemplative and inspiring, combining space for thinking about pilgrimages and the history of them. 

One relic of the historical art of pilgrimaging is the scallop shell. It has long been the marker of a pilgrim, for various reasons. It is deeply connected with St James and the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. One of the connections is the shape of the shell; "The grooves in the shell, which come together at a single point, represented the various routes pilgrims traveled, eventually arriving at a single destination, the tomb of St. James in Santiago de Compostela" (www.otherspain.com). It was also a sign that the pilgrim had reached their destination, as Santiago de Compostela is located on the shore of Galicia where scallop shells are common. Shell signs marked the route, as well as acted as markers for buildings and homes that would welcome pilgrims. Pilgrims would often carry a shell along the journey, and they would present the shell to others to ask for food or drink, which would be placed in the shell. I will need to find a large one!

I have focused largely on this 62 mile trek as a pilgrimage for contemplation, fundraising, adventure, escapism, and all other wonderful things. I have forgotten that life itself is a pilgrimage. We are constantly journeying, winding, going up mountains and down valleys, and we are always seeking. There is always more to learn, people to meet, people to love, places to go, challenges to be faced, tears to cry, laughter to laugh, and God can speak at any moment, anywhere, to anyone. Although I think it is good to take time and retreat into nature and the mind and soul sometimes, I am hoping to go into this pilgrimage with the intent of continuing it long after Lindisfarne.

the reality is starting to settle in

Nine days to go to the starting line and I can safely say I still have no idea what is waiting in store for us! Having never been much of an 'endurance athlete' - okay, having never been an endurance athlete at all! - I have no idea how to train for something that covers this much ground. I have done a half marathon, a 52-mile cycle challenge, four throwing events in a day, three munros in a day, but again, they were all just one-day events, nothing covering multiple days and as continuous as this. And the training for those came more naturally - Chelsea was in charge of training for the half marathon (which means it was very organised and it got done!), I was cycling 15 miles a day for work anyway, I had coaches to train me for the throwing events, and the munros - well, there's a pint always waiting at the bottom of a munro so there's enough incentive without proper training :) The longest distance I've ever walked in a day in hills is approximately 15 miles, but that was followed by days of lazy recovery, dinner at a fish and chip shop and (obviously) a pint. Given we will be averaging 15 miles a day, sustaining ourselves on bread and cheese (and peanut M&Ms, because I am a 21st century pilgrim with an addiction to chocolate), for four days straight and sleeping on the ground, it will undoubtedly be an interesting experience! One advantage is having incentive to keep moving - other hill walking journeys have had a day of hillwalking with the option of being lazy the next day. There is no option this time around. 

This all sounds quite negative - I am actually looking forward to it all! A few days away from the computer, phone, media, alarm clocks, sirens, traffic, sense of responsibility and debt to society, and just being present in nature, enjoying Victoria's company and the beautiful countryside. I will bring a camera along, so technology won't be completely absent, but I hope that won't distract too much from the experience and will only serve to help share it with others.

So it's all starting to hit me that I have no idea how to train for this - I've been going with a combination of running, cycling, gardening, ceilidh dancing, walking and yoga - but I think the motivation, incentive and inspiration of it all will make up for my lack of preparation. It has been so encouraging witnessing people's generosity in giving and supporting this pilgrimage, so thank you all!

from dust to dust

"I also said to myself, “As for humans, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the human spirit rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?" " 
Ecclesiastes 3

just a stranger on a bus

There are quite a few big questions that get asked about God, faith, and life in general: 

- why do bad things happen to good people?

- what is the purpose of life?

- do woodticks have a purpose? 

- how can an all-loving, omniscient God 'allow' people to not believe in Him?

- why don't humans hibernate?

- why are humans the only species that actively destroys its living environment?

- are natural disasters punishment for sin, a sign of the fall, an unfortunate side effect of how the geological world works? 

- why do people make buttons just to label them 'do not press'?

