The inaugural crossing, 30 April 1995 - report by Dave and Anne Carrivick
THE SMUGGLERS' WAY or "Frank, there's water in the car!"
Approximately 37
miles in length the Smugglers' Way provides a continually interesting traverse of the county, following beautiful river
valleys and visiting both Rough Tor and Brown Willy on its crossing of Bodmin Moor. Being a linear route does mean
a little more planning with regard to transport, but for this inaugural completion we had the luxury of support in the person
of Byron Green.
Travelling to Boscastle in Frank's car gave a hint of possible problems ahead.
Contrary to normal the car was getting increasingly misted up. Knowing there had been a recent leakage problem we assumed
it was the interior drying out with the heater on. Frank seemed totally unconcerned anyway.
You
will probably not need us to tell you what a picturesque place Boscastle is, but if you have not visited before allow
yourself time to not only explore the village, but to admire the spectacular coastal scenery all around. Byron was briefed
as to our first rendezvous, but he was a little worried about the car so we drank the contents of one of our water bottles
and left him with the empty as a 'topping up' contatiner, just in case! Leaving the tiny harbour we were soon in the
delightful wooded valley of the Valency River.
Our first meeting with Byron was to be on Davidstow
Airfield. The airfield marks the end of the longest road section of the whole route - 2.5 miles. The complete journey
uses no more than about eight miles of quiet minor roads - a bit different to the Saint's Way! Byron had been kept quite
busy with his 'topping-up' container. Luckily there were a lot of large puddles to supply him. They all had tadpoles
in. We hoped the water going into the car didn't have too many black wriggling objects in it. Byron did mention the car
was getting a bit damp inside, but Frank was far too busy concentrating on the next section of the route to be concerned.
We headed off again past the impressive Lanlavery Rock, then beside a forest. Now onto the Moor. Uphill
past Showery Tor to the summit of Rough Tor. Another mile and the summit of Brown Willy was gained. Descending from this dizzy
height(!) Jamaica Inn is the next highlight - one of the very few places en route to get refreshments or even to stay overnight
if so inclined. Byron was waiting for us. While we ate and drank he regaled us with tales of how many trips he'd had to
make to the Gents' loo to fill the pitifull little half-litre bottle. In fact, so many trips that mental deterioration
meant he'd found himself inexplicably in the Ladies' loo with the little bottle! A hasty retreat was made. The words:
"Frank, there's water in the car" again made no impression.
Our next objective
was Dozmary Pool with its mythical connections with King Arthur and the unfortunate Jan Tregeagle. From there on to the summit
of Brown Gelly with its five tumulii. Superb views from the summit, north to the Atlantic Ocean, south to the English
Channel. The western skyline is dominated by the china clay workings around St Austell. On the eastern horizon are the outlying
hills of Dartmoor. In his guide book Frank gives a bearing for crossing Draynes Common as the public footpath is not actually
visible on the ground. Trenant provides the only camp site directly on the route. The river Fowey was soon met and followed
to Treverbyn Bridge, where the stoical Byron was waiting for us.
Byron had been intending to
visit Golitha Falls before we arrived, but had been too busy with radiator filling! He was so insistent with his "Frank,
there's water in the car" routine this time that Frank took enough notice to rummage around for his trusty RAC
card. Frank is an enthusiastic member of the RAC, so much so that they recently sent him a very nice letter expressing their
pleasure in him finding their services so useful, but that his membership fee will have to be increased if he continues to
over-use, sorry, use them.
Up until now Frank had carried a lightly filled rucksack, taking no
food and relying on supplies from the car. The Carrivicks, not having such faith in things mechanical, had been carrying their
food all day. Frank decided it might be prudent to carry a few supplies as well now! Off we went.
It's strange how your brain can die without you being aware of it for some time. After a couple of miles or so Dave
and I were both looking at Frank's back (as we tried to keep up with him). We were both thinking something was wrong/different.
We didn't recognise his T-shirt, hadn't noticed him changing it. Both simultaneosly realised what it was - no rucksack!!
