A bruised elbow

Monday, 4th April: We were woken in the early hours by barking and howling. Some of us thought they were dogs, others thought they were wolves. It was disturbing. The sounds grew close, and the darkness combined with the lack of sleep made the fear almost suffocating. I swallowed it down. This was an organised trek and we had experienced guides who knew what to do. The dogs or wolves passed by, their calling now fading and I drifted back to sleep, only to be woken minutes later by what sounded like a huge unoiled engine. It was a donkey. And we would grow to learn that this donkey got excited whenever it met other donkeys, its enthusiasm erupting with an ee-aw that drowned out anything else. It's exuberance couldn't help but make you smile..... except at three o'clock in the morning!

Theo called us to wake up just before sunrise and bleary-eyed I heard the sounds of zips as we all emerged from our tents. Breakfast was a glorious affair of breads, boiled eggs, fava beans, yoghurt..... I was too nervous to eat much. I filled the two-litre water bladder in my rucksack, checked I had supplies for the day and took down my tent.

We were on the trail just after sunrise. The air had a slight coolness to it but within an hour the heat was rising and I was sweating. Today was to be the hardest: entering the Black Mountains. Our camp had sat at 200m in the low-lying valley floor and we were to climb to a height of 1,350m arriving at our camp in Farron. The route was estimated to be around 16km and would take about eight hours. So we were told.

I'd trained a lot for this trek. I'd tried to get in hills as much as I could. But nothing had prepared me for the relentless climb. The relentless heat. Dream Challenges had expected the temperature to be in the low twenties, but this was late spring, a changeable season, and the temperature rose to 35C.

My legs were becoming tired. I was aware of it as I tried to push up onto a boulder, unsure if I'd pushed hard enough. I almost made it, but I hadn't positioned my walking poles right and my balance was off. I should've been able to make it but the weight of my rucksack pulled me back and in a moment there I was, flat on my back (well, almost). Thankfully the rucksack broke my fall and all I had was a grazed elbow. Embarrassment kicked in as I brushed it away as nothing. Friends helped me up and, with a huge push, I made it onto the boulder, striding across the rocks, walking poles tapping against the rock. I found a wet-wipe to brush the blood away. Later that night my elbow would begin to throb and then it would bruise to the colour of plum. But thank goodness I'd had that rucksack on!

Walking, walking, walking. The sun beat down. I drank my two-litres and filled up again. I drank more. A small group of us fell behind. I began counting my steps with my head down, looking at my feet, not at the hill ahead. I'd push myself to 100 steps and then stop for a count of twenty deep breaths. It was the only way I could go on, pushing my walking poles into the ground, using my arms to propel my body forwards. I felt faint. I felt sleepy. I began to feel nauseous. I stopped. Like a car that had run out of petrol, I was on empty. And I wasn't alone. The doctor told me to eat jelly sweets and salted peanuts. It helped a little and I carried on.

Eventually, at two o'clock our small group arrived at the lunch stop, an hour behind the others. We'd been walking for nearly seven hours. We had another three to go. Lunch looked lovely. A table had been filled with dishes of hummus, flatbread, olives, chopped vegetables in a tomato sauce, salads, baclava, cake. It was a feast. We were to learn that the camp team would set up a cooked lunch for us wherever they could reach the spot by truck. They really did look after us. 

But I was too tired to eat. Too dehydrated. I kept sipping water but couldn't seem to get enough. A handful of us decided not to continue but to grab a lift on to the next camp. Our plan was to rest and recover so we could walk the next day when the terrain was to be a little easier, although the distance as long.

We were in good spirits, just tired and hot. It was a relief to reach our new camp and use the chemical toilets while they were fresh.... I had not known the horror of a chemical toilet in the heat. The smell would make me retch.

The group arrived just a little over an hour later. We freshened up (wet-wipes!), and helped ourselves to a buffet set up in a tent (a multitude of colourful dishes) and sat on stools in a circle around a campfire. As the sun set we needed jumpers. The cool air felt good. Theo gave us our briefing for the next day and with laughter we made our way to our tents. By nine o'clock I was fast asleep.

Jane Lomas is fundraising for The Brain Tumour Charity (justgiving.com)