Training Walk IV (Night Walk To Thame & Back 57km) .... And Then There Were Three

And then there were three?    Oh please God tell me I don't have to be Phil Collins

Derek has reluctantly decided to throw in the towel from a walking perspective. His swollen knee is not getting any better but he has stepped up to provide us with a first class support option. This is the first walk for the new six-legged rather than eight-legged groove machine. More Motorhead than The Wonder Stuff.

Howard is fretting over the route and the possibilities of getting lost in the dark, lost in music, caught in a trap, no turning back, etc.  He's read enough stories to his kids to know that if they take the wrong turning in the woods they could fall into a heffalump trap or be captured by a Hansel and Gretel-napping witch. Even a ... And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Bread, trail of bread wouldn't save them. The team packs chicken bones and an "ACME gingerbread house demolition kit" just in case. At least the route gives them a second shot at The Red Lion at Whiteleaf, assuming they get there before it closes that is.

Howard prepares a greasy repast for himself and Pete which later on turns out to be "not such a good idea" and we rendezous at Matt's house in Totteridge in pleasant evening sunshine. Matt has been delayed by a work flavoured real life crisis and is trying to collect kit and eat at the same time. We set off from Matt's house at Dark Helmet Ludicrous Speed which turns out to be "not such a good idea" either and before you know it we've gone past Disraeli's country gaff Hughenden Manor and we're striding along the main road in Naphill getting admiring glances/hoots of derision from the locals. The Naphill Mob are particularly taken by the car cleaning sponge cubes that Pete has taped to the underside of his rucksack straps to take the pressure off his sore shoulders. Heath Robinson and indeed Robert Robinson would have been impressed. Each of the walks has thrown up another interesting problem to deal with, but the team is nothing if not resourceful and wherever there's a branch of Halfords or Hawkins Bazaar there's a solution.

The Wheel in Naphill has an Aylesbury Vale CAMRA Pub Of The Year 2011 banner outside which soon locks its tractor beam onto the team. Only Derek's pre-match advice that it's a bit overrated saves us from getting sidetracked "early doors". We take a nice path down to North Dean past chez Derek who is either hiding in the cupboard under the stairs or helping out with the Scouts. As we approach Speen, Pete's temptation to add an "L" to the WELCOME TO SPEEN sign almost gets the better of him. Outside Speen Scout HQ, some cubs are tying knots or lashing poles together, which seems a bit harsh considering they've not been in the EU that long.

After a bit of umming and ahhing we think we've got the right track out of Speen although it's a bit boggy underfoot. We see a shape on the path ahead and we unstealthily approach. When we get closer, we see that it's a badger cub drinking from a puddle. This has to be a wildlife watching result in anybody's book and it takes our minds off the fact that it's actually getting quite dark. Grubbins Lane turns into Lily Bottom Lane, but the Pink & Lily pub at the end is yet another country inn that has closed its doors, despite having Rupert Brooke as a previous regular.

We're now on a fairly busy road in the woods in the dark and there's much scuttling onto the verge to be done. The other problem is trying to read the map using Howard's deflicted eyes and an ineffective torch. By some miracle we make it out the other side alive, in time for Pete to nearly leave his hat behind after a roadside leak. Matt's astronomy app confirms that "the aircraft that isn't moving" is in fact Venus and we have a Professor Brian Cox moment. Howard tries to remember him from their time at school together, but the prof would only have been a spotty oik in the years when Howard was fine tuning his underachievement and trying to avoid being bogwashed by the upper 6th.

Pete's shoulder is now giving him serious grief, but Matt's Snake Oil & Mobile Apothecary contains enough drugs to stop a charging elephant and some pain relief is administered. We head away from (now) twice shunned Red Lion along the Icknield Way with a trio of head torches lending a Blair Witch Project feel to proceedings. Before long we're in Princes Risborough and it's time for snacks (Matt has a banana, Howard munches something out of date from the fridge and Pete has the first of 236 packs of chicken satay).