"Er, Frank, you know what a good idea it was to carry some food and drink ......?" The rucksack had ben left in
the boot of the car at Treverbyn Bridge. Onward progress was impeded by us all rolling around laughing for some time.
The path from Poldew via Havett Farm was impassable without climbing over barbed wire, fording streams
etc., but this has since been remedied. Using this path avoids diverting on to the road past Dobwalls Theme Park, a very busy
road in summer.
Dobwalls was our next meeting point with Byron. The RAC card had been used
to summon assistance and Byron insisted he was not moving until it came! A little over a mile of road walking from Dobwalls
and a Celtic Cross is passed. The next landmark is Scawn Mill and the infant West Looe River. The hamlet of Herodsfoot is
soon followed by a wooded section where the river runs parallel to the path, but some way below. We reached another hamlet,
Churchbridge, and were soon in Tremadart Wood.
The river is joined again before Sowden's Bridge. Watergate
is the start of the final section. Kilminorth Wood has a delightful riverside path, which eventually leads to Looe 's
Millpool car park.
Here Byron was waiting in the (repaired) car, and joined us for the walk through
Looe to the finish at the red marker on Banjo Pier. Frank, having been reunited with his rucksack in Dobwalls, presented us
all with rum truffles - appropriate Smugglers' Way food!
What a superb day out. There was
always something of interest. If you walk the Smugglers' Way you might not have rum truffles at the finish but you will
have had a day to remember. Frank has produced a very informative guidebook, and there is also a most attractive certificate
available.
We returned to the car. Byron opened the driver's door with a dramatic flourish
and - there was water in the car. Several inches of it in fact. Empty sandwich boxes did quite a
good job of baling most of it out. We have not ridden in a 'tidal' car before. The remaining water slopping backwards
and forwards gave every impression of being at the seaside. We finished the walk with dry feet, arrived home with very wet
feet. A novel ending to a great day out!
______________________________
16 August 1996 - by Neil Tweedie, Playing Place, Truro, Cornwall
Participants:
Neil Tweedie - Self appointed leader (mainly on the grounds that he has the details, the map, the compass and
he's a big bossy Scotsman). Survivor of the Land's End Round, ceaseless chatterer and searcher after new and gruelling
challenges.
Caroline Rawlings - Extremely fast, young and fit. Never seems to tire and famous
for never carrying any water on the grounds that there is always some idiot carrying enough for two. Averages 80 miles a week
when fit but cuts that down to 78 miles when injured.
John Teagle - A man of few words, every
one of which is worth waiting for. Always seems to regain his energy over the last 5 miles when the pub visit is imminent.
He spends a lot of time away on business and has probably run in most countries on each continent.
Anne Tweedie - Long suffering better half of the leader. She claims to enjoy providing back-up, but in reality it is a cunning
ploy to avoid doing housework or gardening. Allegations of undue pressure from leader are grossly exaggerated. She is getting
better at map reading as long as someone gives her the map the right way up.
Whistlefield Winston
(Jack to his friends) - Loyal, handsome, intelligent labrador. Happy to provide exuberant welcome to all participants at each
stopping point and to share food and water. Has recently taken to vanishing upstairs and hiding under the bed whenever OS
maps appear or anyone mentions moors.
Malcolm Devenport - was scheduled to take part but telephoned
on the eve of departure to complain of a very sore throat heralding the arrival of a cold. It was felt by the three runners
that in view of the multitude of ailments from which they were suffering, affecting every limb and organ in their bodies and
caused by viruses and bacteria of every kind both known and unknown, he was wimping out. Since Malcolm, by his own admission,
would have been the slowest of the group there was much disappointment at his absence since each of the others was depending
on him to keep the pace down and thus save his or her status. If he is harbouring any thoughts that he has got out of this
one then he is mistaken. Revenge is being plotted even as I write. [Malcolm did eventually complete the Way - eleven years
later!]
The weather man said, "Sun all day" which made us feel goodhearted
As we stood shivering in the fog just longing to get started.
The Smugglers' Way we'd
come to do, from Boscastle Harbour ring
With coughs and colds and viruses, and aches in everything.
With compass, maps and spectacles, our trusty leader Neil
Instructed us to follow
him and keep close upon his heel.
