New Valley Hills

Pete and Anita share their home with their baby daughter Maeve and affectionate, bouncy dog Jess.

While they’re out I spend the day indoors. I am a little retrospective as well as planning forwards.

The SWCPA guide book has a suggested timeline of 52 days walking over 8 total weeks, including a roughly weekly rest day. Comparing my progress, expecting I’ll arrive at Brixham tomorrow lunchtime, I’m slower than that, taking 14 days to do their 11. That’s actual walking days. Even taking into account the two rest days in one week due to weather, 12 is more than 11.

I need to up my pace. Obstacles to that are, in no particular order

1. Weather
2. Feet soreness above 15 miles
3. Finding camp spots

1 – I can’t do much about this. While freak heatwaves are unlikely to reappear which slow me down, high winds and heavy rain make it unsafe to be walking on exposed cliff tops, meaning days off.

2 – I’ve bought new slim insoles which might help alleviate some pain, plus I’m doing this to keep my feet in good nick.

3 – Either wild camp or walk off trail for a campsite. Wild camping could enable me to up my pace as I’d not be walking up to 3km each way to a campsite. This adds 6km, 90 minutes each day – plus means stopping at an artificial point due to campsite proximity, maybe when I’ve got legs to go further that day. A site gives me a shower and the reassurance of a safe spot. The two times I wild camped I didn’t sleep as well due to lack of shower and anxiety about being found and asked to move on. I know I should embrace the stink and get over not having a shower. I had a in-tent wash one night which helped, though it was a hot balmy night with sunshine either side.

Although I have no set return date, the longer I’m walking the further into inclement weather I venture, and I’d told Lisa it’d be 5-7 weeks.

I hopped on some bathroom scales; have I really dropped 7lbs! I won’t know for sure until I use my scales again at home. What I do know is every morning I tighten my backpack hipbelt a little more.

Over the next three days as I enter Cornwall I have seven ferries, one lowtide river fording and a firing range to get through before it closes to synchronise timings for. I’ve got to do the planned miles regardless or my pace will unravel considerably.

Plymouth is book-ended by ferries. There is a possibility of bypassing it entirely by another ferry. For the sake of being hike completist I’m sorely tempted. I will avoid yet more miles of pavement pounding saving my feet from repetitive steps, and help me meet the ranges deadline.

This adventure is not about being a tourist and sightseeing; it’s about the challenges of a long distance thruhike and how to make it a success. Flexibility has to be a choice.