“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go”
T.S. Elliott
I am confident that every OutdoorUAE reader is passionate about some natural aspect of their mother country. Call me biased, but I feel the views over the English countryside from the South Downs on a clear summer day are hard to beat.
Standing atop the grassy chalk hills surrounded by a patchwork quilt of fields woven together by gently meandering rivers, sprinkled with picturesque villages, some going back several hundred years, is truly mesmerizing. Unfortunately, the 14th July 2012 was not a clear summer day in the southern counties of England. Far from it in fact, and certainly not ideal conditions for what is a global epic in terms of team challenges.
‘Trailwalker’ has its origins as a military training exercise initiated by Gurkha regiments of the British Army some 30 years ago in Hong Kong. Nowadays, Trailwalker events take place in 13 countries around the world to raise funds in support of Oxfam and The Gurkha Welfare Trust, two worthy charities attempting to ease the lives of those in impoverished communities often ravaged by natural disasters such as flood, famine and earthquake. It involves a team of four adventurous souls completing 100km in less than 30 hours.
Now, I hear you say 100km in 30 hours? Surely that’s not too bad, just 10x 10km or 20x around the Sharjah corniche. Now think of it in terms of being approximately 2.3 marathons, across country along rutted tracks in torrential rain and soul-sucking mud, through day and night, with 2,500m (3x Burj Khalifa’s stacked vertically) of cumulative ascent. Not so appealing, eh?!
After receiving a cryptic e-mail from a friend introducing me to Trailwalker UK back in December last year,the seed of a challenge for 2012 took root. I set about forming a team and training up for what would be a test of mind, body and soul. My 20 year old nephew Sean, who joined me in Nepal last year, eagerly accepted as did Tracy (also on last year’s trek) and her friend Tom. We would also be fortunate enough to have two noble volunteers, Chrissie and Nick, as our support crew.
After registration at the start point in Queen Elisabeth Country Park near Petersfield on Friday evening, we loaded up on carbs courtesy of the Gurkha canteen and were treated to music from the Queens Gurkha Signals regimental band. The revelry looked set to continue; however, an early night was required – big day tomorrow!
So after months of training, hiking in the Hajar mountains during the cooler months and walking the streets of Sharjah at night more recently due to rising daytime temperatures, I stood on the start line with my teammates and the realization that the furthest I had walked in one effort was 35km. How far can I go?
My focus returned quickly as the unmistakable lament of bag-pipes played by three Gurkhas heralded the start of our adventure. 7a.m., and we were off, with 9.6km to Check Point 1 (CP1).Our strategy was to keep stops brief and to keep moving, to check feet and change socks regularly. However, the infamous British weather had a different plan in mind. It had rained every day in Britain since mid-May, and this day was to be no exception.
Start – CP2, we made good time and were on target for a 24-hour finish.But as we reached CP2, the heavens opened up and we realized the staging area is already a muddy quagmire. No cover or opportunity to check our feet or change to dry socks, so we simply refueled and pushed on in the increasingly torrential rain.
CP2 – CP4, because of the inclement conditions, support crews could not get into CP3, so after checking in and a brief rest, we pushed on. But just a kilometer or so before CP4, Tracy became light-headed 
and was struggling to maintain her balance. The medic at CP4 diagnosed a salt overload in Tracy’s system, an electrolyte imbalance that meanther Trailwalker was over and we had lost about an hour determining Tracy’s condition. We later discovered that several people experienced the same problem, one actually passing out and requiring hospital care.
CP4 – CP7, with CP6 being closed to support crew due to the conditions, our final daylight stop was CP5 where we stocked up on water and energy bars. Approximately 7 hours of walking through the night lay ahead and still the rain kept pouring. We had turned the halfway point and mentally I told myself we were on the home run. However, physically, I knew there was still a long way to go.