With 'L' upon his left hand and 'R' upon his right
The man was full of confidence that we'd get to Looe tonight.
The first three
miles went by OK, this looked like just plain sailing,
But then we found a plantation surrounded by
a railing.
It wasn't on the map, you see, there should be just a stile.
We
each one blamed the other as we went an extra mile.
Caroline, being a woman and therefore wise,
you see,
Believes that straight lines are the best to get from A to B.
She's
training for a marathon and wants a personal best -
The scenic route's alright for some, but she'll
leave that to the rest.
At Davidstow we had a stop, a biscuit and a drink,
"It's
a pity that the fog has gone", was all that Neil could think.
Lanlavery Rock, our landmark, in
the distance we could spy,
To stop his sulks we covered our eyes so his compass he could try.
At the foothills of Brown Willy, young Caroline wants to know
Why to the top and
down again of both we've got to go -
It would be easier and more sense to run around the bank.
It's got to be the hard way girl, just blame your Uncle Frank.
The letter box
we found with ease, the compass reading fair,
Our names and date we left in it to show that we were
there.
To Jamaica now, our lunch awaits, a buffet and some wine.
We sign the
book, have one more glass and agree we're doing fine.
At Dozmary Pool, we had agreed, to
tiptoe with some care,
We didn't want to see a sword emerging in the air.
It
isn't likely though, we thought, that we three reprobates
Could summon up the pedigree that saving
England takes.
We kept a wary eye for bulls as Brown Gelly came our way,
Is
Dartmoor east or west? Who cares, there's too much mist today.
Draynes Common and the china clay
were quickly passed, and then
A stretch of roads and tracks to get us running again.
Caroline wants the pace to be a nifty six point five,
John feels seven point five an hour would help
him stay alive.
But Neil, the elder statesman, feels an average would be fine,
Of fourteen
minute miles, he says, we'll still get there on time.
At Dobwalls we were most perplexed,
a busy road to cross,
The sign it says A38, Oh surely we're not lost!
Our
Uncle Frank has written here A30 we did find
But surely, folks, that's what we saw some ten miles
there behind.
The sun is shining now, we're hot, the river's so inviting,
Splashing
cool water all over ourselves is really quite exciting.
So unforgettable it is that Neil forgets his
glasses,
How strange the navigation improves with every mile that passes.
At last we reach the town of Looe, filled with ten thousand folks,
All eating chips and candy floss,
beefburgers, beer and cokes.
So civilised we all remark, see Cornwall at its best,
It's
elbows out and hurry on to complete the gruelling test.
The countdown starts upon the quay, 300,
two and one,
then 80, 70, 60 - now we see it can't be done!
The gate is
closed, we can't get through to reach our final aim.
Oh heck, this surely doesn't mean we must
do it all again.
Please, Uncle Frank, it's not our fault, we can't be prosecuted,
Thirty six long miles, 1700 yards have just been executed.
Your sympathy and pity, please
extend to we three souls,
And send us our certificates to hang upon the walls.
A final swim to finish off for Caroline, Neil and Jack,
John said he'd only paddle as his cold
was coming back.
Then in the car and homeward bound, we've lived to tell the tale.
With
a little stop, as you'd expect, to enjoy a sup of ale.
Total time taken 8 hours 29 minutes.
Being hedonists and believers in making everything as enjoyable as possible, our breaks gave us the opportunity
to fortify the inner person with fruit, chocolate, quiche, new potatoes, assorted salads, rolls and butter, melon, wine, fruit
juice, cake and flapjacks (baked by Caroline's fair hand), pasties and of course water.
A
wonderful time was had by all - at least that is the feeling now that it's two weeks in the past.
______________________________
18 March 1999 - by Brian Guy and Linda McCarthy, Buckfastleigh, Devon
4 am. We left Buckfastleigh and headed for Boscastle, weather report favourable. After driving through fog near Boscastle
and Camelford we descended into Boscastle and left the fog on the high ground. We hoped it would lift as we walked out.
Car locked, rucksacks on our backs we made our way to the harbour wall, the white of the sea breaking on
the rocks beyond the wall showing bright in the half-light of dawn.
