The Lyke Wake Walk is a 40 mile crossing of the North Yorkshire Moors. At the annual Wake, the New Lyke Wake Club awards ‘degrees‘ to people who make multiple crossings. These degrees are progressive ie you need to be a Master/ Mistress of Misery before you can move on to become a Doctor of Dolefulness.
Here I am documenting my Journey to Doctorate (a total of seven crossings including a Winter crossing and an unsupported crossing).
The times, elevations and miles are all taken from my recorded Strava. There is some variation due to different route choices taken and one detour on my Winter crossing (which added on a couple of miles) after the weather conditions made the river crossing at Wheeldale Beck far too dangerous.
Crossing 1: 16 August 2021
40.37miles
4982ft
West-East Solo Unsupported
11hours 20 minutes
I decided to do a solo unsupported crossing primarily to see if I could. One of the challenges for me was carrying 5 litres of water and enough food to keep me fuelled (I love food).
At the time of my first crossing, I had about 3 years of long distance running experience, although many of these miles were in the company of others or as part of a race. The thought of spending time alone and tackling something like that without support interested me, this was new territory. It was also just over a year since the first COVID lockdown, when the walls of our house seemed to move closer and the noise levels even higher. To be honest, I think I was perhaps just looking forward to some peace and quiet. So early in the morning my husband dropped me off at Osmotherley and drove our son to the coast for a day at the beach and I set off laden with snacks and water.
That first crossing was light and breezy, whilst the elevation at the beginning of the route made it challenging, it was manageable and the good weather conditions made for a great day out. I tracked the route on my map and flicked through the pages and pictures of the book, following each turn and stone and story with each step forwards. I ran sections of it and hiked others, arriving much later than I anticipated (the mast that never seems to get any closer!) arriving in Ravenscar as the sun was setting. I piled into the van and called my mum on the way home to tell her, to which she replied…
“The Lyke Wake Walk…? I’ve done that! I’m a Mistress of Misery!”
What I didn’t know before I started my crossing was that my family had a longstanding connection with the Lyke Wake Walk. My maternal grandad had completed 4 crossings, my mum had completed 3 of those crossings with him in 1969 (at the age of 14). I had no idea up until that point that she was a Mistress of Misery, it’s something that was completely omitted in the retelling of my family’s folklore. Not only on my mum’s side of the family, but my dad had also completed the crossing when he was in the Police force, as had my Uncle. I was well aware of my family’s connection to other long distance events (Haworth Hobble and Fellsman, both events which I have also completed) but not to this one. I found it interesting how the Lyke Wake Walk had also pulled me in, albeit without knowledge of my family’s connection.
On uncovering my family’s history with the route, I couldn’t help but feel that the Lyke Wake Walk is my birthright, and so the seed was planted to do more crossings and the real planning began.
Start of my solo unsupported crossing
My mum’s condolence cards
Blue man o’ th’ moss
Photograph of mum’s crossing (she’s on the far right)
My grandad’s condolence cards
My grandad’s condolence card, pin and compass
Crossing 2: 4 August 2022
40.52miles
4664ft
East-West Crossing
10 hours 38 minutes
Which way is easier?
I’m not sure whether it was because I wasn’t carrying the 5 litres of water I had carried on my solo crossing, but East-West felt so much easier, despite the hilly climbs at the Osmotherly end. The moorland was dry underfoot and I was able to run parts of the route. It also felt familiar to me, there were less unknowns, although I was running in the opposite direction. My husband and son met me at the road crossings with water and food and cheered me on. I looked forward to these little breaks and knew that it wouldn’t be too long before I saw them again. This helped me to break up the crossing into manageable chunks, the importance of those little lifts in mood when I saw them can not be underestimated.
It is days like this that I really remember the love I have for long distance running. Near perfect conditions, the sky putting on a perfect display of deep blues and golden yellow, the purple hue and intoxicating smell of the heather. It was the thing of dreams!
My East-West crossing was just incredible and I think set in my mind a strong preference for heading West (which would later influence my decisions on future crossings). The weather was perfect and there were very few people around (just a couple of C2C walkers). I saw two snakes, one was a small grass snake and the other was an adder, both moved pretty quick as soon as I went to take a picture so missed them!
Lilla Cross
Sunset
Flagstones
Crossing 3: 11 February 2024
Winter Crossing – East to West
42.12miles
5152ft
13 hours 23 minutes
I decided to do the Winter crossing East-West with my friend Dawn. This was her first crossing and would be her first walk/run at that distance (so she really had no idea what she was letting herself in for). Luckily for me Dawn is not only resilient but she is also incredibly stubborn. A good mix when you take on challenges such as this.
