Report to IC Trust - Tours 2011/12

“Spiderman”, then I want you on my team.

Day 6: Snowbows and Robin Hood Sunshine greeted us the next morning and we headed out refreshed and recharged to conquer Hadrian’s wall. Hiking through the Pennines we were treated to fantastic views of sweeping hills and massive rainbows. Personally, I found the highlight of the day to be the snow-ish chunks of frozen precipitation that sporadically blew towards us. We had a quick first lunch break, and Jack added “dining in places with crazy amounts of wind” to his list of ways to reduce faff. Throughout the day a purple clothespin of mysterious origin was attached to the rucksacks or clothing of oblivious Fellwanderers. The term “peg paranoia” was coined to describe the compulsive feeling to search oneself when uncertain of the location of the peg. We rounded out our day with further debate on whether a top is a necessary component of a pie (it’s not) and our favorite blood-drawing-finger-jamming-people-screwing card games.

Day 7: Capturing Blowing Bags We awoke to the howling of crazy wind and for the thousandth time were grateful that Heather had decided for us to hike from West to East instead of East to West. Rain eventually returned, but so did the rainbows. In response to the long amount of time it generally took a person to realize they’d been pegged, certain members decided to spice up the peg game by also shoving sticks and other bits of brush into people’s gear. Though finding you’d been walking along with a purple peg attached to yourself was the ultimate fail, finding that you’d been walking along with a two foot stick protruding from your backpack was also pretty bad. Sticks alone not being enough, Fellwanderers eventually turned to slipping rocks in bags, switching water bottles, and swiping hats. Oh, the spiral of delinquency. We spent second lunch huddled in a bird-viewing hut where we watched the wind make crazy waves on a pond and discussed the best way to impersonate an electron. Though there had been much skepticism about the meal that night- due to there being no planning in advance for what the meal would be- it ended up being a delightful conglomeration of spaghetti, mince, and eggs, with plenty left for seconds. Seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths, etc. were also possible for pudding, which consisted of approximately 56 (give or take 50) cans of custard- because some deals at Morrison’s are too good to pass.

Day 8: Completion Our final day began with a bit of faffing as we sorted (and de-rocked) our bags and determined which bits were going where. Nathaniel demonstrated his knot-tying prowess as he roped our belongings to the minibus roof. As we drew nearer the city of Newcastle, we developed plans in case we encountered any angry gangs of people. Our best plan involved informing our attackers that James was from Manchester (a Manchester vs. Newcastle football match was slated for that evening) and then sprinting away. Our back-up plan involved pegging. We made our way through Newcastle, pausing to appreciate the beauty of the “Butterfly Paradise” and walking past a sampling of bridges and modern art. We stopped at a Wetherspoons for a final pint and scoped out their award winning loos. Several hours of walking later we reached a pile of brown bricks. Insignificant to most passerby, to us it signaled the end of our epic crosscountry journey. From Port-Carlisle to Newcastle, we had trekked the entire length of Hadrian’s Wall.

Pausing for some quick high fives, we made out way back to the minibus and soon were waving bye to the Angel of the North as we zipped along to Darlington. We stopped to pick up some fish and chips and silently snickered to see that James still had the peg on his shirttail where Sally had surreptitiously stuck it several hours earlier. Once again the Jones’s welcomed us to their home and Taa surprised us all by providing pudding, because no meal is complete without dessert. 250 miles or so later and we were pulling up in front of the union. Though outwardly grimy and disheveled from a week’s worth of walking, internally I couldn’t be happier as I recollected the incredible adventures I’d just had. Contently I headed towards the tube- though there was one concern lingering in my mind. Somewhere between Darlington and London the peg had disappeared and only time would tell when and where it would next appear.