6am on the dot, and virtually
totally daylight we set off from the wall. Quite warm air made the wooded valley, after crossing the car park, very pleasant
with the river tumbling below on our right. Sheep and lambs bleated loudly as we crossed the fields after Lesnewth,
just like an early morning alarm call. As we neared the road section towards the airfield the fog was still there but had
lifted slightly.
Crossing the airfield, Rough Tor and Brown Willy were nowhere in sight, just fog. Compass bearings
across to the trees, reset for Showery Tor as we started to climb. Just as we started to make out the faint shape of the top
with just a few metres to go, suddenly the fog blew away and there was the top clear and a view of Rough Tor, Brown Willy,
Delabole windfarm and Launceston windfarm quite clear but still hazy on the long range view. But still a view - more than
we had expected, a bonus.
Coffee on Rough Tor looking towards Brown Willy and sheltering from
the wind that had blown up, but still very pleasant. On down the slope and over to, and up Brown Willy, and still the views.
Onwards to Bolventor, no problem, going was good. Into Jamaica Inn, asked for and duly signed the book. A quick look in the
book to see if we recognised anyone, and found the last time I did the walk with Tony Grimes, Bob Harris and Mike Skeemer.
Out of the Inn and on towards Dozmary Pool, passing four lads heading in the opposite direction. Onward,
we started the climb up Brown Gelly and passed another group of rucksack-laden youngsters coming down over on our left. Lunch
on the top, and still rewarding views accompanying our sandwiches.
Refreshed we moved on past
the quarry workings over the Common and made our way to the Fowey river. Lovely spot, but as you say in the route description
it ends all too soon and we climbed the steps and on to the road at Treverbyn Bridges. Up the hill - seems to drag that one
- and at last back across the fields to Dobwalls. Magnum ice cream order of the day at the Spar shop to perk us up for the
next bit of road to Scawn Mill.
Back into the more enjoyable atmosphere of trees and river we
continued on through the forest with forest workers and their chainsaws the only modern day noises disturbing the scene. Cup
of tea and quick bite by the little bridge in Tremadart Woods and now the final dash towards Kilminorth Woods and into Looe.
Down the car park, over the bridge and along the quay keeping pace with a small motor boat making its way to the mouth
of the river. Round the toilet block and on to the Banjo Pier and to the end, arriving at 5.30pm. 11½ hours after setting out. A very enjoyable day.
As we
sat at the end of the Banjo Pier watching the evening sunset and five trawlers heading back into the river with the day's
catch our stomachs let us know fish and chips would round off the day a treat. We headed back for the car which Linda's
parents had picked up for us from Boscastle and left at Looe for us to collect at our leisure.
Feet refreshed with clean socks and trainers, off to the chippy. Stomachs now happy we headed back to Buckfastleigh in the
dark just as we'd done at 4am this morning. A beautiful day with good weather after the intial fog, and good scenery.
I've done the walk twice now, both times perfect weather.
[The groups that
Brian and Linda met were Public Services students from St Austell College, backpacking the
Smugglers'
Way south-north over three days]
______________________________
Easter 2000 - by Michael Skinner, Gravesend, Kent
We
dit it! It was at Easter this year that we (Mike and Jan, Don and Jane, Stuart and Caroline, Murdo and Pat) successfully completed
the Smugglers Way, travelling north to south.
Day 1, 21 April
We left Boscastle at 9.37am in driving rain, by 9.40 we were all absolutely soaked but decided to complete the rest of the
walk! It rained hard off and on for most of the day and there was also a strong headwind in our faces most of the time! The
ground underfoot in several places was quite boggy, and Davidstow Airfield was a desolate place to have lunch. We sheltered
at Lanlavery Rock at 2.07pm, reached the summit of Rough Tor at 3.10pm and reached the summit of Brown Willy at 4.00pm. Finally
we arrived at Jamaica Inn at 5.47pm. What a day! We felt a real sense of achievement as we had completed day 1 of our
plan on schedule in the worst of weather conditions.