The weather forecast was for heavy rain but that was due to clear around midday. We layered up with waterproofs and were dropped off by the radio mast in the pitch black and driving rain by her husband. We set off at 6.30am with our head torches on, laughing to each other at just how ridiculous it was to be embarking on such an adventure, at such a time of day/ year. The first 20 miles were wet and we spent much of that time wading through paths that were largely made up of rivers and waterfalls. When we crossed moorland, it was boggy and uneven and very hard going under foot.
We jogged where we could, which was not a lot. We spotted a headless dove at one point which was early on enough for it to be ominous.
About 3 hours into the crossing I realised that I was completely wet as my waterproof jacket was leaking. I managed my temperature well – adding more layers and eating, but I knew that this crossing was over unless I had a kit change. My mum and dad were going to meet us with hot water – a quick call home and they brought ALL my clothes too.
When we reached the stepping stones at Wheeldale Beck, the river was too fast to cross and we made a detour, adding more miles on. It was frustrating and disheartening. By 2pm it was still raining and we were fast talking ourselves into an exit plan. A quick list of everything that was going right (no injuries, legs felt ok, dry forecast) and we decided to continue. My mum and dad met us with extra clothes and I was able to change into dry clothes and have a warm freeze dried meal.
The second half was completely different to the first, although the steep ascents and descents were challenging and we were now in the dark, the weather was dry, which made navigation much easier. Again we were rewarded with the most stunning sunset and sky full of stars.
We sang, moaned, swore and dragged our bones the next 20 miles to the finish and John and pizza and hot tea.
Crossing 4: 5 August 2024
Guided crossing West-East
38.44 miles
4446ft
14 hours 50 minutes
There are some times in life when you get pulled to do things that you haven’t done before and are a little out of your comfort zone, but it just feels right – and it turns out to be one of the best decisions! That was the case for me on 5 August 2024 I booked on a guided crossing with Kathy and met a group of strangers in the middle of nowhere at 5am to cross for the 4th time.
This was a brilliant idea for a couple of reasons. Firstly I had company! At this time my husband was poorly and unable to get out of bed due to and undiagnosed thyroid condition. This meant he was unable to assist with the crossings as he had done previously. Secondly I met a group that I would become friends with and keep in touch and thirdly I learned of the variation of routes that meant I was able to contour around the three big hills near the beginning of the crossing.
This crossing was an absolute joy, I met some really nice people and although was longer than my other crossings, was arguably much more fun because of those who I met in the pitch black at 5am. That time was particularly challenging for me as a family, to know that I was still able to get out there are do things was really important.
Crossing with strangers
Crossing 5: 26 August 2024
East to West
37.71 miles
3967ft
12 hours 24 minutes
What a day!! On my 5th crossing I as accompanied by my friends Kate and Lucy. Lucy accompanied us 20 miles to Blakey and Kate completed her first crossing with me. This crossing was a joy and made me realise just how much easer things are with friends. Although we carried all our own food and water, the weather was stunning and the company was great fun. I know some days I make photographs appear to be more fun than it actually is, but I can honestly say that this crossing was so joyful. I think it also lay the foundations in my mind that to end on a double crossing was not only a possibility, but definitely well within reach (rather naively). Special thanks to Kathy (who guided us on crossing 4) for providing a lift to the start.
L-R Me, Lucy, Kate
Crossings 6 and 7: 24 May 2025
The Double Crossing
74.15 miles
8172ft
23 hours 35 minutes
On 24-25 May 2025 I completed crossings 6 and 7 of the Lyke Wake Walk, it seemed like the most appropriate way to the Doctor of Dolefulness to end on a grim double crossing. The plan was to park at Blakey Ridge and head out East to Ravenscar and back, before heading out to Osmotherly and back. My husband was going to accompany me and we had arranged for friends to meet us at both Ravenscar and Osmotherly with food/water. I thought going in May would maximise my chances of good weather.
The out and back to Ravenscar was really great, the weather was perfect (dry but not too hot). We ran, chatted and generally had a great time. There were some typical ominous Lyke Wake Signs – two dead birds, a dead sheep all within the first 5 miles, but we were in great spirits overall and buoyed further by the worlds most amazing picnic thanks to Lee Walker – sweets, pizza, melon, coke, ICE CREAM.