CP7 – My low point; with 70km covered, and just 30km to go, we limped through the mud into the check-in area hearing the customary welcoming cheers of support from the Gurkhas and Oxfam helpers.I knew my feet were in bad shape. Goretex gear can only do so much, and upon removing my mud-encased gaiters and boots, two egg-sized blisters were revealed on both heels. Chrissie dressed them as best she could while I tried to get some heavy-caliber pasta inside me. Suddenly, I was overtaken by an uncontrollable shivering as the chill of the night settled in, which only abated after being encased in a blanket and taking some hot peppermint tea on board. I was soaked to the bone and a change of socks, boots plus dry T-shirt and shorts provided a psychological boost. However, the first few painful steps told me I would need my walking poles from now on and some painkillers. I had not come this far to give up and my resolve to finish was strengthened by a quote from Lance Armstrong as I began to get into my stride…
“Pain is temporary. It may last a second, a minute, an hour or a year but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”
I kept repeating to myself “pain is temporary, pain is temporary”. At least the rain had stopped, for now.
CP8 to CP9 – this turned out to be the most mentally draining leg. Dawn broke just as we reached CP8 and after refueling, we set off. On a fresh set of legs, the 13.8km and the 264m of ascent that made up this section, which would take no more than 2 hours,was to take us over 5. The rain returned at 7a.m., quickly cancelling the motivating effects of the dawn light that had given fleeting comfort. Sean was now suffering badly. Tom, Nick (who had joined us for moral support) and I did our best to keep Sean motivated and moving but as he retreated into his iPod for mental solace, his pace was reduced to a stuttering step-by-step motion. Tom and I were constantly running the numbers through our minds – time, distance to go, pace. We realized our window for completing the challenge was getting tighter and tighter. Our ambitious target of finishing in 24 hours was now a fantasy and finishing within 30 hours questionable.
A myriad of thoughts were going through my mind as we slowly approached CP9 (90km mark). Sean would be desperately disappointed if he did not finish, like me, failure does not rest easily with him. ‘Altruistic Geoff’ was telling me to pull out at CP9. Maybe this would help him deal with the disappointment, plus my feet were killing me, but ‘Selfish Geoff’ wanted to finish, or more to the point; I did not want to come back next year to settle unfinished business. I knew Tom was keen to finish and the rules stated that at least two team members must continue at each stage – but what about everyone who had sponsored us? How could I face them, betray their support by pulling up just 10km from the finish line because of a couple of blisters? As we took the last agonizing steps into CP9, Sean now supported either side by Tracy and Chrissie, I was undecided.
I headed straight for the medical tent and asked the medic to do what he could with the blisters on my heels, which had now burst, the ‘head’ rubbed away revealing raw, sensitive flesh. To my deranged amusement, new blisters had appeared since CP8 – fantastic! Chrissie came in and advised that Sean had reluctantly pulled out, physically exhausted, mentally drained and recognizing that if he continued we would not complete in less than 30 hours. Decision made.
CP9 – CP10 – CP11 (Finish)
10.00am – just 3 hours left to cover 10km. Normally this would be a ‘walk in the park’, but after 27 hours with little rest, our various injuries and more hills to face, we would need to push hard to beat the 30 hour deadline. I left my pack with the support crew in order to travel light and fast, and counted on there being water at CP10. Fueled by painkillers, adrenaline and the realization that one final push would see this thing finished, Tom and I set off, accompanied by Tracy who had recovered sufficiently to walk the last 2 sections with us for moral support.
The final section seemed to go on forever; this was a long 10km! On cresting the final hill, the English Channel came into view with the Brighton race course grandstand finish point just a few kilometers away. Not far now but time was slipping away.
As we walked along the course, parallel to the endless white rail of the racetrack on our left, and passed the welcoming ‘500m to Finish’ sign, the sun finally made an appearance, almost mocking us as if to say, “What was all the fuss about?”. With broad smiles on our faces, and the finish-line just 50m away, the same Gurkha bag-pipers who sent us on our way a lifetime ago burst into life and we were welcomed to rapturous applause from the waiting crowd.Crossing the finish line, the public address system triumphantly announced,“Team ‘Trial by Trail’, 29 hours and 10 minutes, well done!”We had completed the Trailwalker UK 2012 challenge!
For more information about Trailwalker, check out www.oxfam.org.uk/Trailwalker and if feeling inspired by our efforts and generous, our online donations page is at
www.virginmoneygiving.com/team/TrialByTrail
One final comment; I would like to take this opportunity to thank our support crew, Chrissie and Nick, the Gurkhas and Oxfam helpers, everyone who sponsored us, and most importantly, my long-suffering wife!
Published in August 2012