Day 2, 22 April
It surely wouldn't be as hard? Miraculously the sun started to shine, although some areas were quite boggy (particularly
around Dozmary Pool). We left Jamaica Inn at 10.53am (er . . . bit of a lie in!), reached summit of Brown Gelly at 12.30pm
and had lunch on Draynes Common at 1.35pm. Went past Trenant at 2.50pm and Treverbyn Bridge at 3.10pm, finally arriving in
Dobwalls at 4.05pm.
Day 3, 23 April Sun continued to shine,
everyone in good spirits despite the odd ache or pain! We left Dobwalls at 10.22am, went past Herodsfoot at 11.28am, had lunch
in Tremadart Wood, passed Sowden's Bridge at 1.54pm and arrived Banjo Pier at 3.20pm.
On
behalf of everyone in our group I would like to say that we really did enjoy the challenge and route of the Smugglers'
Way. It has given us some wonderful memories to look back on. Do you know of any similar challenges that a group like
us (?!) could attempt next?
______________________________
Winter 2008/09 - Oliver Howes, Wadebridge.
To read Oliver's report, and to access
links to a wealth of information on the Cornish Countryside, visit
http://www.oliverscornwall.co.uk/smugglersway.html#Smugglers _______________________________
An account of the first completion of Saints & Smugglers, 19/20 July 1997 by Dave and Anne Carrivick.
Having devised
The Smugglers' Way as an excellent means of crossing Cornwall from coast to coast, Frank realised he had provided the
missing link in a potential circular Cornish 100-mile route. The route uses The Saints' Way and The Smugglers'
Way to cross the County and the coastal footpath to connect them. Naturally, being very enthusiastic coastpath people, and
knowing what a superb route the Smugglers' Way is, we were very keen to have a go.
This particular 100 has
a couple of logistical problems - ferry crossings at the rivers Camel and Fowey. Being prone to excessive worrying about most
things we decided it would be mentally beneficial to get both crossings over with as soon as possible. We therefore proposed
to start and (hopefully!) finish at Pentire, which is about a mile along the north coast from Polzeath. Ample car parkin,
and not too far to drive home after. The attempt was to be 19th/20th July. Food boxes were filled and
taken out the day before.
We left Pentire Farm at 6.30am. A bright morning but with a breeze. We arrived far
too early at Rock and had to wait about half an hour for the first ferry to take us across the River Camel. Better than arriving
late and missing it though! Having found Padstow Parish Church - not having had to locate it from the harbour before - we
eventually started The Saints’ Way at approximately 8.30am.
We have not used The Saints’ Way for may years
as it has little appeal to us as a route. True, there are some lovely sections but these are completely overwhelmed by the
vast amounts of roads used. However, on this particular occasion the roads might prove an advantage, enabling faster progress.
The route is now very well way-marked, but does deviate in places from our rather old guide-book. We were a bit surprised
to find it now uses even more road than before. Anyway, suffice it to say we arrived at Fowey Church just after 4.00pm feeling
jaded and in need of sustenance. Our first food dump had been at Lanivet where we devoured everything it contained. Fowey,
being a tourist hot-spot, could be relied upon to provide some carbohydrates in the form of fish and chips. We bought cans
of drink as well.
We had a short wait for the ferry to take us over the River Fowey to Polruan, but once we set foot
on land again it was a good feeling to know both ferry crossings had been accomplished - one pressure less.
The weather
had been excellent until now. After the bright start it had clouded over quite well from mid-morning with enough breeze to
keep us relatively cool. Unfortunately, on the next stage of the journey - the 7-mile stretch of coastal path to Polperro
which is described as being ‘tough’ - the sun came out with a vengeance. It was dreadfully hot. The beneficial
effects of the food, drink and rest in Fowey quickly evaporated along with energy and enthusiasm. I (Anne) felt close to despair
at times, and could see no hope of finishing this 100. So many aches and pains and bits seized up - important sort of bits
like hips and knees! How could we ever have imagined we could do this with no training? How totally stupid can one get? I
was making the fatal mistake of looking too far ahead. Instead of concentrating on getting to Polperro and taking it from
there I was mentally going over the rest of the route - and being horrified at what I saw!