Some of these are unanswerable, some controversial, and yeah okay, maybe some of them aren't the 'big life questions' but they are ones that I have! So my question for you - and I'm hoping to have some virtual interaction here!

What one question would you ask God if you had the chance?*

*assuming you believe in or are willing to entertain the thought of a higher being, for sake of argument we'll call that being 'God' and that you are willing to hear the answer. 

Comments are very welcome!

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Training update: walked 15 km last week along the Water of Leith, which is approximately the distrance of one of our short days for our pilgrimage. Verdict: although I think I fared better than Sean, my legs definitely hurt that night and that wasn't including any hills. Need to incorporate hill walking into my schedule - soon!!

Training days

Summer decided to show up for the weekend, so I took advantage of that and went out in the Pentlands for a few hours to get up some hills and train. Considering my last two training days consisted of playing on the Elie Chain Walk (where the hardest workout was the spontaneous guerrilla gardening at Cat's grandfather's house) and a couple hours along the (very flat) Water of Leith, I thought some hills were necessary.

Chelsea and Cat on the Chain Walk

Guerrilla gardening, 1950s style

Heron on the Water of Leith

Wandering around the Pentlands with Charlotte and Penny was wonderful - we found cows, sheep, a kestral, and a nice sunny spot out of the wind for lunch. Can't ask for much more in a day out in Scotland!

Char, Penny and I

 In the natural pace of hill walking, there are moments of silence in the conversation. Either the hill is getting too steep or the path too long and talking just needs to cease for a while. It was during one of these moments that it actually hit me - I'm going to be walking, for four days, in the hills with Victoria, a chunk of bread and a sleeping bag. The amount of time to think, wonder, rethink and reflect is going to be enormous! Especially compared to the hectic schedule of 21st century life - the pinging of email inboxes, the beeping of text messages, the car horns speeding by, commuters plugged into mp3 players to zone out from their brief exposure to potential human interaction on public transport, music played loud enough to drown out our own thoughts in order to escape for a while, deadlines chasing deadlines chasing deadlines. To take four days to just be in nature, walk, talk and think... I think this is just the beginning of understanding why people go on pilgrimages in the first place.

Pentlands

the good, the bad, the fair?

Part of this pilgrimage is having the time to reflect on life, questions and the bigger issues that the soul cries out but  is often ignored due to the busy-ness, noise, stress, deadlines and alarm clocks of life. To get into the practice, here's a question that's come up in the last week or so:

If something is fair, is it then inherently good?

One might think 'yes, it's the systematic fairness that keeps society civil, functional and accessible for all.' We have queues where everyone waits their turn, prices labeled clearly in stores that don't change when you get to the cash register, anyone can access free health care (in the UK... but let's not get distracted by other issues!), and the rain that falls on my head falls on the guy's next door. It's all fair. 

But what about when the outcome isn't good even when the system is fair? For the sake of argument I'll define 'good' as beneficial to one's health or life. One example given to me was the story of St George. There was a city where the citizens had to disturb a dragon to get water. To appease the dragon, they offered it a sheep. When they didn't have any sheep they offered it a maiden. This maiden was chosen by drawing lots. A fair system, not so good for the girl with the short straw. This ended when George showed up and killed the dragon. Good to keep those saintly knights around, hey?

Another story involves Solomon in the Old Testament. Two women came to him with one baby, each claiming it to be their own. Solomon decided that to split the baby so each woman could have half would be fair. Fair, yes. Good? Definitely not from the baby's point of view!

Which leads to the question - can a system have moral qualities? Or can one only judge outcomes and results to be on the good-bad spectrum? Hmmm...

My conclusion: a system isn't good or bad, it can be fair or corrupt, based on it's consistency and lack of bias. How situations or systems or circumstances affect someone, that's where the good or bad comes into play.

Also, there's that saying 'all is fair in love and war'. Now there's a load of rubbish if I ever heard it! :)