I’ve been dreading this day! Even when I was planning it I knew it was ambitious, but I couldn’t find any easier (shorter) options between available accomodation. Now after walking two days and knowing how tired I’ve been it seems even more unlikely. Especially as the previous days have been completely flat, while today gets back into the hills. My only hope is that I have found, while cycling, that on day three of a tour I find new legs as my body accepts it just has to get on with what I have thrown at it! I also resorted to a motivational Instagram story a friend posted about how – comfort is a drug you get addicted to, and dreams die in the comfort zone. This motivation worked particularly well in the cloying mud in the final 5 km. There was no way I was succumbing to comfort and I kept going. Upon reflection, there wasn’t a comfort option (lie down in the mud?) anyway it worked. Spoiler alert – I made it. That was a long intro, and I’ve not even mentioned I’ve only eaten cheese in pitta bread “sandwiches ” the day before…. Anyway I headed off in the dark at 7am (having made more cheese “sandwiches”).

I’d slept really well and felt good heading up the road, flashing my light at oncoming cars. After one km, I was back on the quiet roads of the GMT. It gradually got lighter, and Sibsey Windmill looked fantastic in the low dawn light.

The route continued across the Fens with a good mix of roads and off-road footpaths. As soon as the roads seemed a bit boring, the route would take footpaths. Many of these were just heading across a ploughed field, or through very muddy fields. As soon as this seemed a bit much, the route got back on quiet lanes or tracks. It was a pretty perfect route, considering I really wanted to cover distance.

All morning, there had been hills on the horizon, and it looked like I had nearly crossed The Fens. I’m not sure if I can remember the last hill on the trail. Before I left the flat lands, the route crossed a disused airfield and attached Air Museum. This was East Kirby, which I now know, my late Uncle Vic flew from in WW2. He was a Flight Officer (co-pilot) in Lancaster bombers. Its hard to imagine what this sleepy place would have been like 80 years ago. It seems like the museum has a lot of good stuff, including a Lancaster that can taxi at full speed (it’s just not allowed to take off), so it will be worth a visit. On the military aircraft front, I could hear jets for most of the morning. I think this was from RAF Coningsby. I gave up looking for planes, I think by the time you hear them, they are long gone.

Soon after, the route started climbing to Old Bollingbroke Castle, which are impressive ruins and the trail goes right through the grounds. There must be loads of things to visit just off the route and I’m sure it would be great to divert slightly to see them. However, there is just too great a time pressure, especially in the winter. I really need push on to try to minimise the amount of “night hiking” as its much slower, and the risk of going wrong is higher.

I did allow myself to stop once. I knew there were no shops en route, but there were a few pubs which might be open (they weren’t). At almost exactly half distance, in Hagworthnigham, I came across an unexpected cafe. The signs said open but it looked shut. It was a few hundred metres from a pub. I decided to try the cafe (a bird in the hand and all that), and it was open. So I had a small slice of Coffee and Walnut cake, for the second day running (I’m thinking of dropping Greggs as my main sponsor 😉), and a coffee. It was just the break I needed, and they filled my water bottle so I was ready to the end. I had to walk past the pub which was closed, so I’d made the right decision. This set me up for the rest of the day as I didn’t need to worry about water. Upon reflection, I would have had to start knocking on doors (most places have neighbourhood watch, no cold calling signs) or using my lifestraw water filter on a dubious source (I think the choice would have been church rainwater harvesting or muddy streams). It made me ponder on how something so important to us (as humans) has been restricted so much. It doesn’t seem right. This sort of walking gets you back much closer to our essential needs. It may me think how do the homeless (sorry tented lifestyle gurus) access water, I expect access is easier in the city, or do they just drink champagne!

The route got really interesting passing through really rolling landscape and woods. Snipe Woods were really nice, and I was even more impressed when I came on a Meridian marker. It was a windy day and the sound of the trees was great (although I kept thinking there was a car behind me) and it was a sound that had been missing on The Fenns. The leaves were falling and the colours were great, I almost got hypnotised by the patterns of the leaves.

The other notable observation, was the number of nice villages, each with a sturdy church, and a huge variety of houses. This included a thatched cottage that looked like it had been lived on for 100’s of years, a cottage that must be a standard design, I’m sure I’ve seen these in the grounds of stately homes. Obviously there are plenty of examples of my home is my castle!

It was starting to get dark. The final part of the route was all on footpaths and didn’t go close to too many farms. I always get very alarmed when all the dogs start barking, and fear that someone might just open a gate to let them out. I keep my headtorch on, so that im not creeping up on anyone. On one bit, there was no creeping up on anyone as disturbed every bird that had just started to roost. When passing a duck pond he noise was amazing.

The final sections were across wide open fields and often there wasn’t a footpath. At one point I got stuck the wrong side of some very high corn on the cob. I had to battle through the crop to regain the correct line. This was easy using the OS app, but would have been quite an ordeal ìn the old days having to use dead reckoning with a compass and map at each field entrance. Obviously the mud got worse and worse as I got closer to Louth. Huge clods built up on my boots making my already tired legs even worse. In torchlight I couldn’t avoid it and just had to blunder through it. My trekking pole saved me from slipping over on many occasions.

After a short distance along a road, I made it to my bed and breakfast in Louth. Just over 51 km (32 miles) in 11 hours 45 minutes. If you want to do long walks like this, I’d recommend doing it in the summer. After a quick rest, and scraping as much mud off my boots as possible, I went for a curry. I did have one cheese “sandwich” left, but I’ll save that for tomorrow!