We made our sorry way into
Polperro, arriving about 7.00pm. We needed food and drink again, but we didn’t want to think about food. All that seemed
to be on offer were chips and various crab dishes, ugh, no, no, no! Salvation appeared in the shape of a tea shop/café
which had jacket potatoes on offer. The young couple running this establishment didn’t object to two vile, sweaty walkers,
so in we went. We ordered two potatoes, which we weren’t sure we’d be able to eat, and a pot of tea which would
be more than welcome. After a dodgy start the potatoes and their accompanying salad went down very well, and the rest out
of the sun was doing wonders too. Enthusiasm was fully restored by the time we left. We could even, with hindsight, appreciate
the lovely stretch of coastline with its magnificent sea views that we had just struggled to badly on.
Still sunny,
not a cloud in sight but obviously cooler now and the clear sky heralding a hopefully clear night with a nearly full moon.
The 5½ miles to Looe, although certainly not flat, is much less severe and again provides lovely coastal walking. The
next stage of the 100 is The Smugglers’ Way, which starts at the red marker on the Banjo Pier on the East Looe side.
We were arriving on the West Looe side, so this entailed a walk up to the bridge and down the other side to the pier. We passed
several hotels and pubs which seemed to be competing with each other for the amount of over-amplified noise they could produce.
Some of the '‘performers'’ were excruciatingly bad, attempting to sing slow, mournful ballads when they
were more than a little inebriated - and couldn’t sing anyway . Not a smart idea, but it gave us a good laugh anyway.
We
duly made our way to the red marker, arriving just after 9.00pm. Wandering back to the bridge we noticed a takeaway pizza
place. We weren’t really feeling in need of food (those Polperro potatoes had done a wonderful job) but with night rapidly
approaching and our next food dump not until Dobwalls, we thought perhaps a bite to eat might be a wise move. Pizza ordered,
there would be a ten-minute or so wait for it. My my, how time drags! In the overall scale of such a walk this time loss is
infinitesimal but we waited in a growing fever of impatience. Why were we having this food anyway? We probably didn’t
need it. It’s getting dark, we could have been well on our way into the woods by now, etc. I said at the beginning of
this report that we worry about most things!! The pizza arrived and was absolutely delicious, and we were surprised to find
how hungry we were. It was well worth losing those few minutes to have some nourishing hot food inside us again.
We
set off to do The Smugglers’ Way for our fifth time. This is such a good route, a wonderful way to cross the County.
So endeth the advert! A couple of groups of teenagers smoking their whacky backy in Kilminorth Woods seemed all very jovial
as we passed! We put torches on at Sowden’s Bridge and quickly got scratched and stung to add to the scratches and stings
we’d already gained on the Saints’ Way. We were pleased not to get lost at all between Sowden’s Bridge and
Herodsfoot, as we’d had a bit of a detour due to tree-felling operations last time we journeyed this way - and that
was during the day! One noteworthy thing about this section was the profusion of lovely sweet-smelling Meadow Sweet and the
pleasant smell of pine resin from the stacked logs. There was a very bright glow-worm in the hedge just after Scawn Mill.
We hadn’t seen one of them for years.
Our next food dump was just before the railway bridge on the outskirts of
Dobwalls. We managed to eat a few bits and pieces. It was just after 1.00am, and it was surprising how much traffic there
still was. It must have been a bit of an odd sight, two people sat beside the road eating food out of a box, pouring little
bags of powder ("Staminade and H.Five, honestly Officer!") into water bottles. Dave upset some of the powder, and
also spilt water, which all seeped underneath him giving him a muddy puddle to sit in - but strangely at those sort of rather
unreal times nothing seems to bother you too much. He managed to add just a touch of Complan to the puddle to help the overall
stickiness.
We put thermal tops on here as it was very dewy and felt a bit chilly, and used the road past Dobwalls Theme
Park as we didn’t want to go through Havett Farm at that time of night, sorry - morning. At the gate leading onto the
Moor and Draynes Common we put tracksters on, anticipating colder air with the more open ground and increased height. We soon
felt too warm, though we had very wet feet so they weren’t too hot! The moon gave good silhouettes to help
with route finding. Dozmary Pool had a shimmering moonbeam right across it - a really magical sight. Two very frisky horses
kept running up, probably attracted by the torches, then galloping off again with much kicking of heels and leaping around.
