SATURDAY 25TH MARCH 2006

The day the team stared into a map-reading abyss but came out striding...

Today's photos are themed. So while you can scroll down to find the usual action-adventure shots of the route and our escapades along it, there's also a whole bunch of photos (and associated stories) of the special people and special animals we met along the way!

Today's Nightstriding Highlights

Route: This was mostly made up as we went along after discovering we couldn't map read (if only we'd done DofE when we were younger). It all started badly and went (continually) uphill! From Holmeswood in Surrey to the Leath Hill Tower to other places back to the Leath Hill Tower onward to a big town, the North Downs Way and the end of last time's walk at the Boxhill stepping stones. 29km measured by ipod nano headphones, 35km (for sure) in leg aches, 33km in proper distance: one third of the actual Nightstrider requirement... hey, not bad!

A beautiful beginning. Spring in the air, clear skies all around, snowdrops on the ground...

But things quickly take a turn for the worse, almost having to turn back upon stumbling across this sign. Luckily our Bodger & Badger fanclub badges were tucked out of sight, though the pair are never far away.

Next up: a haunted house. We tried to get in to ask the way but were defeated by the garden gate, which was welded shut. It's just a hunch, but I reckon it was the house that woman lived in in that 'Misery' film where she did nasty things to that writer's feet with a mallett.

One of a team of four whippersnappers enthusiastically defending their property from the marauding Team Nightstrider, bless. Poor Ian still hasn't got his trousers back.

Hold on! This one caught without trousers doesn't look like Ian...

The proper start. At this one moment in time (apart from being more than we thought we could be and having all of our dreams a heart beat away) we were standing at the site of the red star.

The Tower itself, with an ascent not disimilar to that of everest (and we certainly could have done with some ropes), was ultimately a little disappointing, being only just twice as tall as Ian.

A snapshot of Leath Hill Tower weekend life. This is tea/snack shop owner Bobby (right) and intrepid helper Chris. They serve home-made delights from a hatch in the tower out to passing passersby, weary from the climb up to the Tower and breathlessly gawping at the spectacular views (which on a good day - not today - stretch to the sea (south) and the new Wembley Stadium (north))... views to be expected and marvelled at from the highest vantage point in the whole of South East England - a whopping 965 feet. The shop sells postcards (left), a range of core drinking products (prices right, from which we sampled hot chocolate and bottled water) - but the highlight are the rustic cakes... arriving early as we did we got to choose from their full complement. I went for a bakewell, the triangular one just down and to the right of the 'lemon' sign. The food is served all say Sat and Sun in off-peak season, extending to fridays when things hot up. It all tastes delicious, no doubt thanks in part to enrichment from the dead body of the man who built the tower way back when and is buried beneath it's restored glory to this day.

This is Suzy and John Bush. John has a brother called George Bush. Suzy and John are inspirational former LDWA members who told us all about their intrepid 100km walking adventures, the sort we are stumbling to emulate. They had all the kit, and smiles aplenty, and suddenly I was wanting them to be our coaches, our guides, our spiritual mentors for the tough times ahead. Alas a little way down the path we said our goodbyes as they turned right, but it felt as if part of their being, their striding wisdom, had maybe stayed with us...?

Suzy and John's conquests: impressive and inspiring.

And we needed such inspiration to get over the waterlogged bogs of babbaloonion that slowed our progress markedly.

Aimee, horse whisperer. (her throat was so sore we could hardly hear her all day!)

Animal Farm... see how many animals you can spot! I make it four. No, wait a minute, there's some more chickens. No, wait a minute, there's some ducks about to do a vault over a low-lying pole. No, wait a minute, there's some horses...

Intrepid explorers The Famous Four. Clockwise from bottom left: Leanne, Rachel, Suzie and Hannah, all adventuring Duke of Edinburgh-ers replete with packs filled to bursting, handy compasses, roll mats and all the stuff we really should have. A big thank you to them for allowing another bunch of strangers to rudely interupt their break and cheekily ask them to pose for a photo - which as you can see they all did with an energetic smile (or, in the case of Leanne, an slightly distrustful smirk!). Best of luck to the team for completing their DofE expedition, for all we know they're still out there now amongst the heather.

Bob and Keith. Two cyclists, with made up names, cycling up a steep hill.

The point at which the map reading went asunder. We rested, we refuelled, we got up and went the wrong way, unknowingly heading back to where we'd started.

Perhaps Malcolm was the reason why. We were distracted by his tales of tractor restoration - this is an old Ford he just picked up ready to begin once-overring. He strips out the engine, invests about a grand in new parts, and has it ticking over with new lease of life in no time - and it's all done in his spare time as a hobby. We were first drawn to the scene because the lorry had 'Hot Wheels Racing' written on the side.

Anyhow, we plodded on, and soon arrived back where we started, 20km too early.

And, to add injury to insult, my intrepid sandals - two years service as my trusted underfoot steeds, including a many-month stint on the foothills of Mae La Oon refugee camp - break. A sad, sad moment in time.

We were all racing with destiny.

Time then, for a calming influence... (They're not my hands holding the book, by the way.)

Refreshed, refuelled, renewed and determined, on we all strode, as if like a team of flash gordons, flying blind on a jet-propelled rocket cycle. And we propelled our way past such beautiful scenes as this idyllic waterfall. (Copied and pasted from the Yosemite National Park 'Woodland Wondersplash' brochure 2004.)

And this idyllic abode from the November edition of 'This England' magazine.

Aimee, swinger.

When all is lost, look for the man emerging from smoke! This is Jade (real name John Sinclair) - coppicer extraordinare, on the 11th day of clearing a substantial plot of land close to a field we were hesitantly striding through. I must admit Jade was/is a top bloke - we shook hands on conversing about walks for Burma refugee camps, and there remains something undeniably wholesome, something wonderfully tempting about a life spent working on or with the land - far away from the over-lit city.

Steered back on track we then were...

And consume a second luncheon on the other side we did, resting our sweaty backs against unsuspecting trees...

Yet we were the unsuspecting ones as we dined as unknowing occupants of a rather Blair Witch-inspired den made of sticks, only discovered as we packed up to leave. Spooky.

And even spookier as we came across this church after a mamooooth post-lunch climb. I think it's the church from The Omen. It's all in the trees... THE TREES!

But with the final climb over, and the church and it's yard passed, it was time to gently descend down to Box Hill as the weather drew in. This scenery includes a budding vinyard in the mid-foreground.

But then another target loomed before us, shrouded in mist... the legendary Box Hill.

Aimee, wheelbarrower.

With wheelbarrower Aimee pointing the way forth, we planned our ascent on the mountainous girth.

But we had to cross the stepping stones of Satan to unlock the key to the windy-uppy stairway to Box Hill Bordor. The pain in our legs was beginning to tell... would we make it to our final destination?

No, we soon hit the wall.

So we turned back and went for a soda pop instead. Oh, happy days!