After 25 miles John was struggling, it was only a few weeks after a Fellsman finish for him and only a few months after he was finally stable and on medication following his diagnosis. And so back at Blakey Ridge John switched to crewing, taping my feet, changing my socks and clothes and feeding. I headed out into the night after a quick change of plan: Caroline would accompany me to Os and Ian would come back with me to Blakey Ridge. As we headed out from Blakey Ridge, I took a wrong line on the moors which led to us having to turn back uphill. It was dusk and wet under foot and so frustratingly disheartening. My mood was low and as the head torches went on I could feel that familiar creeping dread and familiar rub – of not wanting to continue but knowing that I couldn’t stop. High on the moors in the middle of the night I resolved to finish at Os, after 1.5 crossings.
I had been in this place so many times before and if there is anything I’ve learned from those times, it’s that who is around you and what they say in that moment has a massive impact on how you respond and what happens next.
After telling Caroline I was going to stop once I had finished this crossing, she knew exactly what to do and say – a hug on the moors and promise of a ‘reset and tea’ and we carried on to the next crossing. There I was met by John who bundled me into the van and helped me get changed out of my wet clothes. A few more spoonfuls of food and more sweet tea and I headed back out towards Osmothersley with the promise of a 15 minute sleep ringing in my ears. It’s amazing what little promises dangled in front of you like carrots keep you putting one foot in front of the other. I knew and they knew that I wouldn’t be stopping until it was over. So I quit with my moaning and carried on.
One of the remarkable skills I have is an ability to sleep anytime, anywhere for relatively short periods of time. 15 minutes in the car at Osmothersley felt like a full night, I woke up well rested and was accompanied by Ian for the last 20 miles. Ian definitely got the short straw on that crossing. I shouted, swore and promised myself never to do anything like this again. I vowed a future of hobbies that involved sitting in bed smoking black cheroots and knocking back bourbon. Ian said I could do whatever I wanted so long as I kept moving forwards. At times he would distract me with moorhen chicks, other times he danced ahead whilst I followed on like a belligerent child. My feet had never hurt so much.
Life and death have been pretty consistent themes during all of my crossings, both literally and internally. I am particularly interested in the edges of yourself that doing things like this can take you to. I’ve found that something quite dark and ethereal happens when I move my body for this long. It forces me to access the quiet parts of myself. There’s a rhythmic stillness in the discomfort where I learn so much. Although I am never sure how long I will stay in that place for, one things it for certain – it will come and it will hurt and the choices you make when you are there are really important. There are also periods of absolute fun and of people surrounding you with love, which really helps you to move along. It’s a little microcosm of life, and I guess that is what keeps pulling me back.
Double crossing
Notes on my grandad’s map
Tell me of the purple heather, heady and thick
of golden sunrise over rugged paths
that reach ahead to horizons unseen
Tell me of the folded corners
of well thumbed maps
of fingers tracing contours
tracking each dip and steep ascent
Tell me of pages folded
knowing a little of you will also be folded in on yourself
so the corners of what you thought impossible surface
an origami adventure
Tell me of the bags packed with excitement of 3am alarms and hailing rain
cutting across that bleak landscape and across a little bit of yourself
Tell me of the winds that drive us both towards each other and away
from ourselves
from the comfortable mundane
Tell me of the sunset that came too soon and not soon enough of wanting to stop,
but knowing that to stop would deny an ending That familiar rub
Tell me of the howling winds across barren moorland of sobs and clenched fists,
of bones that ache
of tears running in swollen rivers with feet on fire
Tell me of the detoured paths and hail driving pin pricks into red cheeks and I’ll tell you of the care
that carried us both
into the dark heart of that night
Tell me of the long miles awake
and I’ll tell you of the hands that hold of the close hugs on midnight moors
of the love that was shared at each road crossing of moorland picnics, laughter and star jumps
and pop up tuck shops where you pay with a promise to make it
I’ll tell you of the sweet tea brought to dry lips and spoon fed childlike dinners,
tenderness
I’ll tell you of wet clothes stripped from tired cold bodies replaced with warmth and rest
I’ll tell you of 15 minute sleeps that feel like a full night that reset and turn you back out again
I’ll tell you of the relentless draw of the wild places
of stones that mark the way and pull you away from everything you know yet also, in your bones, tell you that you are home
I’ll tell you what it is like to climb that last rise, to lay a hand on that stone,
to fall into the arms you love and to know you
yes, you
you did that thing.