We
reached the next food dump just beyond Jamaica Inn at about 4.30am, in early morning light. We couldn’t eat any food,
but Complan went down okay. We thought it wise to carry some of the food with us, as it might be useful later, anticipating
a long day to come.
Much as we appreciate The Smugglers’ Way as a route, the one part we don’t enjoy is
Davidstow Moor and the Airfield. We certainly didn’t enjoy it this time, feeling very sick, very tired, very hot, and
with very tender feet. Not happy! The last food dump was near the Halwill Farm entrance and we were so pleased to stop, take
our saturated shoes and socks off, and dry our feet a little. The rest did more good than anything. We put food into our 'sacks
again for possible later use, as although we were hoping to buy more food en route it seemed prudent to carry something as
emergency back-up. We continued along the delightful route. Today we saw no dippers in the Valency River, although we’ve
always seen at least one before, and sometimes two or three. Perhaps they were on holiday.
We arrived at Boscastle just
after 10.00am and sat in the car park eating some of our stores and changing into dry socks. It was very hot by now. Only
twenty miles to go but we expected to take a long time due to the heat and the hard coastal walking. It was less than 4½
miles to Tintagel but it seemed to go on for ever. No breeze, just the unrelenting heat and brightness. Even though we knew
from past experience that it was an awful place we went into the ‘café’ at Tintagel Cove. Its main attraction
was shaded seating, so perhaps it could provide refreshments. Suffice to say it fully lived up to expectations!
On again,
the heat now so intense it seemed hard even to breathe. We sat in any shade we could find for a few minutes. Creeping down
into Trebarwith Strand we found a lovely spot of shade and resolved to have a decent stop. We still had until 6.30am tomorrow
to get it done in 48 hours! Sitting in the shade was very therapeutic and we even dozed off once or twice. Before we left
we got some food down and refilled the water bottles. Although our stoop was only forty minutes it felt as good as a night’s
sleep. As we left to begin the climb out of the cove a few wispy clouds appeared and the sun became partially obscured. Wonderful!
Not just rest, food and liquid but less heat and brightness as well.
The next section to Port Isaac is again acknowledged
as ‘tough’. We started off well feeling much refreshed, but when the sun burnt away the wispy cloud cover we wilted
again, and from the ‘donkey-hole’ to Port Gaverne it was back to being a rather unhappy plod. Again, it’s
a beautiful stretch of coastline, but having completed around 90 miles we didn’t seem able to appreciate it much. We
arrived in Port Gaverne at 5.15pm. We were hoping to buy food at Port Isaac, so soup and tea had to suffice: the liquid would
do us good anyway. Only 8 miles to go now (Frank reckons the route is 102 miles) and the steep gradients were finished with.
The path from Port Isaac to Port Quin is not flat, but is never so steep.
As we got closer to Port Quin we
could see Rumps Point gradually coming closer, with the end almost in sight. Two people out walking their dogs on Kellan Head
greeted us with "We have been watching you, have you come far? Have you come from Port Isaac?" We explained our
route and they, being local and therefore knowing the area, were very interested. Talking to them was such a morale booster
as they were so pleased for us. We left feeling mentally restored again. It would have been a good idea to sit down while
talking though - we just didn’t think about it at the time. Soon we were in Port Quin, all the film set ‘buildings’
now gone. We ate the last pieces of banana cake. On again, and using a packet of mint cake as fuel we arrived back at Pentire
Farm at 9.45pm. We drove home immediately while Dave was still ‘revved up’ by it all.
This is certainly
the hardest 100 we have done. Our lack of fitness didn’t help and the heat was a real nuisance. Nevertheless it is a
splendid route.
A lot of memories and, in spite of what it might seem in view of the preceding moaning and whinging,
most of them are happy ones. The Saints and Smugglers Hundred is well worth doing - ONCE!
