Day 8: The Longest Day and the Breakdown Day

I learned from a runner I encountered high up on the trail that there’s a challenge called The Wainwrights or The Wainwright Round. The goal is to tackle all 214 peaks across the Lake District. There’s no fixed route — you can link them however you like, as long as you start and finish at Moot Hall, Keswick. Alternatively, you can do them as an ultramarathon if you’re feeling particularly unhinged.

So far I’ve done 7:

• Helm Crag

• Gibson Knott

• Calf Crag

• Seat Saddle - the accidental one - following two women who weren't hiking the C2C.

• Dollywaggon Pike

• Nethermost Pike

• Helvellyn

Apparently these are not easy ones — some of the big, iconic, high‑level fells. A very respectable start.

How come Kidsty Pike doesn’t count?   Because Wainwright didn’t include it in his Pictorial Guides. It’s a brilliant mountain, but it sits just outside the area he chose to cover. So it’s a “C2C classic,” but not a Wainwright.

So that leaves me with 208 to go. Although… not on this trip.

The midges were still out in force this morning, so I packed up quickly and was off by 6:30am. Today was the day that would break me. I think in every thru‑hike there is one. Remember: it is OK not to be OK, so no shame in shedding a few tears.

I started off in a great Kate Bush mood — “Out on the wily, windy moor, we’d roll and fall in green.” It was a bit of a climb out of Keld. That was my doing: I took the high route because I wanted to see Crackpot Hall and all the lead mines. I wasn’t disappointed.

Crackpot Hall — an old ruined farmhouse that dates back to the 18th Century. The local stories tell a tale of a crazed girl with a wild, cackling laugh who supposedly haunts the area. Turns out she was just the rambunctious daughter of the owner. Still, it was fascinating to explore the dilapidated ruin and imagine how glorious and magnificent it must have been in its day. It was abandoned in the 1930s due to subsidence from the lead mines.

Next came a thread of disused and abandoned lead and smelting mines. These absolutely fascinate me. I find them eerie but also evocative — lonely, desolate, each with hidden stories now known only to the remaining walls. Gunnerside Moor, Swinner Gill Mine, Blakethwaite Ruins, Old Gang Smelting Mines — the names alone conjure wild images of noise, machinery, shouts of workers, and an industrial past that once thrived and now lies hauntingly skeletal. I had the whole area to myself, which made it even more incredible.

I’d walked with Margo and Reindert for a while, then carried on as they rested. At the top of one section I turned and waved what became a very emotional goodbye as they shrank into tiny dots weaving through the heather. We would not meet again on the trail. After today I’d be too far ahead for our paths to cross. I surprised myself with the tears — was it just saying goodbye, or a sign I was run down, tired, depleted?

It made me reflect on the friendships you make on an undertaking like this. People thrown together from all over the world with one common goal — to complete this hike. Complete strangers one day, and friends the next day as you get to know them so well. You get excited to see them on the trail, to share stories, to hear about their version of the route you now know, to learn where they stayed, the state of their feet, their bodies, their blisters. Intimate details you might not even share with your best friends, but you share with these new hiking buddies because they get it. They are living this experience with you. That connection is amplified on a thru‑hike. These fleeting moments were special and meaningful and will last a long time — part of my whole C2C experience.

Reeth is a beautiful little town. I had the best grilled cheese sandwich I think I’ve ever had in my life, and an equally delicious can of Dandelion and Burdock. I chatted with a couple — Charlotte and Connor — who remembered me from the Lakes. I commented on their footwear: Hokas, like mine, and like me — no blisters!

Lots of hikers and guide books suggest splitting this day and stopping at Reeth. Not me. Feeling refreshed and dry‑eyed, I headed on to Richmond, leaving the ruins and moors behind and entering a more arable landscape: farmers’ fields, stiles, gates. It was hot now, and even without Mini‑me I was starting to feel it. I didn’t fancy refilling my water bottle from the streams — too much arable run‑off.

I’d planned to explore Richmond — the cathedral, the churches, the town — but it was already 5pm and Google told me it was still another 3–4 miles to my campsite. I grabbed water and a couple of sausage rolls from Greggs and trudged on. Everyone in Richmond seemed to be heading to the river to cool off. I would have loved to join them, but I wanted to make it to camp.

More fields, more stiles, more heat.

By the time I reached St Giles Farm at 6:45pm, I was a mess — hot, emotional, tired, and for the first time on the trip, fed up. I recognised Laura as I walked through the gate and immediately burst into tears. Seeing a friendly face was amazing after such a long day. The host brought us tea and cake and we had a long catch‑up. Laura had ended up catching a bus and taxi as her feet and knees were so sore, and today was her rest day. She was upset and disappointed, but had listened to her body. Sensible!

I had a lovely shower and managed to erase the grime of the day from my tired body, then set up my pitch — the second campsite of the trip with free‑range chickens. (I keep chickens myself and love them!)

Laura and I were the only campers. The owner, Simon, reminded me of a farmer‑version of Stephen Fry — frightfully well‑spoken and delightful to chat with.

In quiet reflection of the day, I asked myself: why had I experienced such emotion? What went wrong?

My food consumption amounted to:

• a porridge pot

• a grilled cheese sandwich

• 2 oat and honey granola bars

• a sausage roll

• a slice of cake

• a can of pop

• and probably not enough water

I had hiked 46 km/28.5 miles, climbed 1,147 m, and been on my feet for 10 hours.

Simple input versus output deficit. Not the first time this has happened. I hadn’t given enough attention to where I could find food and resupply. I need to do this better on future trips. If you’re following along, make sure you don’t make the same mistake. You cannot eat the amount you expend on a thru‑hike like this.

I’m glad I carried electrolyte tablets for my water — otherwise I think I would have been cramping and feeling even worse, if that were possible.

(I found out the next day that the campsite was also a B&B, and if I’d asked, I could have had a cooked breakfast for a tenner instead of a cold, squashed sausage roll from Greggs.)

Lesson number 2: Be bold and ask. Same goes for water — knock on doors and ask.

Strava Stats (with imperial conversions)

• Distance: 46 km (28.58 miles)

• Elevation gain: 1,147 m (3,763 ft)

• Total time: 10 hours