Howard's plan is to use the Phoenix Trail to Thame, because "it's long and straight and we can't get lost". We can get seriously bored though and the relentless pace is starting to make things uncomfortable. There's chafing and Waddington's Formula 1 tyre wear.


Swedish Formula 1 - It's at least 3 in the Slitage-markering column and Antal varv hasn't reached 1.

Three Dog Night tribute band Three Badger Evening complete their set when Bodger and Badger scuttle across the path. Sheesh, badgers are just so passe darling.

We miss the dodgy syringe and special brew section of the Phoenix Trail by taking the Chinnor Road into the centre of Thame. Pete's prayers are answered and there is an all-night garage selling cold Lucozade. We also manage a proper coffee. The glucose and caffeine hit lifts the tempo again and we mark this down as a required item for the real walk. The local constabulary are investigating an altercation at Thame's premier nite spot and we head back to the ringroad before things start to get ugly.

Although it's well past 1am, all the houses in Towersey seem to have their bedroom lights on and the pampas grass out front tells of a community rich in marital flexibility and Argentinian gardening. A sign in the bus stop suggests that duck rustling is also rife.



Yes and they tasted wonderful

Leaving Towersey's steamy hotbed of intrigue and crime behind we climb wearily back onto the Phoenix Trail. By the time we reach the outskirts of Princes Risborough, there is a watery light in the sky. We walk across the railway to ensure that we're back on the wrong side of the tracks (where all the nasty hills are). Everything is starting to creak now and the pace has dropped off to a shuffle.

Pete checks out a new set of wheels

In a cruel twist of timing we hit a mobility low point, just as we pass the Mobility Equipment & Advice Centre. Strangely there's nobody there to provide either equipment or advice. The fact that it's only 5 in the morning may have something to do with it.

The next big hill is Wardrobes, although it looks like someone has stacked a sideboard, a bedside cabinet and a Welsh dresser on top of it. Howard's starting to get dropped from the peloton now. The broom wagon would have swept him up, but Mr Broom is still in the land of Nod (Dudley).

Just in the nick of time we get a text from Derek who has mobilised his army field kitchen and we arrange to meet him in Lacey Green for breakfast. The military precision of the operation doesn't quite extend to the bacon, which is performing a territorial reserve role in the fridge when Derek rolls up. However, egg rolls, porridge, coffee and folding chairs turn a Diem Horribilis into a Diem Mirabilis. Pete and Matt have a tyre change, going from walking shoes to running shoes. It's difficult to describe the impact on our spirits of a hot drink and some proper food and we get into a good stride on our way back to Speen as the sun scrapes over the horizon.

Reasons to be (briefly) cheerful Part #1

Between Lacey Green and Speen we kill time by going through our Top 5 Cooked Breakfast items which reopens the wounds of the Hash Brown Heresy but there's enough consensus around bacon and black pudding to avoid bloodshed.

Back in North Dean, Pete's monster blister has exploded and Howard's calves have turned to mahogany. We've also underestimated how far we've still got left to walk and even a gentle incline takes its toll. North Dean seems to go on forever, but eventually we're climbing north again towards the Mushroom Farm. Some surly Jerseys give us the evil eye and force us to up the pace through the field.

We're in the home stretch now, but there's still time for some more injuries and more mud wading. Pete has one final Coke "pop" stop to get him through the last half mile back to Matt's.

Pete drives home with matchsticks holding his eyelids up.
Matt buys a paper and sits in a warm cricket pavilion.
Howard walks home from Totteridge and thinks about amputating his feet

Howard's feet prior to amputation

Some more important lessons have been learned :
1. Sponges don't stop your shoulders from hurting. Enormous quantities of drugs are a good alternative.
2. Changing your socks and shoes regularly is the best way of reducing blisters.
3. The psychological and physical benefit of support crew is impossible to overstate.
4. It gets boring walking for 12 hours in the dark, even with people who make you laugh.
5. It hurts a lot after 36 miles. The pain after 62.5 must be unimaginable.
6. Coffee and drugs are essential to get you through the night.

War is hell ...... and so is Trailwalker